{ This got more violent than my usual posts, so just a heads up to anyone reading. }
( @angelwithoutleave )
No one knows what it's like
To be hated
To be fated
To telling only lies
The lyrics played ironically in Dean’s ear, causing him to smile to himself as he sat at the end of the bar in a near empty, hole in the wall type place. It was a good song, despite a few of the bar patrons grumbling about slow music ruining the mood of the night. Raising the fifth glass of whiskey that night to his lips, Dean decided that he liked the music choice. It was calming, something that seemed to help the itch that was getting stronger. While his new found power seemed to be nothing but perks, it indeed came with a downside. The need to kill was like a drug and without blood on his hands, he felt like a junkie going through withdrawals. His treasured First Blade rested heavily against his back under his jacket, reminding him of how easy it would be to satisfy that hunger then and there. So many people, so many victims. A woman at the other end of the bar caught his eye with a giggle, and he gave her a smile as he took another drink of blessed and burning liquid.
It wasn’t until the music cut out completely that the demon looked around from where he was perched on the stool. Two burly looking biker types were at the jukebox. One of them had pulled the plug, causing the bartender to look annoyed and keep a close watch on them. “Goddamn whiny ass sissy song ruinin’ my night!” the bearded one complained as his friend nodded in agreement. “Why don’t you get some real music in here, Bill?” he asked the bartender accusingly.
Before Bill could answer, Dean spoke up. “I actually liked that song. The Who are classics.” His tone was nonchalant, no challenge or fight in his expression at all. The men at the jukebox didn’t take it that way, though.
“You got a problem with me, small fry?” the bearded man asked.
Dean couldn’t help a small smirk at the nickname. It seemed that his new friend had a hankering for a fight, and being the good samaritan that Dean was, he couldn’t refuse. Picking up his glass, he got up from the bar stool and strolled across the room towards the jukebox. “I got a problem with you comin’ in here and ruinin’ everyone’s night with your bitching,” he said as casually as though stating his favorite type of weather. “And I definitely got a problem with someone who doesn’t like The Who. That’s just un-american.”
Bearded man’s friend took a step forward in what Dean assumed was supposed to be a threatening way. By now, all eyes in the bar were on the three men, waiting in anticipation for what was about to go down. Despite it all, Dean still looked as though it were completely normal and he wasn’t bothered a bit. Once again, it was beardy who spoke up. “You best mind who your talkin’ to, son. If I were you, I’d finish your drink and get while you still can.”
“Right. Sorry,” Dean said, lifting his free hand in a sign of surrender. “That’s my bad. I didn’t realize I was interrupting a date.” He looked to the silent friend who had his hands balled up in fists by now. “I hope he at least got you flowers to make up for this disaster.”
The first move came from the man who did the talking. Dean saw the action out of the corner of his eye and easily ducked the right hook that came his way. In a graceful, seamless move, he downed the rest of his whiskey as he straightened, then turned and shoved the glass into the beaded man’s face. It shattered instantly, shards embedding into the man’s cheeks, causing him to howl in pain. The woman at the bar screamed and the bartender grabbed a baseball bat.
The silent friend, horrified by the amount of blood pouring from his companion’s face, yelled in anger and lunged at Dean. Once again, the demon was too fast, able to dodge it before sending his own fist into the biker’s face. As though a flood gate opened, the casual happy-go-lucky exterior that he once wore was gone, replaced by a blood thirsty madman. He sent punch after punch, cross after jab, effectively breaking his opponent’s nose and jaw.
It wasn’t until something heavy hit him hard across the back that he fell forward and broke his momentum. The biker had fallen to his knees, clutching his badly beaten face as he glanced to his friend who still had large pieces of glass protruding from his cheeks. Regaining his footing, Dean stood and turned to see Bill the bartender, bat in hand. His expression took on that of an adult chiding a wayward child as he shook his head.
