#attackofthekillermexisaurusrex

[metamorphosis2011]

attackofthekillermexisaurusrex reblogged your link:Both are Looking for More, But Searching for Each...

I agree with these tags, metamorphosis2011. I FINALLY NEED THEM TO BE ON THE SAME PAGE AND OF COURSE FOR SAM TO MENTION...

I'd give my right arm for Sam to mention destiel, plus point if it would be to Cas ;) and if they at least could get to being in the same book for a start... I don't know how much more of this I can take!

[almaasi]

I don't mean to rain on your parade but they asked about the blood type thing at the recent con and it was said that it was a continuity error :/ easy thing to miss tho

(about this)

I'm not at all surprised. but regardless of the truth, I still kinda like that theory...

[snowangelaziraphale]

Eep, thank you @attackofthekillermexisaurusrex 😄 Sorry I have to reply this way, but tumblr mobile won’t let me reblog long responses for whatever reason…

I’m just so on board with this theory, you have no idea. It would be so interesting to see how Sam and Dean handled it, and Dean FAMILY-IS-EVERYTHING Winchester having to come to terms with the fact that he wasn’t biologically related to his father. And looking for his blood father, possibly?

If I can put forward a name for that- I know it’s a bit soap opera, but I’m looking at Bill Harvelle. The experienced hunter who met a nasty end because John Winchester didn’t have his back. John, who for all his faults was a kickass hunter who worked with Sam, Dean and others throughout the years without letting anyone come to serious harm on his watch. John, who one could easily picture losing his shit and killing a man out of anger, or sitting back and letting a monster do the work for him. And Jo, that’s another point- she was stunning, snarky, funny, an excellent hunter, someone who Dean liked and respected. She also carried a torch for him the size if a wendigo, and he knew it. So why’d he never sleep with her? Possibly out of respect, but I always saw it as him feeling nothing for her beyond fraternal-sororal affection. She was the original little sister Dean never knew he wanted. I think he knew, guessed or sensed something which told him to stay away from her. Her instant attraction to him could have even that thing, Genetic Sexual Attraction. Wikipedia calls it “sexual attraction between close relatives, such as siblings or half-siblings, a parent and offspring, or first and second cousins, who first meet as adults.” It’s possible she was just drawn to him. Also, it’s pretty meaningless but just for fun I did some googling. If Dean Winchester was really Dean Harvelle, his name means something pretty interesting…”Dean” simply means “valley”, but it comes from a Middle English word “denu”. Another possible translation is not valley, but a battlefield, or a place or obstacle inhospitable or impassible to travellers. Harvelle is not a real surname as far as I can tell, but a feminine version of Harvel, “battle worthy.” Therefore, Dean Harvelle would literally be worthy of a battle which took place in an area sunken below the ground which was inhospitable or impassable to human travellers. Kinda cool, right?

[rayneyweather]

You can tell a lot about a person from the type of music they listen to. Hit the shuffle on your iPod, phone, iTunes or however you listen to music and then write down the first 10 songs that come up. Tag 10 people you want to do it too! One rule: no skipping.

I was tagged by: follesegaskarth

1) Shuffle - bombay Bicycle Club

2) Coldplay - Paradise (Dubstep remix)

3) The Bird And The Bee - What's In The Middle 

4) The Fray - Over My Head (Lyrics)

5) Sharon Van Etten - Serpents lyrics

6) "Where No One Goes" (How To Train Your Dragon 2) [Official Lyric Video]

7) Taylor Swift - Shake It Off

8) One Republic - Stop and Stare  

9) The Lumineers - Ho Hey Lyrics

10) The Music Or The Misery -Fall Out Boy [With Lyrics]

I tag:

stonedarchangels

domimiso

attackofthekillermexisaurusrex

lemon-headed-optimism

wayward-saltgunner

babyinthetrenchcoat

sassyasfuck

crazy-silly-teen

a-drum-corps-baritone

christinathewitch

[littlegrayfishes]

Rule 1: Post the rules. Rule 2: Answer the questions given by the tagger, then make 11 new ones. Rule 3: Tag 11 new people. Rule 4: Tell people you tagged ‘em.

