HAUSTE.

TELL ME ABOUT THE DREAM WHERE we pull the bodies out of the lake, and dress them in warm clothes again.

samuel henry winchester of cw's supernatural rp blog, s1-5 centered. crossover, multiverse, multiship, oc & ship friendly. originally est. 2011 , mun 25+. #prodigil. affiliated with @picksmusic.

hercules. | @variations

if dean were with him, he'd scream bloody murder. sam is sure of it, practically swallows inert rage before it can form, adversary to his very soul: your brother is burning in hell. the impala swings in a wild arc, spinning to a standstill at the mouth of the cul-de-sac. onyx streaks chase the rippling tires, clawing tarry scars upon the asphalt. he waits. waits, waits, even as richie fusses about the crumpled splay of contorted limbs reassembling itself into staggering towers.

only when the beast has raised it's head does sam thrust his heel into the floor of the impala, pedal noisily creaking beneath the wedge of his work boot. the impala torpedos clean through the fatty viscera the grill eagerly spears, bisecting the thing in two; it's legs grind under spinning wheels, it's torso tumbling across the hood of the cabin.

hercules. | @pinnedwings

' then, don't. '

hercules. | @variations

' i'm good. '

up comes "keith"'s forearm, bare to the junction of the elbow, dishwater a sheen crawl that halts halfway up the tract of bone. saturation wrinkles his fingertips, an old rag wicking off the excess that he summarily tosses aside. sam sidles up to the bar front, rolling out his shoulders as his coworker takes her break. he leans across the countertop, folds his toned arms one over the other.

sam enjoying a delicious popsicle

but lucifer, imo, loves sam. not in a good, normal, healthy way, but in a possessive, obsessive, ownership way. in a narcissistic way. sam is his property, sam is an extension of himself, and that is the only way he can love sam. he hates all other humans and of course demons. he only genuinely loves other angels (and even then.. he's clearly okay with killing them, if not happy to.)

he sees sam as his. as a thing that he owns and cherishes, as a precious object. he does not see sam as an individual.

this is what creates the kind of boiling rage he'd have to experience to rape sam imo. like, michael hurt sam in the cage plenty, but it was all.. beatdowns, angelic abilities, atomizing, etc. like corporal punishment but worse. i just cannot see michael raping sam. the sense of power there isn't something he wants or needs, he is already superior, he's furious about being in the cage but some part of him has to know that its partly his fault he's here; he grabbed onto sam himself, if he didnt he wouldve stayed topside.

but lucifer has a "personal connection". sam is his dog and he bit him. that cant go unpunished. i have to imagine being put back in his prison is an enormous mental destabilizer to begin with, but knowing it was your vessel that did this to you, the thing you think is beneath you by all means and simply an object, an item, it totally makes sense to me that lucifer would find any means he can to hurt sam.

hercules. | @soulmissed

' no. no--no ones gonna get hurt. ' a soft usher of rejection comes as a blanket of comfort; if only sam could cast off august's disquiet, soothe craggy wounds. the sour undertone that fields sublingual holds in sam's mouth, never for august's ears: only me. ' i.. dean and i are, figuring out a plan. alright, auggie? it's, it's gonna work. we're gonna stop this in it's tracks, before anything else happens. ' categorized wildfires and earthquakes off the richter scale, hurricanes knocking out power grids, disaster come to swallow the entire world--it wasn't in sam's power to abate the rules of nature.

but shoving the devil back in his lock box was different. he swallows. maybe the boy should hear the truth: it was going to slam them like freight trains soon enough. a swan dive without even a note seemed cruel.

phrases like "i'd never hurt you" and "i want to give you everything" are like instant trigger phrases for sam. they're two of the reoccuring things lucifer said to him and has ground deep into his bones. the panic into a full on collapsing attack will almost always imminently occur.

this isn't an uncommon slant to the cloak-and-dagger aspect of hunting. communities of inhumans and their associated ilk (witches, cultists, consortium) were insular, camaraderie tightly knit into shared speciation. sam doesn't let his distrust show on his face, fingering the FBI placard tucked into his breast pocket. ' ma'am, regardless of that--infraction, which, i'm willing to overlook if you cooperate--i still have to do my job. intentionally withholding information from the FBI is a federal crime. i only want justice for the victims, here, just like i'm sure you do. '

those narrow brows crook upward, toward the dense bridge of bone. there is suggestion in their quirk: the noose of confession is tightening, and now is the time to sound off. ' it's not in my interest to take anyone into custody that isn't our perp if i can help it. you and your mother have nothing to worry about if you haven't done anything. ' said with a placating smile, a tightness to the corners of his mouth.

hercules. | @topshelfperverts

a seize of the windpipe puffs an air of a laugh from sam's chest, an eke of sound before he can swallow it down. it lacks bite or amusement, and certainly isn't at bob's expense: its the irony. sam palms the outskirts of his opposite deltoid, slides his fingers the length of his arm, and nests them about the outer heel of his palm. making himself smaller soothes.