#bring back the birds and the people and cas. you bring him back. I don’t like praying because in my book it’s the same as begging but I’ll

[sunforgrace]

cas never knew how devastating his loss was to dean. he didn’t know. he never witnessed the mourning. he never heard those prayers. and then

#DEAN WANTED HIM TO STAY OF COURSE HE WANTED HIM TO STAY #YOU COULD HAVE IT. TOGETHER #not normal about this oh my god did he know. did he understand how wanted he was. how grieved for his loss. how joyful his return. #The one miracle the prayer answered #bring back the birds and the people and cas. you bring him back. I don’t like praying because in my book it’s the same as begging but I’ll #pray to you. I will beg god to give you back FUCK #im ill

[hornystiel]

chipped coin

1,6k, mature (i guess), early seasons destiel

so jackles and ida @chapeldean reminded me about the whole 'dean in cas' coat' thing and i wrote this in one go.

Dean’s rummaging in the pockets of the trench coat he’s currently borrowing from Cas in chance to find something like, you know, change, like what normal people are carrying with them in their pockets. 

Cas appears to be some kind of bird who likes shiny things, because his pockets have everything but the money Dean needs to buy himself a can of soda at 3 am from the vending machine outside of their motel room. Their room. 

Jesus, when did it become two rooms and not for Dean and Sam even, but for Dean and Cas, and Sam. Well, it’s not always like that, sometimes they still stay in one room because everything's packed and they don’t have any spare money or a working credit card with them. Except why the fuck Cas even needs to stay with them at night? And sleep in Dean’s bed. He’s a fucking angel, he doesn’t even need sleep. 

Not that Dean minds. Not really. 

Shiny rocks, a piece of glass (not sharp, thankfully), a cap from a beer Dean likes and tried to give to Cas a few times, some kind of a keychain in the shape of a cat? It’s cute though. Still no money.

Dean’s getting cold because he only slipped into Cas’ coat and currently wears only that, boots, and his batman boxers he managed to win from under Cas who was blissfully zoned out after fucking him into the creaky bed they share today. But once Dean took the coat and put it on, the look on Cas’ face became nothing but predatory. Dean’s sure if he lingered for a bit before leaving - they’d be having round two right now. 

Dean’s ass is still sensitive and he still feels, well, Cas’ come leaking out of him a bit. That should really be very gross, Dean’s sure he should feel gross. 

He doesn’t and that’s kind of concerning. 

He touches the bite mark on his neck and feels his cheeks heating up, even in the chilly parking lot. 

Castiel was intense the minute he appeared in Dean’s life, but Dean didn’t really think he would be so into marking him in every way possible. Although, the handprint on his shoulder should have given him some ideas. Dean coughs a little, trying to will his brain to stop translating the direct feed of Cas sucking hickeys on his hips half an hour before.

Right. He’s still thirsty, that was the reason he left the room in the first place. Not to contemplate. 

They are just fucking. Just fucking, just sharing a room, just talking for hours about everything and nothing, just grabbing a bite in shitty diners when Cas pops up out of nowhere right when Dean thinks it would be nice to make him try this new weird-looking pie and see that adorable frown make an appearance again, the apocalypse fuckery hanging somewhere in the background for once. 

Dean digs faster, in an attempt to overrun his own thoughts. How deep are those pockets? Finally something circle-shaped is in his hands and he brings it to the neon light to the left of him to see what it is. 

It’s the coin, a piece of it chipped a little, a tiny hole piercing it close to the ridge. 

Dean remembers this coin. 

He was boredly playing with all the change he had on him during their pitstop in one of the bars on their way to another state, Cas sitting on the opposite end of a small booth, looking ragged. Rebel angels have tough days. 

Dean noticed this coin and said Hey, look. This one is like you. Castiel squinted at the coin and mumbled Useless and broken? Dean huffed and went Not like the others and still kicking. 

He placed it in Cas’ hand and said that this one is for good luck. Castiel frowned but took it. 

Dean thought he threw it away or lost it a long time ago. But it’s still here. In Dean’s palm again. An angel who wields the destinies of the whole civilisations is carrying a chipped coin for good luck given to him by a hick human. 

Suddenly he isn’t really thirsty anymore. 

He puts everything back into the pockets and quickly goes back to their room. 

Cas is still sprawled on the bed (more and more human things in his arsenal, one day he’ll use this arsenal of adorable/annoying lethal quirks to kill Dean dead), but once Dean closes the door, he sits up and looks at Dean. 

Forget the pain in his ass, Dean wants to ride this ruffled creature into the sunset of a better future. 

“Dean, I advise you to take the coat off, because I’m not sure I can control myself when you are wearing it and I know you must be tired.”

“Aw, for a possessive bastard you’re such a gentleman.” Dean chuckles and without taking the trench coat off climbs on top of Cas’ naked thighs. “What, afraid you’ll fuck the Righteous Man too good he goes out of commission?” 

Castiel growls and tugs Dean closer, crushing their mouths together, hands roaming all over his body as if they were separated for a decade instead of thirty minutes tops. 

“It’s just…the more traces of me you have on yourself, the more I…” Cas hides his face in Dean’s shoulder, his movements slowing but not losing intensity, a hand crawling to the handprint, hidden under the coat. 

“Tell me.” Dean’s lost all of his brain cells on the way here, he wants to hear how much he breaks Cas’ restraint, he wants to know the moment Cas started thinking of this coat as a part of him, he wants to know whether it’s the first time Cas even feels this way and if so he doesn’t want to share this knowledge with anybody else. Man, they are both possessive as fuck. 

“I want to keep you to myself,” Cas whispers, unsure, and Dean moans, slowly grinding into him, starting to pull the coat off his shoulders, but Cas stops his hands. Holy fucking shit.  

“You were mine to rebuild, mine to bring back to life, mine to protect,” Cas lifts his gaze to Dean and strokes his jaw. “Now you’re mine to love.” 

If Dean ever wondered what the perfect example of “fuck around and find out” looks like in real life - well. He’s experiencing it now. 

“Shut up,” he tells Cas because he isn’t ready to start fucking crying during the most mindblowing kinky sex he isn’t even fully having right now. 

Cas opens his mouth to argue and probably tell him more insane shit that will rewire Dean’s mindframe forever and ever, so he shuts him up himself with kisses. After they’re finally done making out, Cas, the stubborn bastard, opens his mouth again.

“Was what I said wrong? You asked me to tell you.” 

“No, it’s just…” How can he even begin to explain everything that’s happening in his brain right now? That Cas just voiced Dean’s own feelings he’s too afraid to even start rationalizing in his own mind? Let alone talking about them. The thought that Cas doesn’t know what he’s talking about doesn’t even cross his mind. He knows they both feel the same and both are greatly inexperienced in just being in love. Cas being an angel, Dean being a hunter and both of them being fuckups. 

“You are thinking too much. I don’t require your answer, Dean, that’s not why I said it.” Cas touches his neck, shoulders, stomach, thighs. Feather-light strokes of his long fingers relax Dean gradually. “Just let me take care of you sometimes.”

 And Dean lets. 

The coat stays on, like a wall, shielding what they have from the rest of the world. Dean imagines that it’s Cas’ wings that envelop him and keep him safe. 

They take it slow this time, Dean rocking on top of Cas like he has all the time in the world, Cas’ hands are firm but still gentle, supporting him when he gets tired. He’s so beautiful underneath him, all black unruly hair, dark stubble and eyes only for Dean. 

Dean kisses him and kisses and kisses until his lips get numb and scratchy from all the licking and biting. 

Cas talks to him, quiet and intimate, and, dammit, Dean ends up crying after all. But he feels so, so much lighter, he feels like there’s light streaming from all the scars on his body. 

When they are cleaned up, Dean digs in the pockets of Cas’ coat again, Cas curiously watching from the bed, clad in boxers and Dean's t-shirt. Dean kinda gets why Cas jumped him when he walked in in his trench coat earlier. The t-shirt…is doing things to him too. 

He finds the coin again, takes it, threads a thick rope through the tiny hole in it and tugs the ends. Then goes to Cas and motions for him to bow his head. 

Cas looks puzzled for a second and then a tiny warm smile spreads on his face when he thumbs the improvised amulet on his neck. 

“Just uh. For it not to get lost in your giant ass pockets.” Dean’s scratching his head and fidgeting like a dumbass. 

“Thank you Dean,” Cas catches Dean’s restless hands in his and just holds them, “Thank you for taking care of it.” 

Thank you for taking care of me.

One day Dean will say it back outloud. 

#destiel #destiel fic #destiel ficlet #deancas #deancas fic #deancas ficlet #thisisapaige #spxcekya #becauseofthebowties #usermoogs #anztag #spncreatorsdaily #hashtag writing

[blazingstar24]

Thinking about how FCG genuinely seemed to buy into what the Ruby Vanguard was selling. Because of course for them, a clean slate sounds fantastic. They just learned that they are actually an assassin robot. That they were the one who murder their previous party. That there could have been more people they’ve killed.

And then some guy tells you that some higher being could make that all go away. That if freed Predathos will free everyone from it all and everyone gets to start over.

To someone like FCG? That’s the best news they could have gotten. Think about their reaction to Shithead. They were convinced that the bird was a manifestation of their sins come to punish them. We thought Orym has guilt issues? FCG can rival him in that because FCG’s issue is that he can’t even remember if he did anything wrong and he can’t remember what he did wrong.

To hear that you hurt someone but you can’t remember what you did? How do you make up for that? How do you atone if you have no memory of the incident? How can you move on from trauma that you don’t know the root cause of? Getting told someone can give you a redo is the best news. It’s a shortcut to feeling better. I mean we all have been tempted by the idea of getting to redo a moment where we fucked up.

But this is the koolaid that the Ruby Vanguard is selling. And the scary part is that it seems like they truly believe it. I personally think Ludinus does not buy what he’s selling. Because this is the ultimate tactic to recruitment. He finds people like FCG, like that guy. They’ve experienced trauma, they’ve had a bad lot, they’re broken down. And he sells them the dream.

What’s scary about Ludinus is that he’s not Trent. He knows that breaking people doesn’t work. He’s seen what becomes of that with Caleb. You cannot abuse someone into following you, it only leads to a knife in your back. No, what Ludinus does is he finds the broken, the desperate and he “lifts” them up. He offers that dream of a second chance. Of power. Of being more. Because he knows that once you buy into the dream, he’s got them. Once they buy in, he can manipulate you to die for him, to kill for him.

The guy they captured was ready to die for the cause. If he wasn’t magically compelled, he wouldn’t have spilled. He’s all in. Because Ludinus has promised that Predathos will make all that religious trauma he experienced go away. It’s his revenge. And now he doesn’t even hear the insane amount of holes in the plan. Like every question the BH bring up is valid. How do you know that Predathos won’t just fuck the mortals over too?

This is Ludinus’ MO. I mean how do you think Essek went with the CA for his research. Of course Essek willingly chose to do so and probably saw through the bullshit real quick, but Ludinus definitely played the sympathetic card. The “oh of course I understand how it feels to not have your research funded and appreciated. Your talents are being wasted” card. He’s lawful evil. He knows how to play the game vs Trent’s oozing chaotic evil everywhere he goes. Jester literally thought he was an okay dude after meeting him and had to be reminded that he helped hold Nott’s family hostage.

And honestly it’s not just FCG this would appeal to. All of BH’s have that desire in them. It’s just that a good chunk of them have good detecting bs meters. Truly it’s, Fearne and FCG that could be swayed. And that’s the scary part. Because in that moment Imogen understands the guy and why he’s doing what he’s doing. And now it’s not just evil moon obsessed people. It’s people that have been manipulated and swayed under some charismatic fuck. It’s not just a cult full of faceless evils. It’s them staring down at that temptation to give into what’s easy. They need to be stopped of course but boy did it get so much more complex.

#cr spoilers #cr meta #cr3 spoilers #cr fcg #ludinus da'leth

[pussypopstiel]

Dean voice talk to me are you sure about that you’re not weak you know that right amazing you did amazing cas is my best friend and what about cas I need you where’s the angel he’s a weird dorky little guy we could’ve used a strong angel I don’t know why I get so angry I took what I couldn’t hold out on you cas I need to say something don’t do this cas the people the birds and cas you gotta bring him back it’s not an it sam it’s cas

#my silly little posts #I’m not sure if the you’re not weak you know that quote was Sam or dean but I digress

[toomanyf4ndoms7]

Enter the Kombat Kids OC’s: Not everyone, just ones that I feel will show up more often.

This’ll probably be a long one.

Students and staff.

Kimberly Lane: Resident IT expert and the one with all the info on the latest drama and gossip. Acts as the unofficial relay point for Cassie and the gang whenever they need a refresher on high school drama. She has a feeling that there’s something up with them, but as long as they keep their deal she can move past the quirks. Has a habit of referring to people by last names. Considers herself and Jacqui to be “Acquaintances.”

Quote: “Information has a price Briggs, and so do I.”

Matthew Key: Top of the mathematics class, much to his chagrin. Has a habit of appearing in places you wouldn’t expect him to. Attracts pigeons somehow and visitors are afraid he’s attained a psychic link. Normally quite standoffish, he’s more respectful towards people who actually try to engage with him instead of just pigeonholing him (haha) into “Math whiz.”

Quote: “Just ignore the birds, they’re not too bad.”

Daniel Blum: Once one of Chris’s bullying cronies, Daniel split away from the group in tenth grade and started working to become a person he wants to be instead of blindly taking orders. He’s not perfect, taking anger management classes and sometimes struggles with saying the right thing at the right time, but there’s no doubt he’s mellowed out. Likes astrology and is always ready for a friendly competition with newfound friends.

