CROWLEY. freaking crowley. fucking crowley. this is all his fault. it has to be. blame has to shoulder someone else, as far as the present tense stretches, at least. if he doesn’t struggle to channel the gas smoking through his innards, through a chest fragmented by shards, he might find a flicker to ignite said gas & set it ablaze. ultimately, he hasn’t peaked. oh, he is FAR from it. prompted against the hood of the car, imploding chased breaths & low hisses of distemper, it almost looks like he is battling to tame a panic attack, which it almost is, except it’s w o r s e —— he is trying to tame HIMSELF, to pour ice on the opened can of worms spewing a chaotic adrenaline in his core.
❛ i should’ve jus’ stayed dead. i should’ve stayed dead so many times. ❜
but, he didn’t.& all in order to shepherd him towards a path he wouldn’t wish to his worst enemies to walk.
[ He’s a shell of himself. Sam can see the emptiness in his eyes. He holds the sides of his brother’s face firmly. ]
❝Please.. Please tell me you had to do this. —That you were defending yourself.❞
[ He knows it’s not true. He can’t help his hands from shaking slightly as he holds him still. His face was so cold and pale. Slight anger rushes over him and he grabs Dean’s shirt collar tightly. ]
❝Tell me the truth, Dean..❞ Am I losing you again?
an uncross able barrier slashes him open, rips his mind from his body apart & it tears the MIND, too. he feels stolen by the wings of wind, like a twig carried by the whips of a storm, motionless down on his knees & pillared between his brother’s hands, dean is still s w a y i n g in his stiffened seating. his limbs & muscles are failing him, crumbled under the weight of an internal warfare as he struggles to break through this ATROCIOUS thin line between what his liberated mind dictates & what spiraling trance the mark clawing into his skin has thrown him in.
with every eyelash he bats, he feels contact with reality melt through his quivering fingers, barely carrying himself enough to feel the decency to refuse to look his brother in the eye, especially while he still isn’t able to let go of the knife that’s a canvas of a slaughter house.
❛ n— … ❜ he’s choking on his own words. but in his defense—— he has to wrestle his demons. right then & right there.
incoherence laces his tongue, as much as he can slip through the cracks. ❛ sam, sammy … you gotta believe—— i didn’t know, i didn’t … know, i told ‘em, but … ❜
❝ ———- and you figured now would be a decent a time as any to finally get to know, and perhaps understand, the companion you have kept at your side for months. ❞
she met him with a silence of her own; challenging him, testing how far he can bend before he BREAKS.
❝ I am not fond of speaking of such a place; my past reawakens with each fleeting thought of the great grass seas ——- and my past is not a pleasant one. But for you, I will gladly make an exception.
What is it you’d like to know? ❞
« ——– ├ ᗪ ╰☆╮ ᙡ ┤——– »
an acre pang claws its way into his chest & he wouldn’t go as far as to label the sentiment as guilt, all due to the contrast clenched in his jaw & the descend of eyes caged in a narrow. ultimately, he feels bad for the SAKE of it, but certainly fights to let his reasoning surface.
❛ i sort of prefer not to tie past with present ‘cause normally if i do that, i’d get everyone run into the friggin’ sunset. ❜
❛ ——— see ? bustin’ open all kinds of wounds. ❜
he’s going to let a dwelling exhale pour out of his lungs, fingers shuffling among the mess of paper goods scattered on his work desk ( a mere table, nothing special, but let him live it up ). one time he rips his eyes from his amassing is to roll his lips together in a firm press, a simple glance of certainty glowing upon her angelic frame.
❛ nothin’. never mind. i have the feelin’ i’d need to punch someone if i hear any of it. ❜
how could he not ?he jolted at the simple mention of the unpleasantness which her past carries & if it involves ANY of the things that usually make dean’s blood boil, they would risk entering an awkward situation.
he treads with contained steps, gliding through piles of rubble & dust, basically the whole landscape to point out to a certain PERIL behind the chosen location. then again, all shut down sites & fields bordered by mighty fences are this way for a r e a s o n. retracting a flashlight from the inside of his jacket, he implodes a light in an instinctual flick erupted from uncanny rattles &footsteps that tickle his ears.
his raging battle stance steams out when the glowing string of light lands on a figure & the lack of offense leads him to, at the very least, HOPE that he isn’t facing his p r e y.
