#endfaith

[fidelissimi-a]

@endfaith

she feels like a super proud mama right now, watching her boy take his first steps without falling and busting his ass. and it’s not too far off, honestly. it’s his first real   d e m o n   p u l l   all without the assistance of her trusty little pig sticker.     ‘   so?     how did it feel?   ’

[marginwrote]

     “you’re new here.”  either that or the stranger standing below him on the stairwell was only visiting. nobody else who lived in the building regularly would have batted an eye at jess’s bruised-up, dirty face, small and skinny though he was.  “you lookin’ for somebody?”    //    @endfaith  /  ♥’d  ;  open 

[meddlingheels]

     ❝  okay ,  but ...  if velma was right all along ,  why do you  &&  dean keep  so many weapons  in the trunk ??   i'm not judging but that’s  c r e e p y ...  ❞

( @endfaith / ♡ for scn!daphne )

[selfsaving]

*  &  →  @endfaith .

               “   HEY ...   ”     and  he  immediately  starts  laughing  for  no  apparent  reason.  takes  him  three  more  attempts  at  ‘ HEY ’  to  get  any  further.  he’s  only  had  two  or  three  drinks   !     but  already  coherency  is  slipping  away  from  him.  hand  touches  briefly  on  the  other’s  arm  as  he  GRINS  in  his  own  idea.     “   we  should  get  shots.  you  wanna  do  some  shots   ?   ”

[zomboye]

WRING YOUR HANDS,      FOLD THEM IN YOUR LAP.           squeeze and squeeze and squeeze until a little    colour    reaches your frozen fingertips.          you feel the    knot    in your chest drop into your stomach,     and when you close your eyes to    imagine    it,     you see it like a flip  -  book animation of a scribble that grows and    grows    until it covers the page.           “          but how can you  ...     walk away from something,          and    still    come back  ...     to it  ?          ”

`   i .     @endfaith   /     ♡

[markedkiller]

“this can’t be goodbye.”

     sure it can. why not? what makes tonight different than any other night? he’s over welcomed his stay, and even if sam say’s he hasn’t—- they both know the truth. there isn’t room here anymore. the spaces dean used to take up are suddenly overshadowed ... and he can’t make himself fit. and hell. he’d sure been trying the last few days. 

     the kid’s got friends here, and whether they know it or not, they look at him like they can’t believe he’s sam’s older brother. the conversations are short, never getting past the point where he explains he takes up unwanted part time jobs here and there—- and the looks he gets are coated in pity and mock respect. these kids have never worked a hard days work in their life. never held a gun loaded with silver bullets, pointed dead center at a werewolf’s chest. they don’t know the sound of a wendigo stalking your scent on a trail. how it feels to not only hear the sound of your own bones snapping, but the way it’s worse when it’s coming from someone you love. 

     no. they know safe world things. what they want for dinner and flashcards for tests they’re cramming for the next day. what’s worse. sam wants to be that too. blind to the world he knows is only a step away. dad was right. it’s better to just ... let his brother go. he heaves the duffel bag more securely on his shoulder, stares at the ground where sam’s socked feet are a strikingly stark comparison of his own mud caked boots.     ❝     good a’night as any.     ❞     he shrugs.

     ❝     you can’t really be out until i stop comin’ round. so i‘m gonna stop. ... plus, dad called. so.     ❞

[markedkiller]

first things first   ----   dean  loves his brother.  when there’s nothing left in the world,  as long as it’s the two of them,  everything is good,  everything has purpose.  trust is a little harder to come by,  running in short supply these days;  but it’s there too,  buried though it may be.  despite these solid  facts   ...   that dean would kill for his brother,  bleed for his brother,  die  for his brother,  he’s also  TERRIFIED  of the boy.  most of the time he’s convinced he’s got the part down pat,  hiding the features of his face as  concern  rather than  d i s g u s t  when one of his  ...  powers  pops into play.  but every now and again,  dean can’t help but feel  sick  by the idea.  waking up from  NIGHTMARES,  the image of a brother with blinking hollowed yellow eyes at him,  laughing,  blood dripping from his lips  ----  it leaves him unnerved.  on edge.  there simply is something not  right  about the fact,  no matter how hard his brother urges him to see the good side of it all.  he can find none.

there is  no  good side.  

if it were  anyone  else besides his  BROTHER  saying such things,  he’d have probably put them down already.  as it were,  that’s the  ONLY  thought more frightening to him than the one where sam can kill demons with his mother fucking  mind.

so when they get a call from bobby,  the both of them the closest ones to memphis,  dean can’t help the twisted feeling in his gut when it’s clear to him the case involves  demons.  no wonder sam seems so  ...  springy.  he’d rather hunt  anything  else at this point.  even a fucking  rawhead  would be preferable;  keep his brother far away from those black eye sons of bitches as he can.  but sam’s the one who took the call.  and now they’re in the car,  and he’s only got about 300 miles to convince the guy to drop the case.

           ❝  haven’t you had enough of demons yet  ??  we just got off a case,  i can call bobby back  ----  say we need some time off. i don’t want us to  ...  burn out,  or anything.  ❞

[fidelissimi-a]

💬

     “You make me feel like I’m not good enough.”