The bat was swung again, but this time Dean caught it. He yanked it free from Bill’s grasp and sent a front kick to his gut, causing the bartender to fly across the room and slam into the bar counter. Turning his attention back to beardy who was still kneeling on the floor, the demon swung the bat mercilessly at his head. “At least he ain’t thinkin’ of the glass no more,” he commented in amusement to the biker friend behind him. With that, he swung again and again, going to town on the man’s face until not even the beard could be recognizable in the bloody pulp.
A spray of red stained Dean’s front and he stood to wipe some away from his face. It was then that he caught sight of the woman still at the bar, the only person left in the building. Her eyes were wide and it seemed that she was too afraid to move. He blinked once, his eyelids opening to reveal pure black eyes as he stared back at her. “Now’s when you run,” he told her in a show of mercy. Snapping to, she gasped and ran as fast as she could from the place.
Walking towards the bar, Dean chucked the bat at the bottles on display behind it. They shattered and the liquid flowed freely, pooling together on the floor. He pulled a matchbook from his pocket and lit one of them using the stubble on his jawline, then casually chucked the match at the spilled liquor. It went up instantly, consuming the entire countertop of the bar.
Pleased with himself, Dean made his way outside in the cool night air, not bothered by the bartender and the still breathing biker who ran screaming out behind him. They were too distracted with their own injuries and the fire to worry about catching him. He turned the corner down a small alleyway, singing softly to himself the tune he couldn’t get out of his head. “But my dreams, they aren't as empty, as my conscience seems to be.”
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Rowena peered from around the corner. Why was she doing this? It was not only dangerous, it was intolorably stupid. Lucifer still believed her dead. If he saw her, he would surely finish her off. But she had to talk to Castiel. Even if it meant possible danger. Of course, she would stay far away, until the time came. Until she knew it was safe. "Please bloody work."
She slowly stepped out and bgan to recite the spell, rather softly. She would not be seen, until she knew it was safe. After saying the final words, she nervously stepped over in his direction. "Castiel?" She asked quickly. "Castiel love can you hear me?" She was quite nervous, being in this close of a proximity to Lucifer...But she had to talk to him immediately. @angelwithoutleave
“I’m jealous, I’m overzealous
When I’m down, I get real down
When I’m high, I don’t come down
I get angry, baby, believe me
I could love you just like that
And I could leave you just this fast
But you don’t judge me
‘Cause if you did, baby, I would judge you too
No, you don’t judge me
‘Cause if you did, baby, I would judge you too
You do shit on purpose
You get mad and you break things
Feel bad, try to fix things
But you’re perfect
Poorly wired circuit
And got hands like an ocean
Push you out, pull you back in
‘Cause you don’t judge me
'Cause if you did, baby, I would judge you too
No, you don’t judge me
'Cause you see it from same point of view
'Cause I got issues
But you got 'em too
So give 'em all to me
And I’ll give mine to you
Bask in the glory
Of all our problems
'Cause we got the kind of love
It takes to solve 'em
Yeah, I got issues
And one of them is how bad I need you”
Mostly Dean...and that's mostly when when he's drunk and feeling extra affectionate...which almost always turns into a handsy makeout session
Gets jealous the most
Definitely Dean, but Castiel is very protective over his hunter. But Dean being able to easier pick up on the social norms of flirting~ he can usually tell faster than Castiel, when someone is abruptly hitting on his angel. He usually responds with a flamboyant display of pride. Pointing out that Castiel is in fact, adorable, hot as hell, and his angel. Sometimes adding a public and passionate kiss to rub in his point to the stranger.
Picks the other up from the bar when they’re too drunk to drive
This one, is, and always will be Castiel. Dean isn't shy about his alcohol addiction~
Takes care of on sick days
If Castiel got sick or injured as much as Dean does, Dean would certainly be by his side. He's a little sassy with his bedside manners but he gets the job done. On the other hand, Dean's illnesses and injuries never last long when Castiel has his grace.
