#dean could have done everything perfectly and one of them STILL could have died

[soaringeag1e]

Escape {58}

Detective!Dean x Victim!Reader

Warnings: Language, Nightmare, Prisons, Inmates?? I seriously just don’t know anymore...

Words: 2,504

Series Masterlist - Main Masterlist - Patreon

The morgue was never a place Dean wanted to be. Hell, no one ever wanted to be there, but it was just part of the job. Identifying victims, finding out how they died, how long they’ve been deceased, what was in their systems and anything else that could tie them to their killer. This part of the hospital was just inevitable.

It was always a gloomy and heavy place to be but for some reason this time, it felt different. Dean felt colder than normal. On top of that, he felt more anxious and he didn’t understand why. There was no one else around and yet he felt as if he were being watched and his instincts were just telling him that something wasn’t right. He wasn’t one to turn away just because something didn’t feel right, though. That was never something he did. But as he approached the gurney in the room, that sinking feeling just got heavier and heavier. The weight of whatever his gut was trying to warn him about was beginning to be unbearable, but he pushed forward anyway and reached out for the sheet. 

His fingers shook but he pressed on, curling them around the generic hospital sheet and pulling it down to see who the latest victim was. It was then that he understood why he felt so uncomfortable.

“No…” There you were, cold and blue, lying lifeless on the coroner's slab. “No.” he cries, this time unable to hide his emotions as he looks down at you. His hand gently slides along the side of your face, pushing back your knotted hair as he blinks away tears.

“Why? This can’t be…why?” he chokes, unable to stop the questions from pouring out. He’s lost, confused and in more pain than he can bear. His forehead meets yours and a tear falls onto your cheek from his, but that was about to be the least of his worries.

“Dean.” The soft voice is barely heard and for how much he wished it was yours, he knew it wasn’t. Sniffling back his emotions, he forces himself to part from you and look around the room but sees nothing. He’s still all by himself, alone with the woman he loved. 

But before he can turn his attention back to his dead fiance, a figure slowly appears in the same doorway he came in not too long ago and it only takes a few seconds for that figure to become clear enough to recognize.

Honestly, seeing this person is a blessing because Dean now knows that none of this is real. This is just another one of those terrible nightmares that have started to plague him again.

As the woman strolls into the room with slow strides, Dean pulls himself together a bit more, repeating to himself that this isn’t real and that you’re perfectly fine sleeping next to him in the real world.

“Cassie. You look good.” he compliments, and she really does. She looks just as she did before she died. No scars, no bruises, no blood. She was perfect. But unlike real life Cassie, she doesn’t say anything in return. She only looks on, her eyes locked on Dean as she continues into the room, so Dean decides to take control of his dream. As best he can anyway.

“Why?” he asks, looking for any indication that she’ll actually answer. “Why, Cassie? What are you trying to tell me?” It isn’t until she comes within a few feet of him that she stops and more silence takes over. But only for a moment.

“He’s still out there.” Dean’s taken aback at the fact that she actually answered him, but he snaps out of it fast, praying that he can get more answers before he wakes up.

“I know.” he replies, knowing that the man that took his first love from him was still free and it pissed him off. “I know he is, but what do you expect me to do? I’ve done everything I can think of.”

“He’s still out there.” she repeats, building frustration within him.

“Cassie…I know. I don’t know what you want me to do!”

“Dean.” His name is spoken again, but not by the woman in front of him.

His heart races as he spins around and looks to the slab. Your chest is rising and falling at a quickened pace and he can’t help but rush to your side. Your eyes are open and looking right up at him, but they’re filled with fear. Pure terror and it kills him. Real or not, he can’t stand the sight in front of him.

“Y/N. Honey, it’s…” unable to finish his sentence because you start to gurgle and choke up blood, his eyes scan your body as if he’ll be able to find a way to help you. That’s when he sees the scars across your abdomen, all of them bleeding and oozing more and more the longer he looks at them. But before he can panic anymore than he already was, Cassie grabs his arm and yanks him back, her eyes wide and full of fear just as yours were.

“Save her!” 

“Wh…what? How…” his question is cut off when he hears the distinct sound of a gun being cocked back and that’s when he looks to his right, his arm still in Cassie’s grasp when he meets the eyes of his friend and partner.

“Eddie?” There’s frustration and anger in his eyes, but when Dean looks between him and the gun, there’s no time to take in the situation. The firearm goes off, the loud noise shaking him awake just like his other nightmares.

His chest shook as he breathed through the fear, through the vivid memories of this particular nightmare. The only thing that was bringing him some comfort was the fact that he could hear you in the kitchen moving around and the smell of fresh brewed coffee was something else he was grateful for.

It was clear that the two of you fell asleep on the couch, probably while watching the movie from the night before but he doesn’t remember any of it. His nightmare felt like hours of pain and suffering as if he were sleeping for weeks.

Falling back against the couch pillow, Dean closes his eyes, letting his body calm from the panic he was just enduring. His right arm flops over his face as he takes in a deep breath and exhales after holding it for a moment. The pain in his left arm starts to beg for attention as the adrenaline from it all dies off and he cringes a bit as he remains laying down.

Unfortunately the scenes from his nightmare flash behind his eyelids making it pretty hard to calm himself, but his mind is clear enough that when a specific shot is thrown in his face, his puzzle solving brain sets off an alarm.

His eyes fly open but it takes a moment for him to move his arm out of his view. Staring up at the ceiling for a moment, he tries to decipher if he’s still under the stress of the nightmare or if what he’s thinking actually makes sense.

Within seconds he’s jumping up from the couch, cursing at himself as he’s careless to be careful with his injured arm but he pushes forward anyway. Rushing into his office, he pulls open the bottom drawer of his filing cabinet, yanking out his first ever case file he put together. 

Cassies.

He flips the file open, going directly to the pictures that the coroner had taken. He stomachs the images, looking over the scars that littered Cassie’s body, mostly her abdomen before reaching for the filing cabinet again. This time he pulls open a higher drawer, his fingers dancing along the colored tabs before he finds the one he’s hunting for.

Lawrance Lincher

The name that the media gave Paul McConnell still gets under his skin, but that’s not what he needs to focus on right now.

He flips through the multiple victims, knowing he can look at any of the photos and get his answer, but he turns to your section anyway. He looks over the many wounds on your body, the protective side of him getting angry as he studies the scars but he pushes that aside as he focuses on the reason he came in here in the first place.

“Son of a bitch.” he mutters to himself as his fingers lightly run over each photo and each scar, his throat constricting as he does. “How did I miss this?”

“Dean?” At your presence, he slaps the folders shut and spins in his chair, trying not to look too panicked as he locks eyes with you. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I just…something came to me and I was just looking over some things.” You nod softly but not without trying to see what he has on his desk. Fortunately for Dean, he was successful in closing the files, so there was nothing to see.

“Well…I made coffee.” you tell him, changing the subject.

“Yeah.” he chuckles, resting back in his chair. “I could smell it when I woke up. I’ll uh…I’ll be right there.”

“Okay.” you say after a few seconds. It was clear that you were curious about what he was up to, but you also knew not to dig into his work stuff. And with this? Dean really didn’t want you knowing what was going on.

-

Dean blocks out the noise around him. His eyes jump from picture to picture, his frustrations running deeper and deeper as he thinks of all the hours he’s spent looking at each case and not once did this ever cross his mind.

When the alarm goes off above the door down the hall, his attention is pulled away from the files and he swiftly pulls them together into a neat pile. The sound of chains scraping against each other tells him how close the inmate is and he runs over his plan again quickly in his head.

As the officers escort the inmate into the room, Dean sees the man roll his eyes but he continues to move forward with the officers, letting them hook him to the metal table. After giving them an appreciative nod, the officers step out of the room and into the hall, waiting for the detective's signal to take the inmate back to his cell. But Dean didn’t expect this to be a quick visit.

Dean stares across the table at the man, struggling to put his focus on why he was there. Thankfully, for him, the man in chains was getting impatient and snapped the detective out of it.

“I don’t know why you’re here, but you’re wasting your time.” Clearing his throat, Dean shifts in his seat and sits up a bit more. “I’ve told you people everything already.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Dean says before sifting through his pictures and finding the one he wants, wasting no more time on why he was there. “You remember this girl?” he asks as he slides a picture of Cassie into the middle of the table. Though he knows the answer, he still studies the man and when he shakes his head, Dean digs for the next picture.

