#15x19 coda

[ruinedsam]

Gencest Fic Rec

Mostly oneshots because that's what I tend to read.

A Big Fake Hunter Wedding by Alyndra: humor/crack, case fic in which Sam and Dean get platonically married

acta non verba by laertez: 13x22 episode tag, Dean cleans the blood off Sam

a few things worth saying by hathfrozen: S10 AU, queerplatonic Sam and Dean, platonic kissing

An Irrevocable Condition by remy (iamremy): 4x21 CD, Dean doesn't leave Sam alone in the panic room

a hopeless violence [i named it love] by kanicro: S9 AU, instead of having an angel possess Sam, Dean gives him demon blood to save him

Aleph by story_monger: S4 AU, by the time the angels get Dean out of hell, he's already a demon.

And All She Saw Was Love by stillwaters01: S7 CD, death fic

Brother's Blood by diana_lucifera, stormageddon: Pilot AU, Dean is the one going missing on a hunt so John get Sam from Stanford | first part of a series, future parts wincest slow burn but this one is gen

cat crazed by altered: vaguely late seasons, Sam turns into a catboy, schmoop

Disney Princess Hair by Dyed_Red: Sam gets hit with a sleeping beauty curse, fluff

From me to you by EternalSheWolf: the epic love story of Sam and Dean in snapshots

Ghost in the Machine by phoenixflight: 15x20 coda, Dean sticks around as ghost until Sam burns his body

golgotha by redskyatmorning: S14 CD, Sam becomes the boyking to save Dean from Michael

Growing Darkness Taking Dawn by lightning and a lightning bug (spoons): S4, angst, hurt Sam

happier by altered: S10 AU, with a demon Dean who is obsessed with Sam

if you bite it, you own it by altered: weirdcest, non-sexual kink (biting)

it's not somebody who's seen the light by The_Bookkeeper: AU, Dean is the one with demon blood

I would like to watch you, sleeping by redmyeyes: S1, Dean watches Sam

Less Than Dirt. by ulexite: pre-series + S1, CD, case fic

Marked for Death by aceofhearts61, juba (jubah): post 15x19, Amara sends Sam and Dean on a trip of sorts to resolve their issues

Morning As They Come Down by kirathehyrulian, scippy: post 15x19, fluff

One Question Less by stardust_made: 8x23 coda

patchwork scars by altered: weirdcest, non-sexual kink (biting, painplay)

peace and unquiet by altered: weirdcest, non-sexual kink (hair pulling)

Premonition by cherie_morte: post 15x19, case fic

romeo and juliet are together in eternity (we can be like them) by saintsamantha: vaguely season 2, transfem Sam

so let it out and let it in by nowhere_blake: 12x02 coda, Mary POV

Sounds Like Truth and Feels Like Courage by sprinkles888: late seasons, queerplatonic Sam and Dean | Sam discovers the MoL found a way to utilize soul magic, platonic cuddling ensues amongst other things

stargazing by allforsammy: 8x23 coda, voicemail fix-it

stone number one by iamremy: 15x17 coda

with my pulse on your lips by altered: S10 AU, the demon!Dean we deserved, feeding Sam his blood

#fic rec #sam and dean #gencest #mine

[fanfic-corner]

do u have any fics that i wont have heard of? like ones with fewer hits so there harder to find

ooo this is a good one, anon! you haven't specified which fandom you're interested in, so I'll start with SPN and then do some other fandoms if people are interested :) and for the purposes of this, I'll be counting anything with under 5k hits as lesser known!

Lesser Known Destiel Fics

you're the one that i wanted to find by badritual (373)

The Castiel of old has fallen away like molted feathers, leaving behind a wholly new creation.

gay love pierced through the veil of death and saved the day by honeybee (444)

Cas doesn’t die. That’s literally it.

this is a good thing, dean. (prayer is a sign of faith) by cascountsdeansfreckles (529)

Dean’s legs still don’t want to move. He sits propped up against the wall and stares unseeing at the chair in the middle of the room. Everything that Cas said plays over and over in his head. The image of Cas looking devastatingly relieved, content, as he was taken from Dean won’t leave his mind.

He doesn’t know what else to do. So he prays.

1 Missed Call by glenien (597)

The buzzing never stops.

so it goes by K_K_TiBal (665)

Castiel returns one more time to retrieve something he left behind.

absurd in the best way by clasch (669)

Castiel tries to make a pie for Dean.

Bodily Communion by runsinthefamily (905)

Survival in Purgatory has some weird aspects.

may i feel said he by bk119 (1k)

a coda to 15.19. cas comes back, and words are said.

choices. by scoundrelhan (1.1k)

Castiel thinks he’s dying. Humans are always doing that.

you can have it, though by make_your_user_a_name (1.1k)

Jack was walking away and it was too late. It was too late because Dean didn’t think he would have to say anything. He thought Jack would bring it up and they would never have to know that he missed Cas so desperately it hurt. It hurt so goddamn bad.

And then Jack stopped and turned back to the Winchesters, his eyes focused on Dean. And that’s when it hit him. Jack knew. Jack knew what Cas had said. Jack knew Dean needed to say it or the second Cas was back everything would just go back to normal.

So he did.

“Bring him back.” His voice was low but it wasn’t threatening. It came out more broken than anything. Because he was so broken. And maybe it was okay to let them see it. “Bring Cas back, Jack. We,” he glanced at Sam and took a deep breath. “I need him.”

15x18 coda: it's in the being by contemplativepancakes (1.1k)

Blood splatters from a severed neck, the body twitching before it collapses to the floor. It sprays across Dean’s face, dotting red droplets over his cheeks and in his hair. Dean keeps his mouth shut so he doesn’t get the taste of copper stuck in it; he already can’t get Cas’s face out of his mind.

Dean knows this is the last place he should be, that with the world ending, it doesn’t really matter if there’s one less nest of vamps in the world, but if he stops moving, then he’ll… have to think.

“I wondered what my true happiness could even look like, because the one thing I want, it’s something I know I can’t have.”

Fuck, they wasted so much time.

15x19 coda: stripped of everything holy by contemplativepancakes (1.2k)

“About time we put you on the family tree, right?”

Jack sinks down in the chair across from him, contemplating. He puts the tip to the table and rests it there.

Jack glances up at him. “Why isn’t Cas’s name here?”

That’s a damn good question, Dean thinks. It’s because he was too much of a fucking coward. Dean’s still having trouble reconciling everything Cas said with the past ten years of his life. It seems like, maybe, if he thinks about it hard enough, he can see that Cas returned his feelings, but he still can’t believe Cas said all those things. He’s bullshit all the way through, but Cas… Cas hadn’t thought so.

Dean clears his throat. “We’ll add his next, huh?”

candles & wishes by harrow (1.2k)

Dean turned to Cas speculatively. “Do you have a birthday?”

Now Everything is Easy 'cause of You by chai_lattes (1.3k)

Cas never understood why humans were so fond of sleeping, but he was starting to. Dean chalked it up to knowing that they were finally safe, or Cas finally had a real bed, but Cas would just smile, quietly knowing the real difference was no longer having to sleep alone.

Cas reflects on being human, being happy, and being a morning person.

Chocolate, Caramel, and Zombies (Of a Metaphorical Sense) by TextReciprocation (1.4k)

Castiel approached the counter and looked at the menu contemplatively. The barista spun around to face him, eyes bright and hair untidy. He was roughly Castiel's height and build, with sandy hair and lightly tanned skin. Castiel's breath caught at the sight of him, but he bit his tongue, chastising himself.

Cute baristas were rarely gay and always taken. Castiel knew this. Fate, as it happened, was a cruel mistress.

Never Enough by make_your_user_a_name (1.5k)

It took him hours to notice it. He hadn’t felt it in the moment. Hadn’t felt the Cas’ hand stick slightly to his shoulder as it pushed him away, leaving him to face the Empty alone.

But now that he’d noticed it, it was all he could look at. That bright red handprint standing out starkly against his jacket. It was perfect, really. Not a drop out of place. Just a handprint and nothing else. That was all he had left.

The handprint where Castiel had “gripped him tight and raised him from perdition.” And now he’d saved him one more time. Same shoulder, same placement, same sting when Dean looked at it.

It was poetic in the cruelest of ways. And if it weren’t for everything, he would have thought this was Chuck’s writing. But, no. Castiel was the only part of Chuck’s story that he couldn’t control. Because Cas had fallen.

how's hope feeling today by sleepinnude (1.5k)

After Cas is gone, bees start to follow Dean.

Sunrise by mattzerella_sticks (1.7k)

Dean and Sam were free. Finally, unequivocally, free.

But this wasn't the happy ending Dean had expected. Maybe in the past, having Sam in the passenger seat tearing across an open stretch of highway as the sunsets, it'd be what he wanted. But that was years ago. He's not that man anymore. Dean's tired of sunsets, of saying goodbye. He yearns for a different ending. One that's less of an ending, and more of a beginning. A sunrise instead of a sunset.

Sam has his. Dean lost his. Despite this setback, he won't stop. He'll live in memory of his sunrise.

Except, what can he do when he feels those rays on his face again?

Loving Castiel by dinluke (1.9k)

“How did you find me?” Dean asks. Castiel squints and looks at him like he’s the sun.

“Your, uh, yearning was pretty loud,” he says sheepishly.

Sleep Deprivation by Honey_Honey (2.3k)

Dean licked his lips. They tasted like honey. Which was funny, seeing as it was the one part of his breakfast he hadn’t eaten. In fact, Cas had tried the honey instead.

Oh. Oh fuck.

“Did I just kiss Cas?”

And Sam’s descent into uncontrollable laughter was an answer enough.

Walk Through Fire For You by purple_charlie (2.3k)

Boyfriend.

The word still feels foreign in Dean’s mouth, still brings back echoes of John Winchester’s thinly-veiled (if even that) homophobia. "Man up, don’t be a sissy, I didn’t raise a fairy". It’s a swollen blister in the back of Dean’s mind, throbbing with pain whenever a stranger’s eyes linger too long on Cas’ hand in his, whenever a waitress double-takes at how close they sit in diner booths.

But here, dirty dancing with Cas in a warehouse full of other queer folks, Dean wants to shout from the rooftops- I’m Dean Winchester, I drive the baddest car in town, I lift heavy things for a living, and this is my boyfriend.

Could Not Return You by tigersinlondon (2.8k)

Dean might have gotten over himself when it comes to sleeping with Cas (in the sex way, not the cuddles-and-snoring way), and even telling him that he loves him, but he’s not ready to do anything crazy like hold his hand in public, or admit aloud that they’re in a relationship in front of Sam, or God forbid, actually share a room, a bed, a living space with Cas.

Funny Bone by PallasPerilous (4.9k)

It wasn’t even a particularly creepy skeleton; it was in kind of a “just chillin’” pose on the floor. One ankle was still locked up in a heavy iron cuff, at the end of a short chain leading back to the wall. Snoresville, as dead stuff goes; Dean’s seen worse at Disneyland.

It was the skeleton’s comment about Dean’s ass that really livened things up.

Compromise by tiamatv (7.5k)

It wasn't uncommon for Dean to find himself tracking down an ex-angel in their underground home in the middle of the night, because Cas got nightmares. Ten years ago, though, if anyone had told Dean this would become a semi-regular occurrence in his life, he’d probably have laughed so hard, his beer would have come out of his nose.

Crazy Hex Girlfriend by whichstiel (10k)

Dean and Castiel infiltrate an extravagant couples-only Halloween party at the invitation of the party’s host who has been receiving mysterious threats. They patrol the party for hex bags and dark altars, interview suspects, and Dean happily scores a lot of free food. He just wishes he could score with Cas.

How Many Slams In An Old Screen Door? [podfic] by Tenoko1 (15k/2hr podfic)

In which Castiel is a theatre major terrible at first impressions; Dean is a set designer who likes Cas anyway; and the most chaotic production of Les Miserables in history somehow manages to go off without a hitch. Or, just as you should never give a moose a muffin (because he'll want some jam to go with it), you should never give a blank check to a university theatre department. [podfic version]

The Cabin on the Lake by DeanRH (22k)

The Winchester brothers are long lost to history. The angel keeps the vigil, haunted by the shadows of his regrets.

Among other things.

this post is getting way too long so I'm gonna start a second one now!! hopefully you can enjoy these lesser known fics in the meantime :)

#destiel #supernatural #spn #fic recs #lesser known #lina lore #castiel #dean winchester

[ipromiseimawriter]

WIP TITLE GAME

RULES: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Tagged by @zahnie - thank you omg!!

From most recently worked on to least (roughly): (I tend to be pretty literal with these for the most part, if they don't already have a title)

destiel fix it fic - draft 2: is what it says on the tin. I will get to chipping at the end of this godforsaken series, so hELP ME. I do have a fancy lil summary though (this could get edited later but y'know!!):

“What are you doing? Dean, no–!” “You asked me to stop you. So I’m stopping you.” ( As promised, the Empty came for Castiel when his soul called. When it sang a happiness so profound that nothing else could possibly contain it. But Dean wasn’t ready to let go – and if you were to ask him, he’d swear he had failed Cas one too many times. So when the time came, he sank right down with him. )  Chuck could’ve called it, really. But there’s no biblical preparation for their journey through the Empty. It’s all up to them, now, while Sam and Jack (and friends) race to undo Chuck’s damage to the world. Alternating POV. 15x18 CODA/Fix-It Fic for end of 15x18/15x19 & beyond [15x20 who is she lmao]

destiel theatre bitches AU: an incredibly self-indulgent AU where Dean and Castiel are professors for a theatre department at a (made-up) small liberal arts school somewhere in Kansas. Cas is a new arrival to the department who's making waves (and suggesting some batshit shows for production), Dean's the gruff and well-loved scene shop head/tech professor who doesn't like his toes getting stepped on (jk yes he does), and they're gonna be soooo normal about it (me when i lie). nearly everyone and their mom is in this AU. we have fun here

Welcome to Purgatory: an original work (longform)! a story inspired by my time interacting with SPN/with other horror-fantasy adjacent medias, some characters I've had for 1000 years, and just - fucking around and finding out. I def tried to NaNoWriMo it before, to no such luck, so I just chip at it on my own time. I've got a running tag for it if you're ever interested! (old summary)

Jules Herrick went missing without a trace in the early nineties, and his hunting partner, Simon Villanova, never saw him again. We jump ahead about twenty-five years and realize why he should’ve stayed missing. Victor and Amelia are two childhood friends separated by time and responsibility, reuniting for what should be a normal road trip under less fortunate circumstances - the death of a mutual friend. However, the trip is quickly derailed by a strange pursuer that sends them on the run, and into action.  The people who catch up with them to help are not what they expect. The lives their families have led were kept from the two for safety. But between a rogue demon, its lost hellhound, and a secret organization hunting down the missing man and his cohorts, one question must be asked: What does Jules Herrick want with the end of the world, as they know it?

go catch a sunset (stanford-era dean/the outsiders bullshit): a Stanford-era Dean fic (which has 2 chapters up!) that I sort of use as my lil swimming pool for figuring ideas out? Mostly just speculation and big character thoughts on that very vulnerable time. I'm v much looking forward to introducing both Bobby and Cassie soon, getting some Winchester drama, and picking at those good backstory characters.

mama barracuda (WIP title - eldritch horror type shit): an original work (short story). "There's a monster in the woods, just off the beaten path from Hope's home. She isn't the first to be trapped into position of Keeper for the Barracuda of the Backwoods, but she is the first - in a very long time - to truly understand her. They call her Mama." So essentially - monster collects teeth for her own rotting mouth. Sisyphean effort on the Keeper's part. Symbiotic parasite/mother-daughter type shit. LOTS TO UNPACK.

honorable mention: a bunch of plays and other lil bits that would take me too long to describe <333

tagging: @subtlefires, @disabled-dean , @butchabouttown, @luckshiptoshore , and anyone who wants to play! (this includes all my friends who may see this and go "hey i have wips". give it to me. i want to see it)

#tag game #writing stuff #original work #fanfic #elliot rambles #tagged: zahnie #supernatural #welcome to purgatory

[crackers4jenn]

So, @dollsome-does-tumblr did this – she took writing prompts and, instead of filling them anew, used her existing stories – and I have to admit, it looked fun. And it was.

hug – here’s a map, here’s a shovel, here’s my achilles heel (Supernatural, Dean/Cas) – Post-15x19. Turns out, Dean doesn't have to ask to get Cas back.

crown – Alternate Energy (the key to a brighter tomorrow) (Community, Jeff/Annie) – The obligatory Jeff-and-Annie continuation of this truthy moment from 2.09.

repulsed – Out of my Mind (The Office, Dwight and Pam) – Dwight has an usual and unprofessional dream about Pam. (Takes place in season 3.)

blood – lights down low (Supernatural, Dean/Cas) – When Dean comes to, it’s with a fuzzy, head-pounding disorientation. He’s on his back, on the ground, that much he immediately knows, where there’s an overgrown lawn cushioning what must’ve been one hell of a landing. (Or, my excuse to do a canon-compliant Dean/Cas rom-com.)

flower – sink (Supernatural, Dean/Cas) – “Where to?” A 9.06 coda.

clothing – resetting the feminist movement (Community) – “Let me get this straight. You dressed like Britney Spears, just to… drive home a point Tyra Banks already teaches us every episode of her hit show, The Tyra Banks Show?”

god – Filming Jesus (Community/Supernatural crossover) – God is not here, Dean. (Or, Jeff and Annie meet Dean and Castiel. Set during Community s3 and SPN s5.)

dance – Wedding Guy (Supernatural, Dean/Cas) – “I’m Castiel. I wanted to let you know I’ve been noticing you all night, and I wanted to leave this with you, before I left.” (aka Cas slips Dean his number at a wedding, and a friendship/relationship takes off from there.)

music – Pardner in Crime (New Girl, Jess/Schmidt) – It’s Valentine’s Day, and Jess lands herself a wingman. Who is Schmidt.

magic – something wicked (Good Mythical Morning, Rhett/Link) – “Why’s it always gotta be witches.”

kiss – 35 yrs time (Good Mythical Morning, Rhett/Link) – It takes a little while for Rhett and Link to figure things out, but eventually they get on the same page.

ending – keep me as your finish line (Stranger Things, Steve/Nancy) – So badly she wants to lie to herself and pretend she doesn’t know where this conversation, this confession, is coming from, like they haven’t been building up to it since the night Steve leapt headfirst into Lover’s Lake. The symbolism of that, by the way, isn’t lost on her.

#destiel #stancy #jeff/annie #rhink #fanfic

[woulddieforgabriel]

Okay but what if Cas came back after 15x19 and he just. Didn't remember anything. He knows the Empty took him, but he has absolutely no idea why — or how, for that matter. How could he possibly have found true happiness in the midst of the worst apocalypse they'd ever faced? The fuck is Dean supposed to do now?

#supernatural #spn #destiel #dean winchester #castiel #deancas #casdean #15x18 #15x18 despair #spn 15x18 #15x18 coda #15x19 coda

[writtenmemxries]

Teddy bears and unspoken words

I couldn’t resist and I ended up writing this little fic inspired by @good-things-do-happen-dean‘s tags under this post. I hope you all don’t mind! As always, let me know what you think, I hope you like it. :)

[1.1k words]

Ever since Jack left to become one with nature, or whatever that kid was doing in his new role as God, Sam often found himself wandering around his room. It had been difficult at first, letting Jack go like that, let him be in the rain, the trees, the leaves, and all that New Age bullshit that neither Sam nor Dean really understood. But he was God now, capital G, and that was his will. It's not like they could exactly argue with him. And as sad as it was not to have him with them anymore, they had to keep living and accept the weight of their losses.

That night though, without even knowing why, Dean felt the need to enter that room, too. It wasn't the first night he and Sam spent alone in the bunker, and while he wasn't used to the silence and the absence of the boy's energetic blue eyes yet, he had somehow managed to find a way to distract himself. Beer, alcohol... nothing new, nothing he hadn't already dealt with.

This time it's different, said a voice in his head as he swallowed the last sip of his sixth beer.

Dean closed his eyes, letting the bitter taste of it wash away the anguish and empty feeling he knew he couldn't fill.

It wasn't just Jack, no. Of course not. It was Castiel. It was always Castiel. It was always the fallen angel's fault, with his stupid trenchcoat, his stupid big blue eyes and black hair that weren't really his, the stupid tie he hadn't yet learned to tie properly, his stupid chapped lips that somehow never bothered him.

He was the problem. And it was Dean. It was Dean, unable to react, to speak, to do anything that wasn't just staring, in front of the immensity of the words Castiel had addressed to him minutes before... leaving. Forever.

Dean was the problem, along with the loneliness he felt, despite Sam being fine and next to him everyday, with Eileen, happy together, cheerful, finally free. It was the emptiness he couldn't fill, the words he hadn't been able to utter that weighed in his stomach, preventing him from eating but not from consuming more alcohol than it was necessary, or recommended for that matter.

And it was the words he had wanted to hear for years, that he had eventually heard and would have wanted to hear again, and again, and again, until the end of time, until his death, and even after that, in Heaven, forever enveloped by the sincerity of Castiel's gaze, the depth of his eyes and the sweetness of his speech.

He got up to get another beer, the seventh of the night, and with wobbly steps he walked to his bedroom, where he knew he still had four full bottles of warm and disgusting beer, able to let the unspoken words sink even further, to drown them in alcohol, to allow them to be forgotten. But they never were, because they lived inside him, they burned on his lips, they were fire behind his sternum, from which it was impossible to break free.

And when he passed Jack's room in the corridor and saw the half-open door, mindful of Sam's last visit, Dean entered without thinking, closing the door behind him.

He was immediately seized by a wave of nostalgia. Looking around, all he saw were memories. Things Cas had bought for Jack, when he used to ask Dean to accompany him to the mall, forcing him to help him choose a gift. He felt a pang in his heart at the memory of all the times when, snorting, he had agreed, keeping a grumpy face for most of the day to hide how much those moments actually warmed his heart. He would do anything to have that again now, he thought sadly, biting his lip.

He recognised almost every item in the room, from the stuffed animals Cas got at Hot Topic, to the books Sam had given him. Finally, his gaze fell on a teddy bear lying on the pillow. He snorted a laugh when, taking it in his hands, he realised he was dressed as an angel. Two white wings protruded from his back, and he had a golden halo on his head.

He doesn't have a harp, Dean noticed with a smirk, and immediately Castiel's voice rang in his head. “I don't have a harp, Dean.”

He turned the bear over in his hands and couldn't help but note that its fur was the same colour as Castiel's trenchcoat. He stroked the soft fur and for a moment he imagined he was running his fingers through the angel's hair, ruffling it gently. Castiel would playfully snort and Dean would laugh. Or maybe he would look at him with an expression so fond it would make his heart ache.

It aches anyway, he thought as he sat on the bed.

He spotted the logo on the bear's left paw and, frowning, he wondered on what occasion Castiel had gone to a build-a-bear shop, because yeah, that was definitely a gift from Castiel.

He pressed its paw, expecting to hear one of the pre-recorded sounds one could choose at the shop. Instead, the only thing he heard was Castiel's voice.

“What am I supposed to... oh. Hi. I love you.”

Dean looked dumbfounded at the bear, losing himself in its black, expressionless eyes.

“What am I supposed to... oh. Hi. I love you.”

“What am I supposed to... oh. Hi. I love you.”

“What am I supposed to... oh. Hi. I love you.”

A sob. He bit his lip until it started bleeding, trying to cover the pain with more pain, physical, palpable. But as physical and palpable were the tears on his cheeks, which didn't seem to stop. He let out another sob.

“What am I supposed to... oh. Hi. I love you,” Castiel's voice said again, as Dean frantically continued to press the bear's paw.

“I love you, too. Please Cas, I love you too. I love you. I love you so fucking much, god-”

His head throbbed painfully, but it was nothing compared to the despair that cloaked his heart. He closed his eyes and all he could see was the black goo that had enveloped Castiel. It engulfed his heart, clouded his vision, switched off his brain. He found himself fumbling, trying to breathe, but his lungs were filled with blackness, and it gushed and gushed until it swallowed him completely, carrying him away.

“What am I supposed to... oh. Hi. I love you.”

He opened his eyes, bright green in the dark. He clenched his jaw, shaking his head slightly, and the sobs soon turned into a tired, sad laugh, a desperate plea for help, perhaps to God- Jack himself.

“Dumb son of a bitch,” he finally whispered, and it sounded like a loving, heart-wrenched eulogy he had already spoken before.

· tag list under the cut, ask to be added or removed ·

@rambleoncas @chaoticdean @winchester-novak @randomblabbling @seffersonjtarship @professorerudite @queen-rowenas @sana-drinks-isklar @tasersloth @beforejuko @superduckbatrebel @llamasdumpsterfire @marichankitty

#i have a lot of free time and i keep writing sad things pls somebody stop me #i already have another idea in mind oH GOD- #destiel #deancas #destiel fic #destiel fanfic #destiel ficlet #destiel oneshot #deancas fic #deancas fanfic #deancas ficlet #deancas oneshot #spn 15x19 #15x19 coda #sort of #spn fic #jack kline #dean winchester #sometimes I write

[contemplativepancakes]

15x19 coda: stripped of everything holy

“Hey, kid,” Dean calls, plunking his bottle of whiskey down on the table. Some sloshes out the sides, and Dean mourns the loss. “Come here.”

Jack looks over at him from where he’s hunched over a book, flipping through the pages just as quickly as Cas used to. Dean’s mouth is dry, so he takes another swig. 

Dean pulls out his pocket knife from his back pocket, trying and failing miserably to not think of Cas’s warm fingers on his. He flicks it open and hands it to Jack, tapping on the scarred table top. “About time we put you on the family tree, right?”

Jack stares at him for a long moment. “Are you sure?”

And yeah, Dean deserves that, he’s never exactly been the greatest parental figure to Jack, maybe even more of a trainwreck than John ever was, and that’s really saying something. “I’m sure,” he says gruffly. 

Jack sinks down in the chair across from him, contemplating. He puts the tip to the table and rests it there. 

“The whole point is to scratch it; you’re gonna have to press a little bit harder than that.”

Jack glances up at him. “Why isn’t Cas’s name here?”

That’s a damn good question, Dean thinks. It’s because he was too much of a fucking coward. Too much of a coward to even tell Cas he loved him back, much less ask him to stay or do something like asking him to carve his initials into the table. 

He had given Cas a mixtape, for fuck’s sake, and he tried to give it back! Dean’s still having trouble reconciling everything Cas said with the past ten years of his life. It seems like, maybe, if he thinks about it hard enough, he can see that Cas returned his feelings, but he still can’t believe Cas said all those things. He’s bullshit all the way through, but Cas… Cas hadn’t thought so. 

Dean clears his throat. “We’ll add his next, huh?”

Jack nods, looking pleased, and focuses his attention on the table. The scritch of the knife makes Dean shudder, the sound scraping against his raw nerves. He’s felt like an exposed wire ever since Cas—

He’s tired. 

Finally, Jack finishes with his name and looks expectantly at Dean. “Good job, kid. Here, let me see that.”

Jack obediently gives him the knife and Dean sets it to the table. He pokes out his tongue, trying to think of the best possible placement. 

In the end, his hands are so shaky with the combination of the alcohol, the lack of sleep, the everything, he gives the knife back to Jack and lets him do it. 

When Jack grins up at Dean, he returns the smile, small but sure. 

Jack eventually drifts away from the table, leaving Dean to rub his fingers over the jagged gash of Cas’s name in the table. Castiel, Jack had written. He tries not to think too hard about the way he hasn’t said Castiel in years, only Cas, stripping Cas of everything holy and everything that he used to be. He doesn’t know why Cas let him. 

For Cas to be truly happy just telling Dean he loves him—what a fucking a joke. It figures. Dean’s not enough to make anyone happy by himself. The thought of him, maybe. But everyone leaves, soon enough. No one’s ever stuck around for him, and he doesn’t expect that to start now.  

-

Dean looks at Jack’s retreating back with resignation. He had hoped Jack would go back with them to the bunker, but he can’t say he’s surprised. It only makes sense. Dean looks over at Sam. Soon, he’s going to run off to Eileen, and then Dean… 

Dean’s not sure. 

He’s so tired. 

Sam tilts his phone towards Dean, showing him an incoming call, and Dean nods at him to take it. Dean slides into Baby and rubs his hands over the wheel, trying to resist the urge to hunch into himself. 

He should be happy. Chuck is gone, Jack is God, or something like it, and Sam is right here. 

Fuck, why can’t he just be happy?

-

He drops Sam off just outside of Junction City to meet Eileen, and Dean tries not to feel alone. Sam squints at him in worry, and Dean gives him what he hopes is a reassuring grin. “Go get her, lover boy. Just don’t forgot about me, all right?”

Sam squeezes his arm. “We’re gonna get him back. We are, Dean. I know it.”

Dean’s not so sure, but he appreciates the sentiment. Jack was the only chance of bringing Cas back, and Dean knows a little something about hands off Gods. He’s not going to hold his breath. 

Dean somehow makes it back to the bunker and stumbles inside, feeling like he could sleep for a year. He finds himself drifting to Cas’s bedroom, not that it ever truly felt like his. The bed is just as immaculate as it’s ever been, and nothing’s out of place. Dean idly tugs open the nightstand, and his eyes widen as he notices what’s inside. It’s the mixtape, the stupid fucking mixtape he agonized for days over, that had meant everything at the time. 

Dean shakes his head and wishes he’d been a little braver. 

Dean stops by his room to grab his gun cleaning kit and then settles in the library. He pulls out his pistol and removes the clip, making sure the safety’s on before he pulls out his bore snake and runs it through the barrel a few times. He puts a few drops of oil onto a soft rag before lovingly polishing the handle, working his way back to the trigger. He pauses and idly flicks the safety back off. 

He sets the gun down and takes a deep breath. He leaves it there and walks away, still feeling the cool metal on his skin. He thinks about going to the target range, but he’s not sure if that’s a good idea right now. He told Sam not to forget about him. He wouldn’t want the memories to be tainted. 

Like his are of Cas. 

Fuck. 

Dean putters around the bunker. He’s not sure what to do now. There’s no big bad that he needs to hunt, and there’s none of his family here for him to take care of. 

He’s adrift. 

Dean stares at the gun again before shaking his head. 

He’s getting ready to head to the Dean Cave to veg out on Dr. Sexy when the bunker door swings open. Dean’s prepared for it to be Sam, or any number of villains here to finish him off, and that’d be fine, but what he’s not prepared to see is “—Cas? Is it really you? How?”

“I’m… not sure. Jack and Amara showed up in the empty; something about Amara trying again? Dean, I—”

He’s cut off by Dean racing forward and tackling him, pressing Cas against the wall, kissing him and trying to convey everything he wants to say. When he pulls away, Cas presses his fingertips to his lips in wonder. 

“Cas, you’re such a fucking idiot. I can’t believe you! The one thing you wanted but you couldn’t have? It never occurred to you to check in with me about that?”

Cas gapes at him. 

Dean loves him? That’s...inconceivable. Cas feels a little cheated now that he knows he should have at least went in for a kiss before the empty took him.

“How long?” Cas finally says. 

Dean kisses him again before pulling away, clinging to Cas, his fingers leaving pink marks. “Too damn long.”

tagging! let me know if you’d like to be added or removed:

 @urbankat82 @that-one-fandom-chick @youcancallmeanet @no-frigging-idea @nineteensevetyfour @1stborneve @good-things-do-happen-dean @i-know-like-four-things @darcydelaney @destiel-is--real @realrookie1012 @nickelkit @tearsofgrace @thefourthheadofcerberus

#supernatural #destiel #spn spoilers #coda #15x19 #spn 15x19 #15x19 coda #fix it #dean winchester #castiel #jack kline

[eggcessive]

Something Like a Character Study in Repression

re: despair (or distant axis)

15x19 coda

there’s a pattern to the way the world is tearing up i think it’s happening to me

When Dean's phone vibrates in his pocket, he feels it ringing all the way through his ribcage. Before looking at the caller ID, he knows who it is, clenches his teeth and takes a steadying breath. He stops the car to step outside, away from Sam's curious gaze. Dean knows that, this time, it's not the devil on the line. He knows that this time, everything is on the line.

"Cas."

A shuddering intake of air has Dean's skin crawling. "Dean."

Read on Ao3

#avert your eyes im being embarrassing #deancas #deancas fic #15x19 coda #supernatural 15x19 #my fic

[riversongg]

Here With Me

Summary: What if Dean had never died? What if Eileen had come back? What if Sam and Dean had been allowed to visit their loved ones and grieve the ones they lost? What if they had saved Cas from the empty? What if they got to live their happily ever after? Chapter 1: exile Word Count: 1757 Read on AO3

The first day after Chuck is defeated is a good one. They’re free. They’re finally free. For the first time in years Sam feels like he can finally breathe. That first day they take some time for themselves. They sleep. A lot. They eat, drink some beer. They go for a drive and feel the breeze on their skin. Sam cries a bit too, the tears of relief escaping after holding in so much tension for so long. There had always been one thing after another. Another problem, another monster, another evil deity trying to take over the world.

So yes, for that first day, they exist and do nothing else.

On the second day they have work to do. First, Sam calls Eileen. They’d texted a whole bunch already, Sam ecstatic beyond belief that she was back, but she understood that he needed time, time to realise that everything was okay, that this new reality wasn’t going to be ripped from under him, before reaching out. But one day without seeing each other is more than enough time before they are talking face to face, Sam breaking down in sobs at only eight in the morning. She’s back.

The air feels cleaner, the weight on Sam’s shoulders lightened. It’s even easier to breathe than before. He longs to reach out and hold her in his arms, but there will be time for that. They have all the time in the world.

Day three finds them on the road. Dean driving, windows down, head rocking to the Zeppelin he has turned right the way up. Sam’s knee keeps bouncing with anticipation. Dean tells him to “Cut it out, man” a few teams before he gives up, allowing Sam this moment of excitement.

They pull over for gas around noon and that’s when Dean finds the dog. Miracle, he had called him back before the end of Chuck. Sam remembers seeing the dog when Jack brought everyone back, but seeing him again, for the third time in only a few days, it’s evident to the brothers that this dog is meant to be theirs. Miracle sits between the two of them, peering through the front window of the Impala, tongue lolling out of his mouth as they draw nearer to Eileen’s.

When Sam and Eileen reunite, Dean and Miracle wait in the car. There’s a lot of crying as Sam scoops her into his arms, lifting her up and squeezing tight. He takes in her scent, never wanting to forget the way it feels when she is with him. There’s lots of kissing too, but mostly they’re just happy to hold each other.

The weight lifts a little more, every moment he’s with her he’s a little more free.

They arrive at Jody’s the next day. As the three of them, and Miracle, pull up to the house they are greeted with love and warmth. Sam’s heart swells seeing his family alive and well. Claire has her arm around Kaia’s shoulders, Kaia giving them a little wave as they get out of the car. Patience and Alex give them bright smiles and Jody runs up to hug the two of them. When she gets to Dean Sam sees not only that she squeezes extra tight, but Dean holds onto her for a little longer too, almost reluctant to leave the hug. Donna is there too and she’s the first one to hug Eileen. She speaks to her in the little sign language she knows and Sam notices Eileen light up, her whole body becoming a little less tense.

As they make their way inside, Dean lingers behind. Sam turns to call him in but notices the sadness in his smile. Sam tells Eileen and the rest of the girls to go on in without them. Eileen smiles, understanding.

Sam goes back to his brother at the curb, patting Dean’s shoulder.

“They should be here, man,” his brother tells him, his voice quiet and tight. Sam sighs. He still doesn’t know what happened when the Empty took Cas; Dean won’t talk about that day. As for Jack? Sam knows he’s okay, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less that he will never be able to hug the kid again, never again hear his laugh or see his face light up in a smile.

“I miss them.” And that’s all there is. There’s peace, and there’s pain, and there’s a part of Sam’s family that will always be gone, but he knows more than anyone that there’s always a way to move on and be content, knowing that the pain will always be there, but one day it won’t feel so big.

They stay like that for a few moments, thinking about the ones they lost, before Sam makes his way into the house, ready to exist in the joy and laughter these wonderful women have to offer.

At some point Claire disappears, and she shows up a few hours later with an exhausted looking Dean. Cas may have been Sam’s best friend, but Claire and Dean had a connection to Cas like no one else. It was good that they talked, Sam thought. Maybe it would help them both say goodbye, knowing that they’re not so alone in their grief.

They stay at Jody’s for two days before they decide to head home to the bunker. Of course, they take a couple of detours, visiting Charlie and Garth and a few other hunter connections on the way. It’s nice spending time with their friends without the constant threat of danger around every corner. Having fun should not be a novelty, but going to the park with Garth’s kids, playing arcade games with Charlie, these are the things Sam has been missing, the things he didn’t know that he needed.

When they get back to the bunker, things go back to normal. Well, as normal as can be. Eileen stays with them for a while, her and Sam spending lots of time in his room. Dean takes Miracle on lots of walks and one day even takes Sam to a nearby lake that he likes. It has become a new favourite spot for the two of them, Dean often spending hours near the water, Miracle by his side.

Two weeks in, Dean starts eating less. It takes Sam another week to notice. Eileen has moved home by this point, though they video chat every day. Sam plans on visiting her in a week or so, but one day he notices that Miracle is asking for his daily walk and Dean is nowhere to be seen. Sam finds him in the garage, passed out in the front of the Impala, an empty bottle of whisky at his side.

He carries Dean to his bed that night, his brother too drunk to wake up as Sam hastily pulls him out of the car and into his arms, bridal style. He knows Dean would knock him senseless if he knew, but Sam didn’t care. They never talk about it. Dean wakes up the next morning, chugs a bottle of aspirin thinking Sam wouldn’t notice and gets on with his day.

A slice of toast.

A walk around the lake with Miracle.

A beer before lunch.

Not actually eating lunch and heading straight into research looking for a case.

Not finding anything.

Another bottle of whisky.

Another night in the Impala.

Sam knows then that he can’t leave Dean. He starts cooking, like, really cooking. Dean has always been the one with the culinary skills, so it takes Sam a few attempts to actually make a half decent burger, but day by day he pushes a sandwich, a salad, a bowl of cereal towards Dean and doesn’t leave him alone until his plate is completely empty.

Six weeks after Chuck, Dean stops speaking. He stops walking Miracle, stops watching movies. He eats because Sam forces him, drinks because he wants to. He does research, for what Sam doesn’t know, and sits and stares as though waiting for something to appear. Sam realises now that he had been foolish to believe that everything would be okay. Life is never that simple for the Winchesters.

Eileen decides to visit one weekend after Sam explains that he’s worried about leaving Dean alone. They’re just coming in from a date, Sam heading to the kitchen to get them some drinks when he hears it. Crying. No, sobbing. Huge, gut-wrenching sobs that ricochet throughout the bunker. Sam freezes. He has never, never, heard Dean cry like this. This is something so raw that Sam feels like he’s intruding. This isn’t something anyone should ever have to endure.

He knew Dean was not okay, but this? Sam could never have imagined to hear something like this coming from his brother, broken or not.

He makes a decision on instinct, and rushes down the hallway towards Dean’s room. The door is open and he sees Dean rocking back and forth on his bed, a pillow held tight to his face. For a second Sam thinks the crying has stopped, but then Dean lets out an abominable scream, the hair on Sam’s arms standing alert.

Sam has experience Hell and then some, but this is the worst thing he has ever heard.

He rushes forwards and reaches towards Dean. Dean jumps at Sam’s touch and starts to pull away when he realises he has been caught, but Sam climbs onto the bed behind him and pulls him tight.

“Shh,” Sam says, arms around his brother, Dean burying his face into Sam’s chest. “Let it out, Dean. Let it out.” And he does. Sam doesn’t know how long they sit there but soon Dean’s sobbing settles into steady tears and Eileen appears at Dean’s doorway, not wanting to invade.

“Whatever it is Dean, we will fix it. We will find you some help.” He strokes Dean’s back to the rhythm of his breathing, keeping him calm.

“This is the one thing that can’t be fixed,” Dean mumbles into Sam so quietly Sam barely heard him.

“What is, Dean?” he asks softly. “What can’t be fixed?”

“He’s gone,” Dean says, his voice breaking. “Cas is gone and he’s never coming back.” Dean takes in a shaky breath and holds it. Sam is afraid of what might happen when he lets it out.

It’s there, in Dean’s room, his big brother helpless in arms, the love of his life at the door that he decides it: one way or another, he’s getting Castiel back.

Read on AO3

#my writing #wizardinpyjamas #mine #deancas #destiel #fic #destiel fic #15x19 #15x19 coda #fix it fic #fix it #finale fix it #kind of #destiel fanfic #destiel fan fic #fanfic #fan fiction #fanfiction #fic; here with me

[ruinedsam]

Sam & Lucifer Fic Rec

Includes both fics in which Sam and Lucifer interact in some way and fics about Sam dealing with his trauma from Lucifer/the cage. Mostly oneshots, because that's what I tend to read.

acknowledge the truth by lesbianbookworm: 13x21 episode tag

A Book of Relevations by InHisImage: post S14, Sam thinks about Lucifer.

a contrario by laertez: 13x12 episode tag, Sam & trauma

acta sanctorum by laertez: 11x10/11x11 episode tag, Sam & trauma

ad nauseum by laertez: 12x01/12x02 episode tag, Sam & trauma

Aint't No Mountain High Enough by Lise: S5 CD, Sam angst, brother angst, Lucifer being a creep

all roads by sp8ce: post S7 CD

Always By Your Side by threadofgrace (phoenix_and_the_ash): S7 CD, as Sam is haunted by Hallucifer and struggling to keep it together, a creepy cat who may or may not be just a cat starts to follow Sam and Dean

A Matter of Faith by katsidhe: 11x22 coda, Sam dealing with Lucifer being in the bunker

can’t shake this little feeling by monsterq: S7, Hallucifer fic, wincest

Carnivorous by Lise: S7, Hallucifer fic, wincest

Chosen Portrait by sp8ce: 12x07 CD, Sam and Lucifer's confrontation goes very different than in canon

Descend Together by Lise: 7x15 coda, Hallucifer fic

Everything Flows, Nothing Remains by Lise: S7, Hallucifer fic | Sam thinks Dean is dead and Hallucifer is not helping

Forever and Always by psquare: S7, Hallucifer fic

Gethsemane Moment by katsidhe: episode tag 15x19, Sam and Lucifer have a talk

Graveyard Dirt by a_good_soldier: post 13x21, Sam finds out Luicfer left something behind when he revived him

Half Sick of Shadows by Lise: mindfuck

Hallucination by Lif61 (UltimateFandomTrash): S7, Hallucifer fic

Isolation by CaptainShade: cage fic

Knowing Your Place (and other small tragedies) by artbabe: S11, Casifer fucking with Sam

i think i am shattered, lover; i think i am broken, brother by occasionally_always: episode tag 11x14, rewrite of the Casifer touching Sam's soul scene, POV Sam

instrument by sp8ce: Sam & trauma

It's A River (But Not in Egypt) by Lise: S7, Hallucifer fic

i will drink your cup of poison by redskyatmorning: late S11, Lucifer is in the bunker and he has a proposition for Sam

kiss my eyes and lay me to leep by Lise: mindfuck

Kiss The Skin That Crawls From You by lesbianbookworm: 15x09 CD, Chuck thinks making Sam relive some memories of the cage will make him give up

Let's Get Biblicial by lettered: episode tag 5x22, Sam & Lucifer as Sam is possessed

Litany in Which Certain Things Are Crossed Out by lesbianbookworm: episode tag 11x22, Sam dealing with Lucifer being in the bunker

Look'd Up in Perfect Silence at the Stars by Min Daae (Lise): S7, Hallucifer fic

love on my fingers by Trojie: 11x09 coda, Lucifer gives Sam a reminder of their time in the cage

lucifer spoke thus by hellsreluctantheir: late S11, Lucifer talks Sam down from a panic attack

outwardly respectable by sheepishlion: S7, Hallucifer fic | Sam goes camping and Hallucifer tags along

Ramsey by DragonflyonBreak: episode tag 12x15, Lucifer is not pleased Sam killed his dog

Say a Prayer for Recognition by Lise: cage fic

Strawberry Gashes by Leata: mindfuck

Suffering by Min Daae (Lise): S6 CD, Sam's wall is breaking and Cas has a solution of sorts, Sam & trauma

The Descent by threadofgrace (phoenix_and_the_ash): 5x22 coda

the frames on the wall (are cooked and empty) by Lise: S7, Sam and Dean talk about Hallucifer

The Last Word by katsidhe: 13x23 rewrite, Sam & Lucifer & Jack

the long walk by katsidhe: episode tag 13x21, Sam and Lucifer on their way to the camp

The Sky is Darkening Like a Stain by Lise: cage fic

Throes of Perdition by monicawoe: cage fic

Triptych by monsterq: Sam & trauma: Sam and Lucifer in the cage, Sam all alone post 7x23, Sam and Dean in heaven post 15x20 | wincest in 3rd chapter

Unreal by ameliacareful: post 11x21, Sam dealing with Lucifer being in the bunker

We Are the Two by Lise:post S7 CD, Sam's hallucinations reappear (Hallucifer + appearances from the other inhabitants of the cage)

Written in Reverse by rainbowbetty: Sam & trauma, (post) S7

#sam and lucifer #fic rec #😈 #mine

[dykeninthdoctor]

(black or white, we're vivid color. after a while it all runs together.) our stained glass means nothing without light. 

The town they stop in has a church. 

It always comes down to a church, doesn't it, with them?

It’s white, like they always are in these small towns, and Dean doesn’t know why that hurts, but then he remembers the inky black of the Empty, the white glow of Cas’s grace, and he slams on the brakes just before the light turns from yellow to red.  He can feel Sam’s eyes on him, but he keeps his on the cross that almost seems like it’s floating above the steeple, takes a breath in, tries to keep it from shuddering, fails. 

The light turns green, and Dean wishes it was blue. 

He turns the corner into the Gas-N-Sip, his grip on the wheel tight enough that he feels the rubber indents forming marks against his palm, red lines that will still be there when he lets go. He tries to stop himself from grasping harder.

“You fill the tank, I’ll get somethin’ to eat?” 

Sam nods, and Dean doesn’t have to turn to look at him to know that his brother’s brow is furrowed, lips pursed, like he’s trying not to say anything, head tilted slightly to the side—

Dean gets out of the car. 

The door to the Gas-N-Sip lets out a programmed bell sound as he walks in—artificial—and the employee at the register barely looks up, a blue vest the only thing Dean pays attention to before he heads straight towards the back, where he knows there’s another door that lets out into a parking lot. It’s all cracked pavement and shattered glass bottles, a half-empty Dumpster that’s balanced precariously on three of its four wheels, folded cardboard boxes wrinkled from the light misting of rain that Dean feels against his cheeks, messy graffiti in bright blue paint on one wall that looks almost like a sigil if he stares at it for too long—

The church is across the street. 

It feels like it takes hours to cross it. 

All three doors are locked, predictably, which he should’ve expected when he came across the boards across half the windows, and only one isn’t dead-bolted, luckily the one on the opposite side from Sam, who’s leaning against Baby and checking his phone when Dean glances over. He’s still got time. 

It’s not until it takes him four tries to pick the lock that Dean realizes his hands are shaking, the metal picks rattling against the keyhole loud enough that it’s hard for him to hear his own breathing, already so faint that the sound of the wind swallows it with one gust. A raindrop lands on his hand, and he finally hears the pins click open, the doorknob turning easily when he tries it this time. He doesn’t bother pulling out the kit from his jacket to put his pins away, barely remembers getting it out in the first place, just shoves them into the back pocket of his jeans to get them out of his mind, to get everything out of his mind but one thing—

The darkness inside the church is suffocating. A stained glass window above the pulpit is the only source of light, its colors dimmed with the gray light from outside, and Dean hears himself huff in what he’s trying to make amusement, what should be amusement, but can only be sardonic, before he realizes it. 

There’s a creaking sound when he sits down in the first pew his hand brushes, and that too gets a huff, some type of forced humor, because he has to find it somewhere, doesn’t he? 

The noises feel thunderous in the empty room. 

And when Dean starts to speak, it’s a hurricane; a torrent of words that echo louder than each raindrop on the roof, his bowed head the only shelter from the storm his voice creates. 

“Cas? You got your ears on?” 

The rain gets heavier against the roof. 

“I—I don’t know—I—I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I didn’t think—why would you do that? For me, why would you do that for me? You stupid son of a bitch, how could you think—how could you leave us? No—no. How could you leave me? I don’t—you can’t keep sacrificing yourself to save me, you asshole, I can only get you back so many times. Because I’m getting you back, I’m gonna get you back, man. I’m coming to get you, I always will. But you just—you have to stop pulling this shit. I need you—I want you. I can’t live without you, you fucking—“ 

His voice doesn’t just break, it shatters. Like glass, like ice, frozen water; his words have frozen up, the rain has come to an end, and he doesn’t know what to say anymore, the tears on his cheeks drying up any words he had left. 

When he licks his lips, he tastes salt. 

He raps his knuckles against the bench, clears his throat, forces a word out, any word, because he can’t just leave it there. “Yeah. Yeah. Okay. I’m coming to get you. I’ll see you soon, Cas. And I—I’ll tell you when I see you.” 

I love you. 

The words hang in the air. His promise, his declaration, his vow. 

“Wait for me, okay, Cas? I’ve got you. Uh—Castiel.” 

Adding his angel’s name feels like an old habit, like it’s ten years ago again, before the first time he lost Cas, and it almost feels wrong in his mouth; it’s not who Cas is anymore. 

You changed me. 

“Cas,” he whispers. “Cas.” 

It’s all he can say, anymore. 

When he stands up, his eyes find the window. It’s a kaleidoscope of colors, and he can’t make out the design, but he’s drawn to the blue triangles around the edge, of course he is, a geometric pattern that doesn’t hurt like the blue of every sign before; it’s a reminder of his promise, a reminder of his angel, and a reassurance, almost, as the sun breaks through the clouds, and he sees those same triangles reflected on the wall behind him, almost as bright, almost as blue, as Cas’s eyes. 

And Dean lets himself smile through his tears. 

Cas.

#this. got away from me. #it's about the BLUE and the RAIN #i hope y'all like this i vibed so hard writing it ;dfuhgskdg i'm actually really proud of this #please consider reblogging if you liked!!!! #dean winchester #castiel #deancas #spn #supernatural #deancas coda #15x19 coda #15x19 #spn coda #spn 15x19 #[ned fulmer voice] i don't know what to do with my tags! #aven.writing #rambleoncas

[crackers4jenn]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

(inside the cut to spare you)

1. How many works do you have on Ao3? 43. Some of them contain multiple fics, though. I might be pushing 50 if they were all out on their own.

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count? 408,702

3. What fandoms do you write for? On ao3, I've written for: Supernatural, Community, Rhett & Link, The Office, New Girl, Stranger Things. I also wrote a 'characters who were never the slayer' fic with characters from Glee, Parks and Rec, Miranda, himym, etc etc. I orphaned some Rookie Blue fics that I posted over there just because I got an anon message asking me if I could unlock them from lj.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos? All destiel fics:

sink - "Where to?" A 9.06 coda. (To be fair on this, I think there was a weird ao3 glitch that really skyrocketed the hits.)

Mr. and Mr. Winchester - "No pet names, I popped the question, and you're the girl." (Or, Dean and Castiel: fake-married. Set in a hypothetical s9.)

here's a map, here's a shovel, here's my achilles heel - Post-15x19. Turns out, Dean doesn't have to ask to get Cas back.

a way not steep - Dean's twenty-six and his roommate's a guy who cries during E.T.

wedding guy - "I'm Castiel. I wanted to let you know I've been noticing you all night, and I wanted to leave this with you, before I left." (aka Cas slips Dean his number at a wedding, and a friendship/relationship takes off from there.)

5. Do you respond to comments? Not always, which is v. lame of me. I do try to, but it feels overwhelming to think up different ways to say "thanks for reading" without it coming off as perfunctory because it's my tenth "thanks" in a row.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Hmmm, maybe lights down low. 40k words of time traveling destiel just to bring Dean and Cas back to the purgatory portal where Cas doesn't follow Dean out. But, listen. I was proud of the twist ending.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? sky full of stars, maybe? Rhett and Link boning in a tent, with a sweet lil flashback to end things.

8. Do you get hate on fics? Nah.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Yes. Yes, I do. The kind where they bone.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? Not all that often, but I've written some wild ones. A Supernatural/Community tale where circa s5 Dean and Cas show up to Greendale, lured by Abed's Jesus movie. A himym/Community crossover where Barney enrolled at Greendale to bag some community college hotties. I wrote a Rhett and Link/spn fusion, where they were hunters.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? I haven't.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? I've had people ask. If they ever did anything with that, I never got tagged or it was posted off ao3. Someone did a pod-fic of one of them once, though, that was pretty cool.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? I have, I have. Long ago, @milkshakemicrowave and I were writing a Community fic together. I think I wrote the first chapter, then convinced her to write with me. We bailed after maaaaybe getting into chapter 3? I've also co-written a couple J2 fics with my Cas/Misha/destiel-hating bestie. Under a pseudonym, obvs.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? I mean, I've got lots of those. Depends on the day. But when it comes to reading, it's Dean/Cas hands down. There's an abundance of riches and I'm grateful every day for the free serotonin.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I never posted it to ao3, but I have like 20k words written of a Dean/Cas (of course) fic I started writing between seasons 7 and 8, with Dean and Cas in purgatory before we knew anythinggg about purgatory. I got to the point where I needed to figure out how they were getting out.

16. What are your writing strengths? One of my favorite bits of feedback that I get most often is that I write dialogue how people actually talk, which is nice.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Plot. It's not that I don't have big, plotty ideas, I just don't know how to string plot along in a coherent way. I'm always so impressed by plot-heavy stories that STAY plot-heavy.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I wouldn't personally, but more power to anyone taking on that challenge.

19. First fandom you wrote for? I want to say it was Buffy.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written? It's certainly not the best fic I've ever written, but I recently reread like only a best friend could and liked it enough I've been puttering away at a sequel.

#of course this was heavy on the destiel #i should've figured - it's my most written fandom #self #fic

[woulddieforgabriel]

Okay but concept: it's a week or so after the 15x19 and Sam and Dean are finally sick of this mini vacation they've been taking ever since they defeated God. Sam finds a case, and they pile into the impala for some good old-fashioned monster hunting.

But then Dean sees Cas walking down the sidewalk. He looks like a hot mess. He's covered head-to-toe in dirt and grime, to the point where his trench coat is barely tan anymore. His beard now puts his Purgatory beard to shame. Even the hair on his head seems to be getting longer — and definitely much messier.

Dean slams on the breaks. It's like 2012 all over again. He'd see Cas, he'd stop, and Cas would be gone. Though he does still seem to be there this time...

But then Sam points him out, and Dean realizes he's not crazy and that Cas really is here. They both hop out of the car — Dean doesn't even take the time to turn it off — and run back to see Cas.

Dean freezes. He has no idea what the fuck he's supposed to do in this situation. It's Cas! He's alive! He's a hot mess, but he's alive! And it's so good to see him again. It really is. But with Cas right in front of him, all he can think about is how they left things. He's gone out of his way not to think about what Cas said to him before he made that sacrifice. In his grief, he found it was just easier to forget. But now he has to face it and he has to try to make sense of it, and he doesn't even know where to begin.

Sam gives Cas a bear hug, bombarding him with questions one after another and not even giving Cas the chance to respond. Dean would tell him off if he thought he could.

And then Cas just ??? collapses??? in Sam's arms, and now neither of the Winchesters really know what to do (though they can both agree this takes priority over the case they were about to head off on).

Cas comes to that night, hours after Sam and Dean dragged him into the bunker. They'd laid him down in a spare bed, and though they'd taken turns watching him for the first hour or two, they'd basically decided staring at him wasn't going to wake him up any faster and decided to go about their lives.

