Anael Marie Winchester

Tell me again. What do you remember?

We were at Grandma and Grandpa’s…

Which ones?

Deanna and Samuel Campbell.

Good. What happened while you were there?

The house was surprising cozy and normal looking for it being owned by two never retiring hunters. There was a ranch-style feel to it- something to be expected of couple born and raised in Kansas. The room that always stuck out in Dean’s mind was the guest room that he shared with Sammy whenever they stayed over there. It was like the rest of the house with the old western feel, the touch of antiquity and grandparent style softness of it all. Every visit left Dean with a hazy, blurry feeling- even after ‘the incident.’ Safe to say, Dean- much to his embarrassment- had many a night for the following eight years where he woke up to the damp discomfort and fetid stench of piss stained sheets that could only be the result of a nightmare about a very traumatizing incident from the past. Back to the room. It had a thin yet heavy tan ranch style quilt with matching pillow cases on the pillows and the sheets were a broken in, baby soft brown. There were nightstands on either side of the bed. Along the wall next to the door to the room was a large vanity style oak dresser with a mirror just as long as Sammy, at the age of 8, was tall. There was another taller oak dresser on the wall opposite the bed that sat in a little cubby like space thanks to the closet that jutted out from the wall behind it and was closed off by two large mirrored sliding doors. On the wall above the bed, slightly off center, was a very old, very expensive painting of Jesus Christ holding a sort of amulet dangling from the hand level with his eyeline and a rosary dangling from his other hand that clutched at his robes. There was a window to the left of the painting that was lined with salt. Three large plush, mock persian rugs of the same design covered most of the visible wooden floors, under each was a devil’s trap. The wall opposite the door had squat but abundant and overflowing bookshelves with different knick knacks and toys decorating the top.

This was Dean’s favorite room in all the world.

Dean was haunted by a weekend that he’d spent at his grandparents home. Everyone said it was amazing he remembered the night at all since he was only two when it happened. Mommy had already died but Dean couldn’t remember it. Sammy said it was a fire in his baby brother’s nursery- which made sense since the younger Winchester had an indescribable fear of fire from before he could truly remember. Since Sammy was four years older than him, Dean was inclined to believe his big brother and trust his memory. Daddy wouldn’t talk about it, nor would he discuss the events of ‘the incident’ at his in-laws’ home. It had been late at night and two year old Dean awoke to his big brother Sammy snoring and his own wet diaper. Memaw had warned him about drinking too much before bed but he was two and he wanted his sippy cup of warm milk, like Sammy always gave him as he explained that Mommy used to do that for them. Dean was not very happy to be awake and therefore quite close to tears as he hugged his stuffed moose with a scrap of Daddy’s plaid shirt tied around its neck like a winter scarf and patted his brother’s shoulder until the giant slowly awoke with a sigh and slurred ‘what’s wrong, bud?’ It hadn’t taken the older Winchester long to figure out that his baby brother was in need of a change. As Sam swallowed a moan of frustration and cooed nonsense to his brother, he slipped out of bed and looked around the room before remembering that Memaw had given Dean a bath before bed and the diaper bag was left in the bathroom down the hall.

“Can you walk, De?” Sammy croaked, turning toward his brother as he stood next to the side of the bed closest to the door, the side Dean preferred to sleep on. As Dean reached out to Sam with his moose dangling from one hand by an antler, Sam frowned ever so slightly- despite how it actually warmed his heart and turned him to a pile of useless mush.

They moved down the dark hallway, Dean tucked comfortably tucked into his big brother’s arms and sucking on the pacifier he refused to give up (that John only allowed to keep his youngest calm and quiet since he was a bit more sensitive than his stubborn, thick headed eldest son), towards the bathroom with its open door and faint glow from a soft nightlight. Once Sam had his brother in a better state and in a clean diaper, he opened the door and turned back to Dean. He paused when he heard voices- angry, low toned voices hissing at one another. Dean toddled closer and hugged his big brother’s pajama clad leg, looking up at his brother with fear in his eyes. Sammy felt bad for his baby brother, but he was also about as curious as a cat with all nine lives- very. He led Dean towards the kitchen where only sage scented candles cast their dull glow to allow any sort of light. There sat who they assumed to be Deanna Campbell, their grandmother. In front of her sat two Doberman-like dogs with glowing red eyes and tribal patterns in neon blues, greens and yellows adorning their fit frames. Looking in their eyes and the way they held themselves, Sam swore the two hounds looked familiar.

