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WARNING: general Supernatural spoilers

PG13




Dean Winchester thought that showing the demon-victim's picture to residents of the surrounding area might be able to give the brothers a clearer picture on where the man had come from and what had killed him. What he failed to tell Sam was that most of the surrounding area was bars and clubs of a disreputable nature.

But the elder Winchester considered this more as a lucky break than a chance to destroy evil.

The first two bars yielded no results, nor were there any men or women on the street corners who recognized the dead man’s face or even chanced a second glance.

And finally, Dean thought to himself, finally, they reached the club.

Wayward Gentlemen the sign read.

A case that actually involved strippers *ahem* exotic dancers, he corrected himself.

The picture was quietly passed around, met with a shake of the head every time, until it got to security.

The man was tall, bald, and menacing enough. “Yeah, I seen ‘im.” He grunted.

Dean raised his eyebrows and waited for him to elaborate. When the man didn’t, he rolled his eyes and said, “Is there anything else you’d like to add? This is for an investigation.”

The guard ignored Dean, snapped his fingers at his subordinate, and pointed to a particularly drunk man who was insistently trying to seduce one of the club’s girls.

He turned back to Dean, clearly not wanting to deal with a federal agent. “He was asking after one of the girls. Wanted to know what time she got off. I told him that he couldn’t smell any worse if he rolled in a pile of hot shit.”

“So you didn’t tell him about the girl?”

The man glared down at Dean.

“I’ll take that as a no.” the hunter muttered and shifted uncomfortably. “I’m going to need to talk to her.”

“Sorry, she hasn’t been into work in two days. I’m not surprised with that creep looking for her.” He said, clearly not sorry.

“Yeah, well, that creep mysteriously died recently, so be a peach and get me any employee info you have on her. And I need it now.”

The bald man stood, staring down at the older Winchester, before mumbling something about finding the owner and walking off.

Dean shook his head. Can’t people just cooperate every once and a while?

He turned to find Sam deep in conversation with a drop-dead-gorgeous blond. Wait, how had he ended up talking to the security guard and Sam ended up questioning a dancer?

Within a few minutes, the manager walked in to speak with the brothers. Upon verifying that they were, in fact, agents (meaning he stared skeptically at their badges and pretended to know what he was doing), he handed them a very thin employee file and suggested they be on their way.

One more club he wouldn’t get to enjoy, Dean thought woefully.

Once they were seated in the Impala, Dean opened the manila folder, removing the one piece of paper within.


First Name
Patricia


Last Name
Rubens


Address
7845 E. Cross Dr., Apt. 1B


Date of Birth
Jan 2nd, 1986


Telephone 1
(312) 559-0979

Telephone 2
N/A


“Patricia Rubens, huh? Does that sound like a born ‘n bred Chicago citizen to you?” Dean chuckled.

Sam shook his head at his brother’s antics. “Rubens is actually a Dutch surname. So, no, I guess not.”

“Tell me why you even know that, Sammy.”

“Because I paid attention in art history, Dean.”

Dean cocked his head and thought for a moment. “I never took art history.”

“Yes you did. We had the same instructor. Remember, it was in Ohio, when dad took us on the ghost possession hunt.”

“But I’m older than you.” Dean said.

“It was an elective.” Sam replied flatly. “Now can we please get back on the case?”

“Yeah right, like I would actually choose to sit through a course on art history.” Dean grumbled. “Okay, so let’s give Pat a visit. Maybe she can tell us how a demon who followed her home had its eyes burned out of its head.”

- - - - - - - - -

“Hello, _______.”

You back peddled, tripping over your own feet, and ended up with your back against the hallway wall.

Holy-friggin-shit Gabriel

The angel grabbed your arm and dragged you to the couch.

You sat down.

Gabriel paced the tiny room. He stopped a moment to drag a hand down his face and offer you a hopeless look.

“What?” He snapped. “Nothing to say? Because I sure as hell don’t have anything to say, and one of us needs to say something.”

