Sorry I went MIA there for a bit…I’m in rough shape. Good news is though, I’m alive. My good friend @islaymonsters made sure of that.
I’m stuck in a hospital at the moment, you’re reading the words of a 100% genuine Jane Doe with “bear attack induced trauma and amnesia” I would’ve ran a theatre club in high school if given half a chance.
Friendly reminder to never hunt alone, especially when you’ve never seen the thing your up against before. We have a hard life out here, don’t make it harder for yourself by getting yourself halfway killed and praying your phone calls go through.
Now, what is a skin walker? According to the lore a skin walker is a being (or cryptid) that used to be a Shaman or medicine man that let their power and magic corrupt them inside and out until it overtook their humanity and turned them into the reason Appalachian children are terrified to whistle.
Anywho, in case any of you encounter a lovely skin walker friend here’s how you…kill them…sorry y’all the loopy drugs are making me very uncreative.
1. Some say simply silver bullets or a weapon made of silver will do the trick as it will for other kinds of shapeshifters, however this is mostly word of mouth so I’m not entirely sure how well it works as I was more interested in traditional accounts and folklore (Navajo in case any of you wish to do more research than the minimal I did for my own survival)
2. Going along with that same theme, fire. Now setting something on fire will 9 times out of 10 kill that thing. However, then it becomes a matter of getting close enough to do that which I was not about to do.
3. Make a friend in a Navajo Shaman. The Shaman can reverse the evil magic that created the skin walker in the first place. Now since I don’t have any Shaman friends this one was a little difficult for me.
4. Knowing the human name of the skin walker. Navajo legend says that if you were to speak the full human name in the skin walkers presence it will feel shame and power will be given to the human…part and they will be able to subdue their curse and hopefully kill it or help you do so.
5. White ash. For this one you gotta make some white ash from a tree and then dip your weapon of choice into it. I’ve found dipping a few bullets in it and then aiming for the head is pretty effective.
I hope you never have to encounter one of those things but in case you do I hope you learned a little something.
Now I’m going to leave you with a great piece of advice: always have a friend that will track you down after a suspiciously silent phone call, find your ass barely kicking in the middle of the woods, and drag you to the nearest hospital.
dean winchester x reader with celiac disease (and some sam)
warnings : newly established relationship, cursing, pet names (sweetheart, baby, angel) other than that just fluff!
this is my first fic so keep in mind while reading, and i’m always open to constructive criticism!
you were hunched over the toilet in the bunker and had been vomiting for the last 5 minutes. you had promptly slipped out of the dean cave mid movie to use the restroom, feeling nauseous and tired. you’d definitely been glutened, just as you were trying to figure out what could have possibly made you sick a light knock and “ y’okay sweetheart?” echoed through the bathroom. a groan was all you could muster up in response “can i come in?” of course he wanted in right now, “i guess.”
the door open slowly and dean gently walked in, sudden surprise and concern drew over his face “shit what happened?” “i got glutened- before you could say anything else you threw up again, thankfully making in the toilet. dean rushed over to you and gently crouched down to your level, and lightly moved your hair till he was holding it back with one hand. while softly placing his other hand on your back and rubbing gently “what made you sick?” he quietly asked “i don’t know, i’ve only eaten food i made, i don’t know what i did wrong” you said with both arms resting on the toilet seat and your head propped against them. “hey hey hey sweetheart look at me, don’t beat yourself up s’not your fault” you mumbled a quiet “i know”
“what can i do to help?” he asked, “you need water or a pillow?” you slightly leaned up “water would be great.” “i’ll be right back baby m’kay” and with a soft kiss to your forehead he rushed out, and just as fast as he was at your side he was gone. the bathroom felt surprisingly empty without dean, but he didn’t leave you for long. not even a couple minutes later he was back with a glass of cold water and some pain killers. handing you the glass “figured these might help” he said an extended his hand with two pills in it, “ ’s ibuprofen by the way” “thank you dean”. you quickly took the pills a drank the majority of the water noting to take it easy as to not make yourself feel worse.
minutes had passed, but you weren’t exactly sure how many, but it had been long enough for dean to sit beside you and pull you into his chest. you had long since stopped throwing up and the pain meds did wonders. now you were just left with the gross feeling of the bathroom floor and the dread of knowing you would feel worse tomorrow. “i think i’m gonna take a shower” you slightly turned in his arms so you could see him a little better, “m’kay angel anything i can do?” “could you get me a change of clothes?” “sure thing” he carefully got up and with a quick kiss to your temple went to hunt down the comfiest thing he could find. minutes later he came back with fluffy pj shorts one of his flannels (which fit very oversized on you) underwear and fluffy socks.
