Posts tagged supernatural.
completelysane asked: 15 for Wash/CT and 1 for Supernatural (any character/pairing is fine but Sam is my fave!)
15. kissing to save the day
“So, you remember that Firefly episode, The Train Job?” Wash asked a bit nervously. Connie glared at him.
“I can’t believe you’re going to get us arrested, Wash,” she repeated. “This is not how I wanted to spend my mandatory vacation.”
“I’d argue that York and North are going to get us arrested, by running away faster than us. And then picking that lock at the end of the alley.” He noticed her still glaring at him and decided to backpedal a bit. “But anyway, the episode, right?”
“Yeah, I remember.”
“Good. Think of that as context,” he said and slammed her against the alley wall, kissing her just as five police officers, two squad cars, and one helicopter ran past the entrance to the small abandoned street. One of the officers paused to look at their silhouette, let out a small chuckle, and kept going.
“Uh, guys?” York appeared a bit later, maybe a minute, maybe ten. “They’re gone. You can stop now.”
Wash immediately backed off of Connie, his cheeks slowly reddening. She looked at him, licking her lips thoughtfully, and said “The Train Job, huh?”
“It was inspiration,” he replied sheepishly.
North clapped him on the back, still drunk, and loudly declared “I can’t even believe that worked. Or that she kissed you. I really can’t believe she kissed you.” The other three shushed him hurriedly.
“Alright kids,” York said, “time to get out of here, but do it calmly. They always chase a running man.”
“You were going to be an astronaut?” Dean said one day, driving the impala down the road at predictably unsafe speeds.
“Yeah,” Sam said, a bit quietly. “I mean, before you came and got me-“
“I thought you were going to be a lawyer.” He picked up a leftover bag of chip crumbs from three days ago and emptied it into his mouth, blocking his vision of the road ahead with perfect accuracy.
“I did too, but, you know, once I got there-“
“-space? Dude, you were in space?”
Sam’s mouth twitched softly at his brother’s disbelief, somewhere between a smile and a frown. “Forget it. We hunt demons now.”
“If this doesn’t work out, Sammy, we’re gonna take you, me, and dad as soon as we find him, and you’re going to fly our asses to a demon-free moon.”
“Yeah,” Sam resigned, looking out the window now. “Sounds like a plan.”
queen-of-france asked: Ahahaha ALL OF THE SHIPS. York/Carolina (in light of more recent episodes)? Wyoming/Tex? Sarge/Tex? Kara/Batgirl? Harley/Ivy? Cas/Dean?
ALL OF THE SHIPS. ALL OF THE AWESOME SHIPS.
- Rate it on a scale of 1 to 10: 10! They were my first real not-canon-approved ship in RvB. They’ll always have a very very special place in my heart because of that.
- Tell what I like/don’t like about it: I love how their personalities interact and fit together, how they can find strength in each other, and I hate/love how tragically they end.
- Write a small fic: York was kind of curious why, exactly, the twins had asked to watch him and Carolina during sparring practice. He got his answer when, after they were done and he was walking past South, she grinned and said, “so is the sex just as good, or…” North smacked his sister in the arm, which didn’t seem to faze her, and York turned around with a grin and answered, “better.” North’s cheeks got a little more color and South just grinned in triumph at her brother’s flushed face.
- Rate it on a scale of 1 to 10: Would have been a 3 before this week’s episode and the mustache. Now it’s a 2. I can see it, but I can’t see her tolerating that caterpillar. Or Wyoming himself for very long.
- Tell what I like/don’t like about it: What I like is the potential for hilarity. Especially now with the mustache. What I don’t like is, I guess, is the dynamic of them. I just have a hard time seeing them as anything but a complete crack ship.
- Write a small fic: “Remember how we met, Wyoming?” Tex would ask smugly. He’d frown under that mess of facial hair and murmur something like “yes, I tried to kill you,” and she’d respond with “‘tried’ being the operative word,” and they’d go back and forth with the snark that came so easily to her, and so often easily to him, until she sometimes called him Church. He’d let it go, but for the rest of their conversations his voice would droop a bit lower, his smile a bit forced, his speech a bit more British, futile efforts to distinguish himself from a memory.
- Rate it on a scale of 1 to 10: 4, and it’s all because of Nem. Before her fanfics and ideas, the thought of Sarge and romance was kind of…not an option. XD
- Tell what I like/don’t like about it: What I like is Sarge and robots. What I don’t like is the idea of Sarge and
anyone other than his shotgunwomen.