1. Favorite comic book character? never read any comic books but I always liked Poison Ivy 2. Favorite book? The Physicists from Friedrich Dürrenmatt 3. Favorite Star Trek series? I never watched Star Trek... 4. Favorite CD? Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix - Phoenix 5. Favorite movie genre to watch? I really love watching horror films even though I'm scared afterwards :) 6. If you could be a shifter, what kind of animal would you be? some kind of fish, I just love being in the water 7. If you could trade spots with character who would it be? most of the characters in the shows I watch are somewhat miserable so I'd rather not change spots and keep my boring life instead 8. What Hogwarts house do you think you’d be sorted into? probably Hufflepuff 9. Your OTP of OTPs? Nagron! no, Destiel! no, Mulder and Scully! Nagron!! I really can't decide... 10. Favorite video game? the Sims 11. If you could be in any TV world what would it be? that's a tough one... really can't think of any

My questions: 1. Favourite ice cream flavour? 2. Favourite toy when you were little? 3. How do you check what time it is, phone or watch? 4. If you could meet future you, would you? 5. Favourite type of clothing? 6. If you would win a million what would you do first? 7. Can you roll your tongue? 8. Coffee or tea? 9. What's under your bed? 10. Favourite band/singer you can't stand anymore? 11. Dinosaurs or robots?

[a-fandomfangirl]

hit shuffle on your itunes/ipod/music player/etc.

write the first 20 songs

tag 10 more people

I was tagged by eternalwinchester so I'm gonna do this!

String Theory - Les Friction

Siren's Call - Epic Score

Fury - Epic Score

My Last Breath - Evanescence

Put Ur Hands Up (Davis Harwell Remix) - Family Force 5

Mirror Haus - Lindsey Stirling

Blizzard - Two Steps From Hell

Forgiveness (feat. Lecrae) - tobyMac

Nicotine - Panic! At The Disco

Never Surrender - Skillet

Free - MercyMe

Lucy - Skillet

Dangerous Rescue - Epic Score

Chainsaw (feat. Tedashii) - Family Force 5

The Forest River (Extended Version) - Howard Shore

I See Fire - Ed Sheeran

Jacknife - Solar Fields

Arena - Daft Punk

Dust In The Wind - Kansas

Paycheck - Family Force 5

Some of my favorites are on here! ^.^

Now I tag...

time-locked-timelord  bexie393 attackofthekillermexisaurusrex dontdrinkwhileimtalking teeheehidee itsoundswrong silversightslife sillyclevergirl myotpisgay officialbeard-of-zeus

[awkward-fallen-angel]

attackofthekillermexisaurusrex reblogged your post:I Just Sort of Want to Talk About This Sneak Peak for 9x22 for a Moment.

Thank you for the awesome tag, awkward-fallen-angel. :) OMG I LOVE HOW PEOPLE KEEP PUTTING WHAT I THINK INTO WELL...

you are very welcome o: Thank you for saying thank you <3

[fireintheimpala]

Grace

Inspired by (x)

[A03]

~

Dean had never realized that prayers were not composed of words. He feels so many prayers now—so many whirls of luminous colors and wavering notes, barely sustained by the thin air of the earth. They fall through him from every direction like cosmic rays, millions of them piercing the world without disturbing a single atom. They fill him regardless, screw the atoms. Love, it turns out, is greater than the sum of its parts. Should have guessed, Dean thinks wryly. Only one prayer bears the weight of his name, because only one man knows to pray to Dean. It falls on him from above like soothing raindrops, slipping down his heated skin. I can taste him, he marvels. Castiel’s prayer is bitter and sweet, a heartbroken vortex of blue and fuchsia, but so bright even in its despair. Dean wonders if Cas had seen this light in Dean’s prayers as well. Explains a lot. He feels a smile lift the corners of his lips and feels liquid trickle down from his eyes. His eyes are burning, but he can still see. He can see everything. He sees through the hill in front of him, through its hidden door, through its tunnel of darkness, and through the realm of Heaven itself. I have enough time, he knows. He can tell Castiel sure ain’t aiming for light, but Castiel’s fury doesn’t matter. His heart betrays him. Too much heart was always Castiel’s problem. Dean thinks he might be laughing, but he’s no longer certain which sensations are coming from within or without. Perhaps the world is laughing. Castiel’s prayer guides Dean and propels him on, even as he can hear Castiel’s words beseeching precisely the opposite.

