Family Don't Mean Blood

"You stupid, stupid son of a bitch. Well, boo-hoo! I am so sorry your feelings are hurt, princess! Are you under the impression that family's supposed to make you feel good, make you an apple pie, maybe? They're supposed to make you miserable! That's why they're family!" {Bobby Singer Blog Affiliated with Academy of Despair} 0 deaths | 0 executions | 0 kills

[inthemiddleofidgits]

He wasn't really one for Halloween, but he did like the sound of those drunk potions.

[littlelieeater]

Babysitting Job

[The islands were oddly interesting, almost fun; at the same time they were almost terrifying. Monsters, killing, all sorts of scary things were talked about a lot of the time. What was supposed to be done about something like that, well she had no clue, but what she did know was that there was only one way for a child, such as her, to fight off all the scary things. Simply put, she would have as much fun as she could manage, and hopefully it would be lots and lots! The more fun, the more you could forget scary things, right? She wanted to play, eat sweets and have all the fun!

Whether or not she actually understood the weight of the situation, it was hard to tell. As a child still fresh from her egg, the idea of death wasn’t something she could have had full understanding of, even if she had witnessed it before. It was something she would try her best not to think about. This was like a vacation! That was the best way to look at it all.

One very important question, sadly, was where could she find her fun? Books were too hard to read, Papa probably didn’t want to play with her, and she had no clue about anything else around here. She didn’t even know anyone, to be honest.]

"Word chains?"

[No she couldn’t play that by herself.]

"Cards?"

[She didn’t think she knew any single player card games so that wouldn’t work.]

"Um… Um… Uh…"

[Hide and go seek, I spy, and tag were all out of the question too. What kind of games could a girl play on her own. The girl scratched at her head with both hands, messing up her hair, and the earmuffs that covered the pointed ears.]

"Looking around!"

[Well it might not have been the ‘funnest’ option exactly, but it would work, right? It gave her something to do, and possibly secret places to find… How did you even know if a place was secret anyway? A small frown touched her face, confusion only growing. What was she even trying to do anymore? Too much thinking was beginning to hurt her head. Eyes that seemed to fade from blue to pink lifted upwards, just in time to catch sight of the much older looking man. Maybe he would be able to help.]

"Mister! Mister!"

[The child ran over smile quickly forming past her confusion as she watched him.]

"Do you know any fun places!?"

[You could usually trust grown-ups to know things. Unless it was papa. Then he’d lie to your face, or just be mean and not answer, or even just flick her forehead for no good reason.]

[inthemiddleofidgits]

Big was one word. Stupid was another. There were many words Bobby could use to describe this shithole. For one, he couldn't seem to find anywhere to research in this place. Yeah, not even the library was safe from the confrontations and killings of half-wit children. Mostly he spent time in his dorm, researching about the damn thing while Sam and Dean went to god knows where. Apparently killing little kids was one thing those two idiots were doing. Obviously it didn't pan out too well for them. You know, cause people give a whole lot of shits about children. Not that Bobby hated kids, well...most of them.

Now today was just like anyother day here or at home. Hot as hell and lots of research. Though usually, if he were home, he would be research his third or fourth monster by now. Unfortunately for him, there was about zero information on psycho killer bears. At first he had assumed it was some sort of padfoot. That was until he remembered the damn thing made more of a squeak when it walked than the sound of dragging chains. Honestly, he was at a loss for this one. Nothing he found was powerful enough or it plain didn't fit the thing. Some of thme were too big, some where too small. It was like this little guy was a one of a kind.

Which made him think even further. Would if, just would if this was a new monster? So, he planned on taking his afternoon to the library to scrounge up anything on the damn bear. After that he'd visit the school. Yes, there were ghosts in there, but he knew what to do. It wasn't like that was his job or anything.

Only problem was; he wasn't exactly planning on getting stopped by a kid. And a kid asking for advice on "fun". Shit idea kid. Might as well help her though. She looked pretty bored.

"Here? Nah, the best you can find is...cards if yer lucky."