“Look familiar, Sammy?” The woman questioned, turning to look at him and his baby brother with a sick pleasure on her face. The voice was their grandmother’s but the eyes were cold, dead, and black as midnight when they were cast on the boys.

“Who are you?” Sam warily asked, resting a hand on his brother’s head as the younger started whimper. “What the hell do you want?”

“It’s not so much what I want as what Hell itself wants.” The demon controlling Deanna spoke. “And what it wants is you and your brother.”

“Well good luck with that. You’re already stuck in a devil’s trap, stupid.” Sam pointed out, tensing as her pleasure faded to annoyance and malice.

“Oh, don’t you worry, Daddy and Papa are gonna take good care of both of you.” She spat, pursing her lips in distaste.The two hellhounds straightened up and any familiarity they held prior to her statement and the following snap of her fingers vanished.

“Shit!” Sam breathed, roughly yanking Dean into his arms and dashing towards the guest room.

Dad and Papa- no, the hellhounds were hot on their heels the whole way, snarling and foaming at the mouth for taste of the children in front of them. Sam practically tossed Dean on the bed, forcing himself to ignore the toddler’s screeches of fear, and slammed the door, barricading it as best he could with the most empty but still solid and quite heavy dresser beside the closet. He went to the nightstand below the painting of Jesus and ripped the two drawers out, dumping their contents onto the bed. Sam paused for a second to slip Dean’s pacifier back into his mouth to lessen the younger’s cries- not that it did much- and began to dig through all the little pieces of jewelry, amulets, charms and tiny herb bags. Just as the hellhounds were starting to make progress on scratching and ramming through the door and dresser blocking it, the distinct sound of the front door being kicked in sounded through house and reverberated through the structure. Sam looked up as the sound of the snarls retreated and a familiar voice was heard shouting near the front door. There was only one person that voice could belong to.

“Get outta her, you black eyed bitch!” Bobby Singer’s voice roared through the house.

Sam sighed in relief as he found the amulet he was looking for. It was the amulet of Christ, the one from the painting- the painting done by Jesus’ very first disciple. He clutched it in his fist and carelessly shoved the dresser back in its nook. Then, he took Dean in his arms and ran out the kitchen where their Uncle Bobby had barely managed to tie down their possessed Memaw and was wrestling with the two hellhounds, one of which he proceeded to shoot with a specially made bullet that was filled with holy water and made from melted down demon blades, which they had collected off the bodies that had formerly been inhabited by various demons. The hellhound collapsed to the floor and morphed back into Samuel Campbell, their beloved Papa, who began to sputter and cough up blood as the wound in his chest bled out.

“Uncle Bobby! Stop!” Sam shouted as Dean wailed in his ear and the bitch inhabiting their Memaw cackled gleefully. “That’s Dad!”

“For fuck’s sake, Sammy! Get back in the goddamn bedroom with your brother!” Bobby shouted, grunted as he used his shotgun to hold the remaining hellhound off.

“DON’T SHOOT HIM!” Sam hollered once more, freezing as the hellhound turned its attention towards him and his screaming baby brother, staring long and hard at the amulet dangling from the older’s hand, after being thrown back by their uncle.

“RUN GODDAMMIT!” Bobby bellowed, reloading despite Sam’s argument.