They're in the war room when Castiel walks out, holding onto the wall for balance with every step. They jump to their feet to give him a hand — Sam pulls out a chair and Dean helps him over to it — and they get to talking.

Cas has no idea how he came back, but he did; he was dropped right in the middle of Rossville, Kansas, with nothing but the clothes on his back. He didn't have a phone; he didn't have any money; he had nothing.

And, worst of all, he was human. This entire time he was struggling to find his way home, he was dealing with his newfound humanity as well — mainly, the hunger and the thirst that he couldn't afford to satiate. Finding public drinking fountains became almost as important as finding the bunker over the last few days.

But now he's home. Cas came home. That's all Dean can think about — literally. It doesn't even occur to him to get him something to eat and drink until Sam gets up to do it. He's just so busy thinking about the fact that Cas came home.

And now that they're alone, Dean expects Cas to address the elephant in the room: their last conversation. "I love you," he'd said. What the fuck does that mean?

Except he just... doesn't?

They make small talk instead, and every second of it kills him. Sure, Cas has good reason to ask about what happened with Chuck and whether Billie truly was taken care of and where Jack is, but it doesn't make it any easier for Dean, who really only has one thing on his mind now.

He thinks maybe after Cas eats, he'll be more apt to talk about it.

He's wrong.

But that's okay. Sam's here; it would be awkward anyway. He'll carve out some alone time with Cas that evening, see if it comes up then.

It doesn't.

He's probably tired. Sure, he took an hour-long nap before he even got back to the bunker, but he's also newly-human and newly-alive, and walking for days on end probably didn't help.

Maybe in the morning? Sam is out for a jog when Dean wakes up, and Cas is nowhere to be seen. Dean makes a delicious bacon breakfast for when Cas gets back (and he slips Miracle a piece while no one's around to tell him off for it). Cas has great timing; he comes out right as Dean is finishing up the last few pieces. Maybe a bacon breakfast will put him in the mood to talk.

... Or not.

And this goes on for days. Dean does whatever he can to get Cas alone, trying to get him to initiate that conversation — sometimes half-initiating it himself — and Cas never takes the bait. And, finally, Dean can't take it anymore. He can't keep pretending everything's normal with this eating him up inside. So, out of the blue one afternoon while Cas is reading and Dean is playing tug-of-war with Miracle, he asks.

"What did you mean, you love me?"

And Cas looks up from his book, eyes squinted and head tilted just a little bit to the side in that cute little way he does it, and he says, "I meant just that."

Which, obviously, does not clear anything up. "So you love me."

"Yes."

"Love me how?"

And Cas just stares at him because what the fuck does that mean? And now they're both hopelessly confused and after a minute of terse silence, Cas finally says, "I just do?" and it's more of a question than an answer and it sure as hell doesn't help with Dean's days-long crisis.

And Dean's like, "But what do you mean?" which is quite literally the exact same question he asked the first time and definitely doesn't clean anything up, and the look on the former angel's face says that perfectly well. "You mean you love me as...?" A friend? A brother? A lover? God, why does the English language have so many different definitions of love?

Cas just tilts his head a little more. "I don't think I understand the question."

And Dean can't tell if he's feeling exasperated or if he's feeling desperate what but finally he's just like, "Cas, was that just a heartfelt goodbye or was that a love confession?" and it's crystal clear on Cas's face that he finally understand.

But he still doesn't answer it. "It doesn't matter. I thought I was never going to see you again. I was wrong. Can we focus on that instead?"

And the fact that he didn't answer it almost makes it sound like it was a love confession, but the answer he did give almost makes it sound like it was just a heartfelt goodbye, and now Dean feels like his head is going to explode and what the fuck, Cas, just answer him!

And he might sound a little more upset than he'd anticipated when he says, "No, Cas, we can't!" so he quickly adds a softer, "I just... I need to know," because he does and how does Cas not realize that?

So, after a long pause, Cas says, "It was more than a goodbye, but you don't owe me anything. I truly meant it when I told you that happiness isn't in the having."

This has been plaguing Dean's mind for days but he'd never really thought about what he'd do if it really was a romantic confession, and now he's just??? Not sure??? Where to go from here???

And then Cas has the audacity to just go back to reading his book like nothing happened. Dean is having a whole-ass crisis and Cas is just reading a fucking book. It's unbelievable. How can Cas just drop this on him and then go back to his life like nothing happened?

For some reason, that really sends Dean over the edge, because he walks over and takes the book out of his hands so Cas has to look at him. But what the fuck is he supposed to say? What message is he even trying to get across? What is he —

And before he knows it, he's leaning over and giving Cas a kiss. Cas seems taken aback by it at first — like, really taken aback — but then he kisses back, and it's great; it's something Dean had never fantasized about before and god, he's glad he hadn't because he never could have done it justice in his mind.

It's Cas.

What more does he need?

#destiel #destiel ficlet #ig? #dean winchester #castiel #deancas #casdean #15x19 #15x19 coda #15x18 #15x18 despair #it was supposed to be a fanfic prompt type deal that I was hoping i'd get around to eventually and then it just... #became a lil bit more than that...

[deancaskiss]

The shock was too much. The first few hours, Dean couldn’t bear to take his jacket off- the print of Cas’ hand burning into his shoulder and searing into his soul. It kept the angel close. Kept Cas’ presence right where Dean wanted it.

But then the loss started to hit, started to take hold, and it became unbearable. Dean slipped the jacket off, laying it across his bed with the handprint facing up. Slowly, he trailed his fingertips along the stained handprint before pressing his palm to match squarely over the top of Cas’.

“I love you too, Cas,” Dean murmured into the heavy quietness of his room.

His heart ached. The loss was agonizing. He attempted to lay down, to tuck the jacket over his body; to bring the handprint to rest over his heart. But it was too much. Too much. Not enough. Not Cas.

He couldn’t sleep. His heart ached. His eyes burned. He felt empty and cold.

Trailing the jacket back over his bed and pressing his fingers to the handprint one last time, Dean moved into the library, grabbing several bottles of alcohol on the way. The only way he was sleeping tonight was if he was drunk enough to pretend Cas wasn’t gone.

#destiel #dean winchester #castiel #spn spoilers #the handprint #15x19 coda #coda #dailydestieldelights #bex writing

[mattzerella-sticks]

Sunrise (Dean/Cas coda to 15x19 “Inherit the Earth”, 1.7k)

(ao3 link)

Dean and Sam were free. Finally, unequivocally, free.

But this wasn't the happy ending Dean had expected. Maybe in the past, having Sam in the passenger seat tearing across an open stretch of highway as the sunsets, it'd be what he wanted. But that was years ago. He's not that man anymore. Dean's tired of sunsets, of saying goodbye. He yearns for a different ending. One that's less of an ending, and more of a beginning. A sunrise instead of a sunset.

Sam has his. Dean lost his. Despite this setback, he won't stop. He'll live in memory of his sunrise.

Except, what can he do when he feels those rays on his face again?

           Early morning sunlight streams through half-closed motel window blinds, striking Dean directly on his face. Stir him from unconsciousness, shuffling Dean out of his dreams. Warm blue and familiar stubble replaced with an ugly, orange patterned wallpaper that makes his stomach unhappily flip. Groaning, he turns. Hopes he can reclaim his quickly fading fantasy. It escapes his grasp, Dean left in the loneliness of reality.

           Truly. He checks Sam’s bed, finding it unoccupied. “Figures…”

           They crossed paths with Eileen coincidentally. Not like Sam’s pointed questions and giant thumbs hid his intentions. Even his terrible acting (“Eileen? What are the odds of you being here?”) couldn’t throw him off. Dean played along, however, letting them think he was in the dark. Knew exactly why his brother and his brother’s girlfriend hadn’t told Dean about this. Salt only hurts a wound that’s fresh and open. While badly healed, Dean’s grown numb to that missing chunk of his heart. More pained that his sadness made his loved ones go behind his back, act in guilt.

           Sam and Eileen don’t deserve shadows because of his pain.

           Which is why he’s happy for them. Left the bar so they can chat without his presence. Catch up, let Sam tell her about those kitschy tourist traps they’ve been hopping between since Chuck’s defeat. Show pictures of Dean in an upside-down house, Sam’s head peeking out from corn fields. Hold hands. Sit on the same side of the booth. Kiss, without worrying if Dean is steadily killing his liver at the bar because of them.

           Drinking lost its flavor anyhow.

           Free from Chuck’s influences, Dean decided he might cut a few more strings. Namely beer. He’ll enjoy a bottle every now and then but, reflecting on it, booze never offered comfort he really needed. Only aggravated a different sort of hurt, distracting him for a while. He abandoned those distractions. Instead of asking their bartender from last night, with his tanned skin and wavy, blond hair, for whiskey, neat, until he dropped, Dean stood from their table and paid his tab. Carried his longing out the exit, drove with it, laid down in his bed and held it close. Hugged it, imagining his arms. Praise whispered in his ear, about choosing a different way. A better way. A healthier way.

           Cas would be proud of him. Prouder than he already is. And Dean… felt the same.

           Rising, Dean stretches. Winces as a new disc pops and cracks in his back, “Motels ain’t what they used to be…” He throws his legs over the side, scrunching his toes in the shag carpet. Smiling, “But at least some things’ll never change…”

           It’s going to be a slow morning. Dean doubts Sam will swing by before noon, meaning he has hours to kill. First, he leisurely showers. Scrubs at his scalp with gentle scratches, humming Zeppelin under his breath. Keening ‘A Whole Lotta Love’s chorus, coming into his hand. Lets that melody fade while water makes his come sluice off his hand, into the drain. He switches tracks, dries himself while softly singing ‘Going to California’. Thinks about their next destination. All those beaches he and Sam plan on visiting. Finally making good on their promise.

           Not how he always envisioned it, but…

           Dean drapes the towel around his neck, staring at his reflection. Marks new wrinkles he hadn’t noticed, gray hairs where dirty blond were. Sees how small his eyebags shrank.

           Sleeping was surprisingly easy. Some days Dean wished it weren’t. Others, it’s his only chance at being with him again.

           “Nope,” he says, leaving the bathroom. Jumping out from the mirror. “Not going there… not this early…”

           He bides his time dressing, debating where he should get breakfast. Wonders if a diner they passed entering town might serve pie as he hops into his jeans. Waffles between a t-shirt or purple-and-blue plaid while rubbing deodorant on. Then, tugging his tee’s thin fabric over his head, he decides he isn’t that hungry. Can eat later, Sam driving so he can attack snacks he squirrelled away when they last stopped for gas.

           Knock Knock Knock

           “Sam?” Dean asks, glancing at the door. No one answers. “Sam is that you? You forget your keys or…” He checks his phone. Nothing.

           Knock Knock Knock

           “Sam, if that’s you – this isn’t funny.” He grabs for his socks, sitting on the end of his bed. “Pulling a poor joke on your brother, leaving your girlfriend alone in bed… shame on you.”

           Knock Knock Knock

           Dean squeezes his socks, glaring at the door. His irritation fades, weirdly, the longer he stares. Replaced with a different feeling, comforting. Without needing to, Dean guesses it’s not Sam on that other side. Tossing his socks, Dean stands and slowly inches forward. Drawn by gravity, a name perched atop his tongue. Waiting there, scared of being spoken. Of being wrong. He doesn’t feel wrong.

           Is this still a dream, he asks himself. Did I actually wake up? Dean waits, hovering near the doorknob. Remembers rushing last time, what waited there then. What he almost threw himself onto. Cycles through who might be waiting now. Something worse, a more terrifying monster. Or maybe mundane, like the motel manager. He’ll never know if he drags it out. Whether that’s motivation or warning, Dean can’t decide. What he does choose is flinging open that door and facing whoever was there.

           “Hello, Dean.”

           “Cas -?” Dean gasps, knees buckling. Laughing, he leans his weight on the door. Grins wide enough his cheeks must splinter, twin tracks of tears already spilled over. “Cas, is that…” He coughs, wiping at his mouth. “Is that really you?”

           Like nothing happened, Cas crosses the threshold. Dressed spectacularly… normal. Trench coat, suit jacket, and white button-down paired with his crooked blue tie. Dean’s hand drifts close but can’t touch. Not yet. “It is me,” he tells Dean, “you… probably have a lot of questions. About why I’m here, and – and what was said when the Empty…”

           Of course, there are questions. None were as important as Dean snatching Cas’s tie, dragging him into a heated embrace. “Later,” he promises, closing the door. Guiding Cas onto his bed. Falling, his angel’s body collapsing atop his. Weight proving further and further how real this is.

           He’s back!

           “I can’t believe…” Dean kisses along Cas’s neck, threading his fingers through hairs resting at his angel’s nape. Feeds a fire burning across his body, flames roaring with a desire for more. “Can’t believe I could be this lucky…”

           Cas chuckles, “Good things do happen, Dean.”

           “Never to us.” Pausing, Dean tears his eyes from the dip of Cas’s collarbone and to his face. “I searched, Cas. I did. Back when it was me, and Sam, and Jack, I did everything I could but I… there wasn’t any lore. Nothing about contacting the Empty, breaking through I – how?”

           Shifting, Cas rolls off Dean and onto his side. No sooner than it started, those flames eating at Dean’s insides tempered. Became a more manageable heat, containable. Dean tucked himself against Cas’s chest, hearing his heartbeat. Awed from that simple rhythm it gives. Lulls Dean with a gentle song. “Jack,” Cas explains. Rubs Dean’s shoulder, along where his handprint was. Teased the edges of his tee, part of his memorial tattoo revealed. Cas traces his palm outline. “In fixing Chuck’s mistakes, he… he mounted a rescue mission from Heaven.”

           “For you?”

           “For everyone.” Cas kisses Dean’s crown, continuing his story. Whispers it into his head. “All the angels. Jack rescued us all.”

           “Everyone?” Dean asks, “Meaning… Michael? Gabriel?”

           “Uriel, Balthazar, Anna, Hannah, Metatron – even Lucifer.”

           “What the hell?”

           “He was fixing what Chuck wasted. Saved Heaven,” he says, “Gave everyone a second chance, to do right by humanity. Be its guardians like we were supposed to be. And…” Cas lays his hand where it belongs, Dean shivering from contact. Wraps his arms tighter around his angel’s waist. “Jack offered me all my powers back, and then some. Said I could be his archangel… second-in-command, in all of Heaven.”

           Dean lifts his head, frowning. Studies Cas with a suspicious wrinkle creasing his brow. He deflates somewhat, disappointment rocking into him like heavy waves. Routine. Expected, since Cas was exactly where he wanted. But then, isn’t that answer enough? Dean asks regardless. “Did you take it?”

           “I thanked him for the offer,” Cas says, “however my place was elsewhere, here on Earth… with you.” His hand moves, cupping Dean’s cheek. Thumb brushes his lip. “And when our time comes, I’ll rejoin Heaven at your side.”

           Cas’s heartbeat makes sense, now. It never did that before.

           “We’ve got a long time before we croak, Cas,” Dean jokes, crawling higher up his bed. Enough that he can press their foreheads together. “You think you can handle it?”

           “I waited millennia to meet you, and then years just so I can hold you like this.” Cas closes the distance, capturing Dean’s lips. “I’m hoping our future is excruciatingly slow.”

           “Our future…” He relaxes, allowing a few more kisses before he starts again. “Y’know, I… I thought I’d never get to say that. Figured, after Jack took the reigns from Chuck, this was all we’d get and – and having everyone back was nice. But you weren’t there, and I hurt. When you died, I wanted to sit there and let myself waste away and join you. Except if I did, you’d be so angry and – that’s what’s been keeping me going. You loved me so much – and were pained whenever I was… I couldn’t do that to myself. Punishing myself wouldn’t be fair. So I thought about my future, how I can live it for those I loved. Be there… the person I’ve become, and not who I used to be. But now…”

           “Now you can be a little selfish,” Cas says. “We can be selfish.” He tickles Dean’s chin, hands roving across his body. “What should we do, for the first day of the rest of our lives?”

           Dean doesn’t dawdle. “I want to lay here,” he says, “Lay here the whole day, in your arms, telling you how much I love you.”

           “…I don’t see any problems with that.”

           Neither did Dean, which is why he suggested it. They fix themselves, first. Cas sheds most of his outer layers, leaving himself only in his boxers. Dean hurls his jeans off fast, jumping under the covers. Giddy as Cas joins him, both men facing each other. Hands joined above their sheets, Cas’s palm fitting perfectly.

           “Well?” Cas arches his brow, “How much do you love me?”

           Dean kisses him, ruining it by smiling too hard. “I love you too much, and not enough.”

#supernatural #spn #spn15 #15x19 #15x19 inherit the earth #15x19 coda #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfic #dean winchester #castiel #destiel #deancas #destiel fanfic #deancas fanfic

[lifblogs]

Sort of a 15x19 coda?

Was Dean Winchester a little tipsy? Yes. Did that mean he didn’t still know how to use a knife? No.

He eyed the six pack of beer he was planning on continuing to consume, and then gripped his bowie knife tighter.

I have to do this, he told himself.

Hell, maybe knowing what he had to do was why he was drinking so much, why he was planning on going till he died, or Sam found him passed out on the floor somewhere.

Dean sauntered over to the Winchester table in the bunker’s library, and gazed down at it. Fondness was easily something he felt while looking down at it, but through a sheen of tears, that fondness was almost lost.

It’s missing something, Dean thought.

It was. It was missing the same thing Dean was missing.

Dean had a final swallow of his beer (for now), placed it on the table, and set to work.

Despite the couple of drinks he’d had, his hand was as steady as ever. This was the one thing in the world that he couldn’t mess up. He’d messed up everything else, had even messed up his final moments with him.

I didn’t--

Dean paused, squeezing his eyes shut, clenching his jaw.

No, no.

Still, it came to him: I didn’t say it.

“Cas, I don’t know if you can hear me,” Dean said, praying to him for the hundredth time since that moment, “but this one’s for you. It’s for... for what I couldn’t say.”

Dean worked. He carved. Not a single cell or molecule of him was content until he stood back and looked upon CASTIEL carved into the table beneath his own initials.

A tear fell.

Dean held his beer up to the ceiling, to Cas, maybe -- if Cas was up there.

“I miss you, man. I’m sorry I didn’t say it.”

After, there was no way for him to go on, to continue speaking. His prayer continued as a wordless, sobbing thing. Dean looked for salvation in drink. When he didn’t find it, he just kept drinking.

By morning, he was passed out next to the table, CASTIEL burning into his mind.

#Destiel #spn #15x19 coda #fic coda #drabble #ficlet #fanfiction #Supernatural #Supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #Destiel drabble #Destiel coda #Destiel ficlet #Destiel fanfiction #writing #my writing