Quote: “Look, people change. That’s all I’m saying. I mean, look at me.”

Teachers:

Mr Vogel: The school history teacher. A tough grader who appreciates when students put in extra effort. Isn’t fond of idle chatter/distractions. Is low key interested in the old Outworld and netherrealm invasions and wishes there was more real information.

Quote: “Those who failed know who you are and what you must do.”

Mrs Burch: One of the physical education instructors who can be either your favourite teacher, or make your PE class into a living hell. Cassie is one of her favourite students, just ahead of Jacqui, who impressed her with the goal kick of the century.

Quote: “So, any volunteers? Or am I going to pick one?”

Mr Forden: A music teacher. Usually easygoing and chilled, unless you clearly disrespect him. His class has a bit of running joke with him saying “Toasty!” in response to a students talent show performance, but he rolls with it.

Quote: “I don’t expect you all to make masterpieces, but I expect at least a little effort on your part.”

Soldiers:

Colonel Flagg: The “delivery driver” for the Kombat Kids missions. Cool headed and friendly, he’s one of the few soldiers who treats the team with respect instead of just tag along kids. Has a scar over his left eye from a BD mission.

Quote: “You four have fun. Bring back a souvenir if you can.”

Sargent Blake: A long standing member of the SF and one of the more vocal opposers to the “Next gen strike force.” Will refer to them as rookies but knows when to let his personal issues stand aside for a mission. Has tried arguing against the team, but lost.

Quote: “You’d best let the professional’s handle this.”

Colonel Chard: The fill in for Flagg whenever he’s off duty. He’s more bitter, especially in regards to Sonya, but is largely professional and respectful.

Quote: “She’s a hard person to please, but give it a whirl.”

Gemini: Another long standing member of the SF, Gemini prides herself on her technical expertise. Nowadays, she’s more than happy to see what Jacqui tinkers up to in the lab. More details on how I write her here.

Quote: “Knock yourself out.”

General adults:

Charleston Pesina: Owner of the “Mokap Mocha” coffee shop. Used to be a motion capture guy in Johnny’s films, now he lives the quiet life of coffee and teaching a karate class to kids who need it.

Quote: “It’s a boring life, but who says that a bad thing?”

Lily Price: Waitress at the “Grub Club” diner and the personal favourite of Cassie and friends. Gets extra tips by Cassie, even when she says it’s alright. Owns a pet frog, loves him with her entire heart and soul.

Quote: “What can I get for you four this fine afternoon? And, no, we are not hosting the nacho challenge anymore after last time.”

I hope you enjoyed? Keep in mind that there will most likely be more characters, these are just the ones I believe have the most prominence/necessary to be aware of.

#mortal kombat #revelations and stupidity #ETKK OC’s

[dean-mikaelson]

Hello, Dean. [Silver stake through the heart, that ought to do the trick. And that's love? Actually, love can get crazier than that.] I'm not exactly a believer. You will be son, you will be. [Part of me always believed that you'd come back.] Angels are watching over you. [I'll watch over you.] I'm not gonna believe this thing is an angel just because it said so. [It's not an it Sam, it's Cas.] I'm not one for praying, because in my book it's the same as begging. [I prayed to you Cas, every night.] Follow your heart. [We make the heart choice instead of the smart choice.] Don’t ever change. [You changed me, Dean.] You think I came because you called? [I always come when you call.] She only asked for one thing. [Dean, stop.] I left but you didn't stop me. [I should have stopped you.] Don't you think we owe him the benefit of a doubt? [You used to trust me, give me the benefit of the doubt.] You don't think you deserve to be saved. [He saved me.] We've lost everything, and now you're gonna bring him back. [You got to put everything back the way it was. The people, the birds, Cas. You got to bring him back.] I'd rather have you, cursed or not. [Ever since I took that burden, that curse.] We dated. Sort of. More like we watched a lot of old movies together. [The movie. With Curt Russell. I made you watch it.] Why do you love this world enough to risk your own life? [I cared about the whole world because of you.] Dean smiles, for the first time all season, he is happy. [Eyes open, heart full-- somehow happier than we've ever seen him.] Why do you only want what you can't have. [The one thing I want, it's something I know I can't have.] I can see inside your heart. Feel the love you feel. Except it's cloaked in shame. [There's things, people, feelings I want to experience differently than I have before. Or maybe even for the first time.] I know who you love. There's nothing for you to come back to. [You're hoping Castiel will return to you.] Happiness isn't in the having, it's in just being, it's in just saying it. [I need to say something.] Still beautiful. Still Dean Winchester. [My shy but devastatingly handsome friend here.] The angels, they don't care. It seems like when they try, it just breaks them apart. [I cared about the whole world because of you.] You know what's real? People. Families. That's real. [You asked what about all of this is real. We are.] I need you. [I love you.] Well, last night on earth. What are your plans? [I'll go with you, Dean] Is Cas still here? I don't think Cas is going anywhere. [Everyone you know, everyone you love, they could be long gone. Everyone except me.] I won't hurt Dean. You will. [Goodbye, Dean.]

xxxx

#the greatest love story ever told #THEE love story #insane love story for insane people #(me) #deancas #destiel #castiel #dean winchester #cas #supernatural #spn #destiel parallels #spn parallels #dean x castiel #deleted spn scenes

[jojaqualityheadcanons]

SDV's 1.5 update contains content that plays into racist, colonialist, and imperialist myths and beliefs.

Disclaimer: I loved SDV (which is a given, considering I have an SDV sideblog lol?), and I'm not writing this post to get people to boycott the game or stop liking it or whatever. I just want people to understand why this content is harmful, how it might be affecting your biases and beliefs, and think of how they can engage with this media without exacerbating the harm that it does. I'm Filipino, and I don't speak for all POC or all brown people, but I felt deeply hurt and betrayed by the content update. Please keep that in mind before you interact with this post. Explanation under the cut because of 1.5 spoilers (obviously) and because this got long.

(I will block people who clown on this post. Keep your opinions to yourself unless you also have firsthand experience with the issues I describe.)

Background

I was already wary of the 1.5 content update because of how the previews featured ~tropical~ and ~exotic~ stuff, but I decided to give it a shot because maybe I was being too hasty with my judgment.

I wasn't. I made a new save to play with the 1.5 content update, and at first, I was having a great time! The new special orders made gameplay more exciting and varied! I could finally get rid of the nursery from my house without mods! The remixed junimo bundles made me change my usual game strategy. And then, I finally unlocked Ginger Island.

It seemed cool at first, but I had a sinking feeling growing in the pit of my stomach as I kept playing. It got to the point that I started nursing a stomach ache and lots of anger that took me days to shake off. I know SDV has never been a shining example of racial/ethnic diversity and sensitivity (I mean... there's a reason why mods like Diverse Stardew Valley and a bunch of other diversity mods exist lol). But while the lack of diversity in the pre-1.5 content is more of a missed opportunity, the 1.5 content is just... actively harmful and hurtful, imo. Here's a breakdown of the issues with the setting and the characters:

The Setting

Ginger Island, along with the Fern Islands in general, is a tropical island that is clearly based on islands in the Pacific. Its features include fertile soil and an abundance of natural, foragable resources. And for some unknown reason, it has no native human population.

Many islands in the world are uninhabited by humans, and there's always a good reason why. The island's environment may be too hostile, it could be too small to sustain human life, it could be sacred or otherwise culturally unacceptable to live there, or some disaster may have occurred to wipe out the local population or cause them to flee. Some uninhabited islands are nature reserves or privately owned. The point is that if an island is habitable, people are bound to call it home.

Writing Ginger Island as an uninhabited "tropical paradise" feels like a copout. It's as if the game is saying, "don't worry, you're not colonizing this land because no one really lives here! You're not stealing this land or anything because it's up for grabs and is just waiting for the right person to come along to develop it and turn it into a resort for other people who don't live here!" But that claim rings hollow when there are so many signs of civilization there, such as literal computers and ancient structures. And the canon reason for the existence of these things is that dwarves, non-human creatures, lived there once. I just think it's ridiculous and harmful that the game completely ignores and erases the existence of the people who lived and still live in the places that Ginger Island is based on and goes even further to use non-human creatures as stand-ins. I don’t think I have to explain why this isn’t good, considering that people of color have been compared to animals and treated like animals to dehumanize us and justify our oppression for ages.

To really hammer in my point about whitewashing and erasure, all the human labor on the island is done by a flock of parrots that you pay with golden walnuts (i. e., resources that you get for free from the island they live on). There's even an anthropomorphized bird who's a shopkeep! I get that creating a whole cast of human NPCs to fill a town would have been way too much work for a content update, but CA didn't need to use a bunch of animals as stand-ins for non-white human characters. There’s a troubling trend of creators prioritizing animal characters over characters of color, and CA plays right into it. He seriously chose to create more anthro characters instead of adding characters of color to the game in a setting that in real life has populations that are primarily made up of brown people. The game includes brown people's land and cultures, but it draws the line at brown people themselves.

The erasure of brown people and the portrayal of our lands as wild and untamed have been used to sanitize the narrative of colonialism for centuries. Pretending that our lands were wild tropical paradises that were ripe for the taking is pretending that colonizing forces didn't use violent, dehumanizing means to subjugate or wipe out countless peoples and cultures in order to make these lands available. Ginger Island's erasure of brown people just perpetuates this colonialist myth, and the context in which it does so disgusts me: the farmer, who already runs a successful farm that was inherited from their grandfather, goes off to a tropical island they have no personal connection to and uses its natural resources to expand their business further. They also open up a resort on the island for the enjoyment of other privileged people from their homeland, and going there is treated as a luxury. This is a classic colonizer narrative, and I cannot believe the game forces players to colonize an island in order to win.

The Characters

I'm honestly amazed that the amount of feedback about the lack of diversity in SDV didn't prompt CA to create characters of color. I'm amazed that he chose the setting he did and still didn't bother to create any characters of color. The fact that all three of the new human characters who live on this tropical island are white makes me go a little apeshit, to be honest! I hate all three of them for a variety of reasons, so I'll go over them one by one:

Birdie

My reasons for not liking Birdie are primarily related to misogyny (lady spent literal decades in isolation on this island moping over her dead husband?) and ageism (if you tell her to live her own life, she tells you that she's too old to???). Sooo they're not really related to the rest of my discussion here, and I won't get into them further. Moving on!

Professor Snail

White historians, archaeologists, and paleontologists have been stealing and plundering artifacts, relics, and fossils from colonized lands for centuries. These white scientists would send their “discoveries” back to their homelands with little regard for the people they stole from. I’ll acknowledge that Professor Snail doesn’t bring the bones and fossils off the island, so his character isn’t as awful as it could be, but he still canonically has this line:

I really just don’t understand why it was necessary to make this character white when making him a character of color could have easily prevented the uncomfortable real-world implications of a white man coming to a foreign land to plunder fossils without asking anybody for permission. If he he’d been created as someone who traced his ancestry to Ginger Island and wanted to study the island’s biological history, his character could have been so sympathetic and even admirable to me! But his character as it is just makes me think of this meme:

Here are some links for further reading about colonialism in paleontology and other social sciences: 1, 2, 3, 4.

Leo

I had a hard time figuring out how to write about this character because the way CA wrote him is arguably one of the most racist parts of SDV. So many aspects of his character left me speechless and appalled because I cannot believe people are still writing shit like this in the 2020s.

I’ll start off with his storyline: this white child gets stranded on an island and is raised by animals. When the farmer meets him, he speaks in broken English to show how “wild” he is:

As the farmer continues to interact with him, he begins to speak more “proper” English:

Wow... he’s becoming more “civilized” because of the farmer’s influence!

As his story progresses, he reveals that he’s lonely because he doesn’t fit in among the other birds. Eventually, he leaves behind his non-human family and assimilates into a primarily white, Western-coded society because that’s supposedly where he belongs.

This whole storyline is made possible by the problems with the setting that I mentioned earlier. Leo wouldn’t feel so lonely and out of place if there were people on the island. He wouldn’t be depicted as wild and animal-like if he had an adoptive family made up of humans instead of parrots. But because CA chose not to have native human characters on this island, Leo can only be around other people if he leaves his home and family behind. As a result, Leo’s story has very uncomfortable parallels with how colonizers have historically separated indigenous children from their families and cultures and forced them to assimilate into the dominant colonizer culture because they considered indigenous cultures to be savage and barbaric (1) (2).

Leo’s whole narrative unintentionally implies that a good life in a good community can only be had in civilized white Western societies. I’m honestly having trouble with further explaining why Leo’s whole character makes me feel so gross, so just read up on the White Man’s Burden, The Jungle Book and other works by Rudyard Kipling (1) (2) (3) (4) (5, PDF download link), and even Tarzan (1) (2).

Leo’s character is also used to further whitewash non-white cultures: 

Poi is a Polynesian dish. Mango sticky rice, which is also a recipe that Leo teaches you in-game, is a Thai dish. In the letter, Leo says that the dish is from his home and enjoyed by his non-human family. Considering that he probably learned these recipes on Ginger Island, and that the only “people” who could have taught him this recipe are literal animals, including these recipes in the game in this way just reinforces the equation of brown people to animals. I’m not Polynesian or Thai, but I know that if CA had included a Filipino recipe in the game and not only had it taught to players by a white character, but also passed off as something from the white character’s culture, I’d be angry. I’ll repeat myself: The game features brown people's food and cultures, but it draws the line at brown people themselves.