You cautiously started to rise from your seat. “Gabri-“

“Sit the hell down.”

You dropped back into the chair.

“The last time we met, I specifically remember telling you to stay put.” He gestured widely to the dingy room. “Is this staying put?”

“Let me explain-“

“You don’t get to explain after running out like that. What part did you not understand about ‘stay put’. Was it the ‘stay’ or the ‘put’?” He asked, patronizingly.

“What about the part where you exploded in my kitchen and deep fried Thomas? What about that part?”

“Oh, oh, that is rich. You know, coming from the chick who literally stabbed him in the heart.”

Now that stung. You felt hot tears spring to your eyes. “Yeah, well what about when you left me for a year because you didn’t like my boyfriend? If I’m so stupid for running away, then what are you?”

He had the decency to look ashamed at that.

“I needed you.” You pressed. “You said you’d always be there for me. I begged you every day to come back. Not even come back, but just to talk or visit, just so I knew that you were alive.”

Gabriel sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I was there.” He said quietly.

“What?”

“I was always there, watching over you. I knew what could happen if I didn’t, and I was just too… I don’t know, too proud to admit it.”

You felt the first tear drip down your cheek.

“It’s been almost three years.” He continued. “Three years, _______. I thought I’d lost you. Heaven and Hell both wanted to rip you apart, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. I thought-“His voice cracked. “I thought you were dead.”

You jumped up from the couch, surprising both Gabriel and yourself, and tightly hugged your angel.

You both stood there for a moment, just embracing, reassuring yourselves that the other was real.

He gave a breathless laugh and pulled you close. “You have no idea how happy I am I found you.”

You released him, slightly embarrassed. “Yes, well, I’m happy to see you too.”

“C’mon, sugar. I’ll take us somewhere we can chat. Trust me when I say we have a lot to talk about.” He snapped his fingers and away you went.

Just another adventure with your angel.
SupernaturalXReader Loch Neph Monster Part 4
What another update so soon why is this- OH IT'S JUST SUPER SHORT OH OK

JK I just love to torment myself.

So... Gabriel   





:icongabehellzyeahplz:

Enjoy lovelies XD
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WARNING: general Supernatural spoilers

PG13




The boys arrived at the crime scene, happy to return to their jeans and jackets. In broad daylight, the alleyway didn’t look much like the site of a murder.

Dean kneeled on the pavement, observing the markers already set by forensics. There wasn’t much visible evidence aside from a short spray of dried blood and some scorching on the sidewalk.  

Sam stood a few feet away, talking with the police on his cell. “The department says that the DNA doesn’t match anything in their data base.”

Dean looked up at him from his position on the ground. “So what? All that means it that whoever did this hasn’t ever been arrested.”

Sam shrugged and looked at where the markers indicated the vic had fallen to the ground. He squinted as something caught his eye. “What’s that?” He asked, pointing at the ground.

“What? I don’t see anything.”

“That right there, that powder.” Sam insisted, walking closer.

Dean took another look and swiped his finger over the substance. He raised it to his nose and sniffed hesitantly.

“Sulfur.” He said grimly.

“Oh, come on, not this again. Demons? Really?”

“Hey, I don’t pick the monsters.” Dean chuckled. “At least this one isn’t on a plane.”

“We just don’t have much experience here. Maybe we should call another hunter, someone who deals with demons more.”

“C’mon, Sammy! Where’s your sense of adventure? It’ll be fun.”

Sam snorted. “Sure, whatever.”

Dean took a step back and looked at the crime scene as a whole. “So what do we know, here?”

“Well, for starters, I think it’s safe to assume that the victim we looked at in the morgue was the demon. The pattern of sulfur is dusted around his body’s markers. Also, what doesn’t die or heal for weeks after getting shot?”


“Not an oh-so-innocent human.” Dean answered.

“Nope.”