[inthelightofsalvation-blog]

you mcfucked up, sam! || revival

     He didn’t feel much. No rage, no sorrow, no passion. It wasn’t as if this was typical, no, he’d felt numerous overwhelming emotions during kills in the past. This was different. It was simply something that needed to be done, the carrying out of a fairly mundane task for a Winchester. And yet, he knew no matter how much he fought and cut and beat, the child would return to life shortly. Perhaps he simply wanted to get a message across. To the fading light in the monster’s eyes, to the others he knew were lurking on the island as well. Sam Winchester was a force to be reckoned with. He’d slay every supernatural creature on that island, even if it killed him.

     But the sickening 'crack!' that rang out as rotting wood stuck bone brought him back to his senses. Sam was suddenly aware of the dull thump as the child’s body finally went limp and fell to the floor. It wasn’t the blade that had killed him. It wasn’t right, not in the slightest. If the boy wasn’t a djinn, what was he? Had the younger Winchester now just killed an innocent boy, simply because he had vague suspicions the boy was a monster? What would he tell Dean? He was wrong, earlier. His heart hadn’t been void of emotion. His actions had all been driven by pure anger and hatred and fear and now he had a boy’s blood on his hands.

     Sam awoke with a sharp gasp as he sat up in his bed. No, not his bed, an infirmary bed. Memories of the murder and his execution all came flooding back to him in a wave that made his vision swirl and his stomach lurch. He could still feel Aladdin’s skull weaken and crack beneath his strength, the feeling of ending a life still tingling in his hands. It was disgusting. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms, letting out a heavy sigh. After years of hunting, had he really made such a terrible miscalculation? Did he really kill an innocent kid…?

     Sam’s own clothes were nowhere in sight. While they weren’t exactly the most pressing issue on his mind, he wasn’t enjoying the thin white cotton t-shirt and pants the infirmary had supplied. They were better than some backless hospital gown, he supposed, but he much preferred his own clothes. Which was actually what motivated him to leave the infirmary in the first place. His muscles strained and protested as he stood and made his way to the door, doing his best not to disturb his bandages.

     The daytime sun was much brighter than the infirmary’s windows initially let on. During his first few steps out the door, Sam shielded his eyes with one hand, squinting until his eyes adjusted. As they did, he noticed someone standing not far from the door, but with his eyes still squeezed nearly-shut he couldn’t quite make out just who it was. However, he opted to speak first, before he even recognized them. Chances are if they were hanging around the infirmary, they likely knew him, if they weren’t waiting there specifically to speak with him. “How long was I out?” His words were hoarse at first. Ah, right. He hadn’t exactly spoken in a while, and his last words were likely just screams Sam cleared his throat, speaking again. “I mean, how long’s it been since… Sunday, right? That was the last trial?”

[inthemiddleofidgits]

Honestly, when he had heard about the news he couldn't believe it. Sam murdering an innocent kid? Bobby had never heard of such a thing. The kid was one of the kindest souls he had ever had the blessing to meet. So, yeah, when Bobby found out he was a bit shocked. Not only shocked, but upset and very disappointed. This was the last thing he had expected from his son. Hell, he didn't even expect it at all. Yes,he expected both Sam and Dean to get some of the monsters, but some little kid? Not in a million years. That wasn't like them.

So why did he do it?

Bobby would have to save that for later. For now, he needed to be there for Sam. He needed to set the boy straight and get him on track. This whole killing thing wouldn't help anyone get off the damn island. Bobby hoped it was just an honest to god mistake. Some mistake it would be, but better than it being and honest to god murder. Cause if that was the case, well, Sam would be in for a real good talk. Either way he was gonna get a lecture.

The kid killed someone, what else was he supposed to do? Give him a loving hug, tell him it wasn't his fault he decided to smack some innocent child in the head? Hell no. Bobby knew Dean would do some stupid shit like that, but he sure as hell wouldn't. He was going to make sure Sam didn't slip up like this again. Not unless he was going after a monster. Well, it wouldn't even matter. The damn things would come back anyways. As long as none of them were killing it was just fine for Bobby.

He was waiting outside the infirmary for Sam to wake up when he saw just that person stubble out his room. Jesus Christ, he looked awful. 

"A few days or so. It's'a Tuesday if ya wanna know. Here, come sit down sunshine before ya fall on yer ass."

[godlywarrior-deactivated2013100]

Come Tell ME what you think of how I RP MY muse, I can only publish.

I’m curious to know! Do you like how I RP as them? Do you hate it? How can I improve? SEND ME AN ASK; LET ME KNOW!

