#halfgraced

@halfgraced​ said:

“I believe in you.”

He can’t help but feel like Jack is putting his faith in the wrong person. It’s one of those moments when Dean feels as though the weight of the world is on his shoulders and he’s just not good enough, or strong enough, or smart enough to do it.

But damn it, he doesn’t want to let the kid down.

halfgraced ; ןคςк кɭเภє & ค๔ค๓/๓เςђคєɭ.

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐆𝐆𝐋𝐄, 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐋 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋. they don’t fight, but they both were now at the opportunity to meet jack. the first time the archangel had been on the bunker, bound and forced to confront the reality of the world, he had not seen the young nephilim. lucifer’s son. his nephew. for adam, it was similar. the winchesters were part of jack’s added and most important family and they were both, if anything curious. but in the end, it was Michael who took the control, blazing blue eyes shine as the angel takes the rains of the body and looks at jack.      His grace is bright and powerful. The archangel can feel it all, half angel, half human, Jack was unique, archangels were rare among angels and none of his siblings ever sired a child. But of course, if one had to, it would be Lucifer. “I heard. . .your meeting with the other Michael wasn’t very warm.” He speaks, having heard from Castiel of the Apocalypse World. Green eyes look back for a moment, stoic but visible emotion in his eyes, the archangel lowers his head in a nod. “I’m sorry our first encounter wasn’t exactly our own.”

halfgraced ; נα¢к кℓιηє & кєℓℓу кℓιηє.

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐆𝐀𝐙𝐄. death had taken her and she had been to heaven. she remembers so little of her time there. vague memories of a garden, all bright and colorful that returning to the bleak reality of the world caused her to shake her head and almost cry about the situation at hand. her boy, her young boy had such power in his hands and she can imagine what he is feeling. the devil was many things, but at least, he gave her this. a child. a son capable of changing the world.          Kelly wakes in one of the rooms from the bunker. she figures she had been brought here after she had collapsed, having found them, at last. Brought back from the dead. By God, by Lucifer? The look on Jack’s face said it haven’t been him, and she incorporates herself at the bed, feeling his presence beside her. “Did you stayed all night, Jack?” she asks, throat sore from lack of water and she is thankful to see a glass by the nightstand, green eyes staring back at Jack with a gentle, tired smile. 

“I remember Castiel never slept. Maybe you don’t either.” He is a young man now, despite his true age being only what? a year? she had lost track of the time. There is a lot about him she doesn’t know. But she has the opportunity now.

halfgraced ; ᴊᴀᴄᴋ ᴋʟɪɴᴇ & ʟᴜᴄɪꜰᴇʀ.

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐈𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎. rage, now that had been his motivation for eons of lock down in the cage. revenge, a search for questions and Armageddon to just start all over. answers never came and hell no longer felt foreign. he had embraced it. but right now; with the young man who is grace of his grace, Lucifer is confused. a child. a nephilim, one he created not because he wanted one but because he could, because of the power. is he not just like God then, creating because he can? The Archangel stands at a distance, knowing that Jack would feel him. Sense him.            “I believe we are due to a talk, kid.” he still wears Nick; no longer going thin, after decades of being locked up in hell, the body had gotten used to Lucifer’s grace. but it’s not Sam, and his grace knows it well, shoulders shake as he is adjusting his grace, his wings before eyes turn to Jack. “No weapons, no Winchesters, no demons, just us. Blood to blood.”

the air was cool, fragrant — something like pine. night had settled above the mountains, stars sparkling like diamonds inset in the blue and black of the sky. a transistor radio sat on a small, rough-hewn table, playing bob dylan — knockin’ on heaven’s door. the cabin was small, quaint, a vintage car parked outside — something from the seventies.

she came outside, the door rattling shut behind her, to find an unsure boy sitting on the porch, glancing aside to him.

‘ hey, kiddo.. you okay? ‘

send me 🗣️ for incorrect quotes of your muse and mine @halfgraced // selectively accepting.

            ❝  IT’S OKAY, KID. I UNDERSTAND NEEDING TO GET AWAY.  ❞  and he understood wanting to figure things out for himself, especially when everyone is being all vague about something. Gabriel had been under the impression that Jack knew what Lucifer was like, what he was CAPABLE of. even if by word of mouth. he’d been told that the Nephilim took after his mother, and the ones who’s care he’d fallen into. the Archangel had just assumed that the brothers had filled him in on his father’s nature.  ❝  look... it’s not wrong, okay? it’s not wrong at all.  ❞  with a sigh, Gabriel sat across from his nephew, keeping a bit of DISTANCE between them so as to not crowd Jack. hand carding through his hair, Gabriel tried to think of a way to phrase this without making it seem exactly like what had Jack so frustrated.  ❝  he’s your dad. NOTHING will change that, and no one can stop you from talking to him, we just want you to be careful, Jack. take it from someone who knows him, and i’ve known him since, well, since the beginning --- he’s dangerous. and not just in the way that you THINK.  ❞