“What about this one?” he asks again as a picture of you lands right next to Cassie’s. Again, Dean knows the answer but he still studies the man and he has to hold back when he sees how he reacts to your picture.

“No. I don’t. But, there were a lot of girls.” 

“Yeah. I guess that would be hard.” Dean says as he sifts through his pictures again. He takes a little longer this time, trying to push the vision out of his head. The way Paul smirked when your picture landed on the table. The way he subtly licked his lips…it made him sick.

“What about this?” he asks as he slides a few pictures of the victims' abdomens. One was Cassies, one was yours and just for good measure, he threw in one of the other seven women.

“What about it?”

“Why’d you do it?” Dean asks curtly before sitting back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. “I mean, supposedly, from a few statements I’ve gone through, it was a sexual thing. Made it more pleasurable for you, right?” But Paul only shrugs, remaining calm like any other psychopath.

“The thing is…and it’s funny, but the stab wounds are pretty similar to an old case of mine.”

“Oh yeah?” Dean nods as he pulls out Cassies photo from the bottom of the pile. 

“This one.” Paul looks at it a moment, confusion evident on his face. “You see, this wasn’t one of your girls.” Even after hearing that, Paul just stares at the photo. “So, it got me thinking…did you stab those girls while you raped them because it was more pleasurable for you? Or for someone else?” That’s when Pauls eyes lift from the picture, but the rest of his body remains still in his seat.

“Because recently I’ve had the pleasure to find out that there were two people involved with this case.” Dean tells him, his finger resting on Cassie’s photo. “So, now that I’m looking over your case again, I’m beginning to wonder if it’s not the same situation.” Paul scoffs and sits back in his chair, seeming as if the observation doesn’t phase him at all.

“What? I mean, you’re already locked up so what’s the harm in telling me? If anything, it could possibly lessen your sentence a bit if you help turn your partner in.”

“I highly doubt that.” Paul scoffs, but Dean is intrigued because the man is not denying any of it.

“It’s worth a shot.” Dean shrugs, a soft smirk on his face as he tries to play buddy, buddy with this sick man. “You’re not denying it.” he states, looking for any kind of reaction, but nothing. “Were you working with someone, Paul?”

“Even if I was….there’s nothing in it for me. So why would I say anything?”

“What if I could talk to some lawyers and see if I could cut you a deal?” Paul looks across the table at the detective with a blank stare. “Would you talk to me then?” It feels like minutes go by and Dean’s afraid that he’s not going to get anything out of this man. But then Paul glances down at the pictures, inhaling sharply after a moment and sitting forward in his chair, resting his arms on the table.

“You have no idea what bear you’re poking at here, detective. But I’ll tell you right now…I’d have to be suicidal to say anything to you,” Dean tries to process what this man has just told him, his stomach twisting in knots as it’s a loose confirmation that he was right.

“So, it better be a pretty damn good deal.”

#Escape #detective dean #detective dean winchester #detective dean au #detective dean winchester au #dean #dean au #dean au fic #dean au fanfiction #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fic #dean fanfic #dean fanfiction #dean winchester au #dean winchester au fic #dean winchester au fanfiction #dean winchester angst #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #Supernatural fanfic #supernatural fic #Supernatural AU fanfiction

[happymeishappylife]

Books I’ve Read in 2022 - Part 1

I’m going to do this a literally differently this year. I didn’t do long reviews of each of the books I’ve read and so instead I’m going to be doing just short blurbs and thoughts from everything I read as a way to still document them. Enjoy!

1. David Copperfield by Charles Dickens

Dickens has always been one of my favorite authors but this is definitely one of my favorite novels from him because it was so rich with such great characters and it really chrono called the life of a man who ultimately did good or always approached situations with good intentions. I thought all the side characters were equally as rich even if some of them were hard to like and unlike some of Dickens other characters like in Great Expectations, the bad influences didn’t feel so desperate or petty, it was just the difference between social classes.

2. Golem in the Gears by Piers Anthony (Book #9 of Xanth Novels)

Grundy isn’t my favorite character in this series and having a novel that made him the main focus was a little hard, but also helped in fleshing out his character so by the end of it I didn’t disklike him as much. Just in general I think Piers is pretty misogynistic and sexist and that only gets tames by writing either kids or female characters, but Grundy always with his snark and jokes made that more of a present feeling. Hooking him up with Rapunzel is a little weird and annoying but at least this usually writes off characters as we move forward in the Xanth timelines.

3. Luka and the Fire of Life by Salman Rushdie

Such a fun and meaningful story bringing to life the world of imagination through family tall tales and a mix of video game atmosphere. I had a lot of fun reading this novel and experiencing not only the imagination of this boy, but the rich influences of middle eastern culture because you don’t get a whole lot of that anymore. Plus it had its truly tender moments since the whole story revolves around Luka’s journey to try and save his dad. I think that’s beautiful and well done.

4. A Hard Day’s Knight by Simon R. Green (Book #11 of The Nightside Novels)

This was a reread for me. In fact this book was the first Nightside novel I ever read and got me hooked in the series. Going back and reading all the stories that led up to this one though, made the sort of wild claims and fantasies more grounded and make more sense. Plus as the second to last book in the series, I could understand the build up to the final novel better so it was nice to reread it.

5. Prodigal Son by Dean Koontz (Book #1 in the Frankenstein Novels)

What if Victor Frankenstein never died and for over 200 years was actively working on making more “creatures” who were meant to replace human beings and become the supreme beings of the world? Honestly its a fascinating exploration and I had absolute trust that Dean Koontz could kill it and he did. He creates the perfect gothic supernatural horror setting that many of his books are based in but also perfectly balances the perspectives of these people both helping and trying to stop Frankenstein. Set in New Orleans too, we get a create backdrop as a race to understand and stop Victor becomes the priorities of two cops and Frankenstein’s original creature.

6. A Time of Omens by Katherine Kerr (Book # 6 of the Deverry Cycle Novels)

Now that we’ve moved past a lot of the problematic issues in the first couple novels, I’ve really grown to like the current stories and premises of the Deverry Novels. Plus now that Nevvyn has died, we get to see how well prepared Jill is and also now have a different focus as Jill and Rhodry know much more than everyone else. Though the mystery and struggles of Evandar’s world and Dallandra’s exploration of it is a little chilling and is going to be a prominent place of conflict in the novels to come and I can’t wait to see where it goes. My only complaint is that Rhodry really needs to stop sleeping with everyone. I’ll never understand allosexuals....

7. The Wild Places by Robert MacFarlane

So when my last company fell apart and I was the only one left, I took these book my former boss left in the office and thought I would check them out. And while this was nonfiction, I actually found that I really appreciate reading about peoples exploration of natural world, introducing me to wonders in places I didn’t know existed and expressing the reasons why we must cherish and hold onto them. While I may never climb a snowy mountain and sleep overnight, I do appreciate people who feel the calling and the need to connect to nature in these ways to write so expressively about it and its why I enjoyed this book.

8. Turn Coat by Jim Butcher (Book #11 of the Dresden Files)

This was a fascinating spin in the series and the first time we’ve had a long break between the events of the novels. Set nearly a year after the previous story, Dresden is confronted with a challenge as the Wizard Morgan shows up wounded and on the run from the White Council seeking Harry’s help which is ironic given that Morgan wanted to execute Harry and has always had a bad relationship with him. To me that made the novel interesting and showed how much Harry has grown in order to be willing to help. Plus it actively showed that his suspicions of a Black Council is probably correct, leading for suspense in the upcoming novels.

9. Give and Take by Adam Grant

This was one of the other books I took from my previous job and in all honesty not my usual go to genre. I wasn’t a big fan of it too because essentially its message was maybe you don’t play the part of “I always get may” in order to succeed.... Duh? A lot of the skills he was introducing were not new to me and I have a hard time understanding who needs to hear these things as they seem like simple empathetic and and compassionate things to do.