- Write a small fic: Sarge couldn’t deny the absolute efficiency of Carolina, but there was something off about the new freelancer. Perhaps it was all the ways she was so very similar to the old one, and the one flesh and blood and human way she was so very different, but efficient or blue or freelancer or not, Sarge had a small space in his heart that resented the newcomer, even if he could never really figure out why.
Kara/Batgirl (I’m going to write in Steph Brown Batgirl here)
- Rate it on a scale of 1 to 10: 10 as friends (loooove them!) and probably a 6 as romantic anything because Steph has got her eyes on other people. And Kara might too?
- Tell what I like/don’t like about it: THERE IS NO BAD. THEY ARE PERFECT TOGETHER AND BESTEST OF FRIENDS AND BFF (which is already plural).
- Write a small fic: “It’s weird,” Steph said, frowning. “It’s not weird, it’s…super.” Kara’s text insisted. “I don’t see why we can’t just use phones,” Steph pressed on. She was talking to herself out of her window while Kara was…somewhere. Across town, maybe? Somewhere within range of super hearing, anyway. “Or at least let me text you back rather than just talking to myself-” “This is better, it’s like high tech soup cans with the wires…isn’t that what Earth children do to communicate?” Steph rolled her eyes. “Seriously, Kara, just let me actually call you. Please? You’re trying to recreate a Calvin and Hobbes cartoon.” “A what? I’m not sure how to use this thing. It does voice?” Kara’s text read, and Steph finally sighed in defeat. “Nevermind. But you’ll have to explain to my mom why I’m sitting in my room talking to myself with the window open.” “Like that’s unusual for you. ;)”
- Rate it on a scale of 1 to 10: 10. 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10!
- Tell what I like/don’t like about it: The only way to make these two more crazy is to put them together. Of course I love this pairing. :D
- Write a small fic: “I can play doctor,” Harley said firmly. “I got one of them degrees hangin’ on my wall next to the toy gun and the acid-spitting flower!” Ivy looked at her friend with a sigh and said, calmly, “any degree hung up next to a deadly clown prop is invalid.” Harley crossed her arms and sat down on the couch with a huff, until Ivy rolled her eyes and handed the girl back the stethoscope.
- Rate it on a scale of 1 to 10: 10. We all know it’s there, even if some of us (including me) are still clinging to denial.
- Tell what I like/don’t like about it: I love all of the undertones of them and being together, romantically or not, all their interactions and every heartwrenching easy-to-read-into-glance. I hate that it’s not, technically, canon.
- Write a small fic: When Dean handed him the trenchcoat - full of symbolism and hope and more than a twinge of desperation - the first thing Cas noticed was the smell. It didn’t smell like him anymore, or the swamp he lost it in, or the trunk of the car it had supposedly been sitting in for the longest time - it smelled like Dean.
SPN Drabble: Grooming
“Do you have wings?” Sam asked.
The hallucination looked uncomfortable. “Sammy, I’m as happy as a clam seeing you talk to me, but that’s not on the list of approved subjects.”
“You’re an angel. Archangel. You should have wings.” Sam pressed on, partly out of curiosity but mostly out of spite, out of pleasure that he found something to hold over the devil’s head.
“You don’t play nice and I’m going to start singing,” Lucifer warned. “And never stop,” he added after a moment.
“I’m curious. You’re living in my head anyway, might as well tell me. If we had killed you - really killed you, would you have left those wingprints like the other angels.”
Lucifer stared as if this line of questioning would end with a bit of intense eye contact. Then he leaned back in his chair and grinned at Sam, looking more like himself for the first time in this conversation. “Have you ever read Good Omens?”
“What does that have to do with-“
“Well, they got a bunch of things wrong. Of course. Humans always are bound to screw things up. But they had a moment of true insight - true enough that I thought one of them might have actually seen an angel before. They said that demons still have wings, they just happen to be better groomed.”
“So, you have wings, they’re just prettier?” Sam said, leaning forward in his chair.
Lucifer frowned and in a blink and a sharp, violent sound, was face to face with Sam as he said, “well, they have to be good for something. I can’t exactly use them to fly.” Another loud slamming of a crackling noise and he was gone, retreated into some burrow of Sam’s mind.
Sam sat back, breathing out in relief he shouldn’t be feeling towards a hallucination, a trick of the mind, and tensing up ever-so-slightly in apprehension of what it means that he just pissed off his own personal demon. Or, sorry. Archangel.