❛ ———- ‘ey, lady. everythin’ good with ya ? ’s a bit late even for late night strolls. ❜
“i still think we should get a cat.“ quiet words that dissipate in the low murmur of voices before his position moves from behind the winchester another couple of steps as opposed to sitting down. his gaze tapers from the newspaper & toward the detail of their location and the many faces scattered abroad. because the advertisement he caught at first, passing glance isn’t the one that holds dean’s pertinent attention, but rather that of the local pet shelter at the lower left corner.
« ——– ├ ᗪ ╰☆╮ ᙡ ┤——– »
❛ a cat. ❜
a flat statement. it’s not even a wording which tolls an inquiry, since it would much rather expect a phrase weighting from the seraph’s part. he would frankly provide a sated side eye, but he can’t help noticing the very particular object of the other’s attention & he genuinely feels GRATEFUL that castiel’s attention has once again glided away from the conspicuous point that would only trace after itself a lot of explanations. with a shift in his leg — don’t mind him, he’s just s t r e t c h i n g, he quickly pulls his cup of coffee over the respective supernatural article. no one saw that.
❛ i’m allergic to cats. we can barely take care of ourselves——- i mean, y— never mind. in conclusion, no cat.❜
cars & trucks lay forgotten in the wake of this stranger’s initial appearance, though his favorite bear stays tucked in his arms, pressed to his small chest for protection. mommy says the bear protects him from monsters just like the ones on sesamestreet. dean, though small, young, and in no possession of any way to protect himself from this stranger, makes no move to call out to his mother ( who even now, he can hear rummaging around in her bathroom drawers. ) from reasons unbeknownst to him, this stranger doesn’t scare him — doesn’t make him nervous in any way. in fact, he seems FAMILIAR. so familiar, that when he asks dean where his mommy is, the toddler steps forward, and with no hesitation, takes this stranger’s finger in his little hand & pulls to the bottom of the stairs.
« ———— ├ ᗪ ╰☆╮ ᙡ ┤———— »
he feels an almost instinctual need to stumble back, to snatch himself away from a situation people would condemn him for responding to so ; the embodiment of purity, golden locks & wide eyes, green like the early blooming of spring igniting a nonsensical DREAD in his heart. he feels tainted, impure, he almost fears his singular touch could fragment this little boy & scar his hands, drown his body in a BLACK quagmire & collect his pieces off the ground. despite his wariness, he can’t amass the cruelty to pull away ; even more, he melts into the touch, barely a solace & lets his frame float with the lead. he doesn’t even know when or HOW, but prompted at the bottom of the stairs, his index formed a hook around the little hand, a meek squeeze that barely made it through his muscles given far away his heart has sunk. he’s supposed to SPEAK, but speech is a relative term, it’s foreign & all he has is good intentions, a heavy marble clogging his throat & shattering his gaze with a pitiful grief. F R O Z E N. completely glacial, he’s enthralled by his stolen childhood& refuses to loosen the grasp on the small hand.
The words hit her like a train and she closed her eyes to contain her tears. It burnt under her eyelids and she blinked like she had sand stuck in her eyes.She cleared her throat, hating the few tears burning on her cheeks.
John had helped her through everything, he had made her who she was now in a few sentences and explanations. She was no longer a stupid little girl but a woman on a mission and she knew that she owed him her life. She shook her head, trying to focus.
“Yes. It’s our kinda problem. Something John and me hunted and it’s back with a revenge I guess.”
« ——– ├ ᗪ ╰☆╮ ᙡ ┤——– »
his glance assembles at the outlines of his feet, rancid tastes coat his throat in a fought off reminiscence that does nothing but swim its way through upon her words. they resonate for a while, they awaken the fragmented memoirs & they slam open the chest of locked guilt that had his bones ridden for a good time after his father’s death.
❛ —— … yeah. ❜
the quake in her voice suffices as a marker for the significance of dad’s presence in her life & he can’t HELP but think about the fact he’s ripped john winchester out of someone else’s grasp too. if it weren’t for HIM, john would have picked up the phone himself & gave her a reason of joy.
❛ listen, not sure this is the kinda thing that can be casually talked over the phone. tell me what we’re dealin’ with an’ then we should set a meetin’ place. somewhere safe. ❜
This wasn’t the voice she had been expecting, not at all. Her teeth dug into her lower lip as she tried to decide if Dean was to be trusted. John had told her about Dean, about Sam, about his dead wife, he had told her some stuff and he absolutely trusted Dean with hunter business. She trusted John and if Dean had his phone then she could trust Dean. She had no choice anyway, she couldn’t handle this herself.