10. Odd Apocalypse by Dean Koontz (Book #6 of the Odd Thomas Series)

I was very hesitant about jumping back into the adventures of Odd after his decision to actually kill people in the novel because I wasn’t sure where that would take him. And while his character has changed a lot because of that, I honestly felt he got pushed aside in this novel for the more interesting and bizarre events happening in this estate where there were too many other ‘odd’ characters running around and dealing with past and future timelines all converging together with various threats to end the world.

#2022 rewind #books i've read in 2022 #part 1 of idk how many

[hekate1308]

Leaves That Before The Wild Hurricane Fly, A Destiel Advent Calendar, December 12

Masterpost

Read it on AO3

As he carried his present home, he couldn’t help but feel that despite the snow that was still dirtying the sidewalks, everything seemed warmer, lighter –

Or perhaps he was just more aware of the world around him. Yes, it was cold and wet and the snow had long ago lost any white pearliness he’d had and adapted the greatness of the city, but even so, there was something to the crispness of the air that was rather refreshing, and even a promise of better things to come –

God, when had he become so… sentimental? He’d never been an optimist, so…

It was Dean, of course. He was just… so very friendly, so very kind. Even if he knew that the Fae needed him, or thought he needed him, there was something –

He concentrated on the poinsettia. In truth, he had killed almost every plant he had ever touched, but if he ever succeeded, he was certain it would eb with this one.

He had not had a poinsettia before, either, not even for Christmas, not even a fake one, even though he knew people liked to put them up. But then again, he simply hadn’t celebrated in the last few years… or much ever, really…

As soon as he got home, he sought a nice spot for the plant and thankfully found it. He didn’t think he would have been able to look Dean in the eye and tell him that the plant had died because he hadn’t done what he was told to do. The earth was still moist enough, so that shouldn’t be a problem.

Unto what they had talked about, meaning he had to talk to Raphael. Now, even as he had been talking about letting him go, he’d let him know that he considered him “perfectly pleasant but not cut out for the job” meaning he would probably be surprised that Castiel of all people had found a story all on his own, but it was worth a try…

He knew some of his colleagues called their boss on the weekends but it had always struck him as impolite. But this was his job they were talking about, or rather, this was about so much more – the creatures and witches rights, for one thing.

Well then.

He called him.

“Castiel! How can I help you?`”

He probably thought he was about to hand his in resignation before he was let go, but he quickly explained what he was up to, as Dean would most likely have called it.

“Hm. And you say the creatures are willing to talk to you?”

There was something about the way he pronounced the words the creatures that made him think he meant a much more insulting one. “As a matter of fact, I am already in contact with –“

“Ah, of course.” Again, his voice was dripping with derision, and Castiel managed to stay calm even as he recalled that Raphael had never bothered to even remember Ishim’s name, no matter how many work functions they had visited together.

“Yes, well, I was just wondering if you would consider this an interesting story?”

“It could be. It depends how our readers react to it, of course” he said., “But there might even be the potential for a series in there, provided it’s well-written…”

And he had hardy ever considered an article of Castiel’s as such, he knew. “Alright, I’ll go to work, then.”

Normally he would never have dared be so assertive, but he felt buoyed by the lunch he had just had, and even more by the company…

“I would not be averse to receiving a draft”. That was just the kind of thing Raphael had loved to say since he had taken over the job, so Castiel took it as much of an affirmation as he would get.

They ended their talk soon after, and right after that, he sent Dean a text.

Raphael agreed to let me write the article.

Great news, sunshine. Knew you could do it ;)

He told himself that he really should know better by now, but instead, he saved the text like the others.

Then he went to his laptop. While he didn’t feel comfortable just disclosing anything about their lunch, it would be a good idea to let people know that yes, creatures ate just like any other human, and that they liked to have meals together, as well.

For if there was one thing one could never underestimate, it was human naivete, or so he had learned in the course of his work.

For so long, he had stare dat blank pages, unable to even out a word down.

Now, he simply didn’t think about it.

And all through the afternoon and well into the night, he wrote and wrote and wrote.

#spn #my writings #destiel #advent calendar #dean winchester #castiel

[anna-coded]

“i never thought the child-killing shtriga would kill MY child” says hunter who left his children unattended in a town where a child-killing shtriga was killing children. 

#sorry i'm watching something wicked and this gets me SO heated #even if we DO ignore the whole 'left his 10 year old to look after his 6 year old for multiple days' #he is soooooo stupid #say dean didn't 'screw up' and leave sam unattended #john is counting on dean being a good enough shot to kill the near-invincible monster attacking sam #and not accidentally shoot sam? #and that's assuming dean wouldn't be asleep at the time? #dean could have done everything perfectly and one of them STILL could have died #because john not only left his kids alone for multiple days #but left them alone in a situation he KNEW was dangerous because he was hunting the thing making it dangerous #edit someone reminded me about the bait possibility GOD. #anti john winchester #john

[tearsofgrace]

endings are hard... but they aren’t impossible

tldr; the good place fucking nailed the finale, supernatural completely and utterly bombed it.

tags: wc--4.5k, gif heavy, spn meta, the good place, supernatural finale, spn wank, all gifs are mine, if you read til the end there’s a pretty gif

so i recently finished the good place (i was watching w my family and we finally had time to sit down and watch the last season) and god fucking dammit that ending is FLAWLESS. literally flawless. 

and because i’m, well, me… i spent most of the time during that hour long finale thinking about how supernatural could have had even a fraction of that and avoided so much heartbreak. 

anyways. i decided to compare them. to REALLY compare them. to get into the nitty gritty of why the fuck the good place ending left me feeling, as the finale is all about, sated and complete. and why the spn ending left me confused, lost, broken, betrayed, unable to even enjoy my comfort show at all until a dear friend finally just watched an episode (8.08) start to finish with me. 

so without further ado (always wanted to say that) here’s the good place/supernatural finale meta that no one asked for

comedy

we’ll start small. both these shows have excellent comedy. in extremely different ways… but still

in the good place finale, the comedy was perfect. whether it was jason reappearing in the forest, michael trying to get through The Door, tahani reversing the “hot bod” bit on eleanor, every comedic moment was actually pretty emotional and added something to the show. they deepened characters’ meanings, added to their relationships, and made the audience think as much as they made the audience laugh.

in the spn finale… the comedy was the pie gag. the whole sam shoving pie into dean’s face. beyond this being… like meta as hell (the whole prank thing) it doesn’t have any depth to it.

and to add salt to the wound, this “hilarious” thing happens RIGHT AFTER salmondean have a conversation about missing jack and cas that is equal parts flat and infuriating. the brothers, in particular sam about jack and dean about cas, should care more. this is their family. and family is everything to them. but, no, by all means pie dean in the face.

last lines

this one IRKS me. okay. 

the last line of the good place  "I'll say this to you, my friend, with all the love in my heart and all the wisdom of the universe: Take it sleazy.” “All right.”  is ICONIC. okay?

it’s a reference to season 1 that doesn’t feel fan-servicey. it’s kinda honestly emotional cuz it’s like a message to us, the audience. it perfectly completes michael’s arc. it captures the light-hearted vibe of the show while also somehow managing to be poignant. you can see it coming like the second before it happens but it’s also not the obvious choice. it’s just. goddamn it’s good.

the last line of supernatural…. is… “and cut.” not even said by one of j2. i mean i know it’s a meta show but COME ON ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME??????????

now i hear you shouting wait but that’s just the end of the thank you message. okay fine whatever. in that case the last lines are “Hey, Sammy.” “Dean.” (i couldn’t bring myself to gif that moment)

i’m sorry but. that’s predictable. that’s obvious. that’s boring. that’s flat. sure, it celebrates the bond between the brothers. but like… that’s not what this show is about anymore. it’s not just about sam and dean winchester it’s about what they’ve created. it’s about the world they’ve saved, the family they’ve made, about how they always keep fighting but nope we get bland, boring, coulda seen ‘em coming from miles away lines for the very end. that’s fine.

montages

the spn finale is like 50% montages that don’t make sense and are poorly done and not emotional

the good place has a montage of michael being human that brought me to tears

timing

here’s another short section. the good place finale was 53 minutes long as opposed to the usual 20 minute long runtime of every episode. granted, the fandom of the good place is very different, but STILL there was no documentary telling the fans things they ALREADY knew (there was a short special after the ep, but the episode itself was still far longer than normal). it was 53 minutes of plot. of really fucking good not rushed plot. 