Drags the other person out into the water on beach day
Dean loves the beach, but the nature of his work doesn't leave much time for vacationing. Nevermind the fact, Kansas is surrounded by land. When they have the time, Castiel would surprise Dean by flying him to different beaches around the world. (Like the Caribbean, since Dean loves the Pirate movies). But not without Dean taking him to shop for ridiculously patterned bathing suits first.
Gives unprompted massages
Dean, again. He's certainly the touchy feely one (when they're alone).
Drives/rides shotgun
Dean always drives. Castiel insists that flying is quicker and more convenient, only agreeing to drive because he knows how much Dean enjoys it. Dean insists that's driving is relaxing and doesn't make him constipated for two weeks. So unless it's absolutely necessary to fly, driving it is.
Brings the other lunch at work
Well, I don't think "Hunter" and "Angel of the Lord" are job titles one considers as "work". But Dean knows Castiel doesn't eat unless prompted to, or to give Dean the company. So, usually Dean acquires his own food, or goes out with Sam, while he's working on a case.
Has the better parental relationship
Neither one of their dads deserve "Father of the Year" but I would say Dean~ sure he has abandonment issues, because his mother died and his dad was, well. Very John. But Mary and John both loved their children more than anything and didn't abandon them during the apocalypse (on purpose)....
Tries to start role-playing in bed
And again, Dean. He has a slight fetish for theatricals. His favorites include cowboy hats and lab coats. Paging Dr. Sexy.
Embarrassingly drunk dancer
Castiel doesn't dance. Unfortunately Dean does...when he's drunk...and there's karaoke offered at the bar....do I need to say anymore?
Still cries watching Titanic
Well, if Balthazar didn't unsink the Titanic to get rid of said move~ Dean would definitely get emotional. Every. Single. Time. No chick flick moments, my ass.
Firmly believes in couples costumes
Dean, for friggin' sure. Though he has a hard time coming up with ones for outside the bedroom....
Breaks the expensive gift rule during Christmas
Castiel, this time. Dean always refuses to celebrates holidays and birthdays. But Castiel and Sam never listen and always celebrate anyway. Castiel reminds Dean his family is small, but they love him and that always deserves celebration. (Dean says he's clearly been watching too many Disney movies, but he knows the angel is right.)
Makes the other eat breakfast
Dean doesn't need to be reminded to eat...ever. Castiel always joins him for the sake of keeping him company though.
Remembers anniversaries
Definitely Castiel, Sam always has to remind Dean when the dates are close so he doesn't forget. But on the occasion he does actually forget, he always has his quirky special ways of making it up to his angel. 😝
Brings up having kids
Dean had never wanted his own family until Cas. Aside from the fact, it's sort of physically impossible (and nephilims are a bitch). They've talked about it, sure. But they both agree it wouldn't be a good idea with their lifestyle.
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And do Castiel's because I love you, I swear (angelwithoutleave)
Angel with a Shotgun : The CabIn the Name of Love : Martin Garricx ft. BebeStand By You : Rachel PlattenAll of my Love : Led Zeppelin Fallen Angel : Three Days GraceDevil’s Backbone : The Civil Wars
🐦: Which of your muses is the vainest? 🐷: Which of your muses is the naughtiest?
🐦 Ok, vainest. Definitely Lucifer, hands down. Dean can be at times, but in all reality he talks more of himself than he actual thinks is true. Lucifer fully embraces his narcissism with zero fucks given.
🐷Naughtiest…that’s actually sort of tough. They all have their dark sides. If we’re talkin’ sexually it’s a toss up between Dean and Harley. But I’m still leaning more towards Dean. Harley uses her language and body for persuasion but hardly ever commits the act. Dean on the other hand….he won’t say no when it’s offered. Especially if there’s busty Asian beauties involved. (Or a certain black haired, blue eyed angel/vampire)
If we’re talking all around bad. Lucifer would certainly take that cake. He does what he wants, when he wants, as long as he is getting something out of it for himself.