“Yeah, I kind of heard about you. My name is Nikola and, huh, I guess I can’t talk to your Dad, right ?”
« ———— ├ ᗪ ╰☆╮ ᙡ ┤———— »
❛ … ——– no. not exactly. he … he passed away. few months ago. ❜
he has no knowledge of the woman’s ties with his father, but just in case it was something beyond professional liaisons, he chooses to allow a lull of solemnity.
however, the fact that she shows awareness of his identity COULD be a primary clue that they’d interacted long enough to dive into the details of his privacy.
she can only offer a smile, something that might make up for such a violation of his personal little bubble he had going on— god forbid he ever let anyone get close to him if it meant more than a quickie in the back of his car.
and even if she doesn’t admit it, she did miss him at least a bit. like it or not, the winchesters were a part of her life and dean just happened to be a very hot part.
“the winchester’s breed well.”
« ——– ├ ᗪ ╰☆╮ ᙡ ┤——– »
❛ yeah, truth is you’ve got some funky ways of showin’ your affections. ❜
his breathing is still on the trot & yet to be restored, though his EGO, already scarred by the the implode of jolt, refuses to succumb to the need to patch his respiration together, lost to the greeting whose enjoyment, he will keep to himself.
he really shouldn’t waive against the typical cheekiness that coils the demon’s speech, but dean’s new found facade has a difficult time battling the hedonistic drives. & that’s how he whistles a puff of air through his nostrils, an arresting crane of his lips tugging at one corner.
❛ how flattering. i’m just another winchester to first base, huh ? not exactly fond of gettin’ shoved in the masses. ❜
Her hand was tight around the phone as it was pressed against her cheek. She waited for him to pick up and her voice was calm when she spoke.
“John ? I think that we got a problem.”
« ——– ├ ᗪ ╰☆╮ ᙡ ┤——– »
it’s roughly the tenth time this month when the phone that typically collects dust in the impala quakes the surface of the table the hunter has dispelled sheared articles & PECULIAR books on the topics the winchesters treat so often on. ——– jaw pillared against his fingers, he elevates a look, a name as unfamiliar as ever blazing the screen. the more unknown contacts he discovers in john’s phone, the more he’s starting to realize how LIMITED his knowledge of his father was.
regardless, he answers & is greeted by a fairly ginger tone, tossing him into the procedural reply for all those who seek john winchester & will fail at it.
❛ … yeah, uh —- hi. this, this is dean. his son. all problems get shoved on me now, who am i talkin’ to ? ❜
♞ ❛ Leave your name, number and nightmare at the tone.
FAQ !
TO HAVE AN ASK ANSWERED PRIVATELY, ADD AN "X" BEFORE IT.
WHY WASN'T MY ASK ANSWERED YET?
That is for two reasons: one, Tumblr ate the ask so I never received it or two, I simply haven't gotten to it since I tend to answer all of my asks at once and that implies slowness.
DO YOU ACCEPT ANON ROLEPLAYS?
I do, actually! I don't really dig nonnies for characters such as Sam or Cas, but anything else generally works.
OTHER PSA'S
Magic anons are not accepted.
I tend to not respond to ' pass this to the next 10 people ' in-character memes. Totally random and underrated messages are encouraged.
Crazy spamming of craziness is welcomed.
Any messages seeking advice on personal matters should rather be addressed to the mun for serious treatment.
001 ▌░ I UNFOLLOW untagged NSFW, disturbing triggers ( such as gore, torture & animal cruelty ), inactivity for longer than four weeks & if I don’t see a chance of interaction for us.
002 ▌░ I will role-play only with MUTUALS. Meaning, if I follow you & you follow me, then we can definitely interact.
003 ▌░ ROLE PLAYING: My role playing style consists of scripts, semi paras, paras & novellas, along with icons or ( more rarely ) gif icons. Most of the icons on this blog are edited by me & are fairly easy to distinguish since they are personalized. I really don’t like role playing without an image attached to my replies & chances are I might not interact with you if you don’t do it. I’m sorry, but this is my one insane & unfair pet peeve.
004 ▌░ FANDOMS & OC’S: I'm super open to interactions with OC's, as much as I am with canon characters. What I'm looking for in a canon portrayal needs to be present in an OC, too -- meaning decent grammar, about pages and rules etc. Nothing too extreme, I'd say. Crossovers are my guilty pleasure and given how basically anything is possible in the SPN universe, there aren't limits to the fandoms I can interact with. I might not know much or anything at all about your character/fandom, sometimes; in which case, I'd love to be filled in with some brief information. I won't role play with Winchester siblings, other than Sam and Adam. I won't interact with his sons/daughters.