Apparently I missed two episodes of Supernatural?
Yeah. Time to watch them, even if I think tumblr spoiled the ending fo the finale for me.
It took me a moment, though, and I started watching the finale and…
carry on my wayward son
there’ll be peace when you are done
stab through the heart, seriously. God, I get flashbacks to Swan Song every time I hear that.
don’t you cry no more
SPN: Nightingale in Stockholm
When it comes down to it, Daphne was just afraid he’d leave.
It wasn’t that she was desperate. She’d had plenty of suitors and offers before this. And when this strange man who remembered nothing of his life ran into her, naked and lost, she thought it her duty as a good person to help him find his way.
She took him in and purchased clothes, telling her friends at church about him for the added security this offered. She did, after all, have a complete stranger in her house.
He did not seem to know or care what name he would prefer, but after a few days she found it would help her to give him one. He seemed apathetic to the idea so she feigned excitement and encouragement where he lacked it.
“How about Emanuel?” She offered the name quietly, her hand holding her bible, the same book she had been scouring every night for some form of guidance.
“What?” the man said, studying her with that intense child’s gaze he constantly had.
“Emanuel? For your name? It means ‘God is with us’.”
“God?” the man repeated.
“He led you to me, so I thought…it seemed fitting.”
The man sat in his chair, contemplating this suggestion, before finally looking up at her with a definitive ”I like it.”
That was the first moment he seemed…he seemed like a normal human being. It was as if the name unlocked something in him and slowly brought out a man, a man who smiles and jokes, talks and laughs and forms connections with other people.
SPN Drabble: Nicknames (for basia)
“I think we know each other well enough for me to call you Sammy, don’t you?”
Sam tried to keep his face impassive, his gaze staring anywhere but at his own personal demon, hallucination, monster, angel. But it was three days of no sleep, of no relief, and he got up from the chair in the dark room and left the motel, keys jingling in his pocket as he walked in the cool night air.
“I mean, I certainly know you well enough. How could I not? I am you.”
“You,” Sam said, wheeling around to point an accusing finger and finding Lucifer grinning in victory. “You are not me. You are a part of me that’s broken.”
“Right,” Lucifer said in an oddly soothing voice. “Because you were so whole and intact before I got here.”
“Shut up,” Sam grumbled.
“Oh, come on, Sammy. Sammy? Saaaaammy. It’s such a nice nickname. Very fitting.”
“What do I call you, then?” Sam said, throwing up his hands in frustrating defeat. “Lucie?”
Lucifer made a face, his mouth off to one side in casual displeasure. “I prefer ‘Morning Star’. It’s got a nice imagery to it.”
“I prefer you shut up and let me sleep, Lucie.”
Lucifer cringed this time and ran after Sam with his hands thrown up in a appeasing gesture. “Alright, alright, if you have to shorten it, how about ‘Luce’?”
“How about you call me Sam?” he rumbled, twitching his head to the right to work out the soreness in his neck.
Lucifer got in front of him and turned so he was walking backwards. “No need to be snippy, Sammy, look at this lovely conversation we’re having! It’s like we’re friends.”
“You obviously don’t know how to have friends.”
“Misfortune of circumstance,” the devil said with an easy shrug. “Come on, Sammy. You know you like the nickname.”
Sam’s feet led him back to the door of the motel room. He sighed. “If I say yes, will you let me sleep?”
Lucifer leaned against the door in thought. “Only if you don’t call me Lucie,” he said with a grin.
“Fine,” Sam sighed, and for the first time in a couple of days, Lucifer disappeared.
WOW WOW WOW I DIDN’T KNOW HOW BADLY I WANTED THIS UNTIL JUST NOW. WOW. WOW. W O W.
<3 <3 <3
I just. I really want this episode. So much. I think it’d be fucking fantastic, and I loved the other episode when they DID have the other gods and Luce was all “lol, no one cares”.
Because guess what? God is gone, angels’ numbers are dwindling, and the two most powerful archangels are stuck in a cage.
Christianity has seen better days…
SPN: Divine Right
“I understand you’re having a little Leviathan problem,” one of the men said, grinning like a coyote.
“Sam,” Dean whispered, his stance poised and ready. “This is by far the stupidest idea we’ve ever had, and that’s sayin’ something.”
Sam shook off the comment in a moment of feigned control. “They can’t go outside the circle,” he said, almost convincingly. The man who had spoken laughed like a hyena. Sam spoke over him. “This is your world, too.”