The elder Winchester booked it out the sliding glass door that led to the backyard. The hellhound that was formerly their father growled and snapped as it lurched forward in attempt to nab one of the brothers- flinching away from the amulet when Sam used his free hand to hold out behind him to protect himself. He scrambled up to the top of the slide connected to the swing set and perched on the topmost support beam with Dean hugged to his chest. He said a prayer under his breath and swallowed his own panic as he wiped his baby brother’s face with the sleeve of his pajama top. Over the barking and snarling of the mad hound that so far seemed incapable of climbing up to get them, they heard screams of pure agony from inside. Uncle Bobby had to be exorcising the Demon. His gruff deep voice could barely be made out over all the other sounds that broke through the once peaceful midsummer night. After what felt like an eternity, the screams stopped and the hellhound became utterly docile and calmed until it laid on the ground in show of submission. Their uncle came out to fetch them, warily eyeing the former John Winchester as the patterns on his fur glowed softer than before. Once they were sat down in the kitchen, across the table from their dead Memaw and beside their dead Papa on the floor, with Sam in a chair across from Bobby who held a sniffling and clingy Dean in his lap while the John-hound lay quietly at their feet. Once Dean was sufficiently calmed, Bobby cleared his throat and stopped as Dean whined in distress when the John-hound nudged his foot with his cold, wet nose, who was rewarded with a good kick to the snout for his efforts to comfort his son.

“He ain’t gonna hurt ya no more, Duckie.” Bobby soothed, bouncing the toddler on his knee and kissing his forehead. “And if he tries, I’ll shoot ‘im.”

“Uncle Bobby?” Sammy hesitantly prompted, hugging his knees to his chest.

“Yer Daddy will be just fine. Just a spell. He’ll back to ‘is old self in a couple days.” Bobby responded, wiping a few tears from Dean’s chubby cheeks. “Me an’ the fellas looked into all this before I got here. Had a feelin’ them black eyed bastards had somethin’ in mind. Didn’t hurt that a similar incident happened about a month ago.”

“So he’s just gonna be dog for awhile?” Sam asked, an uncertain look on his face as he eyed his morphed father.

“There’s no safe way to turn ‘im back far as I know.” Bobby affirmed, looking down at his fellow hunter and friend with a huffed sigh. “Ya sure know how to get into some messed up shit, ya idjit…”

The John-hound whined and huffed.

“Yeah, yeah, quit yer bitchin’.” Bobby teased. “Ya think you and yer brother’ll be able to get back to sleep?”

Sam shook his head as Dean fussed and rubbed at his eyes. “Didn’t think so. We’ll call the authorities and say it was a home invasion. That way no one will go snoopin’ or come lookin’ for no one.” Bobby voiced, grabbing the landline and dialing 911. “After that, we’ll head back to my place and wait things out till yer Dad’s back to normal.”

From there it played out just as Bobby Singer had promised it would. The authorities accepted the story of the home invasion and Bobby’s heroic arrival- claiming he had been coming over to pick up the kids for some bonding time but arriving late due to car trouble (the mechanic cringed at that particular part of the lie). They then headed back to Bobby’s with Sam and Dean dozing and cuddled up in the backseat while the John-hound sulked in the front passenger seat, curled up into a ball, occasionally huffing, whining or softly yipping in response to whatever Bobby said. A few weeks later, the Campbell property and all its contents were sold off to one Robert Singer since none of the designated recipients of that part of the estate were still alive to claim them. The shabby but impressive for a hunter savings was put aside for the brothers whenever they came of age. No one knew that Bobby had purchased and deep cleaned the property to one day hand over to the brothers if either ever managed to retire.

You have excellent recall for being so young when it all happened.

I didn’t want to forget so I had Sammy and Bobby re-tell it over the years. We do it once a year on the day that Deanna and Samuel Campbell died.

Why would you want to remember such a horrible night? Wouldn’t you rather have them remind you of all the other visits where you were simply a toddler playing at his Memaw and Papa’s?

No. That’s not who I was, who any of them were.

Interesting…

What?

When your brother recalls that date, it’s a very different story.

What do you mean?

We’ll get to that in just a moment. First, do you remember what I had you recite when we first started?

Yeah?

Say it for me one more time.

My name is Dean Winchester. I am the son of Mary Campbell and John Winchester. My older brother is Sam Winchester. I was born on May 2nd, 1983. My grandparents died as result of a plot by demons and a family friend and fellow hunter’s attempt to save them and us. I am a hunter of the supernatural and vessel of the archangel Michael. I am told to be the Righteous Man.

The way your brother tells it quite different in some aspects.

Like what?