the supernatural finale was… what 36 minutes long?? as opposed to the normal 40 minute runtime?? granted, we did get an hour long documentary of things we’ve all heard in cons and interviews a billion times so hey. take what you can get i guess.

character arcs

this is most of the meat of this meta. one thing we’ve all been harping on a TON is how they RUINED character arcs. soooo let’s go through and juxtapose some character arcs shall we

eleanor

eleanor shellstrop starts the show completely self-obsessed. she died getting hit by shopping carts while picking up margarita mix and let’s be real she’s a total icon. love her to death. she grows a ton, becomes one of the most selfless characters on the show, and starts to actually (jack forbid) CARE about things. it’s one of the most satisfying and relatable character arcs i’ve ever seen. 

it’s not just her selfishness either, her character is super multi-faceted and complex, and i feel like even in the end we’re getting to know her better. she’s afraid of commitment, always worried about what others’ actions will do to her, loves the trivial side of life, is queer as fuck (as acknowledged by the show in a way that’s not harmful at all but also isn’t explicitly bi/pan/unlabeled/omni etc, allowing queer fans to see their own identity in her), and is all around a HUMAN BEING. her ending at the beginning of the show was her death. her stupid, trivial, meaningless death where she was, as she puts it, all alone. and her final ending ISNT that. yes, everyone goes before her. and i think that’s purposeful. to show that she’s grown enough that being alone in some sense is okay.

but she’s never TRULY alone. and in the end. the REAL end. janet is there. the whole time. because eleanor asked her to be!! she got over her crazy need for independence and simply asked for help. and eleanor dies an amazing person that has become selfless, has found joy in philosophy while still enjoying trashy content, has fixed her relationship with her mother, and has found a sense of completion. eleanor’s life ends on her terms, and it’s beautiful.

dean

alright. now just as you’re feeling all warm and fuzzy let’s look at dean winchester’s ending. you’ve heard it a million times, so i’ll be brief. dean was raised to be a hunter, a soldier, a killing machine with no feelings and no purpose. he was raised to die scared on a hunt, his life over because of some mistake he made because he will NEVER measure up. at least that’s what john and everyone else told him with the exceptions of some of his family (and family don’t end in blood). he started to accept that he didn’t have to have this. he started to realize that he could CHOOSE what his ending was. 

the beautiful thing is, we never truly got to see what that was. i personally like to think it’s similar to the roadhouse michael locked him in while he was trapped in his own mind. a safe place for hunters, somewhere he (and cas in my opinion, but that’s not important) could settle down and still be in the life. it would be an amazing tribute to jo and ellen, and just all around a great ending. he wouldn’t have to be scared, but he wouldn’t have to conform to some apple pie facade of normalcy. and ya know what?? say that he died so he could have peace i dare you. because dean doesn’t find peace until sam is there anyway so i beg of you WHAT WAS THE FUCKING POINT. 

dean winchester died scared. dean winchester died on a hunt. dean winchester died on one of john’s old hunts. dean winchester died not directly at the hands of a monster, but at the hands of a mistake. his mistake. dean winchester died without ever working through the trauma of his best friend in the entire world confessing his love in a final act of self-sacrifice. dean winchester died in a way that leaves a sour taste in my mouth and does not at all show the audience what he’s been through and how much he’s grown. dean winchester did not die on his terms, and he deserved better.

chidi

okay back to happy. chidi anagonye. by far my personal favorite good place character (don’t tell anyone i always say jason cuz he and i are very similar). chidi in the last few episodes is SO DRASTICALLY different than the chidi we meet at the beginning. he’s decisive, confident, self-assured, and it’s amazing to see. he’s not afraid of life anymore. he’s not afraid to make the wrong decision and forever alter his reality, because he’s okay with failure. 

at the beginning, chidi was so petrified of life that… it killed him. and in the end, he’s completely at peace with every decision he makes, even the final one. yes, he considered staying for eleanor, but that just shows how his moral code and his compassion for others is still very much still intact. it shows the audience that you can be confident and decisive without being a selfish asshole. 

chidi leaves the good place knowing that it’s the right thing to do. knowing without a doubt that his time has come. the old chidi never would have been able to fathom being that sure about something. it’s beautiful. it’s a development that can give the audience peace, can show them that this drastic of change is possible, and that chidi became a better person for all of it. chidi went on his own terms, and it was beautiful.

sam

… this one might be controversial… but sam winchester. god i hated sam’s ending. at first i was kinda okay with it. like, okay fine he got his normal life. but, really, in the end that’s not what sam wanted. he started to realize that he didn’t need that apple pie, white picket fence life. he didn’t need the wife and the kids and the backyard and the barbecues because that is NOT sam’s personality and i will throw hands on that. 

that’s not to say he doesn’t want some sort of romance, maybe even kids, but not in that way. he lets himself see that he doesn’t need to be defined by his rebellion to john. doesn’t need to be defined by going to college or any of those “normal” smart kid things because it doesn’t fit him. and that’s okay! but how does sam’s story end? it ends with a wife (that isn’t even important enough to show her face). with kids. with a goddamn white picket fence. we think he’s still hunting to some extent… but it’s not the arc we were led to believe would happen. it’s not this amazing leader sam that we see in season 12-14, uniting hunters and organizing them. 

he had SO MUCH potential and they throw it away on a vanilla ending that shows only surface level pain at losing his brother. he doesn’t even invite the rest of their family to the wake for fuck’s sake. jared did an incredible job. pls don’t think i’m saying he didn’t. but that script…. sam winchester’s arc was cut short. he didn’t go on his terms, and he deserved better.

jason

jason mandoza. the only character that has ever embodied my complete dumbass energy to the insane extent that it exists. he went to hell for his impulsivity. he never thought before a decision. i aspire to be as reckless as jason while on earth. but he LEARNED. he got better, just like they all did. and by the end of the show, jason doesn’t need to be impulsive anymore. much like eleanor being left “alone,” the show does a masterful job with making him be the first one to go, capturing his old impulsiveness. but he chooses to leave. he takes his time in deliberation, waiting until a feeling of peace, of completion, of well, ‘true happiness’ (sorry cas stans, i’m right there with you) has settled over him. 

the ending of his story is one of growth, just like all these characters have been. and the best part? the show makes it comedic in the most poignant and beautiful way, because it’s jason, it had to be funny. we learn that jason has been in the woods for like, eons, just waiting to go through the door because he wants to give janet a necklace. he’s learned to simply wait. to be at peace with… nothing. his torture was being a monk, but in the end, jason embodies those ideals. his arc comes to fruition in an extremely satisfying way. jason goes on his own terms, and it’s beautiful.

castiel

this one is gonna hurt like a bitch. castiel is my comfort character. he’s my role model. he’s me in a lot of ways. i love him. so fucking much. so excuse me if this is slightly incoherent. i’m actually okay with cas’ ending… in a way. because his actual ending as an on-screen character? perfect. self-sacrifice while coming out and professing his love to dean winchester. a little bit bury the gays, but let’s be real, it’s supernatural. and “happiness is in just saying it” has to be the most powerful way to think of coming out. it takes away the fear, it takes away so much of the pain that can follow. because the joy is in just saying the words.

it’s how this was treated on the show that makes cas’ character arc terrible (and we haven’t even gotten to 15.20). YOU CANNOT JUST IGNORE A LOVE CONFESSION. that is god awful writing and i will never change my mind on that. cas deserved his family to care about him. to at least address and be sad about the fact he was gone. jesus fucking christ after everything castiel deserved at least that. and then we go to 15.20. cas is in heaven. cas is serving god. cas is right back where he started. now, i’m coming off a little strong. 

if the show had decided to show us cas and jack in heaven makin’ the world a better place… i woulda come around to it. i woulda realized that that’s not REALLY erasing 12 years of character development and cas realizing that his whole identity isn’t just him serving heaven and isn’t just him being an angel and that he’s so much more than all of that and he could still be happy as a human… because really he’s with his son. but they didn’t show us that. they barely even mentioned him. and to me. that counts as a bad character arc. and i’m sorry if you disagree. castiel may have gone on his own terms, but they treated that beautiful sacrifice with disrespect and disdain, plus resolved his arc by putting him back where he started. he deserved better.

