Dean Winchester

hunter ; brother ;; angel caretaker;; the unrighteous man -- I can carry the weight of the world and not falter ; I can carry y o u Indie post season 8 dean

[thefallenboykingarchive-blog]

Current Location

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During this temporary hiatus across /all/ of my accounts I will be over here. It’s a personal blog - but hey if you guys wanna talk; I’ll be over here.

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I'm Just A Soul || Punk!Au

Dean Winchester; a troubled boy; a lost youth. That’s how the world saw him - yet he was honed from a different stock. He was strong, and confident - family was everything to him. Even if his dad was an asshole, even if his baby brother was the nerd of the school. It didn’t matter the number of piercings  tattoos - or fights he got into. Every day he walked his younger brother to school - ruffled his hair and told him to be good. He was the proverbial loner, the boy that had a chip on his shoulder - yet he wasn’t exactly a boy anymore. His twentith birtday had come and gone, every day he made his way to the rinky dink mechanic shop his dad had owned for years. Since his mother had died - his dad had gone to drinking, and Sam? Had been left in the elder son’s care. And Dean was proud of him - the things he could do. How smart he was; and then he’d had this sudden growth spurt and shot up way past him - still lanky, still scrawny - but he was filling out. That day he’d driven his brother to school - told him he ‘d be by just after school since he had to pick up a few things. Yet today wouldn’t be just any day - today as he leaned over into a car that was little more than a heep - someone would pull in. Raising up he gave a nod and a grin;  he was the only one there, “You need something?” The tone was curt - yet not unkind. As he straightened to his full height he wiped his hand on the dark torn fabric of his jeans. “Winchester garage - by the way, guess you knew that from the sign.”

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A faint dinging resounded as Castiel Novak stood up, one hand resting on the open door of his Hyundai. Sweat shines in a subtle sheen along his hairline and dampens the white dress shirt he was wearing, making it stick to his back and shoulders.  For a moment, those blue eyes survey the scene, searching for any sign of personnel, when they fall upon a young man bent over and studiously working on what looked to be a lost cause of a vehicle. His own seemed, in his own eyes, to be in a similar predicament as of late: four trips to a garage in the last six months.  Although he didn’t mean to, he couldn’t but stare as the mechanic greeted him, gaze roaming over the myriad of tattoos and piercings in his skin. It was a very different image than what he was used to dealing with: professionals in designer suits, secretaries with high heels and manicured nails. All of them polished to a perfect kind of gleam.  The keys rattle as he finally pulled them from the ignition and pocketed them, nudging the door to a close.  “Uh, yes,” he answered. ”It’s—-the air conditioning.” A hand goes to hair to brush it back from his forehead, absently trying to tame the wind whipped locks of hair before dropping again to his side. “Went out Wednesday morning. I didn’t have time to bring it in any sooner.” 

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Oh -- joy. Bully for the little yuppie; yet biting back the harsh words that rose like bile in his throat he gave a quick nod. "Alright - just pull her in the bay over there and I'll give her a look." Straightening completely he wiped his hands on the tattered jeans he wore -- his only clothing i nfact. The shirt had been long abandoned and left; it was hot. And there was little to no air circulation around here. "Are you planning on staying? If it's the AC I can probably fix it within an hour." Professional Dean - don't laugh in the kids face. That would be just ;; rude. Eyes stayed on the youth - dark hair, up tight personality ; but -- his eyes had more story to tell than his words did. "I'm Dean by the way; this is my dad's shop but he's out right now so I'm in charge." Why he felt it necessary to add the last part he wasn't -- really sure. But it was true - his dad was somewhere laid up working on a hangover; Sammy was at school - and his dad's partner was out on a hunting trip. Dean? Rules the roost. "Depending on if I need any parts it'll probably only run you about 50 to 100 bucks." They were reasonably priced - it was the small garages only real salvation.. That and the Winchester's did know cars.

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ilaughedicriedipukedinmymouth:

A pair of darkly colored eyebrows raised at such a comment. Perhaps now wasn’t the best time for her sardonic mockery — the dude sounded pretty torn up about Castiel’s absence, and while Meg just loved acting saucy around the Winchesters, she decided it would be best to put that aside for the time being.