You are the older brother to Sam Winchester. You were not born on May 2nd, 1983 because that is your brother’s birthday. Your birthday is January 24th, 1979. You never met your grandparents and neither did he because they died the night your mother eloped with your father and were allegedly left vulnerable to the yellow eyed demon that your brother names as Azazel. He states that the entire incident you have recited to me never occurred. So which one of you truly remembers? Are you who you say you are?

I… I am Dean Winchester… and I…

You what?

I remember…?

#supernatural roleplay #supernatural rp #supernatural #spn #spn rp #spnfamily #dean and Cas baby

If you’ve made it this far, congrats! Above is the legit the hellhound I had a nightmare about. I think this is a good place to call it quits. So enjoy this little blurb that is legitimately based off of last night’s featured nightmare and tweaked to make a full blown short story revolving around everyone’s favorite Winchesters.

godofavengers

Supernatural writers: we did the right thing by killing off Cas for a few episodes

Sam: you fucked up a perfectly good Dean Winchester is what you did look at it it’s got anxiety.

just-shower-thoughts

Do you know that tingly sensation you get when you really like someone? That is common sense, leaving your body.

gumtooth

the sun has no business tapping out at the tender hour of 5pm bitch i have depression

denpasei

For electrikfeather. I love commissions because sometimes I get to draw stuff I like but would never draw otherwise ♥ (Since this is a commission, please do not reuse for anything)

Anael is unsure how to feel about her rapid growth. She doesn’t dislike how she looks but it’s too different. She has knowledge that she doesn’t grasp and the thoughts and feelings she has are conflicting and confusing. She just wants everything to go back to that way it was....

inboxideas

My character vanishes one day. About a year later your character spots them out in public with a baby! How does your character react?

louisandharold

Just want to say:

•I’m sorry if I ever miss a follow forever you’ve included me in

•I’m sorry if I ever miss a tag/challenge you’ve tagged me in to do

•I’m sorry if you’ve mentioned/tagged me in any sort of post and I haven’t replied

•I’m sorry if you message me and I don’t reply straight away

I would never ignore anything anyone has included me in purposely so if I don’t respond I’ve honestly missed it. Please don’t think I’m being a bitch and ignoring you

ohiwasonlyfallinginlove-deactiv

SO IMPORTANT

“P-Papa?” Anael called softly, a baby pink sheet draped around her shoulders and thumb halfway into her mouth. Her eyes were puffy and red, her nose stuffed up, and face covered in dried tear tracks. She stood around five foot five inches with long, thick chocolate hair.

Gabriel looked up in confusion, already working to take the mask off of his face, despite his sons warnings not to, so that he could speak unhindered. He almost didn’t recognize the girl in the doorway to the infirmary, but soon recognized her grace/soul signature. “Ana?” He asked softly, trying to sit up in his bed.

Anael nodded tearfully and came to his bedside, sitting on the edge. She grabbed his hand in hers with her free hand and played with it.

“Wha’ ‘appen’d?” Anael quietly asked, concerned by the fact that he was laid up in the infirmary.

Gabriel smiled reassuringly at her, gently squeezing her hand. “Papa had to deal with a bad guy and got hurt. But don’t worry, I’m going to be just fine. My doctor son patched me all up, good as new!” He leaned over so that he could brush a few strands of hair away from her face.

Anael wiggled her way further onto the bed and snuggled up to him. She buried her face in his chest and kept her thumb planted in her mouth.

“S’ared, Papa,” Anael confessed, fisting a hand in his shirt. “Don’ wanna be big…”

“I know sweet bee…” Gabriel wrapped his arms around her, not use to have to reach around her so much, and hugged her close. He brushed her hair back and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “We can figure this out.”

“‘Liesa say Daddy get me home...” Anael murmured, yawning around her thumb. “Daddy know?”

just-shower-thoughts

Froot loops are just gay Cheerios

Anael nodded tearfully and came to his bedside, sitting on the edge. She grabbed his hand in hers with her free hand and played with it.

“Wha’ ‘appen’d?” Anael quietly asked, concerned by the fact that he was laid up in the infirmary.

Anael wiggled her way further onto the bed and snuggled up to him. She buried her face in his chest and kept her thumb planted in her mouth.