tahani

*deep breaths guys this is a long post i’m sorry* anywayyyy tahani!!! we love tahani obviously. let’s talk about her arc, because it always kinda bothered me. throughout the show, we see all the other character’s growing and expanding their knowledge of right and wrong. and, don’t get me wrong. we see tahani grow a lot. but she makes a lot of the same types of comments and shit like that. but it’s how she treats the reactions to those comments. by the end of the show, she laughs at the caricature of herself that the others see. she isn’t looking for vindication in name-dropping, she just does it. she is far less self-absorbed, and is genuinely interested in those around her. she fixes her relationships with her sister and her parents in a way that doesn’t feel forced and actually feels like a beautiful, healthy family reunion. 

she has a list and she does everything on it. it’s worth noting, that the things on her list are not at all what they would have been at the beginning of the show. most of them are humble “labor” type tasks, and all of them are in self improvement. tahani’s end on the show is not the same as everyone else’s. she realizes that she doesn’t need to be done. that there doesn’t have to be an end to self-improvement. and she becomes an architect. the writers perfectly embody her transformation from a self-obsessed rich girl who has never done a thing for herself and laughs at the lower-class to a down-to-earth worker that simply doesn’t want the journey to end. 

it’s incredible how perfectly the writers were able to close off these character arc’s without it feeling forced, and without ignoring their character development. imagine that. tahani chooses her own way, and it’s beautiful.

jack

jack’s ending may be the only one that i’ve actually somewhat come to terms with. it’s not terrible. it’s not great. but it’s not nearly as bad. because ignoring that awful monologue about every drop of rain and shit, jack really does end up helping people. he ends up doing something that he loves and that makes the world a better place. and he doesn’t lose his personality in it. but. i dunno, that’s still his destiny, right? to create paradise. and this is a show about ripping up the rule book, about choosing free will above all else… so to have every single character just fulfill their destiny is cheap. 

still… i’ll try to be unbiased. because really at the beginning of jack’s time on the show, he’s unsure what he wants. and at least, in the end, he’s sure. he has a wisdom that he’s always had but he’s now using. and i’m good with that. but what’s NOT okay about jack’s ending is the lack of on-screen family. jack learns that family is important. sam, cas, dean those are the people he cares about. and you’re telling me he would just NEVER see them again? and be okay with that? i know he rebuilds heaven with cas, but we don’t even get a story about him rescuing cas from the empty. and he seems in 15.19 to not be that concerned about it (after the amazing emotional scene at the beginning). jack should have cared about his family. he did. but they ruined that for him. so jack kline deserved better.

michael

oh man where do i start. michael’s growth is the biggest on the show. i mean. he starts as a literal demon and ends a human. he gets better, he falls in love with humanity (*castiel fan in me sobbing again*) and he chooses over and over to be good instead of bad. his whole arc is a classic redemption arc, and every single beat just gets better. he chooses selfishly to side with humans but in the end it turns out to be the best decision he could have made. because he develops emotions, he develops compassion, he develops a moral compass. 

and his end reflects that. because to complete this arc of a demon becoming more human… he literally becomes human!!!! it fits so well. and he’s allowed to make mistakes and be happy and gain all that humanity has to offer. this just shows that human!endgame for cosmic beings that become more human WORKS SO WELL (and it shoulda happened for cas and jack that’s all i’m saying). michael went on his own terms, and it was beautiful.

eileen

oh boy… this one stings. because they brought her back, used her up, and we never saw her again. eileen was one of the best side characters on the show, and they rarely addressed her arc. she comes onto the show as a hunter seeking revenge, and gets that revenge in the same episode. her s15 arc is focused on what’s real and what’s not, with her relationship to sam admittedly being a central part of her character because… it’s supernatural and women can’t exist without that. but still! eileen grows throughout the show and in the end… we don’t even know what happens to her. it’s as if her arc wasn’t important enough to even glance at. 

it’s as if the connections the boys make outside of each other mean nothing when in reality they mean everything. they prove that the co-dependency is behind them and that family doesn’t end with blood and that real connections can be formed between people that last a lifetime. eileen was a disabled hunter that was shown to still be one of the best in the business, and they didn’t even give her the courtesy of a goodbye. eileen didn’t go on her own terms, and she deserved better.

janet

this is gonna unbalance my list but goddammit janet’s ending was perfect. she was a not-robot, not-girl that should have been incapable of feelings. but throughout the series we get to watch as she learns first-hand about human emotions and processes them. she cares about the humans in her charge and fights for them on multiple counts. 

in the end, we see janet come to terms with both her cosmic being side, and her human side. she never stops being with the “cockroaches.” she sees them all leave, she’s there for them while they’re there, and she also continues to speak her mind and live autonomously. janet was a non-human character done right. she lived on her own terms, and it was beautiful.

some honorable mentions

spn ignored (in the finale) chuck, amara, stevie, charlie, jody, donna, garth, bess, the other angels, claire, kaia, patience, alex, and the list goes ON in favor of focusing on JUST sam and dean. did none of those characters at least deserve a quick goodbye??????

the good place wrapped up multiple arcs i had completely forgotten about in a totally natural and not forced way. mindy, doug forester, (the mushroom guy, i know, it took me a second), pillboy, donkey doug, kamilah, tahani’s parents, eleanor’s mother, eleanor’s friends, chidi’s best friend, vicki, shawn, glenn, simone and so many that i’m forgetting all got satisfying ends that they totally deserved. 

they even fucking resolved FROG GUY’S arc and gave him a real frog. that’s right. frog guy (jeff) had a better character arc resolution than dean motherfucking winchester. 

heaven and hell

obviously in very different vehicles, both shows explore in depth the realities of the afterlife. and lemme tell ya, at the end of the day, one sits a whole lot better than the other. 

the good place finale ends this quest for the perfect afterlife by saying that everyone can improve and that an eternal paradise shouldn’t keep you from eternal rest. they pretty much make me wish that this is what our afterlife looked like. they handle everything with care so it’s balanced precariously in a way that doesn’t give you anxiety looking at it but instead fills you with peace and faith in humanity. 

supernatural addresses this series long battle between heaven and hell by creating a heaven where you drive for forty years without seeing the people (cough cough cas and jack not his parents) that matter to you and drink beer that tastes like shit. a place you can’t be happy or find any sense of peace until your brother has died and he’s there too.

and hell… well they barely even address it. there’s a new queen of hell i guess? but so what. it’s still very much heaven and hell in a way that’s the worst and hey plus to them… makes me wanna stay alive thank you very much. oh and purgatory is in shambles and not functioning properly cuz all that eve bullshit.

loose ends

whenever something is ending, you gotta tie up the loose ends. not in a “oh, we must wrap everything up and leave no stone unturned” kinda way but in a “wow, we should probably try to make this unambiguous because this is the last time we will ever see these characters” kinda way. 

the good place does that. so fucking masterfully. all these side plots with all these different characters were taken care of all while focusing on the main six characters. we get to see how their intervention has changed everyone else. for example, mindy’s arc is wrapped up perfectly, with eleanor going to save her.

plus different running jokes like “take it sleazy” are wrapped up, we revisit really old callbacks like the original neighborhood, and all of it feels natural and in the moment. it feels like full circle in a way that doesn’t erase growth. 

supernatural, on the other hand, left a million loose ends open. what happened to the boys they saved? where the fuck are jody, donna, etc.? did eileen make it back? cuz sam was pretty upset about that. what happened to it “being loud” in the empty? hell, what happened to the empty? what happened to hell? what about chuck? it woulda been nice to see just for a second what became of him. did charlie and stevie make it (i’m very invested in that relationship)? if we’re taking the original ending… why the fuck is jimmy there? did kansas just all,,, die? 

i’m not saying they needed to address everything… but god a few wrapped up storylines besides the brothers wouldn’t have hurt

coloring

can i just… real quick… as a giffer lodge a complaint

the good place has beautiful vibrant coloring in the finale

spn has like bland washed out whatever the fuck that is coloring. it’s not even the dark early aesthetic cuz they dropped that it’s just… ew. so. do with that what you will. 

conclusion

first… while writing this i realized just HOW MUCH it’s not about destiel… like believe me. i knew i wasn’t just pissed about destiel. but holy shit it’s not destiel at all like did i even mention destiel that much???? this was never about a ship. this was just a trash finale. 

in the end. the good place writers knew what they were doing. they knew their fans, they knew their characters, they knew their world, and they knew how to wrap it up in a way that was satisfying and sad and perfectly fit the tone of the whole show. it wasn’t out of character or rushed, basically every loose end was tied up without the audience even realizing that’s what they were doing, and i feel happy and complete having watched it. 

the supernatural ending was a betrayal. flat out. to the audience that has stuck by it in a way bigger way than the good place fandom. to the characters that have helped so many people. to the actors that have given so much of their lives. to the other members of the crew, to certain writers… all of it was just a slap in the face.

we deserved better guys. there are better endings possible. so i’m sorry. i really am. but i guess… that’s what fanfic is for, right?

#spn meta #spn wank #the good place #supernatural #somethingtosay #the good place gifs #spn gifs #meta #my writing #my meta #mine #my gifs #userpris #fieryfrankie #purgatoryking #chaoticdean #stardustsam #spncreatorsdaily #userannie #adorkabledean #usertila #tuserksn #usersila

[mishacollinsthighsss]

"Sam, what do you want?"

Cas stared at Sam, unsure why the younger brother wanted to talk to him so badly, but now seemed to struggle to get a single word out.

"Listen man, there's- there's things you should know about. It's about..."

Sam trailed of with a sigh and sat down in one of the chairs in the library, so Cas did the same.

"About what?"

He got more and more confused by the second, but he could sense that Sam was really nervous, almost scared, so he tried not to be too impatient.

"It's about Dean."

"What about Dean? Is he- did he get in trouble again when I was gone?"

Sam sighed again, even deeper this time, but shook his head.

"No, that's not- have you noticed anything different about him since you're back?"

Cas furrowed his brows and lowered his gaze to the table, trying to think of anything, but there was nothing, at least not something he'd noticed.

"No, not really. Well, he eats even more, but other than that-"

"Yeah, he eats more because he was starving the last few weeks?"

"Starving?"

Cas tried to keep up with Sam, but it got harder and harder.

"Yeah. He- you know how he is, when someone dies, he always blames himself-"

"It's not his fault. I told you to go, both of you. I thought I could handle it."

"I know Cas, but that's not the point."

Sam brushed his hair behind his ear, and just then Cas noticed that he was shaking a little.

"What is it, then?"

"If you'd stop to interrupt me-"

"If you'd just say what you want to say-"

"Okay, okay, stop. This isn't going anywhere that way."

Cas looked up again, his eyebrows still knitted together, but as soon as his eyes met Sam's, he could see the worry in them, so he closed his mouth and made a gesture for Sam to continue.

"Listen, this wasn't the first time. I mean, it was the first time it was that bad, but... whenever you die, Dean's- he's different. He doesn't eat, drinks whenever he can get his hands on some booze, he doesn't sleep, has nightmares. He's a mess without you, dude."

That definitely wasn't what Cas was expecting, and even though it was good to hear that he was important to Dean, his heart felt heavy because Dean suffered because of him.

"That's normal when you're grieving Sam, you should-"

"No, no its not. Not like that. When- when Charlie died, or Kevin, or even dad... it's different with you."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

Sam took another deep breath, before he locked eyes with Cas, a determined expression on his face.

"Do you love him?"

Cas was taken aback for a second, because of everything Sam could've asked, he definitely wasn't expecting that.

"Of course, you know I love you both-"

"No. No, no, not like that. Are you- are you in love with Dean?"

Cas sucked in a sharp breath, his heart racing. He knew that Sam asked because he didn't know, how could he, Cas tried to hide it as good as he could. He thought about lying for a second, but why should he?

"Yes."

His voice was quiet, almost a whisper, and he couldn't hold Sam's gaze anymore. His eyes fell closed and he had to lower his head once again, because he could feel his cheeks burning.

"Good."

"Good?"

"Yeah."

When Cas looked up again, a small smile appeared on his lips, but the angel couldn't quite figure out what was going on inside the younger brother's head.

"Why?" he asked after a long moment of silence, afraid of the answer, but he was too curious not to ask.

"Because I- I think he loves you too."

Even though his grace was protecting the vessel, Cas could've sworn that in this moment, he was close to a heart attack, but he quickly shook his head.

"No, that's not- he... he doesn't like men, Sam. It's normal that he's grieving me, he said it a few times, I'm like a brother to him-"

"Oh, and you believe everything that comes out of his mouth without any doubt?"

Sam raised an eyebrow, challenging, and Cas quickly shook his head.

"No, of course not, but he- he made it clear that he isn't interested in me that way."

"Goddamnit Cas, do you have any idea what I have to deal with when you're gone?"

"No, I don't know if you've noticed, but I was dead."

The angel's voice was quiet, but he couldn't stop it from shaking completely, so he hoped Sam didn't hear it.

"He's- he's not Dean anymore when you're gone, man. He's just- just an empty shell. God he- he wanted to die, Cas. You've seen him grieving, and when you're gone- that's a whole new level."

Sam looked stressed now, almost desperate, but Cas didn't allow himself to think about it, not even for a second, so he just shook his head stubbornly.

"You two are fucking killing me! Just go and kiss Dean and you'll see."

"Wait- what?"

Both their heads snapped around when all of a sudden, Dean appeared in the library, still wearing his pajama, a cup of fresh coffee in his hand.

"You heard that right, could you two just kiss? Do you have any fucking idea how frustrating it is to see you dance around each other, both of you obviously totally smitten, but neither of you has the balls to make a fucking move?"

Cas stared at Sam with wide eyes as he stood up and stomped out of the room, leaving Dean and Cas alone there.

"You uh- is he- I mean does he-"

"Yes. I'm sorry Dean, I know you don't feel that way and it was inappropriate for Sam to-"

"So you- you love me. Like... in love with me? The whole chick-flick stuff?"

Dean's voice came closer, but Cas was too afraid to look at him, so he stubbornly stared at the table.

"Uh...y-yes."

The angel could practically feel Dean's eyes on him, so he lifted his hand and rubbed his neck, in an attempt to lessen the feeling, but it just got stronger with every second.

"Huh."

"Huh?"

"Thought angels couldn't feel that way."

"Well, we aren't supposed to."

"But you do?"

"Yes."

"Great."

"What?"

"I said great."

"Oh."

"So... you gonna make a move now, or what?"

Dean's voice was close to Cas' ear now, and when he looked up, there noses were touching all of a sudden. Dean's eyes were shining and even though Cas wanted to bring some space between them, he couldn't stop staring. His heart hammered in his chest by now, and he knew he could use his grace to calm it down, but for some reason, he didn't want to.

"Because, y'know, me too. The same thing, I mean. Me too."

"You- you mean you...?"

"Yeah."

Both of them were just whispering, but they could hear each other perfectly, could feel their breaths on their lips, even. For the first time in his existence, Cas felt like he wasn't able to think, wasn't even able to breathe. He hesitated for another second, but then leaned forward to close the gap between their lips. A quiet whimper escaped him when he felt Dean's lips for the first time, followed by a sigh. He'd kissed people before, but not like that. He'd never felt the way he felt for Dean, which made it so much more special to him.

He could hear a distant noise, but before he was able to pull away, two warm hands were on his cheeks and pulled him even closer. Their kiss was messy, almost clumsy because of Cas' lack of experience, but neither of them broke it. After what felt like hours and no time at all, Cas could feel Dean sitting down on his lap, so he hesitantly wrapped his arms around the other man's waist. Apparently, that was a good move, because he could feel Dean smiling.

Dean was sighing quietly too now, so Cas used the chance to deepen it even more. His hands were shaking and he could actually feel his blood rushing through his veins, which made him chuckle just a little.

They didn't know how long they were sitting there like that, just kissing and touching each other, when suddenly, Sam cleared his throat from the other end of the room.

"You guys done soon? Because I found a case."

Dean was the one who pulled away first, a smile on his lips and his eyes shining with happiness, something Cas could stare at forever. His cheeks were flushed and the angel knew that he probably looked exactly the same, but he still turned his head to look at Sam, who was trying to hide a grin.

"If you ever do something like that again Sammy, I'm gonna kill you myself. And I'll make sure that you'll stay dead."

Dean's words were harsh, but there was no heat behind them. Cas tightened his grip around Dean's waist and buried his face at his neck, not ready to let go yet, which made the other man laugh quietly.

"Noted. Anyway, there's this case..."

*****

So, it's 3 in the morning, it's still 26° Celsius outside and I already forgot half of what I wrote. I'm also too exhausted to read over it now, so if there are any mistakes, my apologies 😅

Also I didn't make a tag list now, but I'm gonna tag the people who asked anyway. If you want to get tagged too in future fics, please let me know, and also let me know if you wanna get tagged for destiel, cockles, or both 😊

💙💙💙

@green-blue-heller @sam--ships--it

#dean winchester #castiel #destiel #deancas #deanxcastiel #destiel fanfic #destiel fic #destiel ficlet #also Sam but i dont wanna tag hik because reasons #deancas fic #spn #destiel first kiss

[verobatto]

It's Always been You.

I love you

Destiel Meta. 15x18 meta.

Keeping the fire burning in our hearts, i can't believe what we just saw last night, and i have to keep screaming about this historical scene.

I wrote this meta with my friend's huge help @mrsaquaman187 , because we needed to talk more about body language. Because the scene was perfectly played by Jensen and Misha.

And i want to say thank you to my dearest friend @spnsmile because she made amazing gifs for this analysis. Love you girl!

Before start this meta, i want you to read a meta i wrote two years ago, and i want to share it again with you today.

Break the jar and do it again. The slow construction of Destiel Canon

Okay, now, let's start this journey...

Castiel's honesty at his purest form

I will analyze word by word, because this is historical, as I said before. So, let's rewatch the scene together, the scene in which Castiel released himself, and allowed for the first time, to be happy. (I want my angel back 😭).

“I always wondered, ever since I took that that burden, that curse, I wondered what it could be, what...what my true happiness could even look like. I never found an answer. Because the one thing I want...it's something I know I can't have."

Well, my friends, as I yelled in my Destiel meta you can find here, is canon now that Castiel was wondering what would it be to have Dean not just as a friend, but as a lover, and I'm.... Okay. (Internally screaming).

And damn @weird-dorky-little-deana and her post here in which I screamed again, this is it, my friends. Is perfect. Because is all along what I was suspecting... Remember 14x09, Pamela represented Dean's fem side, Dean's subconscious, so, in conclusion, Pamela was Dean talking to himself and saying :YOU WANT WHAT YOU CAN'T HAVE. Is because Dean thought CAS didn't love him back, and Cas saying he can't have Dean is a huge parallel because it shows the way it was constructed. Both men thinking they can't have each other. Is perfect and angsty and so romantic.

"But I think i know...I think I know now. Happiness isn't in the having. It's in just being. It's in just saying it.”

This is such a deep thought and it talks about Castiel's maturity of character. He understood once for all, that loving Dean Winchester, feeling what he feels for him, and expressing that to Dean, is his true happiness. Because...

METATRON: "(...) You draped yourself in the flag of Heaven, but ultimately, it was all about saving one human. Right?"

Dean didn't know it

Dean: “What are you talking about, man?”

Dean's question shows us he didn't know what Cas was trying to say, he didn't know Cas was about to confess his love for him, he didn't know Castiel loves him back the same way Dean loves him.

Cas: “I know. I know how you see yourself, Dean. You see yourself the same way our enemies see you. You're destructive and you're angry and you're broken. You're...you're 'Daddy's Blunt Instrument.' And you think hate and anger, that's...that's what drives you. That's who you are. It's not. And everyone who knows you sees it.

I just have to put everything in red because, OMG, people, this is Cas in the barn all over again but after 11 years of being with him and truly sees through him, and this is Cas in the golden room:

CASTIEL: What is so worth saving? I see nothing but pain here. I see inside you. I see your guilt, your anger, confusion.

This time answering himself, this time, healing all the weight and the pain Dean could carry inside. Because Dean deserves to be saved. That's why Cas gave his life again for him.

Even now, with Billie outside saying IT AS ALWAYS BEEN YOU, and naming him like the rebel, Cas rewords all of that, and shows Dean why he is all of that, because he is GOOD.

Oh Lord, okay, everytime I see Cas smiling and saying those words i have to repress my tears, but...

"Since Castiel laid a hand on you in Hell, he was lost!"

No, sister, he was found.

Castiel is rewording each bad comment or mocking angels had done based on his romantic love for Dean, he is saying , yes since I met you in Hell, i was found, you changed me, I fell for you. Damn... Dean go get back this angel because I swear...

But now, i want to share with you my friend reading about their body language on this scene.

@mrsaquaman187 wrote:

"Here is interesting because usually with conversations like these Dean would get upset or strut around then disagree and blame himself for something. BUT he doesn’t do that this time. Which leads me to believe he knew what Cas was going to say... you can see his face stiffen, intense eye contact and he clenches his jaw. Which tells me he is MAKING himself listen. He knows what’s coming and he has made the decision to HEAR it."

@mrsaquaman187 wrote:

Gif 1:

"Here he’s trying to hold it together. He’s swallowing back tears because he wants to see this conversation through to the end."

Gif 2:

"Oh this one is fascinating because he’s not moving. This means he’s no longer trying to be sure of what Cas is saying. He definitely knows what he’s going to say. Also if you look at his eyes, his pupils are dialated. Fun fact: when you’re looking at someone you love, your pupils dialate."

If you are still alive, i just want to point how romantic is this, because he is saying that Dean changed him for good. And he is naming all their family, Sam, Jack, and humanity, the world. Dean. So practically, Cas is saying, Dean showed Cas how to take care of others. Damn...

But also....

ISHIM: The way you let those simians talk to you... Castiel, when did you get so gooey? You know why we're meant to stay away from them humans? Hmm? It's not because we're a danger to them. They're a danger to us. Case in point.

CAS: Well, my friendship with Sam and Dean has made me stronger.

Castiel rewording again, because he knows what Dean did on him, Dean changed him for good.

I Love You

@mrsaquaman187 wrote:

Gif 1:

"Hmmm this one is a mixture of disappointment and denile...he’s basically thinking “you can’t be leaving me again”. His slow blinking and calm appearance indicates that he’s sort of asking out of disbelief or denial."

Gif 2:

"My poor boy had so much to say! Here you can tell he realizes what Cas was saying...he gets the meaning but can’t get his response out. He starts with the head tilt which signifies endearment and fondness. He swallows hard which represents the nervousness he feels and the sadness he feels. And then you can see his lips twitch and turn into a light smile along with his eyes softening. So he understands that Cas is confessing to loving him. And he understands that Cas has been holding it in and hurting the whole time. Which is why he tilts his head. The hard swallow is because he’s being loved but wants to love back and has no idea how to express that. All he could manage was “don’t do this Cas” which along with the body language equals to “Cas don’t leave me”.

I'm crying again, damn...

Okay Dean is shocked, shocked because he just figured out Cas loves him, Cas had loved him this whole time!! Is a huge, huge revelation to him, because Dean didn't imagine his best friend would feel the same for him! That's why he always thought he couldn't have Castiel the way he wanted to.

"I can see the love inside of you, but is croaked in shame."

Shame because it was his best friend, a pure, beautiful angel, out of his league. But now... This angel is confessing he had been in love with him the whole time! And not just that but he dies after that!

Dean losing again the love of his life after knowing he loved him back, is a new level of shock and despair to him. So Dean's reaction is just accurate and perfect!

And the scene crying alone in silence, not answering Sammy's phone call is SO SO IMPORTANT! He forgot about Chuck, about the world ending, about everything, because he only could think about Cas, and how he just lost him, and how he loves him the way Dean loves him, this whole freaking time.

To Conclude:

This was the most beautiful Destiel scene until now, and i only hope for the second Destiel canon scene, in which Dean will said I LOVE YOU TOO to his angel, closing his ILY journey, and rescuing Castiel. Maybe with the reset button, maybe entering into the Empty. But this is not the end, my friends, is just their starting.

Hugs! Love you all!