       ”Good to see you too, Dean-o.”

The demon fell silent for a moment, a small grin still present on her face. Perhaps what the Winchester was asking for would be help? Now that could be interesting; her curiosity certainly elevated at the thought of this. If she’d missed such a major detail about the other angels, perhaps she could learn more through this.

        “If help finding hotwings is what you’re asking for, count me in.”

They'd been through a lot ; Dean and Cas - bond or no bond the guy was family. And Dean had precious little family as it was ;; he could see Meg forcibly biting back comments. Maybe she wasn't so bad afterall. "I'd -- appreciate it. He's gonna be .. Torn up about this. Gonna be blaming himself. I just can't figure out where the dude would go when he thinks he deserves punishment." Purgatory -- wasn't possible; so where on God''s green earth would he go?

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okay I'm going to do some stuff away from the computer. Like try and eat. If you want a starter just let me know.

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Fricken witches; it just ate at him not being able to find this out on his own. Instead Garth and Mr Fizzles had sent him on a goose chase after some chick. Some god forsaken woman - would have all the answers. Well that didn't sound cryptic or anything ; not at all. 

Truth be told - this entire hunt had him on edge. Witches were by far his least favorite; everything had to be so damn exact. The temperature of your chicken feet, the way you laid out the little bone bits. The fact that you even fricken needed human bones in this ordeal ; it left a bad taste in his mouth and his mood refused to be sunny at all. 

As he pulled up to a non-descript place; with a name he couldn't pronounce he parked Baby, stepping out. The sourness of his demeanor obvious; so he stood there. Waiting for some damned woman - Garth had of course not told him what she looked so. Bully for him.

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#you followed me

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#why yes yes i did follow you

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“I’ve got nothin’, unless the treetopper’s still into flowery meadows and dog races.”

Meg gave a light shrug of her shoulders, proceeding with a playful remark of sarcasm, “I don’t know — he was your best friend forever first. Maybe you aught to try giving him a call.”

For a moment, the demon hesitated to respond as she processed Dean’s statement of… What was that? Fell?

“Wait, wait — hold on a sec,” she lifted an index finger in the air, then repeating the hunter’s previous statement, “You said ‘they fell’. Who’s they?”

She got the sneaking suspicion she’d missed a few details of the latest happenings.

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Oh great this was gonna be jolly good fun to explain; "The angels Meg, every single one of them. Fallen. Sammy and I been working on piecing them back together in a way. Can't find Cas though."

Truth be told - Dean was worried; "It doesn't frigging matter whose friend he was first; alright? Listen; Sammy told me everything okay. Unicorns and rainbows I get it. I just wanna make sure my friend's alright - I don't give a damn about anything else.                                   But it is good to see you're alright --"

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#you followed me

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………

I didn’t need to know that—

Well I haven’t had any coffee for awhile.

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Well it was definitely something I coulda lived without knowing but - yeah you also sprawl. And mumble.                       Very very uneasy sleeper.

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Welcome to the crew, Castiel.

WIP 2 because apparently people liked the first one??  Still unsure about what colours I should use though…

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         The name he gave pulled a laugh from her lips. Tamsin wasn’t stupid, and being a detective kind of gave her the knowledge it took to know it was a blatant fake. Even then, you’d have to be stupid to think it wasn’t. —Cobain, huh?” A smile, as she sipped her beer again. Watching as his gaze fell over her form, and when it finally rose to her lips a slender tongue would travel in a line over her lower lip. 

      With a cute wrinkle of her nose Tamsin raked her nails over the counter top to get his attention. “So, how did you hear about this place—?” Mind as well do a little detective work, even if she was a little drunk.

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"How'd I find this place? Word of mouth obviously.. How all good bars are found --" It was odd but in truth he hadn't the faintest clue how he'd found this bar. All he could rememebr was he'd been driving along after dropping Sammy off at the motel to do some research. And had ended up -- here.