[intheshadowofdamnation]

"…take it you’re up to speed on all this gnome crap." Dean says, gently cocking his head in the direction of the television. "C’mon… gotta admit… some of it looks pretty badass on the big screen. You see some of those shots they got of me in the beginning? Like something out of a Hollywood action movie." The small, tired smile dies as his thoughts stray from those opening shots, before he slipped up and everything went to Hell, to his last moments in the montage— a shriveling, screaming corpse— and his brow furrows slightly, the corners of his lips twitching downward for a split second.

Time for a topic change, and fast. Dean shifts beneath a thin bedsheet, asking, “…so how’re you taking to scenic, sunny murder island?” He forces a chuckle. “Bet you can hardly tell the difference b’tween here ‘n South Dakota.”

[inthemiddleofidgits]

"Yup, gossip n' all. It wasn' like you an' all the other kids weren't on TV or anythin'. An' I ain't gonna admit anything. You looked like an idiot. At least the guys in the movies actually look half-decent while gettin' their asses kicked." It was true, he had to watch it all and all of these kids were bloodthirsty animals.  It had gotten to the point where Bobby wasn't sure which ones were safe and which weren't. Well, he knew for sure the little crown boy wasn't safe.

"Like a happy camper. Well, for one, there's police in South Dakota. Other than that, there ain't a single difference." He paused for a moment. "How're you holdin' up?"

[intheshadowofdamnation]

A familiar voice yanks him from his stupor within an instant. Dean’s gaze flicks from the screen to a man he couldn’t be happier to see at his side. He’s already encountered so many familiar enemies on this island, and it’s so good to see a friendly face.

No, it’s more than mere friendliness.

He is among family.

"Ah, I’ll survive." Dean says, lips cracking into something close to a genuine smile weighed down by unimaginable fatigue and pain. "This’s nothing… been through Hell of a lot worse before." The elder Winchester pauses, readjusting his head gently upon the pillow. "…s’good to see you again, Bobby."

[inthemiddleofidgits]

The kid looked awful. Sure, Bobby knew what kinds of things Dean had been through. He'd been to Hell and back. Literally. There wasn't anything these boys couldn't do. Bobby knew that. Yet he stilled worried about both of them. They were idiots, Dean especially, that threw themselves at danger like they had a million lives to toss out the window. So, it was pretty hard not to worry about them. Luckily Dean was still alive...somehow.

"I don't doubt it. But, it was yer fault ya got the damn shit beaten outta ya. You shouldn'a charged at the guy ya idgit."

He placed a gentle hand on Dean's shoulder. "S'good to see ya too son."

[intheshadowofdamnation]

Wow. Look at all these kids flocking to the infirmary. Better watch out for the man still confined to his cot (the burns on his chest would be paining like a bitch for a long, long time), whose eyes are still locked on a television screen mounted to the wall. The Gnome game recap has since finished, but he can still see himself burning alive while the bear talks over his screaming like some kind of insane sports announcer.

It’s not like he hasn’t seen himself die before, but somehow, it’s a little less tolerable when the version of himself dying isn’t a shapeshifter, and he’s still carrying the wounds of his own demise.

[inthemiddleofidgits]

That's right, there was a gnome game going on when he got here. And like an idiot, Dean went and signed up. Luckily it was just Dean. Visiting one person in the infirmary was enough let alone his son. He was worried sick about him during the whole thing and watching him burning on screen was too much for him to watch. It just had to go on again. Of course he didn't watch the damn thing. Seeing it happen once was enough. He didn't need it twice.

Walking silently over to Dean's bed he stood near him. The kid barely noticed that he was there. It's hard watching something like that. Hopefully just the fact that Bobby was even here would be enough of a distraction. For now, at least.

"Ya look like hell."

[inthemiddleofidgits]

Enter: Angry Old Guy | | OPEN

It had been several months since he had seen Dean. The boy just left without explaining too much on where he was going or why. All he said was that he had found a case and had to leave. Not too long after that, that angel friend of theirs didn't answer Sam. Of course, that worried Sam so, off he went too. Now, Bobby was alone.

He wasn't alone for too long however. Sam should have been back with Dean much faster than it was taking. It worried Bobby and he couldn't stand the thought of those two boys missing in action without him by their side. So, he got a ticket and off he went to Academy of Despair.