Castiel hears Dean’s return to the bunker although it’s quiet. Dean heads straight for his room and closes its door gently so as not wake anyone, but Castiel’s ears catch it regardless. All sounds are loud at 3 AM in a sleeping bunker, though to be fair Castiel has been standing watch, waiting for these sounds. Castiel sighs in frustration and begins to pack away the boxes of relics he has been searching through. The foreign grace inside him churns unsettlingly as he lifts a particularly heavy box and works to wedge it back into its slot. Theo’s grace is both larger and smaller than him and though he wills himself not to mind it, the effects are becoming undeniable. It doesn’t fit in the right places; parts of himself are slowly ripping under the pressure of unaligned pressures while others places inside him have been left painfully empty. Or were they empty before? Too many questions have been accumulating since his time as a human. Castiel wants to address this question in particular, because he knows it’s important, but It has been difficult to digest the brief gap between his time as a human his time now. There has been no time to assess, so much to assess, and so little ground to stand on. Perhaps this is to blame for his reticence now. Words arise unbidden in his head, as they have been ever since Metatron shared his knowledge. There's a hole in my soul that's been killing me forever. It's a place where a garden never grows. Apparently Metatron had digested much of the catalogue of Western music as well as literature. He is fairly certain he remembers Dean categorizing ‘Aerosmith’ as ‘completely unacceptable’ but these words are beckoned by Dean’s arrival nonetheless. Dean hasn’t spoken to him since Castiel arrived at the bunker. In fact, Castiel hasn’t seem him speak to anyone. Dean merely strides forcefully from the door of his room to the door of the bunker, leaves for hours at a time, and returns and strides forcefully back into his room, closing the door behind him. Castiel doesn’t plan to let this continue much longer, but above all his emotions right now he senses the need for caution. He knows of the Mark of Cain, though not as much as he’d like. The precise details of its origin are still unclear to him, but he can see the effects seeping through Dean. Even through the fog Theo’s grace induces, he can see the Mark’s threads cutting their way through Dean’s soul. He sees fissures widening, edges sizzling—and unlike the others in the bunker who are in fear of Dean, Castiel feels fear for him. What Castiel sees is cracked glass, about to shatter. ~ He’s not sure what reaches him this evening as he walks by Dean’s door on the way to his own bedroom. For just a moment Castiel feels, almost wishfully, that he has sensed an errant prayer slipping out from the room, but perhaps he is imagining it. As he passes Dean’s room, however, he knows that tonight is different. Castiel stops hesitantly by the door and listens, then knocks gently. “Dean? Dean, may I come in?” he asks quietly. He can hear Dean’s breath catch, but Dean says nothing. Castiel takes this as acceptance enough and pushes the door open, letting himself in as quietly as Dean had entered. He stands for a minute near the threshold, running his eyes over the room. Dean’s room is sparse and clean, except for a ring of debris around Dean. Whiskey bottle, glass, laptop, knife, blood drops, and in the center of it all Dean, sitting on the floor slouched against his bed. Dean’s lip is split and the drops of blood around him are clearly not his own. He doesn’t visibly react to Castiel’s entrance—he merely takes a generous sip from his glass, ignoring Castiel in favor of a spot on the floor in front of him. Castiel foregoes questions and walks across the room slowly saying nothing. He settles himself down to sit beside Dean. Again he isn’t sure how he knows—perhaps the new stories in his head have had an impact—but he knows it isn’t his concern that Dean needs right now. Dean reaches across him for the whiskey bottle and he hands it to him gently, then takes a small swig for himself. Dean grunts at that and swishes his whiskey around weakly. His breathing is uneven and his eyes are filled with tears he disturbingly doesn’t seem concerned with hiding. Castiel takes this all in, slowly sipping again at the whiskey bottle, then finally breaks the silence. “I’ve missed you.” Dean lifts his head up towards the ceiling and barks out a harsh noise which falls between laugh and sob. “I’m glad you weren't here,” he says. He adds, “You don’t need to be here, Cas.” Castiel pauses. “I want to be here, Dean.” “Trust me man, you do not want to be here.” “If you knew—” “—I know enough.” Castiel interrupts. “Dean…” Castiel sighs. “I know you.” Dean snorts and rises abruptly to his feet, surprisingly steady. He