“S’ared, Papa,” Anael confessed, fisting a hand in his shirt. “Don’ wanna be big...”

Bringing Home Baby Girl

Dean laid back, the twins in his arms. He still couldn’t believe that he incubated and birthed these beautiful beings. They were so calm and sweet, not to mention very cuddle oriented from the get go… The more he thought about it, the more his heart hurt. There was his other baby girl, Anael laying motionless under a blanket with her chest wide open. Dean struggled as he looked between Micah and Raven, unsure of whether he could go through with the remainder of the ritual. He definitely couldn’t do it alone, but he couldn’t subject Cas to it either. He only had one other option- mostly because Gabriel and Sam didnt need to witness what they would have to do to bring An back from the empty, if she even existed anymore…

Dean carefully laid Micah down in the bassinet and shifted his hold on Raven. He cooed sweet nothings to her when she stirred with a whine. After grabbing his phone, he went into his contacts and dialed his Origin self.

@driver-picks-the-music-67

After getting his other self’s voicemail, Dean realized that he wasn’t going to wait. He’d already waited too long for comfort. Poor Baby Bee was probably scared out of her mind and fading fast. No parent should have to live longer than their child and Dean would be damned- again- if he was going to outlive little Anael Marie.

“I’m so sorry, Micah, Raven,” Dean whispered broke as tears burned his eyes. “But we have to bring sissy back, Daddy can’t let her go…”

He got up from the bed on wobbly legs and made sure both of them were cradled comfortably to his chest. He went over to Anael’s vacant body, and laid the twins beside her. He took up a scalpel that had been left behind and took a deep breath. Dean hated every second. He hated knowing what he had to do. But this was how it worked wasn’t it?

“Forgive me, my sweet little ravens,” Dean choked, trying to hold back the tears as he wrapped them in his grace and made tiny incisions into the most prominent veins on their tiny, soft heads. Micah was the first to awaken and wail his tiny lungs out and Raven joined soon after. Dean cried out his apologies, “I know, I know! Daddy’s so sorry… so so sorry…”

He quickly took them in his arms and let the blood trickle into Anael’s chest as he spoke the incantation- he crammed on learning Gaelic just for the sake of the life and death rituals which he’d only been able to find in old Celtic texts.

“Glaoim ar na biotálle, glaoim ar na mairbh, lig dom mo dhaor Anael Marie a fheiceáil aris. Glacaim ormsa leat teacht ormsa le chéile aris. Ba mhaith liom a fheiceáil cé a iarrann mé, a chailleann mé mar sin…” Dean whispered, focusing his thoughts on his lost daughter. She had to come back. Dean quickly healed the twins with his grace and did his best to soothe them as he too cried out his pain.

He returned to bed and what seemed like hours but was only minutes, he and the twins were sleeping peacefully as Anael’s body started to slowly knit itself back together beneath the sheet soaked with Celestial flower tainted blood that soaked through and into her corpse.

hellagayangelofthelord-deactiva

There once was time when I was their baby girl. I dreamed in color and spoke in the language of life. I kissed stars in secret and painted pictures with the stars. I slept in their arms without a fear.

But then the world unraveled around me.

The colors all swirled together in madness, I dismayed until it all became white noise for my eyes then dimmed and grayed till all that was left was blackness. I dreamt only in the darkest grays and blackest pits of the insane. The sky is no longer my friend- what friend would swallow you whole?

Once I was a little girl with stars in my eyes. I loved and learned, safe in their arms. But that was once upon a time in a world that still loved me. Now when I look above, I see nothing but The Empty.

“Hello?” Anael called out, uncertain and unfamiliar with her own voice. “Is someone here?”

She’d been in the empty so long, she lost track of time. She could’ve been there for years for all she knew. She didn’t know anything of the outside world and she didn’t know how to get out or even if she could. After turning in what she assumed to be a circle, she came face to face with someone she hadn’t seen before.

“Who are you?” Anael asked, hugging herself in discomfort.

“You don’t know?”

Anael shook her head and the other person slowly materialized before her. It was a young woman, around her early teens, who looked a lot like Anael in some ways, though her hair was down to her knees and had honey colored highlights when the light from their wings shone just right.