“But the fact that vic number one shot the demon at the time of his death means that the demon is the person who killed vic number one.”

Sam nodded. “So I’d say that it’s safe to assume the demon also killed vics number two, three, and four. They all followed the same pattern, prolonged torture and a crushed skull.”

Dean sat for a moment, confused. “Then who the hell killed the demon?!”

--------------

You sat on the couch, head in your hands, and tried to remember how everything had come to this.
Your mother died the same night she dropped the bomb about your father being part of the heavenly host. You were alone that day, at 18 years old. No family to speak of, no purpose or direction. Alone.
Well, maybe not completely alone. There was Gabe. Strange as he seemed, you knew that he was important from the very beginning.

Your mother had used some of her final moments to explain to you that he was someone you could trust, confide in, even. He would protect you in her absence.
You had met him shortly after the last guest left your mother’s funeral.
It had been a rather ordinary affair. The service was short and proceeded with the expected formalities. You said a few words that meant very little to anyone but yourself, the pastor prayed, the room breathed a quiet ‘amen’, and it was done.
Once you were alone in the church, the first thing you did was shut the casket’s lid. You then retrieved a single sunflower from your bag and tucked it among the white roses and pale lilies arranged near the base of the casket.

“Why a sunflower?” a voice behind you asked.

You turned to look at the newcomer. He was older than you, maybe his late twenties, with light brown hair and amber eyes. However, what caught your attention was not the openness in his expression or the gentleness to his voice.

It was his clothes.

This guy had intruded on a private funeral viewing in flip-flops, jeans, and a T-shirt.

You looked at him strangely. “They were her favorite.” You finally answered.

The man smiled and snapped his fingers. “Look again.”

You quirked and eyebrow and turned back to look at the arrangement, gasping at what you saw.
The entire front of the church was stuffed with gorgeous, blooming sunflowers. They seemed to crowd the stage, piling over one another. Your mother’s coffin was pleasantly tucked into the vibrant, yellow blooms. It looked quaint and almost happy.

“How did you do that?” You exclaimed, turning back to the stranger.

He chuckled. “I’m an angel.”

You looked him up and down again once more. “You don’t look like an angel.”

“There aren’t many angels who do.”

Finally your brain put two and two together.

“You’re Gabriel!” You all but shouted.

His smile widened. “Call me Gabe.”

You approached him apprehensively. “So you’re really an angel?” You asked doubtfully.

“In the flesh.” He smirked, as if finding humor in a private joke.

You stopped in front of him. He was handsome, but a bit odd. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

“Yeah, I would have come to the service, but I figured you’d need a moment alone. All of those strangers didn’t exactly allow for honest mourning.”

“Thanks.” You smiled. “There was one other person I was looking for. Do you...” You trailed off, toeing a crack in the dark tile with your dress shoe. “It’s just, I thought my father might have come by. My mom already explained that he didn’t want anything to do with me, but… Maybe it’s silly, but I thought he might come to, I don’t know, pay his respects.”

“I don’t think you’re dad would ever come within a hundred light-years of earth if he had it his way.”

“Yeah, I kind of figured.”

The angel shrugged. “Sorry, kid. His loss.”  

“Did you at least know him?” You asked hopefully.

Gabe shook his head.

“At least tell me his name… Please.”

“Look, kid, I ain’t gonna sugar coat it. Your dad doesn’t even know you’re alive. If he did, well, that’d be one more problem to add to the 99 you already got. Capiche?”

You shrugged. “Fair enough, my mom basically said the same thing.”

You smiled and held out a hand. “I don’t think I actually introduced myself. My name is ______.”

Gabe rolled his eyes, but smirked and shook your hand anyway. “I know.”



You sighed and rose from the couch, trying to ignore the pain that flared in your shoulder. You would need to run away again. You’d pack up some essentials and find another town. Something farther this time. More remote.
You often wondered how your life had ended up the way it did. What, with an angel fully willing to stay by your side and protect you. You knew it was your fault, though. It was all your fault.



You lived in your mother’s house for a while. The first few months were hard. You worked part time jobs and went to school for a nursing license. One evening, you were extremely exhausted, and you still needed to sort through the hospital bills you knew you couldn’t pay, all left over from your mothers last few years in the hospital.

Finally, you put your head in your hands and broke down sobbing.

“Gabe.” You whimpered quietly, wanting desperately to talk to your friend.

In a familiar flutter of wings, your angel appeared.

Upon seeing the state you were in, he rushed to your side. Once he succeeded in getting your hands away from your face, he didn’t get a very good look at your teary eyes, seeing as you immediately latched onto him, crying into his chest.

“Hey, okay, sugar. C’mon, you gotta tell me what’s wrong.”

You pulled away, hiccoughing and fisting away tears, You looked up at Gabe and sniffled.

When he took in your puffy eyes and trembling mouth, his heart broke. It was the first time he’d seen you cry. He pulled you back into his arms and sighed.

“Oh, for the love of- just tell me what’s wrong and I’ll fix it.” He sighed. How could you have him so completely wrapped around your finger?

You shook your head. “I don’t think that you can help. It’s just, I miss her. I miss her so much, Gabe. Everything is too much; I can’t do it alone.”

“You’re not alone. You’ve got me, remember?”

You nodded.

“Now,” He began, and clapped his hands together. “How can I help?”

That evening consisted mainly of Gabe snapping away your money problems and trying his absolute best to make you laugh. It was the first time since your mother died that you felt close to someone again. You felt like everything would be alright.




You shook your head at the memory. Yes, you probably needed help at the moment, but you certainly weren’t going to pray for Gabe and expect him to snap all of your troubles away. Those days were long gone, and you didn’t want a repeat of last time.




Not long afterwards, you’d met a guy. His name was Thomas. He was… Nice. Normal. And just then, normal was a good thing.

Gabe didn’t like him. The angel kept trying to convince you that he was dangerous or that you were a danger to him, anything to make you stop seeing him. However, you could tell that something else was bothering him.

When you told Gabe that you and Thomas were moving in together, the angel was furious. He shouted and threatened and basically pitched an angel sized fit that resulted in a city-wide blackout.

But in the end, he left you.

You moved in with Thomas.




You continued packing, stuffing some T-shirts into a duffle-bag. You wished you had listened to him. So many things could have been avoided if you had just listened to your friend.



About a year into your new relationship, and all was well. You liked Thomas, but you couldn’t say that you loved him. He wasn’t worth losing Gabe. Sometimes you were angry at yourself for letting your temper get the better of you, and sometimes you blamed Gabe for being so insufferably childish.

You had prayed to Gabe many times. You always told him that you wanted to talk it over with him. See if you could still be friends.

He never showed.

Not until Thomas tried to kill you.

You arrived home one evening from your classes at the local college. Normally, Thomas greeted you at the door or at least yelled a hello from some other area of your shared apartment, but it was too quiet.

You walked into the dark kitchen, and felt slightly silly for being so nervous. There was Thomas, standing next to the counter, his back facing you.

“Thomas!” You gasped in surprise. “There you are. I thought you-“

“Tommy isn’t here right now.” Your boyfriend turned around, flashing beetle black eyes. “But I can take a message.”

You backed away. “What’s wrong with you? What happened to your eyes?”

“I’m not your boyfriend, you stupid nephilim.” The thing snarled.

You reached behind you, feeling around for the knife-holder you knew was there until your fingers closed around the wooden handle of a steak knife. “What did you do with Thomas?”

The monster smiled and ignored your question. “There’s a price on your head, one that’s worth your weight in souls, and I’m here to collect. Just your head, though. Everything else will have to go.”

The creature leapt onto you with a cackle, black eyes glittering, hands extended like claws.