005 ▌░ ACTIVITY & THREADS: I'm currently on summer break and about to start university in October, when activity might lower. Please be patient with me, since I'm pretty damn slow. I will drop threads out of the blue, specifically unplotted ones or those that are going nowhere. Unfortunately, I won't let you know about this, but you can shoot me a message and politely ask me about it.
006 ▌░ THE SHOW: I'm up to date with the series, aside from a few (boring) S10 episodes I haven't gotten around to watch. I don't have a main verse per say: I can follow the canon timeline or role play in past seasons. It all depends on which setting works best.
007 ▌░ SHIPPING: I’ve always shipped strictly based on chemistry, so if something sparks between our muses and we wish to develop it further, I’m open for it. Please note that Dean is canonically straight, but with a flexible sexuality in AU verses. Shipping is not my main priority, though, mostly because of bad experiences. Also from past experience, I know that Dean is very difficult to engage in a romantic relationship with. On the opposing side, he is fairly easy to engage in sexual relationships with. The younger he is, the more accessible. I don't ship Wincest and Destiel, unless platonic. The only show pairing I ship romantically is Chestervelle.
008 ▌░ NSFW: Despite Dean's inability to keep his lovestick to himself, most strictly sexual smutting will be time skipped. If romance comes into the mix, however, I'm definitely down for writing down the whole deed, for development purposes. Other NSFW content might be present, such as: violence, gore, torture etc.
009 ▌░ GREETERS: In order to avoid bothering people with unwanted starters, I won’t make any of them without receiving permission beforehand. I will most often do starter calls for it.
010 ▌░ ASKS: They can be turned into threads as long as you make new posts for them. If you don’t do it, I’ll know you haven’t read my rules & we won’t interact. Please read the FAQ underneath the askbox. Also, this is a dumb rule, but give the "leaving Dean a pie" messages a break. They are nice in intention, sure, but my inbox is full of them and replying to them has become such a hassle. He likes pie, yeah, but it's not his goddamn oxygen.
011 ▌░ MUSE: My portrayal is heavily influenced by the S1-S5 era, particularly by the pre-Hell seasons. I feel like the latter seasons have stripped Dean of his complexity and he spends most of his time pointlessly brooding, which doesn't personally appeal to me. Therefore, regardless of the season/setting I'm playing him in, he will probably have a pre-Hell aura without me actually trying. If you don't like this, move along and find other portrayals to fit your tastes and don't bother messaging me to change this.
012 ▌░ PLOTTING: If you'd like to plot/discuss a thread, we must interact at least a couple of times first. This way, we can test our chemistry as writers and our muse's chemistry. This is because, I'm aiming to build up long lasting verses that neither of us will lose interest in. For that, I need to be sure that I won't have to force replies because Dean won't cooperate. So - go ahead and interact with me! (: Write me up a starter, reply to an open, like a starter call, y'know the drill! My only request is to keep your starters fairly short, please. I can only reply to long starters if I have an idea about the direction and/or plot.
013 ▌░ ICONS: Personalized icons are not for public use.
If you've read all of this, thank you so much for doing so! I promise I'm much, much friendlier than I come off to be, but I've learned to be as explicit and blunt in my guidelines as possible, in order to ensure everyone's comfort in interactions.
And if you haven't read my rules, I'll likely be able to tell and I reserve the right to ignore your replies/messages.
Mun goes by the name Freya and I'm a nineteen year old girl from Romania, student at International Relations and European Studies with a PhD in lowkey embarassing myself in front of people. I have a Skype, which is available upon request to mutuals and another blog to run.
CHAOTIC GOOD //
combines a good heart with a free spirit.
GRYFFINDOR //
willingness to confront the darkness, to fight for the underdog, to explore and defend.
THE CAREGIVER //
core desire is to help and protect others.
ESTP, "THE DOER" //
blunt, straightforward risk takers, they are ready to jump into the action and get their hands dirty.
AQUARIUS //
don't follow conventional ways and invent new ways to think and implement.
ROWAN, "THE THINKER" //
highly influential, with a natural ability to transform situations and people around them.
TYPE 8, "THE CHALLENGER" //
have difficulty with their tempers and allowing themselves to be vulnerable.
CHOLERIC //
impulsive and restless; task oriented people who seek to get the job done efficiently.