“‘Your world too’, did you notice?” a woman scoffs from behind her helmet and armor. “‘Your world too’, as if humans are not our mere playthings. What want for their safety have we, when they have turned their backs on us in light of new ideas and so-called ‘wisdom’ they believe they can achieve in mere centuries.” She stared, hard, her eyes as piercing and as unyielding as all the statues who carried her likeness. “You know not your place, Winchesters.”
“So you have heard of us,” Dean said with a mocking smile. A man walked up to the limits of the binding, walked until he was face to face with the brothers and grinned.
“Of course, good Athena has heard, as have we all. The tale of the great Winchesters, yes. The way they save the day, but only after they put it in peril.” He grinned in that sadistic way that only storytellers were truly capable of, and began to pace in front of them in glee as he continued. “Of course we all know the story of how our kind was wiped by the Morning Star! The simple act of dominance is only lost, perhaps, by the good sense of polytheism.”
“We get it, there’s a bunch of you, that’s why we called you here,” Dean said, and he was met with a low growl from the speaker.
The growl sounded like many words and sounds and languages at once, but the message was still abundantly clear: “hush now, boy, your elders are speaking.” the man resumed his pacing, his voice melodic, his hands weaving the intricacies of his tale. “And what so happened to the Christian word when all the dust was settled? You found a god, quite indifferent, and he proved his hand would not touch these humans. You saw how angels and demons clashed on rocky shores of souls, their petty fight carrying a toll on their own believers. You watched Lucifer strut and mock in the face of sense and decorum, deciding to be a slave once more, not to a father but to a notion of destiny and might.” He paused, turning to face the two brothers and bringing his hands together as if in prayer in front of his smile. “Christianity, my boys, has had its show and reign. It has shown the world the might of the apocalypse, and it has fizzled out to a barely glowing, dying ember. Your work, Sam and Dean Winchester, was to prove to us that a new world order would soon follow, if we could only bide our time.”
“Alright, Sparknotes,” Dean said gruffly. “What about the Leviathans, then? You think they’d just leave you alone?”
“The Leviathans want Earth, human,” another man said from the back. “What use is caring for a planet that has abandoned us? It can fall into chaos as it wills, our devout followers shall be protected by the force of our gale.”
“Look, Set, right?” Sam said, pointing at the speaker. The man nodded, his regalia easily betraying his Egyptian origins. “And you’re Anansi?” Sam said, pointing at the man who had delivered the rhythmic monologue, who dipped his head into a nod. “So you must be the Coyote,” Sam addressed the first man, who also nodded a confirmation. “No offense, but… the Leviathans kill angels. What makes you think you can protect yourselves from that?”
“When just one archangel wasted twelve of you?” Dean added.
“You have called us here under a misinformed idea of sentiment,” Athena said. “We have only stayed to make it clear that this is not our battle.”
“You guys got a truce going with those monsters?” Dean spat. “You think they’ll honor that, when the time comes?”
“How interesting you call them monsters,” Set said. “They are nothing but pure animals. Looking for a food supply, desiring the top of the food chain, instinct guides their every action. No, the real monsters are the ones that think. The ones that delude themselves with importance and a sense of birthright.”
“It is high time humans learned that the only right they are subject to is our judgement,” Athena picked up. “We refuse, Sam and Dean Winchester. We refuse and we caution that calling upon us again in this inconsequential battle you will lose will force our hand not to help, but to smite.”
The circle glowed a harsh white and the five intruders were gone. The ground was burned black, smelling of charred wood.
“Well,” Dean said simply. “That could’ve gone better.”
“Back to square one,” Sam said with a heavy sigh.
basiacat asked: Prompt! :D "And in the burst of light that blinded every angel/as if the sky had blown the heavens into stars/you felt the gravity of temper grace falling into empty space/no one there to catch you in their arms."
In the months that Castiel defied heaven and everything he lived for in the name of two stubborn human boys, he often thought of Anna; at first as some kind of a role model, and then with the tiny seeds of jealousy that felt so unfamiliar in his mind. She fell to Earth, defied and escaped and lived, she fell and she was separated from herself, from her grace, and she seemed happy, in a way. Castiel thought of her and envied that it was ripped out all at once, that it wasn’t a part of her any more, because he imagined, he could only imagine, that having it pulled out of you was better than feeling your grace deteriorate and fade away, bit by bit.
Immediate reaction to SPN 7x21 was…was a lot more hostile than I expected: