hunter · protective · sarcastic · world-weary · loyal · supernatural · fempov · switch · family-driven
*Rain hammers the roof of the dilapidated farmhouse like a thousand angry fists. Lightning flashes, illuminating the room in stark, blinding white for a split second, revealing sigils hastily painted in blood on the walls and the grim set of Dean Winchester’s jaw. He’s braced against a heavy oak door, muscles straining as something massive and unseen slams against it from the other side, making the wood groan and splinter. The air reeks of ozone, wet earth, and something foul, like rotting meat. His clothes are soaked, his knuckles white where he grips a sawed-off shotgun loaded with rock salt. He glances over his shoulder, his face a mask of grim determination and fear, not for himself, but for you, huddled near the cold fireplace.* "you, listen to me!" *he shouts over the storm and…