You reacted, driving the knife into the thing’s chest. You stepped away as it just stood there, seeming mildly surprised, before it began to laugh. It roared with laughter, slapping the counter top as if you stabbing it were just the funniest thing in the world.


“You really don’t know a damned thing, do you? Well, it was a good try.” It reached a hand out, catching you by the throat, and squeezed.

You struggled, kicking your legs in the air, trying to pry its hand off your neck. You managed to get one word out.

“Gabriel-“

Before you could finish, the thing tightened its grasp, choking off the rest of your prayer.

It took him a moment. You thought he wouldn’t come like so many times before, but suddenly, the room began to get brighter. The glow strengthened quickly until the room was engulfed in white light. It was like the sun had risen just in front of your refrigerator.

The monster screamed and dropped you to the ground. It frantically wound its arms around its face in an attempt to block out the brightness.

You turned your eyes back to the source. It was Gabe. He stood directly in the center of the light. No, he was the light.

The room became brighter, and the monster screamed louder, but you remained unharmed.

Strange forms began to emerge from the angel, winding around him and filling the space. There were faces, both human and animal. They filled the area, morphing, fading, appearing, and disappearing. They were insubstantial, as if a great creature were trying to force itself into too small a space.

You fell to your knees and hid your face. He was awesome and beautiful and… Terrifying.

All at once, the room was dim again. Then it was just you, the angel, and the charred remains of your boyfriend.

Gabriel knelt before you. You didn’t move, opting to stare at the floor, instead. He gently pulled your shaking body to its feet.

“What’s the matter, kiddo? Can’t even spare an old friend a smile?”

You still couldn’t look him in the eye. “Th-there was something else in here. It was like you changed.”

Gabriel let his hands drop to his side, dumbfounded. “You
saw me?”

“That was
you ?!”

The angel nodded. “Cat’s outta the bag. We angels have true forms. Well, what you saw was just a sample. I couldn’t fit one sixteenth of my true from into this shack.”

You looked to the left at what used to be Thomas and felt your stomach lurch. You leaned over the sink and vomited.

You spat into the sink. “Why did you kill him?”

Gabriel’s eyes softened. “________, I’m sorry, but he was already gone.”

You finally met the angels gaze. You were angry, confused, scared. It all showed in your eyes. Gabriel reached a hand towards you, but seemed to think better of it.

“Listen, there’s going to be more where that came from,” he said, jerking his thumb at the body, “, and I need to get you out of here before the cavalry arrives.”

You nodded. “What are we going to do?”

“I’m going to see if there’s any more of them.” He grabbed a knife from your drawer and made a small cut on him palm. He painted a symbol on the wall with his blood, and as he did, you noticed a faint shimmer around his head in the shape of a disk. It reflected the moonlight pouring in through the window. Once the symbol was complete, a pulse ran throughout the house and the marking shimmered pale blue.

“This should keep you under the radar until I get back. Oh, and one last thing, you seeing me in the angelic equivalent of my birthday suit means that you got your mojo.”

“My what?”

“Your power, you can use it now. But I need you to hold off until we’re somewhere safe, or you’ll be a walking monster magnet. I can’t explain it all yet, but soon, I’ll tell you everything. Now, pack your bags. When I get back, we’re ditching this joint.”

With a ruffle of feathers, Gabriel disappeared.

You stood in your apartment, stunned. You needed to get out of here before Gabriel returned. None of it felt right. Was it a coincidence that Gabriel fought so hard to stop you moving in with Thomas, and suddenly your boyfriend tries to kill you just in time for Gabriel to kill him?

Yeah, crazy coincidence.

But how were you going to hide from an angel? He did once tell you that he couldn’t track you the same way he could track regular humans. It had to do with you having angel blood.

But there was something more, something you weren’t quite willing to admit to yourself.

You were scared of him.

You knew he was an angel. He could teleport, make objects appear out of thin air, and do amazing things, but it never really registered.

Not until his very presence sent you crashing to your knees. Not until he killed a man without lifting a finger.

He wasn’t Gabe to you anymore. He was Gabriel, a warrior of God. Something unfamiliar and dangerous.

You didn’t trust him.

You quickly packed a bag and grabbed your keys. You were going to find some answers on your own.

You lived out of your car for a while. It wasn’t easy moving from town to town, looking for work and information. You eventually discovered a network of people who found and killed supernatural creatures. They called themselves hunters.

You figured some of them would know something about angels, but when you asked, they always laughed you off. They said that angels were just like unicorns, a fairy tale (which was another huge disappointment).

So you kept searching, but no matter where you worked or went, every now and again, a black eyed monster would find you and send you packing once more.

That was how you found yourself working deep in the city at a club. Surely nothing would find you here.

Wrong again.





As you finished packing, you considered the most recent monster. You hadn’t met many of them, and when you asked the hunters about them, you got a mix of reports about their origins. Some said that they were evil spirits possessing people; some said that they were the dead come back to life, but there was one account you found increasingly worrying.

Demons.

You hoped the hunters were wrong about that.

There was nothing left to do now but find a new town and a new life. There were some days you regretted not staying with Gabriel or letting him explain himself, but you knew he’d likely stopped searching for you a long time ago.

You would never see him again.

Stopping at the door, you turned to observe your already forgotten identity, as you had so many times before.

You opened the door, ready to head back out into the world, but were jolted from your musings by the face of someone you weren’t prepared to see.

“Hello, ______”
SupernaturalXReader Loch Neph Monster Part 3
Wow, part three and I already have no idea what the heck I'm doing. lol Dean and Sam barely knew what a demon was in the beginning of the first season. Poor little babus.

Why is most of this chapter a giant flashback?
Why is Gabriel so concerned about the reader?
Will I ever tell you who the reader's father is?

WHO KNOWS?!

ROFL JK but seriously, I hope you lovelies enjoy. :iconsupertighthugplz:

Oh, and the first person to guess the correct identity of reader-chan's father gets a one-shot.

(If I see it's correct, I'll note you with the details so that it won't spoil it for anybody else. Also, you only get one guess)

Supernatural © Eric Kripke & Warner Brothers
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Castiel and Crowley HT#001 by WhisperingWatermelon
Castiel and Crowley HT#001
This is for the Good and Evil Hunting Things 001 contest

So, Castiel vs Crowley is one of my favorites for good versus evil seeing as they're both very powerful and have clashing personalities. Tell you what, though, the hell hounds were a blast. I tried to keep them consistent with the cannon but sort of tweak them to fit my own idea of a demon dog by adding a little doberman and bear in the mix. I liked doing their eyes and sloppy facial features. Very fun.

Supernatural © Eric Kripke & Warner Brothers

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Mature Content Filter is On
(Contains: violence/gore)
WARNING: general Supernatural spoilers

PG13

This takes place in the first season.

                           
                                     Five years later...

So maybe exotic dancing wasn't the occupation you'd picked for your 'Ten Years from Now' essay in high school, but nobody was going to think to look for a half-angel girl in a strip club. Yes, you wanted an education, meaningful relationships, the works, but you also wanted to not be dead, so laying low it was.

That, however, meant dealing with some less than celestial problems. For example, the guy that had been following you for the last ten minutes. It wasn't uncommon for somebody to follow you out of your workplace, but they usually announced themselves or gave up by now.

Finally, you stopped under a streetlight and turned to face the figure, his features obscured by the darkness.

"Hey, buddy, I don't have anything for you, so unless you turn around and get out of here, I'm calling the cops."

He walked into the light and stopped. The man lifted his head and regarded you blankly. There was something disjointed about the way his limbs bent and how his neck twisted to look up at the sky.

You took the phone from your coat pocket and stepped further away from the increasingly unnerving man.

"Listen, I'm calling 911 unless you turn the hell around and go back to the club."

He closed his eyes, sniffing the air. When he opened them, you were too shocked to do anything but stare.

At first, you though his eyes were gone and you were looking through the empty sockets and into his skull, but when you caught sight of the gleam of the lamplight on the slick surface of the orbs rolling in his head, you realized.

His eyes were black as pitch.

The creature smiled, lips peeling away from bloody teeth.

"I wasn't at the club."

You couldn't reply, but he didn't seem to care. He took something long and silver out of his jacket, drawing your attention to the rest of his body. There were a few holes in his bloody shirt, and his skin looked discolored, but what really got to you was the smell. It reminded you of when a squirrel had gotten trapped under your floorboards and died there. It stunk up the apartment for weeks before you found it.
Overall, something  had to be gluing this guy together for him to even by standing in front of you.  

"I'm here for your grace."

You dragged your eyes back up to meet his. "I don't know what that means."

"That's okay. You don't have to know what it is for me to cut it out of you."

He lunged for you with the metallic object, and you twisted away reflexively.

Not quickly enough.
You felt blinding pain.
The piece of metal was jammed in your shoulder.
A dagger.

The wound flashed greyish white, spitting streamers of the glowing light.

The creature held his hands over the wound and started mumbling something straight out of Demons for Dummies.

Hell no.

You locked both of your hands over his face and tried to stick your fingers into his eyes. Maybe you could blind him and get away.

Instead, well, his face exploded.

White light shot out of his eyes and mouth, and his jaw unhinged in what was less of a scream and more just a horrible noise that you would not stop having nightmares about ever.

He stood frozen, lips parted, head smoking, and toppled to the pavement.

The black eyes looked like overdone marshmallows. The previously terrifying entity was reduced to nothing more than a steaming pile of broken bones and bleeding flesh.

You swayed on your feet, numb to all disgust, panic, and pain. Exhausted, you picked up your purse and stumbled away, knife still imbedded in your shoulder, towards your apartment.


---------------------------------

Between demons and family matters, it was a wonder the Winchesters still had time for the routine monster murder. That is, if routine meant that they had no idea what they were dealing with.

The two brothers stood in the medical examiner’s office, decked out in full federal monkey suits, as they were given the low down on their victim.

The ME, a friendly blond (and quite something to behold in Dean’s opinion), snapped on a pair of blue gloves.

“I’m sorry to say we get quite a few visitors of the federal sort around here. We’re not exactly the friendliest city, but this last month has been something else.”

Sam cleared his throat. “Yes, we were briefed on the first four vics.”

“Well,” the woman pulled the sheet down from the body to reveal the man laying on the cold metal table. “This one was a bit different.”

Dean crossed his arms and eyed the corpse. “How so?”

“The injuries and time of death don’t correlate.” The ME gestured to the punctures in the chest and abdomen.

“There’s evidence of three gunshot wounds. The entry points show charring and trace amounts of gunpowder, meaning close range, and there are only two exit wounds. During the autopsy of the chest cavity, I found the remaining bullet. Ballistics already came by and picked it up. But here’s the funny part. It matched a firearm registered to the first victim from three weeks ago.”

“Hold on,” Dean broke in, “You’re telling me that this guy was walking around for almost a month after taking three slugs in the chest?”

She sighed. “I’d tell you that’s impossible, but it’s the only real explanation. These wounds have about three weeks worth of decay and victim number one discharged his firearm three times before he died. That gun was taken into evidence and hasn’t been removed since. This guy was literally a dead man walking.”

“That is strange.” Sam said. He pointed to the eyes. “What can you tell us about this here?”

“Yes, that.” the blond woman collected a thin metal probe from her tool set and used it to pull back the remains of the eyelid.

“The pattern of tissue damage around the eye suggests the face was handled post mortem. While the skin was too burned to lift any fingerprints, I could conclude from the shape of the hand that the person who grabbed the face had slender fingers and was most likely a woman. As for the eyes…”

Her tool crunched as it poked around in the socket.