It's not like it was a bad turn of events ; afterall - no matter what tonight lead to. He'd at least gotten a few good drinks and a fantastic view. "What about you - a local?""

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She let the Righteous Man take his move, stepping away from he door as he moved towards it; Anna was not completely unable to take a social queue, after all. She understood, truly, his hesitation, but she was not without her own anger and suspicions. Though it was not Dean who would bear the brunt of the angel’s fury — Castiel would be the lucky recipient of that particular hurricane.

No, Dean was allowed his reservations, and she hers (though for the sake of him allowing her to remain long enough for a conversation to take place, she would not speak them aloud. Not yet).

“Naomi? Yes. Castiel was’t exactly a special case in that respect. It’s been going on for years, they were bound to have a faulty outcome eventually. I.e, Glenn Close.” Her reply was ever-soft, controlled as always. A brow raised at his question, though she nodded, accepting the invitation. “Yeah, I still drink coffee. Sorry for the, ah, early awakening.”

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There was a slight roll of his shoulders as he showed enough trust to ; turn his back - walk to the kitchen... But not before pulling Sammy's door more securely. It was a paranoid - and fruitless but; it came with a handy excuse. "I don't want him to hear talking and wake up.. Still recovering."

The hand that graced his jaw with a rather - vigorous movement soon fell to his side as the preparation of coffee began. "Doesn't matter, was about time to wake up.. So - I'm guessing you came back for more than just an explanation? Got a case or something?" His tone was businesslike ; but this was his awkward - gruff way of extending a hand of truce.

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{outofimpala} I've been sick -- very sick pretty much since I got up this morning. This has left me sapped of energy and barely able to sit up right. So - as I sip this drink I'm puttering about but I'm afraid the longer replies are still on hold. Forgive me? </3

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Things left unsaid

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            Sam eventually feel to a deep sleep, and didn’t wake up til late afternoon. Once he woke, he sat up off the bed and sighed, rubbing his face before he glanced over to the couch noticing Dean’s body ko’ed.. most likely from booze. He slowly stood from the bed and teetered towards the bathroom. He brushed his teeth, washed off his face and cleaned up a bit, before he motioned over to the coffee pot, flicking it on for the morning brew.. the coffee here tasted like dirt, but it was better then nothing. Turning on the television, he sat back onto the bed and pulled the covers over his body with a huff. He wasn’t ready to wake up just yet.

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It had been some time around 5am when Dean had finally fell into an exhausted and fitful sleep. He'd been driving for hours - and since the whole.. Fight? He'd barely been able to close his eyes without being guilt ridden and be forced to relieve the entire scene. Something pulled him from the slumber he'd embraced so unwillingly - the sound of movement. Yet there was no reaction of violence; instead sleep crusted eyes slowly opened. Blinking - and silent - as a new born gazing on the world for the first time. And he saw him -- his baby brother. Retreating again to bed ; and so he remained silent.

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-He’d even been a little bit startled by the other.-

                                    …… -a squint then…-

                  How in the world did I fall asleep….

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You refused to drink coffee?                      [he raised the mug he'd been sipping at]    You snore -- just in case you didn't know.

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Fade Away || Demon!AU

There had been a call ; a contact - this town was loaded with the shit. Supernatural crap was coming out their wazoos - yet Dean had come for something else. Not Werewolves, not teenage lizard boys, and not for dangerously hot chicks who were majorly jail-bait. No he'd come because he'd gotten a call - sulfur. Everywhere.

Of course the hunters were swamped and they'd called in the Winchester's for a bit of backup - Sammy was still recovering; and after all what was one little teeny weeny demon. Should be a pretty simple thing right? The hunter's hadn't been sure who it was in - they hadn't managed to holy water everything. Dean's fabulous plan? 

Oh that's right he didn't have one - Sam had just for precautions sent Ruby's knife along; not that he really wanted to use it this time. For all he knew it would be one of these bright faced kids - - and explaining that would just get... messy.

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“Mmmrfh.”

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There's a little drool -- [motions to a place on his left cheek and giving the angel a nod]