“ ‘s the best i could do” dean said as he came back into the bathroom, setting the clothes down onto the counter. “it’s perfect, thank you” you said, followed by a “out” “what?” dean said “you heard me out” he scoffed “what did i do?” “nothing just taking this one solo” “fine” he said, but there was no bite to it just teasing. you flushed the toilet and took a long hot shower, after you were dressed you made your way to dean’s room.
“hey” he said when he landed eyes on you in the door way. “can i come in?” “always sweetheart” he gently patted the bed next to where he sat “c’mere”. you quickly crossed the room crawling into bed, “ ‘m gonna shower now” “your leaving me?” you said with a dramatic fake pout. “you kicked me out first angel” “i guess” you mumbled and crossed your arms. “i’ll be right back angel ten minutes tops” then he was off to the bathroom.
who knows how long you’d been asleep but you woke up to a freshly showered dean crawling in bed next to you. “sorry baby didn’t mean ‘t wake you” he said softly. “it’s ok” and before you knew it you were curled up against him. “g’night sweetheart” “goodnight dean” and before you knew it you were fast asleep.
p.s. i hope you liked it please let me know what you think!
Ahh *whistle whistle* just walking through this big open room with my big box of shit posts supernatural memes aw I hope I don't drop it OH NO AWWW MANNN AWWW FUCKKKK SHIT I DROPPED IT FUCK THEY'RE EVERYWHERE WHATEVER SHALL I DO(doing this in reblogs because I'm scared Tumblr is gonna nuke my post)
During a hunt in LA, Dean Winchester stays with an old friend, and his 22 year-old daughter, Carmen.
Warning: Mature themes/language. Age gap. Sexual content. Mention of suicide.
Part Two
Part Three: Poolside
Dean could get used to sitting out by the pool. After a couple days of research, he’d even gone to the store and gotten himself a pair of actual swim trunks, which Sam noticed, giving him a funny look as he came into the room ready to go out back.
“Swim trunks? Really Dean? You’re actually gonna swim?” Sam questioned.
“Yup,” Dean said eagerly, “I’m gonna rub me down with some sunscreen and swim my little heart out.”
Sam looked at him curiously. “This have anything to do with Carmen?”
“Carmen?” Dean repeated, jumping at the question.
“Robert’s daughter, Carmen?” Sam pressed. “The one who likes to lay out by the pool…?”
“Really?” Dean lied horribly. “I hadn’t noticed. Too busy being blinded by the California sun,” he beamed.
Sam snorted. “Right. Well you do realize that Robert, the man whose house we’re staying in, might actually blind you if he thinks you’re getting too close to his daughter?”
“Come on, Sammy,” Dean slapped him on the arm. “Lighten up. Take a load off. Get some sun. You’re pasty. Like a nerdy little vampire.”
Sam frowned as Dean grabbed his towel, marching out of the room happily. Sure enough, once he went outside, there was Carmen, laying out in her spot tanning. She was gleaming gold with some sort of glittery thing. Dean gulped. He threw his towel down on a chair and made a loud sound, announcing himself as he stretched.
“Nice day, huh?”
Carmen lifted her sunglasses. “Yeah. You gonna actually engage with the pool environment like a normal person?”
“Mhm,” Dean nodded, “Got my swim trunks and everything. All I need are some floaties, and I’m good to go.”
Carmen snickered at his childlike enjoyment, gaze momentarily flicking down to the anti-possession tattoo on his chest, then seemingly to his abs, most likely by default. He definitely noticed, but elected not to say anything. It definitely wouldn’t be a good idea. He cleared his throat, trying to pass the moment off as something more appropriate as he saw her stretched out in her black string bikini. He thought his mouth would go dry.
“You know, you got a lot of tattoos,” he remarked.
He didn’t know why he said it.
“Uh-huh,” Carmen nodded, “I put ‘em there.”
Dean nodded stupidly. “Right.”
He looked around anxiously, not sure what to do with himself. “You uh… Want a drink, or something?” he offered politely.