I don’t think there’s any way to tweak or edit Leo’s character to fix the issues I described. No matter how we change things, he’s still an orphan raised by animals coded as indigenous people, and he assimilates into the dominant white Western culture. The only way to address these issues is to completely redo his character and even the setting of Ginger Island. Here are some options that I’ve thought of:

Leo is related to someone in the Valley and stays with them for part of the year.

Leo lives with his human family and community on Ginger Island.

Leo’s parents are specifically from Stardew Valley/Pelican Town and he wants to visit in order to reconnect with his heritage.

This list isn’t comprehensive, but it does show that there are so many alternatives to having yet another Mowgli story in Stardew Valley.

Conclusion

I don’t think that CA had bad intentions when he made this content, but the fact is that he did create this content. I’m not calling him a bad person. However, he does have a lot of racist, imperialist, and colonialist biases that he has yet to unlearn. Considering the setting and subject matter of the new 1.5 content, he really should have hired some sensitivity readers to avoid creating harmful content. The man’s sold over ten million copies of his game, and he certainly has the resources to put together a sensitivity team.

I can’t look at Stardew Valley the same way I did before 1.5, but I’m not going to condemn the game as a whole. I might play the game again someday, but I absolutely won’t be going back to Ginger Island. If you’ve enjoyed the Ginger Island content, then good for you! Please just keep all that I’ve written here in mind and accept that that content hurts some people like me.

If you’re a content creator, I urge you to get sensitivity readers if you’re featuring  cultures that you’re not a part of to avoid making the same mistakes that I’ve discussed here. Creating from a place of understanding and respect can only make your work better and more accessible to a wider audience, especially to the people whose culture you’re borrowing.

#stardew valley #sdv #sdv leo #sdv birdie #sdv professor snail #racism cw #imperialism #colonialism #blabbering #ids for images are in alt text btw!

[dothwrites]

15.20 coda--at the end of the world

author’s note: while i am still reeling from the finale, this was my way of making some kind of personal peace with it. don’t mistake this for me agreeing with the choices made <3 

---

“I would know him in death, at the end of the world.”--Madeline Miller

---

Castiel opens his eyes. 

All around him is green. A moment later, he hears the soft sound of birds chirping in the background; from further away, the faint sounds of children laughing. The air is ripe with the smell of growth, damp in the air and life underneath his fingers. 

He sits up. The sky is a perfect shade of blue, the kind found only in poet’s and painters imaginations. A few feet away, the shrubs grow, flowers spilling over themselves in their enthusiasm to be born. Everything is a riot of life and color. 

“Cas.” 

Castiel’s heart thumps against his ribs. He knows that voice. 

He whirls around, already knowing who he’ll find. Several feet away, Jack waits, one hand raised in a short wave. 

Castiel finds himself up on his feet, and within two short steps, he’s enfolded Jack in his arms. For a moment, he forgets about everything which came before, and allows himself this sheer comfort. If nothing else remains, then Jack is here. 

Jack hugs him back, twice as fiercely, before they separate. Castiel holds him at arm’s length, trying to find injuries or hurt on him, but there’s nothing. In fact, it’s almost as if...

“Jack,” he says slowly, his arm falling away from Jack’s shoulder, “what happened?” 

Jack smiles, a little lopsided, but still his boy. 

“Well,” he says, gesturing towards a bench, “It’s kind of a long story. 

---

For all that Jack said it was a long story, it ends up being remarkably quick in the telling. Castiel listens, sometimes grieving and sometimes proud, as he hears of how Sam, Dean, and Jack ultimately defeated Chuck. His heart grows in his chest as Jack recounts Dean’s words. 

That’s not who I am. 

A small part of him wishes that he could be there to see it, but he tucks that part of himself away. He said his piece. He relieved the burden which has been pressing down on his shoulders now for years. In his lifetime, it was nothing more than a blip on the map, but those years have made all the difference in the world to him. Finally, he can look back on them now without regrets. 

“And so, I came here,” Jack finally says, shifting a little on the bench. He looks oddly guilty, like the times Castiel would find him sneaking snacks back into his room. “I thought...” 

“What?’ Castiel prompts, after a few moments when it becomes clear that Jack has no interest in speaking. 

“Sam and Dean don’t really need me anymore. I mean, I know that they want me, but the world is bigger now. And the people up here need me too.” 

It’s then that Castiel looks around, scrutinizing his environment more closely. The nagging sense of familiarity hits and then he wonders how he didn’t see it before. His favorite Heaven, caught in an eternal Tuesday afternoon. 

“It’s not right,” Jack says, his forehead wrinkled into an earnest expression of worry. “The people here are stuck. While I was on earth, we all talked about free will, but the people here don’t have it. They’re stuck forever in an endless loop of memories, and it’s all just...empty.” 

Jack looks at Castiel, and Castiel doesn’t see God. He doesn’t see a divine being, or Lucifer’s son, or even an angelic being. He just sees his boy, lost and confused, but still so pure, still wanting to do the right thing, no matter what. 

“Cas?” Jack asks. “Will you help me?” 

---

Rebuilding Heaven is slow work, but time doesn’t really mean anything here. It’s delicate to rebuild the walls separating billions of souls so that nothing collapses. Castiel works alongside Jack, making suggestions as his mind trips along to potential problems. 

Though it’s never said aloud, Castiel knows why Jack is working tirelessly. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, the knowledge sits that Sam and Dean are going to die. One day, they will pass from the earth, and come to Heaven, and on that day, Castiel wants everything to be perfect for them. He wants to show them a true paradise, a place without walls or barriers, a place where emotion is genuine and not just a manufactured memory. Rebuilding Heaven is his last chore, the last of his penance to be performed. 

He does make one stop, however. 

When he walks in the door, Kelly’s head lifts up from the book she’s flipping through. Her smile is a balm to the hurt places inside him, the ones that he likes to pretend don’t exist, because he was happy, yes? That was the whole point of everything, was to be happy. “Hey, Cas,” she greets him, shifting over and patting the couch next to her. “I was wondering when you’d be by.” 

“I’ve been busy,” Cas says, settling down on the cushions. In Heaven, his body is easier than it was on earth, more flexible, and he wonders if that’s because after all these years, he’s finally returned to where he was supposed to belong, or if it’s because he no longer has the shadow of his love pressing down on his shoulders. 

“Jack told me. Rebuilding Heaven? Sounds ambitious.” 

“The old Heaven was...not ideal,” Castiel says. “I thought it was at the beginning: each soul gets a paradise tailor made to them. But then, I realized that human life is meaningless without the connections we form along the way. Each soul, stuck forever in its own loop is...” 

“It’s lonely,” Kelly says, reaching out and squeezing his hand. Castiel returns the gesture, grateful for the connection. Her eyes are kind as she moves closer to him, her shoulder pressing into his. 

“So what happened?” 

---

In their time together, Castiel never told Kelly about Dean, at least not explicitly. But she had a brilliant mind and was able to see the threads of his longing woven into everything he did. Relating the story to her comes easily, and he tells her things which he would never tell Jack. 

“And I was happy,” Castiel says at the end. “I was.” 

“You trying to convince me or yourself?”

“Neither,” Castiel replies, bristling slightly. It was true that he might have been happier--he had performed a willful obfuscation of the original terms--but that doesn’t negate what he felt in that moment. The sheer love, the overwhelming gratitude, the incandescent happiness of being able, one last time, to proclaim to the world Dean Winchester is Saved. 

Everything else is unimportant when viewed through those lenses. 

“Why haven’t you gone to see him?” Kelly was always good at cutting to the heart of the problem. 

“Dean has his life on earth. I have my work here in Heaven. I don’t...” Because, of course, he’s asked himself the same question many times. Why doesn’t he go find Dean and tell him of one last, improbable miracle? 

“Cas, let me tell you: I didn’t know Dean all that well, but I didn’t need to if I wanted to know how he felt about you. It was all over his face.” Kelly turns to face him, suddenly serious. “Cas, you should go to him. At least allow him to speak his side. If he doesn’t feel the same way, then you’ll know. And if he does...” 

Castiel shakes his head. Happiness in the being is what he’s told himself ever since he awoke to find himself in Heaven. Happiness doesn’t come from the having. He will live with himself and find contentment in the works which he does. 

Kelly looks sympathetic, but doesn’t say anything as he walks out. 

There’s work to be done. 

---

Castiel sighs with satisfaction as he walks through Heaven. Slowly, the walls are coming down. Souls are mingling and interacting. There’s joy in the once quiet halls, the giddiness which comes from freedom after too long without. He moves through the different realms, silent as a thought, and goes unnoticed, at least until a gruff voice catches his attention. 

“What the hell are you doing here, boy?” 

A wide grin splits Castiel’s face. Only Bobby Singer would think to call an angel ‘boy’. He walks towards the old hunter, who looks the same now as he did in life, and is surprised when Bobby sweeps him up in a hug which would threaten to crack his ribs, were he human. 

“You did good,” Bobby whispers, his voice thick in Castiel’s ear. “I heard what you and that boy Jack did, and you did real good.” 

It means more than he would have thought, to have Bobby’s approval. After a moment’s pause, he hugs Bobby back. 

When Bobby pulls away, he quickly knuckles his eyes, before clearing his throat. “So, you fixed Heaven on top of everything else? What do you have planned next?” 

Castiel’s shoulders lift in a shrug. “There’s always work to be done maintaining Heaven. We don’t know what, if any, effects the restructuring will bring, so I suppose I will be traveling and making sure that everything is stable.” 

“If that ain’t a load of shit,” Bobby scoffs. “From what I’ve seen, your boy has enough power in his pinky finger to do just about whatever he wants. Stop making excuses and get your feathery ass back down there.” 

Castiel swallows. “It’s not quite as simple as that. Sam and Dean have a chance to live their lives, the way that they would wish for them to be lived. It’s not fair of me to intrude.” 

“Now, if that isn’t the biggest pile of horseshit I’ve ever heard.” Bobby’s mouth twists underneath his beard. “Only one thing keeping you from going back down to see those boys, and it sure as hell ain’t concern for Heaven or some BS notion that they’re better off without you.” Castiel opens his mouth, but Bobby speaks over him. “And don’t tell me that you’re just waiting either. Something I learned a long time ago--you never have as much time as you think you do.” 

Castiel closes his mouth and says nothing. 

---

Bobby is wrong. 

There’s still time. He doesn’t have to go yet. There’s still work to be done in Heaven, souls to be guided, walls to be broken. Jack still needs him. 

There’s still time. 

There’s still time, until there isn’t.

---

Castiel feels it before he knows what’s happening. It’s a rift, a tear, something which ripples throughout the universe and comes to hit him in the chest. He staggers backward, hand clutching at his shirt. 

His first thought is that Heaven is under attack, but a second’s observation tells him that’s not the case. Everything is fine. The fabric of Heaven remains secure, the souls are unbothered. It’s only him that feels the blow. 

With a flutter of wings, Jack appears beside him. His face is a mask of distress, tears welling in his eyes. “Cas,” he cries, clenching his hands into fists at his side. “Cas, it’s--” 

“Dean,” Castiel says, finally understanding the bolt of pain which ripped through him. 

It was too soon. He doesn’t know how much time has passed on earth, but he knows it was too soon. 

It’s always too soon. 

“Cas, what do I... I can heal him. I can go and heal him now. I can save him. I can...” Jack trails off, his feet still pacing in desperate circles. “What do I do?” 

It’s a child’s question, and Castiel has no answer. 

“Free will,” is all he says. “Whatever you do...It’s your decision.” 

---

Castiel feels when Dean Winchester’s soul enters Heaven. He held that soul within his grace, he snatched it away from the filth and flames of Hell. He cradled that soul while he was reassembling Dean’s body, pulling atoms out of air to create skin, flesh, and bone. He would know that soul at the end of everything, and he knows it here, when it settles into the place which was created for him. 

It was as perfect as Castiel could make it; down to the Impala sitting in the Roadhouse’s parking lot. He created every inch of Dean’s Heaven in homage, in apology. 

It wasn’t fair. Dean deserved to live to a ripe old age. He deserved to enjoy the world for which he fought so hard. He should have grown old, should have found peace, should have discovered the foibles and pitfalls of normal, human existence. Dean worked too hard, for too long, and he deserved a kinder, softer fate. Instead, he’s here, and all Castiel can do for him is to craft his Heaven with painstaking care. 

He pauses on the boundaries of Dean’s Heaven. Every fiber of him yearns to go forward, to rejoice in Dean’s presence, to see that beloved face again. He wants it so badly he can almost taste it, leather and gasoline and whiskey mingling together until he’s back in the bunker, listening to the sounds of his family--

Castiel takes a step away from the border. First one, then another. After three steps, it becomes easier. 

Dean has his paradise, and Castiel won’t interfere. 

---

Heaven moves as it always does, timeless and changeless. There is no turn of the earth to mark the passage of time. Instead, it moves like the ocean, rolling waves which are always moving and yet the surface remains the same. Castiel travels through various Heavens, observing the newly liberated souls, and taking his peace from their newfound enjoyment. It eases something within him to see his former home restored, better than it ever was before. 

He’s inspecting a field of sunflowers when the sound of a car door closing surprises him. Immediately, his heart lurches in his chest, dipping down to somewhere around his knees before hurtling upwards to lodge in his throat. He swallows before he turns around. 

Dean Winchester is there. 

Castiel’s heart, always out of his control, performs a quick dance against the confines of his ribs. Dean looks...He looks whole and wonderful, vibrant and alive. The lines around his eyes look as though they’ve been carved through laughter instead of despair. His shoulders sit easier, no longer pressed down with the burden of the entire world. 

Castiel licks his lips. “Hello, Dean,” he finally says, when it becomes obvious that Dean has no intention of making the first move. 

Dean’s lips quirk up in a grin. “Cas,” he says, not moving from where he’s leaning up against the frame of the Impala. “You’re a hard guy to track down.” 

Layers upon layers of subtext are placed within the seemingly simple sentence. Castiel remembers Purgatory as well as anything else, the desperate year of keeping one step ahead of Leviathans while close enough to Dean to protect him if need be. 

“I’m sorry,” Castiel says faintly. “I wasn’t aware anyone was looking.” 

Dean’s face performs a series of interesting maneuvers, dropping and rising and twisting. It finally settles into an expression like stone as he pushes off the car and storms towards him. Castiel waits, caught up in breathless anticipation of the oncoming storm. 

“Look,” Dean growls, reaching out and snagging the lapel of his coat, almost like he wants to ensure that Castiel doesn’t escape. Castiel doesn’t even dream of it; there’s no other place he’d rather be than caught in Dean’s grip. “There was a lot of shit going on at the time, so I didn’t get to say it then, but there’s nothing happening now, so you are going to sit here and listen, all right?”

Castiel nods, but Dean doesn’t seem to notice. “I can’t believe you didn’t...” He runs the hand which isn’t still wrapped up in Castiel’s coat over his face. “You idiot,” he finally breathes. “A couple of dumbasses. You’ve had me, Cas. All along, you’ve had me.” 

Castiel looks up at Dean in sharp surprise. When he meets Dean’s eyes, there’s nothing but the infinite compassion which he fell in love with. “You... You’re this force of nature that came bursting into my life. All this time, you’ve always been there, always helping, and I took that for granted, I know I did. But, god, Cas, I should have told you every day how thankful I was to have you there with us. I should have let you know what a miracle you are. You never gave up on me, not once, not even when I deserved it.” 

Castiel’s breath hitches in his chest as Dean lets go of his coat. Slowly, with a shaking hand, he reaches up to cup Castiel’s cheek. “You never stopped believing. You never stopped trying. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.” 

“Dean.” The name bursts out of Castiel’s chest in a harsh breath. Dean’s words are working their way underneath his skin, to the point where his body can’t contain them. 

“Cas.” Dean gently angles his face up so that there’s no escape when he says, “I love you.” 

“I’m sorry,” explodes from Castiel’s chest, the helplessness and grief he felt when he felt Dean’s soul leaving earth erupting in a single quick sob. “Dean, I’m so sorry, I should have been there, I should have done something, I never should have left you alone--” 

“Cas.” Dean’s fingers press into his cheek, not hard, but firmly enough to get his attention. “It sucks, all right? There was so much I wanted...” The corner of his mouth drops. “I was going to get you out, and you, me, and Sam were going to head to the beach. I was going to get you drinking out of a coconut, maybe a Hawaiian shirt. We were going to do Christmas, I was going to take you to a theme park and see if you puked on roller coasters. I wanted...” For a moment, grief so overwhelming that it can’t be touched crosses Dean’s face, but then, with effort, he pushes it away. “There’s so much that I wanted, but it’s done now. And besides, you’ve been busy.” Dean raises his eyebrows. The grin on his face invites Cas to smile as well. “Reforming Heaven?” 

“I wanted...There was so much I did wrong here. I thought if I could make it right, that maybe...” Castiel leans his cheek into Dean’s hand. “I wanted it to be perfect for you. You weren’t supposed to be here yet.” 

“I know. I know. And it’s not okay, but you’re here, all right? Mom’s here, Bobby’s here, Charlie, and Jess, and Kevin, and Ellen and Jo...They’re all here, and thanks to you, I’m going to see them. You did that, Cas.” 

“Jack did most of the work--” Castiel begins, but he’s cut off by the soft press of Dean’s lips against his. 

Sparks burst in his chest as Dean’s hand slides around to the back of his neck to cradle his head. His other arm slides around his waist, and suddenly, Castiel is held by Dean Winchester, by this miracle of a man. Dean’s kisses consume him, until he’s no longer Castiel. Instead, he’s heat, and friction, and more. 

“You and me,” Dean pants against his lips, pulling away just far enough to run his nose along Castiel’s. “We’ve got time now, Cas, we’ve got so much time. I’m going to take you apart, going to show you how much I love you, every single day. I’m going to show you everything.” 

Castiel is drowning in the outpouring of Dean’s devotion. He’s helpless in the riptides. All he can do to save himself is kiss Dean again, tasting salt on their lips from where their tears trace down to their lips. Castiel cries partly for Dean’s missed opportunities and the fact that life is so cruel. But he also cries from happiness. Dean is right. Here, they have all the time they could ever want. There’s time to explore every feeling and desire, time for them to become themselves, without the pressure of the world around them. 

They part. Somehow, Castiel’s hands have found their way onto Dean’s waist. One of his thumbs is braver than the rest of his whole body, as it sneaks underneath Dean’s shirt to touch bare skin. Dean grins at him. 

“Hey, Cas,” he asks, pressing his forehead to Castiel’s. “Do you want to take a drive?” 

Their fingers entwine as they walk towards the Impala. Castiel’s chest feels light, like Dean’s hand is the only thing keeping him tethered to the ground. “I’m still trying to figure out the roads here. It felt like I was driving around for forty years to try and find you.” 

They settle into the Impala, where they’ve been so many times before, but now Castiel can enjoy every squeak of the leather seats. He can revel in the imperfections of the car because of the perfection that’s next to him. Dean Winchester reaches across the seat and takes his hand, as easy as breathing. 

“I can’t wait to show Sam everything,” Dean says, as he guides the Impala back onto a road which Castiel is almost certain wasn’t there when he arrived. “I, uh...Hope it takes him a while to get here. But. Yeah, when he gets here, I can’t wait to show him everything.”

“We’ll see it all together,” Castiel finally says. It’s all he can say, his heart too busy dancing in his chest. 

They have all the time they want.

---

Time slips and passes and stops. In between his time with Dean, Jack, and the rest of the residents of Heaven, and performing maintenance throughout Heaven, Castiel watches the earth. He sees those left behind grow older. Claire and Kaia start a family, Claire finally having set aside the kernel of anger in her heart. Castiel watches Sam and Eileen’s family grow, smiling when Sam finally goes back to law school and gets his degree. He spends the rest of his career fighting for justice for children lost in the system, those who can’t fight for themselves. Saving people, hunting things, indeed. 

Several times, Castiel thinks about going to visit Sam, if only to assuage the grief he can still see the man carrying, but each time he stops. It hurts, but grief is a facet of life. This grief is natural. It comes honestly. It’s not manipulated by a sadistic higher being for a voyeristic pleasure. 

Eileen comes out to the Impala and brings Sam back into the house with gentle touches. Throughout the years, she’s learned how to navigate Sam’s moods, and knows how to bring him back. They lay in bed, foreheads pressed together, Eileen’s body curved into Sam’s. 

“I just,” Sam begins, twisting slightly so Eileen can read his lips, “I just miss him so much sometimes.” 

“I know,” Eileen answers. It’s all she needs to say. 

After a while, Sam gently wraps his fingers around Eileen’s wrist, partly for comfort, partly to grab her attention. “Dean’s baseball game is next weekend. Do we know yet if it’s going to conflict with Beth’s dance rehearsal?” 

“It shouldn’t,” Eileen answers, and with that, the normal routine of their life is reestablished. The grief is always present, but it’s part of the human condition. 

Castiel turns his eyes back to Heaven, where Dean waits for him. Despite it being Heaven, he insists on making repairs to Bobby’s house as well as the Roadhouse, even when Castiel reminds him, for the hundredth time, that if he truly wanted to, he could fix these imperfections with a thought. 

“Sometimes, you just have to do things the hard way,” he answers, through a mouthful of nails. 

Castiel rolls his eyes and goes to help him. 

---

The morning dawns, quiet and gentle. The dawn is silvery-gold as it stretches across the grass leading up to the cabin. In the distance, the birds start singing. Castiel can smell the fresh scents of spring, dew clinging to the grass, the clean, bright potential in the air. His toes stick out from underneath the comforter, but a quick flip of his foot flicks the corner of the blanket back into place. 

A warm, heavy arm winds over his waist. “Babe, it’s too early,” Dean mumbles into the nape of his neck. “Go back to sleep.” 

Castiel strokes over the back of Dean’s hand. The words are tempting, but something has woken him up, and now that it has, he wants to know what it is. He props himself up on his elbows, ignoring the chill of the air as it bites at his bare skin, and concentrates. After a second, he startles. 

“Dean,” he says. 

Though he doesn’t put urgency or fear into his voice, something about his tone makes Dean open his eyes, suddenly alert. Castiel looks at him, and Dean rolls over onto his side. After their time together, they’ve mastered the art of the wordless conversation, much to the chagrin of Charlie, Kevin, and anyone within ten miles of them, at least according to Jo. 

“It’s time?” Dean asks. He rolls closer to Castiel, stealing his warmth, as he trails his fingers over Castiel’s ribs. 

“Yes,” Castiel answers, taking Dean’s hand in his and pressing kisses to each of Dean’s fingertips. “Won’t be long now.” 

Dean’s fingers slide across his cheek before he curls his fingers around the bolt of Castiel’s jaw, pulling him down. Their lips meet in a chaste kiss which still manages to make fireworks explode in the pit of Castiel’s belly. He doesn’t think the thrill of kissing Dean will ever fade. Castiel doesn’t want it to. 

“I should get going,” Dean murmurs, rubbing against the bristles on Castiel’s cheek. “You want to come along?” 

Castiel relaxes back into the mattress, only reluctantly parting from Dean. “No, you go. I’ll be here when you get back.” 

“I know.” Dean slides out of bed, and Castiel takes a moment to appreciate the play of his muscles underneath fair skin. He lets out a small, disappointed noise when Dean slides into a pair of jeans and a jacket, causing Dean to roll his eyes at him over his shoulders. “Yeah, keep it in your pants. Definitely wearing clothes to this particular meeting.” 

“Shame,” Castiel murmurs, waggling his eyebrows. 

“Shameless,” Dean corrects, leaning over the mattress to kiss Castiel once more, short and sweet. “We’ll be back before too long.” Another kiss to Castiel’s forehead, and then Dean murmurs, “I love you,” into his hair. 

Castiel smiles. Much like kissing Dean, hearing those words will never grow old to him. He’ll revel in them, roll in the simple syllables, allow them to sink into him, with the simple truth that Jack tells him, that Charlie tells him, that Kelly tells him, that even Bobby and Ellen and Jo tell him. 

You are valued. You are loved. 

He smiles at Dean Winchester, this impossible, miracle of a man. “I love you too,” he replies. 

Dean out of the bedroom. The door to the cabin opens and closes. Castiel rolls over onto his back and stretches, staring up at the ceiling. 

There’s work to be done today. He’ll need to travel through Heaven, informing the various interested parties that Sam Winchester has arrived. There will be a party tonight at the Roadhouse, a celebration instead of mourning. Then he and Dean will get to show Sam their Heaven, will listen to Sam relate through his years. 

There is so much work to do. 

But they have time. They have all the time they need. 

---

“Life never ends when you are in it.”--Lemony Snicket, The Beatrice Letters

#spn spoilers #destiel #destiel fanfic #destiel fic #deancas #deancas fic #saileen #saileen fic #dean winchester #castiel #sam winchester #eileen leahy #coda fix #15.20 coda #fix it #fix it fic #because fuck the finale that's why #do not take this fic as agreement with what happened #but this is the only way my brain will accept it #unbeta'd because we die like men in this house #dothwrites

[finaledenialist]

(blame this post by @lobotomycastiel and tumblr tags limit)

It's almost august, and Sam is worried.

Dean simultanously can't bear to look at the kid and he can't leave him out of his sight. This leads to carrying Jack with him when he goes shopping, or for a walk in the forest. And Jack loves the forest. It's calm and the wind hums gently through the branches. Sometimes a bird chirps in the bushes. It's peaceful and for the longest time those long walks with Jack were the only times the little one was able to fall asleep, so they kind of became a habit; a sort of tradition; even after a few weeks when Jack finally learnt how to sleep in his cradle. Which obviously is in Dean's room because he is not. letting. Jack. out. of his. sight. Because he is the antichrist you know. The devil's son. Evil incarnated. That's why Dean has to keep an eye on him even if looking at him is the last thing he wants to do. At least that is of course how Dean excuses this to himself.

Then there are grocery runs. Dean made sure the Impala is safe for the kid and just drives with him safely tugged in the backseat. Jack absolutely loves those drives. He is looking in awe through windows at the passing world with his big doe eyes that not at all remind dean of C--  

No. On their way back Jack usually falls asleep in 5 minutes. Their way home sometimes lasts way over 2 hours because Dean just likes  to drive okay there is nothing wrong with a guy wanting to calm his thoughts and have a moment to himself in his own car right? That is not at all about the fact that Jack sleeps so peacefully and he looks so cute and innocent and Dean doesn't want to disturb it.  So he drives and he drives and he drives. Sometimes he stops somewhere to look at the view or something and sometimes his eyes wander up to the sky, to the heaven's above and Dean doesn't know how or when but he caught himself praying and crying more times than he could count. In those silent prayers he tells Cas all about his day, about what they did with Jack: how Jack laughed when he saw a pidgeon or how interested he was when he saw a dog for the first time. You know; all that day to day stuff. It always ends with Dean almost begging for Cas to come back because he can't do this alone, because Sam just doesn't understand, because it's Cas' kid, it's Lucifer's but it's Cas', and it's Kelly's and he just can't let him go but he also can't do it alone. And holy shit Cas I don't know how it happened but he looks like you even though it's literally impossible. He has your eyes, even though they are not blue. But they are full of wonder and awe and life and curiosity about the world and sometimes they are full of tears but they are always, always full of love, and Cas, just please come back just this once, this just one more time, one more, only one more--

And then he hears Jack has woken up so he wipes his tears and walks to the car and smiles to the kid he should hate, who he wants to hate so desperately but he can't. He can't because this is just a kid - a newborn baby - who is completely at his mercy and he can't bring himself to hate him. He just doesn't have the energy that hate requires. What he has is grief. So he walks up to the car and takes Jack to his arms and Jack smiles at him with all the love and adoration of a child and Dean's eyes are teary again and he looks at the sky again and he says something like 'I don't believe that whole tarot crap you know'; he says it quietly. No one is there to hear him but Jack, but his voice is a soft almost-whisper and Jack's attention is immediately on the sound of Dean's voice because he loves that voice; the one who sings him lullabies and the one who calms him when he's scared because it's dark and he is so small and his mom's not there, and then Dean continues: 'but one day I will tell you all about the angels'. And then he kisses the top of Jack's head, the blond locks that are nothing like Cas', sits him safely in the car and they drive to the bunker. Jack is loudly complaining because he loves the forest and the town and people and the sky and the sun and the bunker is so dark and lonely and there is no dog.  

They come back and Sam immediately yells at Dean, 'Where the hell did you two been?!' and he's obviously worried and a little angry, too, because this is getting out of hand. Everything is getting out of hand lately. So he adds, more softly this time, 'Dean you can't just... Your grocery runs can't last 6 hours, man. I am worried', but Dean is holding Jack with one hand and the groceries with the second. He puts the bags down and finally looks at Sam with dead eyes and doesn't speak. He hasn't in 3 months.

#i know that no one asked for this but i didn't go off just for tumblr to cut me off that violently #:/ #widower arc #destiel txt #baby jack truthing

[chevrolangels]

kiss me under the shit stick

deancas, christmas, ~700 wds

They’re in some old folks home, all decked out for the holidays. Sam’s doing his empathetic-puppy-dog-I-hear-you-face to the receptionist and getting all the info, which leaves Dean and Cas to hang back and wait for the go signal. 

Castiel’s drinking his third cup of coffee that morning, some Folgers that a smiling aide had pressed into his hands. He hadn’t the heart to say no.

Dean takes the cup from Castiel without asking, taking a generous swig. As he lowers the cup, he smiles, nudging Castiel with his elbow.

“Hey, Cas,” he says, nodding up towards the ceiling. “Look.”

Castiel follows his gaze. Above them, above the doorway of a small alcove, is a sad-looking plant, tacked limply to the wall. 

“Mistletoe,” he observes. Dean smirks.

“Uh-huh. Mistletoe.”

He sidles closer, fingers ghosting over Castiel’s back, down to tease at his waist.

“And you know what that means, don’t you?” He asks, waggling his eyebrows.

Castiel rolls his eyes.

“I do, indeed.”

Dean's grip tightens on his waist, bringing Castiel closer, and he’s already leaning in, despite them being rather exposed. It’s thrilling, to see Dean more comfortable with himself, with them—but Castiel isn’t going to pass up such a golden opportunity.  

“Strange, though,” he says, and Dean abruptly pauses, squinting at him.

“What?” 

Castiel shrugs.

“Strange that humans would choose mistletoe to kiss under.”

Dean looks at him suspiciously.

“Okay...and why is that?”

“Mistletoe is a parasitic plant and only propagates through bird droppings,” Castiel answers. “The word itself comes from ‘mistle’, meaning ‘feces’, and ‘toe’, meaning ‘twig’.”

He pauses, watching Dean’s expression spasm.

“You humans do have some strange traditions,” he says innocently.

“Wait a second—”

Dean holds up a finger.

“Are you telling me...people have been kissing—for years—under a literal goddamn shit stick?”

Cas nods. 

Dean gapes at him for a moment, then glances upward again. 

“Oooookay,” he says, grimacing. “ Never mind. I’m just gonna—”

In one smooth motion, Castiel grabs Dean’s coffeeless hand, pulling him back into the alcove, pressing him against the wall. Dean makes a small noise of surprise before Cas’s lips are on his, slightly dry, wonderfully soft, warm as he cups Dean’s jaw with his other hand.

“You’re not getting away from me that easily,” he says softly, nose bumping Dean’s. Dean blinks, a little dazed.

“You’re the one who brought up bird feces,” he mumbles, but his other hand searches for Castiel’s tie, pulling him closer. Castiel chuckles.

“I’d happily kiss you anywhere, even under the shit stick,” he murmurs, “But we might scandalize a few of the residents.”

Dean smiles.

“Better take advantage of this privacy, then,” he says, before leaning in again.

~

Rosa, at the receptionist desk, pens in another clue into her crossword. Sadie is still talking to the nice young man with the too-long hair, and across from her, the other two agents spill from the small room where they keep the brooms, straightening their jackets. The cute one’s hair is completely disheveled, and the other one has a smug smile on his face. 

Rosa shakes her head, and goes back to her crossword.

Dean clears his throat, his cheeks pink as their fingers tangle together, hidden behind the folds of Castiel’s coat. 

“Okay, Kris Kringle,” he says affectionately. “You got any other fun Christmas trivia tidbits?”

Castiel pretends to think for a moment, thumb brushing over Dean’s.

"Well, pre-Christian cultures regarded the white berries of the mistletoe as symbols of male fertility,” he says, as calmly as if he were discussing the weather. “The seeds representing semen, obviously.”

Dean nearly spits his coffee across the floor.

Rosa glares at him from the receptionist desk.

Dean wheels on Cas, cheeks flaming.

“Dude. You’ve got to be fucking with me.”

“Why?” Castiel asks, keeping a completely straight face. “Don’t you think they resemble testicles?” 

“Jesus, not so damn loud—”

“I’m just telling you your own lore, Dean.”

At that moment, ‘Agent Stills’ turns, giving them the signal. Dean claps Castiel’s arm, looking relieved. 

“Alright, buddy. Go time. Let’s leave the bedroom talk for...the bedroom.” 

Castiel nods soberly, hiding his smile.

“Of course.”

They pass by the receptionist, who gives the three of them the stink-eye as they leave. Castiel leans in, whispering into Dean’s ear.

“Just wait until I tell you about the orgies during Saturnalia.”

"Oh, for the love of—”

#kljkljksljksl #destiel #ficlet #merry christmas #deancas #this is verging on crack #but lmao this has been in my drafts forever #don't get me wrong i love cute mistletoe fics but #the origin of the word is hilarious #established relationship #lbr making out in a closet is very On Brand for these two #my writing

[flappi22]

Endless ways to say ''I love you'' without really saying it by Dean Winchester:

The trenchcoat:

«I said I needed a big win. We got Cas back. That's a pretty damn big win.» (13.06)

There's no normal after that:

«They said I could leave, an hour ago. But where am I even supposed to go? I watched the man I love die. There's no normal after that.» (11.17)

«He's in the corner, back to the wall [...] shattered, hopeless, ALONE.» (15.18 script)

«We lost everything, and now you're gonna bring HIM back.» (13.01)

«But, first, you got to put everything back the way it was. The people, the birds, Cas. You got to bring him back.» (15.19)

«Let me bottom line it for you: I'm not leaving here without you. Understand?» (8.02)

«I don't need to feel like Hell for failing you. Okay? For failing you like I failed every other God forsaken thing that I care about! [...] I did not leave you!» (8.07)

Praying to him, again and again:

«Please man, I need you here.» (9.01)

«I prayed to you Cas, every night!» (8.02)

«Cas, I hope you can hear me.. that wherever you are, it's not too late. I should've stopped you. You're my best friend, but I just let you go. [..] And I -- I forgive you. Of course I forgive you. I'm sorry it took me so long, I'm sorry it took me till now to say it. Cas, I'm -- I'm so sorry.» (15.09)

«I need you.» (8.17)

«What about Cas? He manipulated him. He made him promises. Said "Paradise on Earth," and Cas bought it. And you know what that got him? It got him dead! Now you may be able to forget about that, but I can't!» (13.03)

«Ever since the Mark made Cas go crazy? Ever since I had to bury him in a Ma'lak box?» (15.09)

Holding his face after almost losing him (9.03/11.01):

By protecting him, always:

▶ ANGEL: If you lie to me, Dean Winchester, I will rip your throat out. Where is Castiel?

DEAN: Who's asking?

ANGEL: Try every angel who was ejected from their home.

DEAN: Oh. Oh, well, in that case, I have no clue. (9.01)

▶ ISHIM: «Do it. You blast me away, you'll blast away every angel in the room. I'll survive. Castiel, on the other hand, he's hurt. He might live or he might just end up a bloody smear on the wall. Roll the dice». And Dean lowers his hand, protecting Cas at the cost of his life. (12.10)

▶ (12.23):

«Sorry but I rather have you, cursed or not.» (7.23)

Talking to Mary about John and making the mixtape for Cas:

«He was cute and he knew the words to every Zeppelin song, [..] so when he asked you for your number, you gave it to him.» (12.01)

«It's a gift, you keep those» (12.19)

«There's things, there's people, feelings, that I want to experience differently than I have before. Or maybe even for the first time.» (10.16)

By making the hearth-choice, instead of the smart choice:

SAM: Dean, it's a strong vessel. It's held Cas for years, and we know what he's been through. I'm guessing it can hold Lucifer.

DEAN: "It"? It's not an ''it'', Sam, it's Cas! Cas is family!

Talking about Amara:

«Every bone in my body wants to run her through. Send her back to that hole she crawled out of. But when I’m near her, I don’t know, something happens. I can’t explain it. But to call it desire or love – it’s not that”. (11.13)

Amara to Dean: «Something stops you. Keeps you from having it all. Where are your thoughts?» (11.21)

By thinking about him before anything else:

MIRIAM: Because Bieber in there? He can do almost anything.

DEAN: Anything?

MIRIAM: Oh, sweetie. Almost anything. Castiel, he's dead. All the way dead, because of you. (13.01)

Hugs&soft smiles:

Alcohol abuse/suicidal tendencies/uncontrollable rage after every Cas's death.

«Where were you when I needed to hear it?» - «I was there, where were you?» (6.20)

And, last but not least, the way he looks at him:

«Don't ever change.» (5.04)

Obviously this can't be all, there are a lot of parallels and moments I couldn't put in here, so feel free to add whatever you think it's missing! ❤

#destiel #dean winchester #supernatural #castiel #deanwinchester #deancas #destiel is canon #deanlovescas #and that's how he shows his love #mine

[sortasirius]

“Inherit the Earth” and the Fakeout

Absolutely genius.  Amazing, iconic, legendary, something only our showrunner Andrew Dabb can pull off.

"But Lilly, the episode was so bad!  It was just the brothers, they didn’t look for Cas and Eileen!”

YES.  THAT IS EXACTLY THE POINT.  THIS WAS A FAKE ENDING, THE END OF THE SEASON, NOT OF THE SERIES.

Let’s get into it.

An empty world.  No one left but Sam, Dean, and Jack.

So Dean ran, he somehow managed to pick himself up off the floor of the dungeon and meet up with Sam and Jack.  That jacket was this silent reminder.  Remember what I’ve been saying, Cas has occupied the negative space all season, this is no exception.

Dean can’t look either of them in the face, he’s doing that thing, where his eyes move everywhere BUT where he should look. 

“I couldn’t save anybody.”

Sam couldn’t save the world and Dean couldn’t save the one person that means the world to him.

“Where’s Cas?”

“Dean?”

I think it’s there, in that pause where Dean tries to push down the emotions, continue the fight, not think about the memories he left in the bunker, that Jack realizes what must have happened. Jack is the only one that knows about the deal, he has to know what Cas not being there must mean.

“He saved me.  Billie was coming after us.  Cas summoned the Empty.  It took her...and took him.  Cas is gone.”

This may shock you, but I am GLAD they didn’t talk about Cas, especially with what happens at the end of the episode.  Cas is allowed to just take up unsaid space.  It’s obvious he’s missing with the way they blocked things, obvious he’s missing here.  This whole “oh well they don’t care about Cas because they didn’t talk about him”?  Malarkey.

“Jack I’m sorry.”

Guilt.  Regret.  Pain.  Dean will carry this with him for the rest of his life.  Not only that he lost Cas, but that Sam lost Cas, that Jack lost Cas.

That SHOT, with the distance between Jack and Sam where Cas is SUPPOSED TO BE, and then a zoom out to...THE WORLD.

Okay, as usual, Bucklemming has the subtlety of a sledgehammer lmao.

Jack crying???  Praying to Cas????  Bruh?????

Also it’s just straight-up frightening for everything around my boy to die he is my baby son.

Also not to point out the incredibly obvious, but Dean starts drinking immediately, and continues drinking throughout the whole episode.  Grief arc 2.0 babey.

“We can what, Dean?  There’s no one left to save!  Everybody’s gone!”

“You can’t just give up.”

“What other choice do we have!”

Idk why, but for Sam, who’s the constant, the one who’s always had hope, through everything, through all these years, when he finally says this, when he finally loses his hope?  It hits the hardest.  Sam is the leader, so not only is he grieving the loss of Eileen, he is a general grieving the loss of his soldiers, his friends, the world that he feels the duty to save.

When they go to meet Chuck, I just can’t get that image of Dean, leaning against the car, handprint still on his jacket, staring at the ground out of my head.  It takes him a few seconds to catch up to Sam, like he’s pulled out of thoughts like deep dark water.  Remember friends, it doesn’t have to be loud to be powerful.

