snake sunglasses

Snakes and Stones



“Damn,” Sam said under his breath. He and Dean had just stepped into a small, rundown diner where the ghoul was known to terrorize. While the diner was open 24/7, the brothers had hoped that they would find the diner empty (except for the ghoul, obviously).

But you were sitting down at the corner of the counter, staring straight ahead.

“Nah, it’s cool,” Dean said, studying you. “She’s obviously drunk. And maybe blind.”


“Look at her—beanie down to her ears, no doubt hiding greasy hair. Stained pants that haven’t been washed, hell, maybe not even taken off in at least four days. Sunglasses on inside at…” Dean glanced at his watch. “11:26 pm.”

“That doesn’t–”

“And take a look at that plate in front of her. Biscuits and gravy with bacon. Heavy on the grease.”

“You really have no room to judge people on what they eat. You probably think that looks good.”

“Hell yeah, I do.”

At that moment, a waitress stepped out from the back. “Help you, boys?”

“Table for two,” Dean said, holding up two fingers. “Booth if you can.”

The waitress nodded to the booth the brothers were standing next to. Sam and Dean slid into it as the waitress placed sticky plastic menus in front of them. The boys pretended to look over the pages while surveying the diner.

“That’s our ghoul,” Dean whispered as the waitress drifted back into the kitchen.

“Totally,” Sam said. “So, what… ambush in the kitchen?”

Dean pursed his lips. “I don’t know…”

“We need to keep that civilian safe.”

“Yeah, yeah. But…”


“I don’t want to destroy the kitchen.”


“That’s where the food is.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

At that moment, there was a screeching in the back, along with the clanging of pots and pans hitting the floor. Sam and Dean grabbed their weapons and dashed into the kitchen.

The cook lay dead in the middle of the kitchen floor, his blood splattered around, his intestines now on the outside of his stomach. The waitress lay near him, mouth covered in red. The figure standing over her corpse was wearing a beanie and stained pants.

“Hold it right there!” Dean said, gun aimed.

“Easy, gents. I’m just here to help.”

“Who the hell are you?” Sam asked.

You raised your hand to your face, causing the Winchesters to twitch, prepared to fire if you tried to throw a blade or shoot a bullet in their direction. Slowly, you turned.

“Guns down, boys. The threat’s gone.”

“What did you do to them?”


“What?” Dean asked.

“I only did something to her. She killed the cook.”

Dean’s eyes went from the bloated corpses at your feet to your eyes.

Your sunglasses-covered eyes.

“How’d a blind chick gank a ghoul with such speed and ease?”

“I’m not blind.”



“Then what’s with the glasses?”


“So take ‘em off.”

“No, thanks.”

“You got somethin’ to hide?”

“You have no idea.”

Dean and Sam shared a look. “What’s going on here?” Sam asked.

“I did my job.” You paused for a moment. “And apparently your job as well. Nice try, boys. Better luck next time.”

“Who the hell are you?” Dean asked.

“Y/N. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” You started out of the kitchen, brushing past the Winchesters.

Dean watched as you disappeared. Was it his imagination or was there a faint hissing sound following you?

“You can have my biscuits, if you want,” you called behind you.

Dean was tempted—after all, the cook was dead. But the mystery of you was too big to leave alone.

“Hey,” he called, following you, Sam following him.

Did… did your beanie just move?

“What are you hiding?”

“Everything I normally don’t share with strangers!”

Dean reached forward, yanking your beanie off.

He froze in his tracks, Sam running into him.

“Holy shit,” Dean said.

“Goddammit!” You spun around, hand darting to your hair.

Your hair made of SNAKES.

“Give me that back!” You reached out for the beanie.

Dean was so shocked that he let you jerk the beanie from his fingers. You pulled it back down over your head, tucking in a stray snake. You adjusted your sunglasses but Dean could feel the glare you were giving him.

“Holy shit,” Sam said. “You’re a… a Gorgon.”

You crossed your arms in front of your chest. “So?”

“I didn’t think those existed!”

“Yeah, well, we do, thank you very much.”

“Hold on, she’s a what now?” Dean asked.

“Right here, jackass,” you murmured.

“A Gorgon. They’re these creatures from Greek mythology with hair made of snakes and a stare that turns victims to stone.”

“Wait, like Medusa?”

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t speak of Grandmother as if you knew her.”

The Winchesters stared at you, eyes wide.

“You… you’re related to Medusa?” Sam asked, incredulously.

“Any living Gorgon can trace their lineage back to her. There aren’t that many of us left, though.” You studied the men. “So… can I go now?”

“Are you a hunter?” Sam asked.

“I do what I can.”

The three of you stood in awkward silence.

“Can I seriously have your biscuits?” Dean asked.

  • american goverment: this guy who looks like you took over a top secret military base in the cold and is planning on launching nukes
  • snake: cant you guys just nuke him first --
  • america: no bro you gotta go in there and fuck them up
  • snake: ugh i guess
  • snake: -goes in there and fucks them up with horrible intel, gets his best bro's daughter shot by a sniper, somebody pees on him, his other best bro is all weird and now a ninja, metal gear rex, super babby meth, sunglasses -
  • snake: okay bro i
  • american goverment: wERE GONNA FUCKING NUKE IT LOL
  • snake: wHAT

anonymous asked:

I'm really tired of Ferny complaining on this god damn furry site "I'm getting sadder and sadder with each passing hour" bitch shut the fuck up. That's really fucking edgy. Also I don't understand why Marty has 62 likes? It's literally just a snake with a hat, sunglasses, and a skateboard.