“Sure,” she accepted, “Grab me a beer?”
“You got it!”
He’d said that a little too loudly as he disappeared into the house. Dean shook it off, embarrassed at himself. He was a forty year-old hunter who’d faced God himself. Why was this 4’11 bartender chick such an issue? He grabbed two beers and headed back outside, handing her one.
“Banquets, huh?” he asked. “Classic.”
“It’s the best beer,” Carmen insisted.
Dean nodded appreciatively. “Not a bad pick. You went for bottles, too.”
“Way better than cans,” she said firmly.
“Amen to that, sister.”
He took a long swig before resting the bottle on the table. Carmen continued her relaxation, not paying him too much attention as she laid tanning in her sunglasses, skin still glistening with that gold glitter that was like a Bat-Signal for Dean’s impure thoughts. In an attempt to keep himself well-behaved, Dean turned his focus to the pool, artificial blue water gleaming.
“CANNONBALL!”
He threw himself into the deep end, with a giant splash covering the ground as his six-foot body plummets. Carmen let out a long sigh, more refreshed than annoyed as the pool water lightly splashed her feet on the chair. Dean laughed to himself, full of glee as he swam up to the surface near the wall. He looked up at Carmen practically ignoring him, trying to get her attention like a younger sibling.
“Hey,” he grinned, “That was pretty awesome, huh?” he challenged.
“Revolutionary,” she nodded sarcastically.
“Oh yeah? Bet you can’t make a bigger splash,” Dean challenged. “Why don’t you jump in, princess?”
Carmen pulled up her sunglasses, unamused. “I’m not getting my hair wet.”
“Oh, you’re such a woman!” Dean laughed. “Come on! Water’s nice and cool! I know you’re hot,” he tempted her.
“I have work tonight,” she reminded him.
“At the dive bar?” he asked.
“Mhm.”
“Ohhhh!” he groaned, waiting for her at the wall. “You’re no fun.”
He looked around their backyard, from the electric fireplace, to the waterfall, to the endless furniture. This place really was unlike anywhere he’d even been. He would’ve killed to have had a place like this for him and Sam when they were little, even just to visit. It really was paradise.
“10 feet,” Dean looked down at the marker, “This thing is deep!”
Carmen sipped on her beer, not having much to say.
“All this stuff, and you guys are never out, or in the pool,” he observed regretfully.
“We all work,” Carmen pointed out. “Especially my dad.”
Dean frowned, feeling for the guy. “Yeah, well. You guys should really take advantage more often. If I lived in a place like this, I would never leave home. Wouldn’t even need to.”
Carmen tilted her head. “You ever wish you didn’t live on the road?”
“Every day,” he nodded without a second thought. “But that’s the life.”
“Doesn’t have to be,” she reasoned.
Dean felt his smile drop, glancing down at the blue water around him before sighing, “Is for us.”
“Yeah,” Carmen agreed after a beat.
From the look on her face, Dean could tell she understood the life. Even if she’d never lived much of it herself. He opened his mouth, curious about something, before Sam caught his eye. He had apparently come down after trying to research, probably having reached a dead end and realized he needed a break. Sam walked out of the house, looking around before approaching the poolside. He was in his flannel, jeans, and boots just like Dean had been before, sticking out like a sore thumb. Dean raised an eyebrow.
“Look who decided to grace us with his presence,” Dean projected teasingly.
“Hit a dead end,” Sam said predictably, sitting down next to Carmen. “What are you guys up to?” he asked in a friendly manner.
“I’m babysitting,” Carmen remarked.
Sam turned to her understanding. “Sounds about right.”
They both watched Dean looking up at them from the water as if waiting for them to play with him. Carmen gave Sam a look, as he just smiled back.
“You guys are boring!” Dean exclaimed jealously. “Get in here already!”
“In my boots?” Sam questioned pointedly.
“Yeah, before I pull you in,” he nodded adamantly.
Sam didn’t hesitate. “Dean, if you pull me in, I will eat chili in the car.”
Dean’s eyes widened with attitude. “Fine then, suit yourselves. I’m gonna take a few laps.”
“Have fun,” Sam offered.
“Yeah, you wanna play mermaids later?” Carmen chimed in.