Chuck wearing BLACK?  FEAR.

“That’s right, the whole Cain and Abel thing.  Us dead, whatever.  I’ll kill Sam, Sam’ll kill me, we’ll kill each other.  Okay, you pick.  But first?  You gotta put everything back the way it was.  The people, the birds...Cas.  You gotta bring him back.”

Willing to kill his brother.  Willing to die.  Tears in his eyes, begging God to bring Cas back.

And Chuck?  Chuck doesn’t care about their surrender, he knows he’s already got them beaten.  He cares about their pain, he cares about them suffering, because to him?  That’s the entertainment.  He’s not entertained by their found family, by their happiness, by their joy.  He wants them to suffer, all of them.

“Eternal shame.  Suffering.  And loneliness.”

And he leaves them with just that.  No hope, no family, just the three of them, broken, alone.  Jack locked in his bedroom, Sam trying desperately to make life “normal” again.  And Dean.  Dean who drank so much he passed out on the floor.

He doesn’t feel terrific, he feels like shit, because not only is he dealing with the shame of an empty planet, he’s dealing with the guilt of being back in the place where the Empty took Cas.

This whole thing with the dog was just absolutely heartwrenching shit and if I didn’t hate Chuck before, him snapping Miracle right in front of an already fragile Dean would seal that deal.

I just want everyone to know that this is a Jake Abel stan account.

“Daddy’s boy” is a big insult for my boy Dean to use considering his own past with his trash abusive father but I’ll allow it.

I do think it’s interesting, ending of his arc aside, that Michael is willing to help them now.  What changed?  Sure, he ended up trying to help Chuck, running back to his father, but why get back in the game?  I wonder if it has anything to do with the loss of Adam.  It’s an interesting parallel, a man loses his angel while an angel loses his human.

Everything is so DARK in the Bunker now too, even the lighting is loud.

When I tell you I lost my shit when I saw Cas was calling Dean, when I heard Misha’s voice??  I knew it didn’t make any sense but I didn’t care, I would’ve been one step behind Dean as he sprinted towards the door.

Fuck you, Eugenie.

I mean it’s torture not only to Dean, who looks beyond fucking crushed when it’s damn Lucifer at the door, but for us too.  Who the FUCK wanted Lucifer back?  And to tease Cas???  Garbage.

I mean...fam.  Listen, we know who’s writing this episode, this whole Betty thing is just like blatantly unnecessary but again, Eugenie loves Lucifer, gotta distract her with a shiny toy lmao.

It was cool to see Michael and Lucifer onscreen together.  It was a cool dynamic that we rarely got to see.

The whole episode is just twist after twist.  Listen, it’s their last episode so I guess they needed to fit in a season worth of twists in one episode.

Bye Lucifer.  We know Eugenie can’t bring him back.  Blessings to all.

This scene with Adam is the FOURTH scene where Dean is drinking...big yikes to my guy’s liver.

Here’s the thing about Michael.  He’s a mirror for Dean in season 5.  Loyal to an absent father.  He has never changed, but Dean has.  Dean is able to acknowledge now, the trauma that his father put him through, he was able to move past the need for pleasing him at any cost.  Michael and Chuck?  Are John and Dean, if Dean had never been allowed to grow.  And Chuck proves, like John did, that he would always put his wants (in John’s case “the mission”) over his children.

Also not to beat a dead horse but Michael’s death was also peak Eugenie.

Sam getting to punch Chuck in the face?  Thank you, he deserves that.

Obviously I don’t love any scene of my boys getting brutally beaten.  But what I love, what I will always love about them, is what Chuck hates about them:  they won’t ever give up.  They know they won’t win against him, they don’t even land any hits, but that’s not what matters.  What matters is their controller doesn’t control them anymore, that they really are free.  No matter how hard they get hit, the get back up.  It is their choice to stand up to him, no matter the cost.

The moment where Sam and Dean are supporting each other, covered in blood, and they look God in the face, and they laugh.  That is why I will love them unconditionally for the rest of my life.  That is who they are, they will never cow to the villain, whether that’s Azazel or Alastair or Zachariah or Lucifer or Amara or Death or Metatron or Cain or God.  They will always choose to stand up.

“Why are you smiling?”

“Because.  You lose.”

Chills.  What a line.

And Chuck is left, small, human, no longer a villain, no longer anything.

Gotta be real, woulda been nice to, idk, not see all this essential plot in a flashback, but I know I can only ask so much of Bucklemming.

For Dean to walk away from killing Chuck, right after he’s called him “the ultimate killer” is quite simply the most beautifully heartwrenching thing I could ever ask for.  Because that’s who Dean was under Chuck, that’s who Chuck wanted him to be.

And he would have before:

But he’s heard some things since then, heard some things about how others see him.  Not as the killer, not as a monster, not as angry and broken or his daddy’s blunt instrument:

I’m not saying that Dean doesn’t kill Chuck for Cas.  He doesn’t kill Chuck because he doesn’t think he has to anymore, he doesn’t kill Chuck because he listened to Cas, he took Cas’ words to heart.  He made the choice not to be the killer.

“See that’s not who I am, that’s not who we are.”

And Chuck is angry, because he thought, after everything, even after losing, that he would still know Dean well enough to know that he would kill him.  But Chuck has never really known Dean, he has never understood where he’s really come from.  Cas understood, Sam and Jack understand, but Chuck never did, and writing off Dean as angry and broken is his biggest mistake, because that’s never been Dean.

“It’s not his power anymore.”

And it’s not just his physical power, it’s his power over the story, over the boys that’s the real power taken from him.

For Jack to be the one to bring everyone back, for him to be the hero of the story?  That’s poetic right there.  Now, I will say, I don’t think this story ends with him as God, because for him, the child, to take on this burden, it doesn’t make a ton of sense to me for his arc, but we shall see next week.  It felt pretty tied up, but there’s one major loose end: and that’s Jack seeing Cas again.

“Just you and me, going wherever the story takes us.  Just us.”

“Finally free.”

This doesn’t feel triumphant to me, it doesn’t feel like relief.  It feels like they’ve settled, like this is the best they’re going to get, so they might as well make the best of it, at least they have each other.

For Cas and Jack to be carved into the table?  I cry.

And for the montage, very similar to “Swan Song” to be set to “Runnin on Empty”?  Sorry but that’s just too sus to be ignored.

They packaged this episode as an ending, because for many, it might be.  The season’s story, the season about fighting Chuck is over.  So, you might be asking (or, well, screaming, judging by my replies lol), what’s left?  And that’s a good question, Chuck has been defeated, so what is left?  What’s left is what’s really mattered all season: the relationships that have been crafted over the years.  Dean and Sam’s unhappiness at the end of the episode, where “just you and me” sounded more of a grudging acceptance than anything else, is one of the clues that has to be looked at.  Why didn’t Sam find Eileen, why didn’t Jack bring back Cas?  Those two characters specifically are the ones we need to watch out for.  As I’ve said over and over again, peace, contentment, satisfaction, those don’t come from Sam and Dean on the open road together anymore.  They have a family, more of a family than they did when they started hunting together all those years ago, and that family is what holds them together.  They need each other, of course, but each other isn’t enough anymore.  Sam needs Eileen, Dean needs Cas.  That is where they will find their peace.

This episode, as many written by Bucklemming was sloppy, rushed, packed full of shit, and had little gems that we can talk about forever, but that was the end of the season, and next week?  Andrew Dabb brings us home, where Dean and Sam will finally be able to choose what they want for themselves, and that, my friends, is Eileen and Cas.

#supernatural #spn #spoilers #my meta #spn 15x19 #destiel #saileen

[mindninjax]

Iron and Wine (3)

Chapter 3- Lovely Bitter Water

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter

Erwin Smith x fem!reader (Royalty AU)

Warnings: Erwin can't keep his fucking hands to himself, sexual tension, some dirty talk, nightmares,

WC: 3.5K

a/n: Be wary of the warnings on this one just in case anyone is uncomfortable with it. But This chapter contains humor and sexual tension and by far was my favorite chapter to write so far.

The high stone ceiling peels away above you to show the sky. It is clear and dark, save for a thousand twinkling lights, the souls of those you’ve lost shining down upon you. You blink, once, twice, as the wind tickles your skin and dances merrily through your hair. There is a warm pale glow above you and your mind is wandering into the cosmos as you feel a pair of cool lips on your forehead. A glowing ball of white light beckons to you as you sit up and gaze around the swaying tall grass around you.

This is a dream.

You stand, the dress you’re wearing swaying with the wind like a synchronized dance. The air smells clean and fresh, like the trees back home. You take a step forward, smiling to yourself and basking in the white light shining down on you. The moon sits large on the horizon across the field you’re in and fills you with joy as you skip freely toward it. You laugh and it rings out into the field like a carol of bells.

You’re stopped in your tracks as a large white hoof stomps in front of you. The ground shakes from the impact and you can see it start to crumble. You look up and there is a beast with the face of a goat and the body of a man sitting atop the saddle. It’s eyes are blacker than an abyss, staring at you blankly. They’re cold, sucking the very life from you.

Suddenly the wind stops and it is deathly silent. The air no longer smells fresh and clean but reeks of rotten flesh. You whip your head around fear creeping up the back of your neck as the clear night sky forms dark stormy clouds above your head. The sky bursts open with an ear splitting crack and wailing misery from above can be heard. It is earth shattering, rumbling the world and making your ears bleed.

Horrific images flash before your eyes in quick succession. Animals' skin and bone disintegrate in his presence. When he dismounts from his horse the land dies beneath his feet and when he takes a step blood stains the earth.

You scream but the sound is stolen and swallowed by the darkness he brings. The last thing you see before it takes over you completely, is the beast opening his mouth, a sinister crooked smile on his lips as he utters the words “I have come and with me I bring death.”

You awake with a gasp and shoot up in the large bed. Your vision is blurred as the remnants of the dream fade away and the bright morning light breaks through the haze. It takes you a few minutes to recognize your surroundings, but it comes flying back to you when you see Historia lying peacefully next to you in bed.

You are in the wolf king’s castle, acting as what he refers to as a “guest” when really you are his prisoner. Historia helped you take a bath last night, washed your hair and dressed you in a light but extravagant sleeping gown. When it was time to retire for the night, she’d bowed to you and asked to be excused. Remembering how fond she was of the room, you’d suggested she stay here with you and sleep. It might’ve been a bit selfish on your part, her presence was calming and her soft breath next to your ear was the only thing that lulled you into slumber.

But that dream almost certainly was a warning. You’d prayed for clarity before you went to sleep and the Mother provided. However, you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t woken up more confused than before. What was she trying to tell you? If Erwin Smith was in fact the enemy, the bringer of destruction and death, why did Her whispers stay your blade?

You shut your eyes tightly, put your index finger and thumb together while intertwining your other fingers and kiss the tip before bowing your head. “Forgive me Mother. I do not understand what it is I’m supposed to do. Erwin Smith is the enemy, so how do I stop him and save your children?” You whisper quietly under your breath.

A bubbling warmth pools in your gut when you think about the Wolf King and you don’t like the way it makes your heart thrum in your chest like a caged bird. You don’t understand what part he’s to play, whether you should trust him or not. But one thing is for certain, The Mother does not want him dead. You roll your eyes before getting off the bed and walking to the window to open the heavy curtains and let in the sun’s warmth.

Historia still sleeps peacefully on the bed, her even breathing occasionally interrupted by soft snores. You smile as you watch her, curled up on the bed, innocent and lovely. Perhaps you were wrong to think you couldn’t trust any of the people in the castle. As you watch the bustling people below from the window, you take a deep breath and make your decision. The only people who have actually shown you their true selves are Erwin and the little dog he keeps next to him. Which means, the only ones you have to distrust right now are those two. It would make for an easier time if you were being forced to stay here.

Then it’s settled, you’ll be cordial to the others and keep your guard up around Erwin and his knight. He may think you’ll agree to his plan, but you won’t. The fact that you can’t kill him is bothersome but you can definitely take this time to learn more about how he rules and bring that viable information back to your people.

Two quick knocks on the door draw your eyes away from the people below and your body instantly crouches into defense. You shake your head, trying to break the automatic defensive edge that is built into your character. Cordial and pleasant. That’s what you need to be. A nervous voice on the other side of the door calls out.

“Good Morning my lady, King Erwin demands your presence in the council room.”

You squint your eyes in frustration. Demands?

You wrench the door open to see the tall farm pup man standing before you. He jumps a bit at the sudden swing of the door and his eyes drift down your body before he turns red and looks away nervously. You don’t realize how thin the garment you’re wearing is. Your nipples bead in the cool air in the chamber and a breeze flows through your legs making it cling to your curves. You smile a little to yourself at his obvious embarrassment.

“You’re one of the knights he sent to stand outside my door, yes? To make sure I don’t run off?” you say, raising an eyebrow.

He still doesn’t look at you, but nods his head and says “Yes my lady.”

“I see, and you are Ser…?”

“Moblit my lady. Umm if you don’t mind me saying, maybe you would feel more comfortable in more appropriate attire? The King is demanding I escort you to the council chamber at once,” he says again.

You study him for a bit. He’s cute with warm trusting eyes. You can tell he’s not faking how nervous he seems to be around you but if you were to guess why Erwin would keep someone like him around, he’s probably levelheaded on the battlefield. You do raise your eyebrow in frustration at his use of the word “demands” again but you clear your throat and look at him.

“Well, thank you for guarding the door Ser Moblit,” you say bowing to him.

You smile brightly at him as he’s caught off guard by your pleasant attitude. He blushes again when you complete the bow and gaze back into his large brown eyes. You can hear Historia yawning and waking up behind you. You hear her little gasp as she jumps out of bed and runs to the door, mortified at the way you’re dressed in front of Moblit.

“You can’t just answer the door dressed like that! It’s indecent!” she squeaks, trying to cover you as you laugh warm heartedly at her. The last thing you say to him before Historia pulls you back into the room and shuts the door is “Please tell the King to get fucked in the ass by his horse before he demands anything of me again.”

Erwin lifts his clear eyes from the scroll of parchment at the sound of the heavy doors opening. The sound echoes loudly around the room creating a grand entrance. He stops scribbling and peaks an eyebrow when he sees only one person entering the council room. Moblit clears his throat uncomfortably as he approaches. All eyes are on him as he bows respectfully avoiding the King’s gaze.

Erwin speaks calmly, no hint of frustration in his voice. “Moblit, why is my guest not with you?”

Moblit bows again before responding, “My apologies sire, she...refused to come.”

“Really now? Did she give a reason why?” He asks as if he’s unbothered with the disobedience.

“N..no sire.”

Erwin smiles to himself, thumping his long fingers on the large wooden table. Of course you wouldn’t come. This is exactly what he expected. If you had shown up, that would’ve been too easy and not your style. “Not giving a reason certainly doesn’t sound like something the silver tongued little lioness would do. Come, tell me her words.”

“S..she requested that your majesty… ahem… be fucked in the ass by your horse,” Moblit stutters and shifts his eyes and it looks like it physically pains him to say this to his King. The room goes silent, Hange tries to keep a snicker in, Levi growls underneath his breath, and the others watch Erwin carefully.

He looks back down to his parchment and continues scribbling. “Nifa.” He says not looking up as he continues to write. Nifa jumps at the sound of her name. She sits in the corner of the room, large rolls of parchment are draped over the side of the small table she sits at. “Yes, Your Grace?”

“Is there anything on the roster after sunset?”

Nifa shuffles through the parchment as her eyes scan over the schedule. “No, Your Grace.”

“Excellent. Please add ‘fuck my horse’ to the roster for just after nightfall. Thank you.”

Hange’s snicker erupts into laughter as Nifa scribbles in the addition and Erwin smirks to himself.

You sit in front of the large vanity mirror, the candles dripping wax down the candle holder. You stare into the fire, daydreaming of leaving this place as the last remnants of sunlight become swallowed by the horizon. You’ve been cooped up in this room all day, refusing all who came to the door with food and gifts of clothes from the King.

“I still can’t believe you told Ser Moblit to tell the King that. I’ve never heard anyone speak like that about His Highness,” Historia says nervously as she brushes your hair. You’re holding a silver goblet full of wine that was brought up to your room, a peace offering, the woman who’d given it to you said. It wouldn’t be here if not for Historia asking to sample it. It’s true you’ve taken a very intense liking to Historia. She truly feels like your only friend here.

You sniff the wine and wrinkle your nose in disgust. It smells processed and fake, not at all like the wine Carla makes back home. Erwin must think you a fool. As if you’d drink something he’d present to you as a gift. It could be poisoned.

You set the cup down as Historia moves to braid intricate little braids at the crown of your head and let the rest flow freely down your back.

“Well, you’ve never left this castle. Outside these walls, the people don’t speak fondly of your king,” you scold her.

“Why not? King Erwin has done nothing but help me since he found me in my village,” she says seriously.

“What do you mean?” You turn around to gaze at her in confusion. It has occurred to you that you haven’t asked her anything about herself and it saddens you. Your gaze softens as you look at her and she smiles her bright smile at you before a firm knock on your door makes the both of you jump.

“Don’t,” she says, putting a hand in front of you to stop you from moving. “We don’t need a repeat of this morning. You probably almost killed Moblit. Put this on I’ll get the door for you,” she says handing you a silk robe to cover the thin nightgown you wear.

You chuckle as she walks to the door and opens it warily. You hear her squeak in surprise and turn to see her bowing lowly and Erwin pushing the door open and stepping into the room. You stand quickly, pulling the robe up over your arms and glaring as he enters.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” he says warmly to Historia. She blushes and shakes her head quickly, her blonde locks hitting her cheeks.

“No, Your Grace. My lady was just getting ready to sleep for the night,” she replies, still holding the door, face full of shock.

Erwin’s eyes rake up and down your figure and he smiles that cocksure smile he’s famous for. “Yes, I can see that. Historia, would you mind giving me and the Lioness a moment of privacy?” he asks, bending down to take her hand into both of his.

You’re steaming, grinding your teeth as you watch Historia’s face grow pink and she nods wordlessly to him. “No! Historia stays with me. Whatever you have to say, you can say in front of her.” You step between her and the door and she looks nervously between you and him. He gives her a knowing look and she scurries past you, whispering in your ear quickly. “I’ll be back when he leaves.”

When she closes the door quietly behind her, you glare up at Erwin who continues smiling warmly at you. “I see you’re not a fan of the wine I had sent up for your pleasure,” he says walking to the vanity and picking up the goblet. He takes a sip, then closes his eyes and relishes in the sweet taste. “This is the best wine in the entire kingdom, made specifically for the King.” You curl your lip up in disgust.

“It tastes that way. Like it was only meant to please you. It lacks the care, the love for the vine and fruit that you would be able to taste in each sip,” you explain, rolling your eyes. Not like he would understand anyway. A spoiled king with servants to do his every bidding would never understand the time and care it takes to produce good wine.

“Hmm I suppose it does,” he says, eyeing you curiously. You can tell he’s enjoying this, the way his sneaky sapphire eyes move slowly up your body, lingering on the spread of your hips and the curve of your breast. You turn away from him in disgust.

“Why are you here?”

He feigns shock, eyes growing wide and he puts a hand to his chest. “Why, my lady, I thought you summoned me here. Surely I didn’t misinterpret Moblit’s message.”

Confusion floods your face as you squint and question his sanity. “Are you mad? I told Ser Moblit no such thing,” you say, shaking your head.

“Hmm, I thought for sure being fucked by my own horse was some kind of coded message. It is quite sudden I will admit but I have had many who crave me and I will not tell a lie, I am fascinated by what is beneath your lovely gown,” he says casually walking over to stand in front of you and smile down smugly.

You can feel your face heating at the insinuation. As if you’d ever invite him to your room, least of all for that. You sputter a bit before quickly retorting, “Is that what you tell all the women you try to seduce into a pact with you? I am not that weak and I have met many who were worth craving.”

You see the shock flash across his face and return his smug smile. His expression turns dark then and he lowers his voice and moves so close to you that you can smell the lingering scent of the wine he sipped.

“Do not continue to insult me. Your snide comments are only as entertaining as I continue to allow them to be. You would’ve been dead a long time ago were it not for the way I enjoy your tongue sliding over your lips while you say them,” he breathes and the warmth envelops you and makes your head a bit dizzy.

You keep your composure though, opting to continue to tease and make him as uncomfortable as he made you. You’re determined to expose his weakness and walk out of this castle vowing to destroy him and everything he holds dear.

“A shame that even the great Wolf King can be brought to his knees by a woman,” you reply sarcastically.

“Forgive me, but you are mistaking a fleeting lust-filled gaze for something more. I shall not kill you until we’ve come to an agreement, that or...I have at least tasted you upon my lips. And once I have—and I will one day—the fascination will cease. But until then, enjoy your stay in my castle and please read over the document I’ve provided. I am sure it will help with your decision.”

Your hand is itching to slap him across his chiseled jaw. You crane your hand back quickly but he catches it and throws you against the nearest wall. He pins you against it with his large body looming over you, the hand you were about to use to slap him pinned above your head and the other at your side. He tightens his grip on your wrists, a thick muscular thigh wedged between yours, partaking in the warmth radiating from your cunt.

“You’d dare to strike your king?” He grunts in a husky voice as you struggle in his grasp. His breath washes over you again as he cranes his neck down to drink in your scent.

“You are not my king,” you hiss through your teeth.

“Ahh there is the fierceness that makes my cock weep. A true lioness. Breaking you will be the greatest victory I’ve ever tasted. ”

You’re ashamed at how his words affect you. He pushes his thigh ever so slightly up against your folds and you gasp as his cock twitches against your thigh. He stares into your eyes, half lidded as his breathing increases.

His musk strangely reminds you of home, it’s woody and spicy like roasted chestnuts during the Celestial Ides festival. Hints of rose linger around the edges and you try very hard not to be drawn in by it. Your face burns as his eyes shift down to your lips and he leans in to brush his against your neck.

His lips are surprisingly soft and he’s very skilled at swiping them against your collarbone and up your jaw in such a way that would have you pleading for more if it were not him. You shudder and hold in the moan that desperately craves to be released before wriggling in his grasp to try and free yourself. Your hand moves to the tiny hidden slit you made in the robe when Historia wasn’t looking.

He moves gently up to your jaw, dragging his lips over your soft skin. He only stops when he feels a cool sharp prick right beneath his rib cage.

“Let. Me. Go. Or I’ll carve out your heart and feed it to your dogs,” you say between clenched teeth and heavy sensual breaths. You push the dagger harder into his side and it pricks through the fabric of his shirt, drawing blood.

He chuckles and releases his hold on you, stepping back with his hands raised in surrender. He pulls a rolled up piece of parchment from the inside of his loose sleeves and places it onto the vanity before saying, “I should’ve known you’d have a weapon hidden on your person. I guess you’ve become a bigger distraction to me than I previously assumed.”

You wipe your neck and face where his lips were in disgust, holding the dagger and crouching ready to spring should he come closer to you.

“Get out. And do not ever touch me again.”

He only smiles a warm hearted smile, as if nothing has happened and walks to the door to open it.

“Until next time, my lady,” and shuts the door quietly behind him.

--

taglist: @lazyezstudy @jeanbeaux @ixwrites @melyannathemaia @forlancasterrr @starstruckkittensweets @charlotteplsdosth @mythical-goth @casspea @saturnalya @neptvnia @mrs-kuroojinguji

Strikethrough means tumblr won’t let me tag! I’m sorry

#erwin smith x reader #erwin x reader #erwin smith #erwin x you #iron and wine #marquie writes

[vibesandwonders]

And every moment precious

“I don’t think I want to be god anymore”

Jack appears in their kitchen with a sigh that seems to come from his shoes.

He doesn’t notice how Cas has Dean crowded against the counter, his fingers threaded through Dean’s hair, neck exposed, Dean’s hands midway through working Cas’ jeans off.

He barely manages to bite off a particularly potent string of words, Cas eyes him and clears his throat, Dean tries not to sigh just as deeply.

Oblivious, their son sits heavily and places his head in his hands.

Cas glances at Dean; begins blowing out the candles, sliding the chocolate covered strawberries back into their packaging, looking apologetically at Dean who nods in agreeable resignation.

8 days.

8 of the best days of his whole damn life.

Dean mentally notes that they might have to talk to Sam about customizing some sort of perimeter warning spell.

Especially, since most of their acquaintances and their god-son can just pop in at any moment. Sure, he’s gotten pretty chill about people knowing that he and Cas live together, work together, sleep in the same bed, but he’s not sure how he feels about the possibility of Jack walking into… something else.

It’s not like he can suggest cooling off their current schedule of fucking on every surface in their house (it’s unthinkable really); not to mention Cas would be absolutely against it.

“Uh,” Dean yanks on his jeans and thinks of dead animals, naked Zachariah...

“What’s going on Jack?”

Cas is already standing; moving to brew coffee, fingers brushing the side of Dean’s face as he does. The hunter tilts and kisses his fingers on the way past, surprising a wide smile out of the Angel.

How in the hell could Dean Winchester deserve this?

Cas catches his gaze and points at Jack, who still hasn’t raised his head,

Focus.

“It’s just…very boring.” Jack replies pitifully,

Cas stares nonplussed at Dean across the top of Jack’s head. He mouths something in confusion and Cas points intensely at Jack.

“Uh, wait, what?”

Jack sighs and looks up, “All I do is listen to people talk. All the time. Amara says… so much—“ Jack’s smile is sudden and large. “She is very smart, so much better at this than I am, and Rowena brings snacks sometimes to the meetings, Billie gives amazing advice, almost as good as you Dean—” He shakes his head with surety, “I think they should be god instead, Then, I can come home, and live with you… Now that you and Cas are… married?”

A spoon clatters into the sink, Cas bends to fish it out, Dean’s coughing in surprise and checking out his ass simultaneously.

Priorities.

“Oh uh… buddy— Jack…” He clears his throat nervously, he wasn’t built for this kind of conversation. Cas is suddenly busy watering the succulents in the window. The way he tips his head though, Dean knows he’s listening.

Coward.

“Me and Cas— we are just—“

“Having intercourse?” Jack’s chin drops, eyebrows knit together.

Dean chokes, his face going through every possible emotion in the next few seconds, “No uh— well—“ Cas twists around and shakes his head adamantly, “You see—“

Jack is gleefully two steps ahead and clearly proud that he is leading the conversation, “When two people love each other very much— we talked, the talk. Birds and Bees, Remember?”

“Oh god— No.” Dean puts his hand out firmly, “No— that’s not—we— uh, you and me, we uh, had that conversation one time. No repeat performance, no encores, Jack, Cas and I—We are uh—“

“Living together.” Castiel inserts, taking a seat next to Dean, handing him a cup of decaf with a reassuring smile, palm on Dean’s thigh. “Dean and I are, living together.”

Dean gazes at the man beside him, Cas wrinkles his brow at the attention; Dean’s lips are already quirking into the fondest of smiles, debating making out with him right there in front of Jack. Cas sees the intent and shakes his head imperceptibly.