“My name is Annaliesa. I was conceived before you were even possible.” She explained in a soft voice.

“You’re part angel too…” Anael observed.

“That’s right. Daughter of the Holy Man and the Rebel Angel.” Annaliesa responded.

“So am I…” Anael puzzled, unsure of how it was possible.

“Ah but you have the soul and grace of the Originals while I am from a much darker world.” Annaliesa explains circling around her. “Thought it seems Daddy finally found the right way. You’ve progressed faster than I have.”

“What do you mean?” Anael pressed, alarmed by her accusation. Was she fading faster? Would she stop existing altogether? How long had Annaliesa been here?

“I mean Daddy finally found the correct resurrection ritual.” Annaliesa elaborated, taking a section of her hair and toying with it as her ebony and eggplant colored wings shimmered and stretched. “You get to go back.”

“Don’t you?”

“No, Anael. I have no way to go back. My body was incinerated long ago by the same monsters that took you from the Originals.” Annaliesa lamented. “Do me a favor and tell Daddy I said hi…? And that I love him…”

Before Anael could ask anymore questions or try to grasp all that she had learned, Annaliesa hugged her and shoved her through a tunnel of light.

The last words she heard the girl speak were, “Jeg elsker deg, soster…”

==>

Outside, the sky just barely began glow as the sun tiptoed its way up into it. For a brief moment, a comet flashed through the sky. Daddy was still sleeping on the bed, but now had two new additions to the world cradled in his arms. Anael’s body had fully repaired and even changed in those few hours that he’d been asleep. Her fingers and feet twitched subtly beneath the sheet, the movements slowly creeping up her arms and legs until she was breathing once more. Her eyes slowly opened and she pulled the sheet away. Had she died? Why was she completely covered in a sheet? Why was no one around checking on her. She lifted a hand to her face to rub at her eyes and stopped when it was only inches away. That wasn’t right… Here hands were slender and strong, foreign to her when she swore she’d been a tiny child before. Was this what Annaliesa meant about progressing? Had she legitmately grown overnight? She slowly sat up and realized the rest of her had grown too. She had two mounds of flesh on her chest- breasts, her mind supplied from of her Daddy’s memories that she’d sorted through in the past when he was asleep and she had awoken. This was too strange for her…

Anael slowly got up from the bed she’d been placed on and crept to the bathroom, unashamed of her nudity. She softly closed the door behind her and turned towards the glint of the mirror as her sea foam wings, which had also grown, glowed and revealed her outline. She was much taller now, slender but curvy… She took a deep breath and reached for the light switch with a shaky hand. Once she flipped the switch and saw herself, she gasped and backed away until she hit the wall.

No… No, no, no! This wasn’t right! She was a baby girl! She wasn’t this stranger in the mirror! She was Danny’s little wifey! Daddy’s sweet little daisy and Vati’s baby bee! She was Papa Gabe’s little angel!

She sank to the floor and hugged her knees to her chest as the tears came and she silently wept, slipping her thumb in her mouth as if she were still the same two year old that they held in their arms only days ago.

“I don’t know why I just can’t let it go… Memory’s old but I just can’t let it go. The idea’s gone but I just can’t let it go… In the light, right here in the light, Right here in the, hold me and don’t you ever let this die…” - The Lumineers

@hellagayangelofthelord

@driver-picks-the-music-67

Cas was sitting in their shared bedroom after Dean left when he felt a strange echo in his chest that he recognized as his grace. It was his bond with Anael… that had somehow been renewed. His furrowed his brow and jumped up, scanning the room. Anael was back. He didn’t know how, or why, but he had to get to her.

He immediately teleported to RR Dean’s, his eyes widening in shock at the full grown woman in front of him. His baby girl… no longer a baby.

hellagayangelofthelord-deactiva

“Vati…?” She choked out as she looked up when she heard his familiar wing beats. “Help…”

She dove towards his legs from her spot on the floor and cling to him for dear life. Her wings drooped behind her in her sorrow. This is far from what she wanted.

“Ana…” Cas knelt, drawing her into his arms. “What… how are you…?” He swallowed hard. “How are you… here right now?”