Dean rolled his eyes at them before diving down into the water and swimming towards the other end in long, broad strokes. He swam vigorously, hoping the loud, fun splashing would pique Carmen and Sam’a interest. No such luck. Dean sucked in a heavy breath, still persisting. Sam chuckled at him before turning to Carmen thoughtfully. He’d yet to really talk to Robert’s daughter, but from what he could tell she seemed cool, and interesting. Not like the shallow, soft rich girl he would’ve expected to live in a house like this.
“You working tonight?” Sam asked her.
“Yeah,” she nodded.
“Dive bar, right?” Sam recalled. “Your dad mentioned they make the best fries.”
Carmen smiled fondly. “He loves those beer-battered things. I bring them home only on Saturdays so he doesn’t get high cholesterol again. Friday is his fry day, and Sunday is his ice cream day.”
Sam was charmed. “That’s like me trying to get Dean to start super food Sundays.”
Carmen snickered. “Sounds gay.”
Sam just looked at her. “That’s exactly what Dean said.”
She shrugged, sitting back in her chair to talk to him. Sam was surprised how down to earth she was, but then again, her father was just about one of the most cool, neutral guys he’d ever met, especially amongst hunters.
“You have a lot of tattoos,” Sam noticed, matter of fact.
“You two really are brothers,” she remarked.
“Sorry,” Sam policed himself, “I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“It’s okay. You can stare,” she promised coolly.
Sam appreciated her lack of judgment. “It’s just. We meet hunters twice your age all the time, and I’ve never even seen one with as many as you.”
Carmen shrugged. He scanned all the way down to her legs, even seeing those covered. It was a completely innocent glance, nothing more than an aesthetic curiosity. But Dean seemed to notice it, stopping to stand in the middle of the pool and watch them.
“The art style is really cool, I’ve never seen tattoos like those,” Sam commented, “What was the inspiration?”
“Mm, it’s an amalgamation of things,” she thought.
Sam’s gaze lingered. “It’s so nice to meet someone else who knows the word ‘amalgamation’,” he said with relief, glancing momentarily at a frowning Dean, his head floating above the water.
“I’m sure,” she remarked.
“You mind if I ask about them?” Sam asked permission.
“Go ahead,” she invited.
“They symbolize anything?” he asked. “Or do they just look cool? I think it’s interesting some people just get them because they look good.”
“Some of mine do,” she shrugged. “The orchids don’t,” she pointed to her shoulder.
“Huh,” he noticed the delicate design.
“But this one does.”
Sam followed along as she pointed to a design of these big white birds, intertwined with flowers. “What are those?”
“They’re cranes. In Chinese mythology, they say cranes can carry souls to heaven,” she said calmly.
“I’ve read that,” he nodded, genuinely interested. “Why’d you get them?”
“My dad’s brother. My uncle Kevin. He was a hunter too,” she explained. “We lost him a few years ago. Suicide.”
“I’m so sorry,” Sam’s eyes widened slightly as the admission sobered him.
Carmen just continued, not distraught or anything, “I got them so I could imagine he went to heaven.”
Sam almost melted at the kindness. “Do you believe?” he asked curiously.
He was well aware he and Dean held the answer to that particular question of humanity’s, but he didn’t want to give it away.
“‘Believe’? I don’t know,” Carmen admitted. “But ‘like’? No.”
Sam paused. “That’s a fair answer,” he agreed wholeheartedly.
“Demons are real, right?” she reasoned. “There’s bound to be other stuff. On the other side… Not sure I wanna know.”
“I respect that,” Sam said honestly.
Carmen looked at him. “You shoot dice?”
The change in topic genuinely made Sam Winchester laugh.
“No wonder Dean likes you so much.”
“He does?” Carmen asked, with no discomfort or anything to it.
“Yeah,” Sam gulped, realizing the awkwardness. “He does.”
“Dice?” Carmen grabbed them from the table, holding them up.
“Are those real casino dice?” he realized.
“Yup,” she nodded.
Sam laughed nervously, “I don’t have any money to spare.”
“Mints? Cigarettes? Bragging rights?” she supplied.
Sam raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure we’re not related?”
“I hope not,” she remarked.
He didn’t really understand the reason behind that sentiment, but she was rolling before he could ask.
“Bragging rights it is,” he declared with a sigh, the dynamic between them casual and familiar.
Carmen and Sam shot Craps, laughing and talking amongst themselves as Dean waded in the water, unsure of whether he belonged in the conversation.