“In sin.” Jack interrupts brightly, “Living together in sin.”

Their heads rotate in comedic tandem, “Fuckin’ hell—“ Dean sputters, knocking into his coffee mug,

Cas catches the mug with inhuman speed, sighing, “Dean please, don’t swear in front of—“

“I know— I know.” Dean’s pretty sure swearing is the least of their problems right now, he steels himself, “Now listen Jack, me and Cas, we are uh, we’re happy, and we’re in love… and shit.” He mumbles, can’t look at Cas right now, he just feels the intensity of his eyes and the sheer affection cascading through their bond; tries to fight the way his ears turn red every damn time the Angel looks his way.

“Well… I mean, you’re god, so I guess, it’s kinda your call anyway—“ Cas squeezes his thigh tighter, Christ he’s strong, that is so hot… Focus.

“Right, right, right, um, so it’s— No sin. We are…great.”

“Oh.” Jack purses his lips thoughtfully and nods, “But you have always been in love? How is this different from before?”

“Well huh,” Dean chuckles, blows a breath through his lips, casts a quick glance at Cas, “It isn’t, I guess, not really, it looks like I’m… just a little slow on the uptake,” He sips his coffee, if only to stop himself from talking,

“Dumb of ass.” Jack agrees.

Dean nods in agreement and then frowns. “Don’t swear, and that’s sorta… hurtful. But yeah, I guess.”

“So I can come live here?”

Cas leans closer. “Jack, you can always stay here with us, for as long as you wish, of course—and if you truly wish to renounce your godhood, it is your choice.“ He peers suddenly, “Are you lonely?”

“I miss how it was.” He says simply,

Cas nods in serious agreement, understanding immediately in a way that Dean can only observe.

“Nostalgia is powerful," He says gently, "And we did have good times, the best times.” He ponders his words, Dean leans very slightly until his shoulder brushes against Cas’ and watches his angel do what he has always done best: love.

“You are not wrong for finding solace in those memories, I have often found comfort during my hardest battles,” He chooses his words carefully, pausing between each and savoring the power of them, “In remembering good times with the people… I love.” He spares a momentary glance at Dean, “But it is unhealthy to make your future decisions entirely based on memories.”

“So you think I should be god?”

Cas' smile falters, and shakes his head, “I think, that you are a good god. You are kind, fair, and hopeful. No matter your choice you will have a home with me—“ He looks to Dean, who nods, “With us.”

He reaches out and takes Jack’s hand, “I also think, that part of Chuck’s weakness was his loneliness. We saw it manifest itself in ways that hurt the ones he loved: his family. I do not ever wish you to be lonely. I wish for you to choose what you think is best for you, Jack. Life is not about destiny. It is about doing the best you can with the time given.”

Dean clears his throat, noting the Gandalf quote before adding, “Plus, nobody said you can’t be god from our backyard right?”

Cas frowns, processing what Dean is offering. Dean continues, mostly because Cas hasn’t interrupted with an argument, yet.

“You uh, you said you wanted to be more hands off— and that’s cool and all, but if you want to change your mind, and be part of the world too… I don’t think anyone can stop you. At the end of the day, this isn’t a pass/fail decision, okay?”

He stands and pats Jack on the head, kisses Cas on the cheek. “You two keep talkin’, I’m gonna go put sheets on the spare bed.”

New fluff here

If you liked it, be sure to check

Out the rest of the Lil series of domestic one-shots :)

#dean x castiel #dean winchester #destiel #established destiel #we deserve a soft epilogue my love #domestic destiel #castiel #jack kline #supernatural fic #spn fanfiction

[norahastuff]

Bucklemming really Bucklemming-ed us on the way out didn’t they? I might just be nostalgic about the show ending, but it’s weirdly comforting knowing that even after all this time, they’re still doing what they do best. Namely giving us somewhat disjointed, plot filled episodes that explore interesting themes and story points, but in which the execution often leaves something to be desired. You do you BL, you do you. 

There was some good stuff in there, like Chuck’s ending. Yes the info dump about how they defeated him was a little clunky but his actual ending itself felt appropriate for such a meta season of such a meta show. Chuck ends the show de-powered, forced to live the Joan Osborne song, and just be one of us for the rest of his frail human life. It’s not “death of the author” so much as it is the author is now forced to be a spectator just like us, and have the same input into the story that we do. He doesn’t get to control it anymore.

I also appreciate that Chuck didn’t learn or repent or have a big Hallelujah moment. How could he? He was all mighty and all powerful, not to mention cruel and capricious. The past few seasons have repeatedly emphasised the concept of “the scale of power” and how the more powerful the being, the less significant they consider the beings beneath them. Only those with a connection to humanity, like Jack, Amara and of course Cas, are able to understand and find the right way. Even Michael lost his connection to humanity in this episode, Adam was no longer with him. Chuck didn’t have any kind of real connection - but oh boy does he now! Enjoy being an insignificant human with a God complex and no bank account Chuck!

The other thing that I found interesting was Dean. Chuck refers to him as “Dean Winchester - the ultimate killer.” Just last episode, Dean saw himself the same way:

Because I was angry and because I just needed something to kill, and because that's all I know how to do.

But then something happened. Cas happened. He told him it wasn’t anger that drove him, it was love. He didn’t need to give in to his anger, he didn’t need to be a killer. Loving Dean is what taught Cas how to care about the whole world, and if Dean changed Cas, then Cas changed Dean too.

This also shows that Dean has actually internalised what Cas told him. The whole speech about who Dean really is and how Cas sees him, in the moment he couldn’t understand or process it, but by the end of this episode, he has. He leans into the version of himself that Cas told him he is. And if he has accepted that part of what Cas told him, there’s also a certain three word, eight letter confession that he has perhaps accepted too.

Also this part is just for my own sanity but in 13x01, Dean pleading with God: 

“we’ve lost everything, and now you’re going to bring him back.”

15x19

You’re going to put everything back the way it was. The people, the birds, Cas! You gotta bring him back.

(Just so you know, I’m resisting the urge to make a terrible, in Dean’s logic people + birds = angel joke) 

Yes he lost everything both times, but Cas is always different. I always go back to 7x17 and Dean’s conversation with Emmanuel

I used to be able to just shake this stuff off. You know, whatever it was. It might take me some time, but... I always could. What Cas did... I just can't – I don't know why.

Why is it always different with Cas? Dean never answered that question. Maybe now he finally will.

#spn meta #15x19 #dean winchester #Chuck #destiel #my spn thoughts #spn s15 spoilers #supernatural

[imagineteamfreewill]

Imagine Robbing Dean’s Cabin

Pairing: Robber!Reader x Dean

Word Count: 1,510

Warnings: None

Square Filled: Robber!Reader

Summary: The reader finds what she thinks to be the perfect hit, but it turns out to be less than perfect.

A/N: This is a submission for the 2020-2021 SPN AU Bingo (@spnaubingo​). Please let me know what you think, and enjoy!

X

_______________

“Perfect,” you murmured, and you shifted on the tree branch to get a better look at the cabin. It was empty, just like it had been for the past three months, which made it the perfect hit. You’d been craving a good robbery ever since you’d gotten into town. You were supposed to be getting out of the life, but old habits die hard.

Silently, you climbed down from your perch and slipped between the shadows of the massive fir trees. The ground was blanketed with fallen pine needles and you sent up a prayer of thanks. They kept your footsteps quiet, making it easier to sneak towards your mark, not that that mattered when the cabin hadn’t been used in months.

You were halfway through the kitchen window in the back of the house—some idiot had left it unlocked—when the light flipped on. A man was standing in the doorway, and he had a gun trained on you. It had been a long time

“How do you feel about cops?” he asked, his voice low.

You inhaled sharply, frozen in place as you frantically tried to figure out the best way out of this. You could back out of the window and risk being shot while you tried to escape, or you could climb the rest of the way in and face the man head-on.

“They’re not my favorite,” you finally responded after he raised an eyebrow at you. Slowly, you lowered yourself onto the kitchen counter.

“Me neither,” he replied. He cocked the gun and you glanced towards the nearby door. It led out onto the back porch, which was a straight shot into the thickest part of the forest. If you could only make it there, you had a pretty good chance of coming out of this unscathed.

He gestured with the gun towards the plain kitchen table nearby. When you didn’t move, he took a step towards you and his upper lip curled as he growled out, “Sit.”

Your mouth grew dry and you swallowed hard as you crossed the short distance between you and the nearest chair. It creaked when you lowered yourself into it.

“What’s your name?” the man asked. When you didn’t answer, his jaw clenched and his eyes flickered dangerously. “What’s your—“

“Amy,” you murmured.

“Bullshit.”

You stared at him, pressing your lips together. Who did he think you were, an idiot? No one with any common sense would give their real name after being caught in the middle of robbing a house.

“Listen, I’m not in a good mood, so you’d better stop lying to me. I’m not a person you want to make angry,” he ground out. Though the kitchen was well illuminated, his face was still half in the shadow provided by the hallway, and you suppressed a shiver as fear slid into the back of your mind.

“I wasn’t going to hurt you or anything,” you told him. “I was just gonna take a look around, see if there was anything of value. If you let me go, I promise I won’t come back. You’ll never see me again.”

“There’s nothing valuable here.”

“Great, then let me—“

“No. Stand up,” he ordered. You stayed in your seat until he stepped closer and held the gun to your head.

“Whoa, hey!” you cried, but you got to your feet. This was not turning out the way you’d hopped and your heart was thundering in your chest as the man led you towards the living room. He turned on that light too, then prodded you towards a faded couch against the main wall. You sunk down onto the middle cushion and stared up at him, holding your breath.

“I’m not gonna hurt you if you cooperate,” he told you, and you nodded weakly, exhaling heavily. “Do you do this often? Rob people?”

You shook your head, then thought better of it and murmured, “Not recently.”

“Explain.”

Taking a deep breath, you clutched your hands together and tried to keep your voice from shaking as you told him about the man who’d first coerced you to help him rob someone, and then how it had become something of an addiction. You hadn’t been able to go more than a few days without sneaking into someone’s house or a business to find something that would give you the same adrenaline rush. After a close call that left you in the hospital and your partner six feet under, you’d moved to the tiny town of Evergreen Falls, Montana. You’d been hoping it would be the perfect place to recuperate and find a new hobby, but you’d been wrong. You’d seen this cabin and it had only worsened the itch that nothing seemed to scratch.

“So what was your plan, exactly? You’d just rob me and then go back to living your cute little life in town, and everything would be great? You wouldn’t feel the need to steal anything else ever again?”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were an expert,” you scoffed. If you were being honest, that had been the plan, but when he put it the way he did, you realized that you’d been stupid. Of course you wouldn’t have been able to go back to living a normal life after robbing this place. You would’ve gotten the buzz of adrenaline back and never wanted anything else ever again. Nothing could replace it. You’d tried.

The man stared at you for another moment before the corner of his lips quirked up in a smile. Silently, he uncocked the gun, flipped on the safety, and tucked it under his shirt.

“What if I told you I had a business proposal for you?”

“I don’t typically do business with people who hold me at gunpoint,” you said, keeping your arms crossed over your chest. “And definitely not after they mock me. I know I don’t make the best life decisions, but I don’t need people making fun of me for them.”

He kept silent and stared at you intently, and you shifted uncomfortably under his steady gaze. Finally, you uncrossed your arms and got to your feet.

“Can I go or are you gonna shoot me if I try to leave?” you asked.

He shrugged. “Don’t tell me you aren’t at least curious. You rob places for the adrenaline, right? I can promise you that the rush is ten times better in my line of business, and you actually help people.”

You hesitated, glancing between him and the front door. He was right—you were curious. Quietly, you sized the man up. He was broad-shouldered and he stood tall, and the way he moved stealthily as he walked proved that he was used to sneaking around. You hadn’t even noticed his presence in the cabin until he’d announced himself, and you’d been watching the place on and off for months now. A big part of you wanted to know how he’d managed that, even if you didn’t end up doing business with him. You were an observant person and not much got past you.

“Alright,” you said. “I’ll bite. What is this business proposal?”

“I need someone to help me take something,” he replied.

You rolled your eyes. “Obviously, or you wouldn’t be talking to the person who just tried to rob you. What exactly would you need my help with and why should I help you?”

He glanced towards the kitchen and you waited patiently. Clearly, the man was caught between telling you some sort of lie and telling you the whole truth. 

“My brother and I need to break into a museum and steal a painting.”

“Is it a money thing? A kinky thing?”

His ears turned red. “What? No!”

“Then what is it? Are you thieves? Is someone paying you to bring it to them?”

He shook his head and sighed, running a hand through his hair. “We have to destroy it. If we don’t, more people are going to get hurt.”

You raised an eyebrow and crossed your arms over your chest again. This guy was crazy. “Right.”

“I know it sounds bad—”

“Oh, do you? Good, I was worried you didn’t!”

He sighed again. The man looked up towards the ceiling for a long moment, mumbling to himself before finally saying, “Sit down. I’ve gotta give you the talk if you’re ever gonna take this seriously.”

“I’ve already had the talk, thanks. My parents were pretty specific when it came to the whole birds-and-the-bees thing.”

“It’s a different talk. Just sit down, alright?” He gestured to the couch behind you. 

After a moment of thought, you reluctantly lowered yourself back down again. The man took a seat in a worn green chair that faced the couch and rested his elbows on his knees, leaning towards you.

“Promise me you’ll wait until I’m done to ask any questions,” he said, and you stared blankly at him in response. “Just promise?”

“Fine, I promise.”

“Okay. So my brother and I, we work together…”

_______________

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