heads straight for the second bottle on his nightstand. Castiel rises after him and picks up his glass from the floor. “Here,” he says, slipping the glass into Dean’s hands. “What?” Dean asks angrily. “Not gonna try to give me a big ol’ lecture?” “Would it do any good?” Dean grunts again at that and refills his glass to the brim. He offers the bottle back to Castiel. It’s Castiel’s turn to grunt as he takes the bottle firmly in hand. He raises an eyebrow suggestively then takes a swig worthy of an angel before returning the bottle to the bed stand. A ghost of wry amusement makes its way briefly to Dean’s lips, and for the first time this night their eyes meet. Talk to me, Castiel implores silently. Dean’s shoulders slump under the warmth of Castiel's attention and he slowly exhales. “What if I did something,” he starts, then swallows. “What if I did something for the wrong reasons, Cas?” he asks, his voice cracking. Castiel holds back the fountain of words that pour into his head at this, so few of them his own. He lets his gaze wander over Dean—absorbing his bloodshot eyes, his shaking hands, his unshaven features. “Dean…” Castiel trails off and reaches his hand out cautiously instead, resting it on Dean’s jaw. Dean quakes under the touch, and Castiel hears more words—Don’t spook a wild animal. But Castiel feels a rightness here and, perhaps rebelling from the unwanted advice, he pulls Dean’s head down to his chest forcefully and wraps him in his arms. Dean is taken by surprise and for a second he stills and leans in. Maybe… But before Castiel's hopes can coalesce, the moment snaps. Just as Castiel begins to feel the beginnings of calm, Dean tenses abruptly in his arms, then shoves him away. Castiel expects him to flee then, but Dean remains, frozen in front of him, and so Castiel tries again. “Dean,” he says determinedly, “Talk to me.” “There’s nothing to say, Cas. I’m doing what I have to do, you know that.” “You don’t have to do it alone.” “Yes.” Dean slams down his glass. “I fucking do, Cas! I can’t work with anyone right now, not when I’m like this.” Dean’s eyes shift to the mark on his arm. “It’s for their own good.” “You’re still you,” Castiel exclaims roughly. “Dean, the Mark of Cain doesn’t change who you are. Not exactly. It’s not that simple. The Mark of Cain is just…power.” “Power? How can this be power?” Dean gestures frantically at the room at large—at the blood drops and the knife on the floor, at the whiskey bottle on the bed stand. “How…?” “It’s raw power. “It doesn’t have,” Castiel searches for the right concept, “viscosity. The power in the mark goes where it can find an opening. It seeps where you let it in.” He touches Dean’s arm lightly before pulling back. “It falls into the cracks.” Castiel fumbles against new words then puts forward. “You are not trained in the ways of the force, Dean.” Dean leaps on this reference with inscrutable anger and replies loudly, “Well then I’m fucking Darth Vader, Cas, can’t you see that?” “Darth Vader was still himself,” Castiel shouts back. His voice lowers. “His anger was his own. And he overcame it.” Dean explodes in fury at this. His reaches for the nearest object and flings it angrily towards Cas. He flings the whiskey bottle first, then the lamp, then starts to empty the shelves above his bed. “Get out of here, Cas! Leave. You don’t know what I could fucking do to you.” Castiel evades the objects easily, but desperation and fear strike him instead. Fear for Dean, raging in front of him like a beast. Fear that he has tried to late. Desperation as he fails again to make Dean see. Fueled by a growing fatalism and urgency, Castiel doesn't know what he's doing until he's already started. "Here," he says and leans down and picks up the blade off the floor. “Hurt me.” Dean snarls. “Cas, just leave.” Castiel shoves the blade into Dean’s hand. “If you think you're a danger to me, if you think you’ll kill me, then do it now.” Dean shakes harder, his eyes bouncing over Castiel's face. “Don’t give this to me.” “Go ahead,” Castiel continues and guides Dean’s hand and the blade to his throat. “No, Cas, I…” “You can't do this, Dean, don't you see? It's not too late. And it will never be too late. You’re still you.” “Who am I then?” Dean chokes out. “You’re Dean Winchester. You’re the righteous man. I raised you from hell, I held your soul in my hands.” Castiel listens at last to the words bubbling up inside him. “You’re the man I love.” “Love?” Dean sounds hysterical. He looks like Cas has slapped him. “I won’t leave you, Dean.” Dean drops the blade and it clatters on the ground. “I can’t…” is all he says. And finally Dean flees. Castiel watches him run through the doorway, more words coming unrequested. There's a hole in my soul, I should have known better. 'Cause your love's like a thorn without a rose.