Honestly, he wasn't too sure how he was even able to step foot off that plane and onto the island. Nor was he too sure how Sam and Dean were able to as well. The place was for teens not middle aged men and old grumps. Thankfully they were allowed inside. If not then these kids were damned for all he cared. 

Now, it was a school of mutual killing right? Kids had probably already gotten a few kills in and he wasn't ready to be one of the next victims. Plus, he wasn't stupid enough to let it happen. People were vicious and age didn't matter. If this bear could get to them, they would kill. Simple as that. Of course it wasn't that simple for Sam and Dean he expected. 

Not only that, but how the hell would a bear be in charge of all this? It obviously wasn't just some ordinary bear, probably some sort of supernatural being. Normally Bobby would say the damn thing was a trickster right off the bat, but this thing was too powerful to be one. It looked like he would be spending a lot of time in the library figuring out how to kill the thing. Whatever it was anyways. 

What he needed to so right now was find a weapon. The school was mutual killing and that meant plenty of people would be after him. An old guy waltzing into the school? Sounded like a perfect target to him. So, there was the plan. Find a weapon then find the boys and finally get the kids out of this god forsaken place.

All his normal weapons were taken. This wasn't a shocker or anything, but he did need something to defend himself with. Surely there had to be some weapons somewhere. His first guess was the kitchen and if not there then the bathroom mirror was good enough for him. To hell with that broken mirror myth, this place was bad luck as is.

Bobby entered the kitchen and began to shuffle through the drawers looking for any weapons available. He noticed several knives and other things were taken. That must have been Sam and Dean. He grabbed as many knives as he could and turned to leave. Only probably was someone was standing right at the door, staring at him.

There was no shock or terror in Bobby's face. If anything, there was annoyance. He looked them straight in the eyes and the two of them stood in silence. There was no fear in this grandpa.

"What? You think I'm jus' gonna let em' come n' stab me? I ain't that stupid and I ain't plannin' on dyin' anytime soon."

[inthemiddleofidgits]

♫ (those nerdy winchesters)

a song that reminds me of one of my muse’s relationships 

Wow, fucking nerds those Winchesters. Fun fact: it’s the first song on my autoplay I suck.

Home by Phillip Phillips (Amazing name I know)

[inthemiddleofidgits]

❦

a relationship or someone that my muse doesn’t want to lose.

His wife. Oh yeah! She’s fucking dead. 

Honestly, there is barely anyone left for Bobby to lose. He’s lost pretty much everyone near and dear to him. The only people he has left are Sam and Dean. He’s not planning on losing those two anytime soon. Hell, he won’t let them die anytime before himself.

[goredemo-blog]

SEND ME ONE OF THE FOLLOWING FOR AN ANSWER.

♪ a song that reminds me / fits my muse. ♩ a song that reminds me of your muse. ♫ a song that reminds me of one of my muse’s relationships ( state whom ). ♬ a song that reminds me of an event in my muse’s life, past, present or future. ♭ a song that my muse would listen to. ♯ my muse’s favourite song. ♮ a song, album or artist that i listen to while writing for my muse.

[inthemiddleofidgits]

❥ :+)

a past relationship my muse had.

Bobby has had many past relationships. Of course there is his wife. The love of his life that he had to kill because she got possessed by a demon. Then there is Jo and Ellen. Those two were family to him and he had to deal with them burning to death. Lastly, there is Rufus, Bobby’s best friend. Sure, he’s a little bitch to Rufus, but Rufus was definitely one of the few people Bobby could open up to and well, now he’s dead too. Welcome to the life of Bobby Singer.

[goredemo-blog]

SEND ME ONE OF THE FOLLOWING FOR AN ANSWER. ( platonic or romantic. )

♥ a relationship my muse cherishes. ❥ a past relationship my muse had. ❣ a relationship or someone that my muse misses. ❦ a relationship or someone that my muse doesn’t want to lose. ❧ an ideal relationship or person in the muse’s eyes.

[inthemiddleofidgits]

If I had a garden, I'd put your two lips and my two lips together.

"Sorry, but I ain’t interested in gals like you."

[winchesteir-deactivated20210119]

bobby + idjit

[spngifsets]

[euclase]

Balls, drawn in PS.