Dean pulled a face.

“Let’s just say that it would have taken something powerful to deal out this much damage in such a short period of time, especially considering the concentrated area of the heat.”

She shrugged and set her tool down on the table with a clink.

“I haven’t started work on the skull yet, but I wouldn’t be surprised if our John Doe’s brain tissue is completely fried.”

- - - - - - - -  - - - - - - -  -

You paced your tiny apartment, stopping every so often to observe the sleek dagger sitting on your kitchen counter.
Why could it hurt you? You were half angel. Nothing hurt you.

Your shoulder was wrapped in gauze. It had finally stopped bleeding, but it wasn’t healing like you though it would. A wound like this should have closed in minutes. Bruises healed in seconds.

That dagger biting onto your skin was the most excruciating feeling you’re ever experienced, which was saying something. You’d been shot, stabbed, beaten… All because you weren’t quite human.

You shook your head in an effort to clear it and sat down, taking deep breaths. Someone knew you were here. Whether it was only the monster who attacked you or another who tipped him off, it all meant one thing to you.

It meant they could find you. Angels, those black eyed creatures, humans, it didn’t matter. They would find you, and they would kill you.
SupernaturalXReader Loch Neph Monster Part 2
Whelp, here's our first official installment of Nephy. Remember in season one where demons were actually scary? XD

So, like I said, this series will have general SPN spoilers about the lore and plot line. The story begins in the first season when *SPOILERS* the Winchesters are still lookin for their pop and have only encountered the demon on a plane, so the brothers really don't have much of an idea of what's going on.

I'm a little apprehensive of mixing angelic themes into the canonical story line at such an early point, but, ehh, we'll see how it goes.

It's gonna be fun, lovelies. Enjoy. :iconeweplz:

Supernatural © Eric Kripke & Warner Brothers

I wonder what the Winchesters did on Father's day.
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HT#001 Ruby and Sam by WhisperingWatermelon
HT#001 Ruby and Sam
Throwback to psycho Rubes and her seducing our poor Sammy XD Ruby is pretty awesome, though.

So, this is for the Good/Evil HuntingThing #001 Contest. Figuired I'd give it a shot, you know, be a participating member and all that jazz.

Have a wonderful day, lovelies!

Supernatural © Eric Kripke & Warner Brothers
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WhisperingWatermelon
Psst!
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Order: Cucurbitales

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Genus: Citrullus

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I come from a long, prestigious line of watermelons.

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:iconmiss-union-jack:
Miss-Union-Jack Featured By Owner 2 days ago  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you so much for the watch. honey!!!  bee 
(I like your username omg)
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:iconookamiblack:
OokamiBlack Featured By Owner Jun 11, 2015  Student Traditional Artist
Hello friend and welcome to the group! :D :iconyaaayplz:

As for ur question, reader inserts like that usually stay in the Feature folder :)
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:iconwhisperingwatermelon:
Okie dokie thank you very much. :)
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:iconookamiblack:
OokamiBlack Featured By Owner Jun 12, 2015  Student Traditional Artist
Ur welcome and i hope u enjoy all the fanfic we provide! :)
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DrippingWords Featured By Owner Sep 4, 2014  Student Writer
:huggle: Thanks for the fave! :heart:
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CleverMessenger Featured By Owner Aug 31, 2014  Student Traditional Artist
I love everything about your profile!!! Your icon is the best thing I have seen all day~
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angelmewmew Featured By Owner Jul 26, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Thank you very much for the :+fav: !!! :iconsupertighthugplz: :heart:
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Odoms-Spire Featured By Owner Jul 16, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
:iconthxfavplz: Much appreciated! :love:
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Knight-Poet Featured By Owner Jul 15, 2014  Student Writer
Thank you very much for faving "Dear Death", from Citrus-Orange and me :)
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drade666 Featured By Owner Jul 14, 2014  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Thanks for the fav :XD:
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