Tagging @metafest @gneisscastiel @emblue-sparks @magnificent-winged-beast @weird-dorky-little-deana @michyribeiro @whyjm @legendary-destiel @a-bit-of-influence @thatwitchydestielfan @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @lykanyouko @evvvissticante @savannadarkbaby @dea-stiel @mybonsai1976 @anarchiana @angelwithashotgunandtrenchcoat @trashblackrainbow @destielshipper221b @mishtho @dancingtuesdaymorning @feathered-castiel @bre95611 @zoerayne2426 @justmeand-myinsight @that-one-fandom-chick @proccastinate @studio-hatter @pepevons @poorreputation @mrsaquaman187 @dizzypinwheel @jawnlockwinchester @dwstiel @thislunarkiss @ladygon @shippsblog @la-random-fangirl @lets-try-this-again-please @mychemicalobsession514 @destiel-shipper-11

@asphodelesauvage @2musiclover2

Buenos Aires November 6th 8:54 PM

#destiel #destiel meta #15x18 meta #spn spoiler #castiel meta #castiel #dean winchester #dean winchester meta #meta spec

[mrswhozeewhatsis]

Soft

A/N: This is for both the @spnfanficpond's S14 Weekly Episode Challenge, week 20, and also this month's Alpha Reader Program with @deanwinchesterswitch! Kym is a great Alpha reader, putting up with so much babbling of ideas with me!!

Summary: Chuck is depowered, Jack de-poofed Eileen and Y/N, and they all rescued Cas from the Empty. (The finale never happened fight me.) Now, with no more Big Bads on the horizon, Dean needs to figure out what his happily ever after looks like. Once he does, then he needs to go get it.

Pairing: Destiel x reader

Warnings: Pining. Idjits in love. Canon-divergent after 15x19. Fluff.

Word count: 4311 words

Prompt: "I'll stop talking." "Probably a good idea."

Dean watches her throw her arms around Cas’s waist and really snuggle into his embrace. It’s done. Chuck is depowered, Jack is in charge, Y/N is back, and now Cas is back. Everything is as it should be. Dean pats Cas on the shoulder, meeting his gaze with a smile he can feel is strained, locks eyes for a second with Y/N, and heads towards his room via the drink trolley. A little time resting in the only soft thing he’s ever been allowed to keep is definitely in order.

Sitting on his bed, back propped against the headboard and whiskey bottle in hand, he forces himself to consider everything he’s been trying not to think about for far too long. Cas will want to talk at some point, and Dean knows he can’t get it wrong. Well, no, he actually could get it all very disastrously wrong, but this time, he doesn’t want to.

And he has so very much to think about if he wants any chance to get this right. First, he needs to decide what “right” looks like.

If you’d asked him a few years ago what a good life looked like, he would have denied Cas’s place in it. There were just so many reasons why Cas couldn’t be a part of any picture he’d have painted back then. That was before, though. Before Cas told him, unequivocally, that he loved Dean in a way he thought he couldn’t have.

Maybe a year ago, if Cas had said those same words, Dean would have jumped into his arms and kissed the hell out of him. At that point, he’d finally admitted to himself that Cas was more to him. That Cas meant more than Dean’s fear of someone thinking he liked dick. Cas meant more than his hang-ups about how sex worked with a dude. Cas was more than a guy, and not simply because he wasn’t human. Angel or not, Cas was Dean’s person.

That was before, though. Before Mary died. Before Chuck had his little hissy fit. Before Dean acted like an ass… again. Before Y/N.

Now, Dean sits on his bed, not drinking the whiskey in his hand because he knows it won’t help. He needs to think clearly. He needs to decide how he feels. He’s loved Cas for years. But he’s beginning to think that maybe he loves her, too.

She appeared with the army of hunters that had arrived when Chuck opened Hell. She was relatively new to hunting, so when her partner died early on, she needed an experienced partner. With Dean barely speaking to him, Cas needed something to focus on, and he took her under his wing, so to speak. Which meant Dean barely spoke to her, either, outside of barking orders.

He was just so angry at the time, and it spilled onto her. Dean didn’t want Cas around him, but then he didn’t want Cas focusing on her, either. Or giving her that squinty head tilt. Hugging her while she grieved her partner. Talking to her about lore and weapons and sigils.

With Jack and Rowena dead, Y/N filled the fourth seat in the Impala just a little too quickly for Dean’s liking. And it had nothing to do with how fondly Cas looked at her when she fell asleep on his shoulder. Yeah, he understood that she needed training and experience, but there were a million other hunters fighting ghosts and zombies with them that she could have joined.

Dean was so mad, Cas left. And she went with him. And no, Dean did not spend several sleepless nights wondering about the sexual orientation of angels.

She and Cas were hunting partners for a while, but then Cas went to Heaven, so she moved into the bunker and never left. Dean tried not to dump his shit on her, knowing that it was his shit and not hers and he was being a dick, but she was everywhere—cooking in the kitchen, beating up the heavy bag in the gym, shooting curse words into the paper targets in the range. Dean didn’t want to laugh when she slapped one on his chest that read “DICK” as she walked out the door. He also didn’t want to deck Fancypants Dean from the other world when he asked her to go with them to Rio and then kissed her, dipped her like a 50’s heroine and everything, right in front of him!

And he definitely didn’t want to miss her when she left again with Cas. They were gone, again. Alone. Soon, he realized that he missed the smell of her cooking. He stared at the taped-over hole she left in the heavy bag when she tried attacking it while wearing heels. He tried to forget how lethal she was in the gun range. He failed to stop wondering how many beds were in the motel room they were sharing each night.

He got better about not being a dick to her when they returned. He even shared his pie. The first time she gave him one of her hundred-watt smiles, he nearly melted. She offered to help wash Baby, and he accepted. Not being a dick got easier as they became friends.

Then Chuck killed her. Just poofed her into nothing. A finger snap and Dean felt like he was back on the rack, a knife slicing into his heart. Why? Watching Cas mourn her was almost as hard as admitting that he felt the same way. He shouldn’t feel this way. They were friends. But the pain and grief in Cas’s eyes were mirrored in his chest. Not that he could say that to anyone. She was Cas’s… something.

Yet, before the Shadow swallowed him and Billie whole, Cas still said that his moment of complete happiness was loving Dean.

After Cas was gone, Dean sat on the floor in the dungeon and wondered at the complete lack of black goo anywhere. It had seemed to be everywhere but had left no trace. His mind bounced against the image of Cas getting swallowed whole and ricocheted into the image of Y/N poofing into thin air. Sam’s face when he picked up Eileen’s car keys, phone, and wallet. Jack’s face burning brightly when Chuck killed him in the graveyard. Mom’s face when he wrapped a shroud around the body that wasn’t hers. Charlie’s face as she lay in that awful motel bathtub. Bobby’s face as he called them idjits one last time. Dad’s face when the doctors tried to revive him, but he was already long gone.

Dean went on autopilot. He got up from the floor, drove to Sam and Jack, and then, he … did what needed to be done. On the drive away from Chuck’s defeat, Dean tried to imagine the life ahead of him without Chuck’s influence. Just him and Sam and Jack. He pictured them in the bunker, all in black and white like the old photos of the Men of Letters in the archives. Nothing big to fight, only little hunts. Maybe there would be the occasional trip to Hell to visit Rowena. Maybe Rowena could use a hand down there? Hell sounded nice, this time of year. You know, when everyone else is dead….

Dean didn’t let himself complete that thought. He still had Sam.

Then Jack brought back Y/N and Eileen. Color returned to Dean’s world. It wasn’t perfect, but it was better than Heaven or Hell. With Y/N in his arms, all he could think about was Cas. Dean needed Cas back, even if it meant watching them ride off into the sunset together. When Jack said he couldn’t get Cas as easily as he’d gotten Y/N and Eileen, she ended up crying in Dean’s arms, letting him comfort her. She comforted him. They comforted each other.

Before the big rescue, Dean decided that if Cas and Y/N chose to go off and live a happy life together, he’d wish them well, even if it meant drowning himself in whiskey.

But now they’re both here. When their departure was hypothetical, it was easy to convince himself that he could be supportive. Now that he was up against the reality of it, he could barely breathe. Yes, the two of them alive and happy together without him is better than the two of them dead, but….

Dean puts down the whiskey and grabs an open bottle of what is probably very stale water off his desk. He drinks it down and then stares at the whiskey bottle. He tries to breathe through the pain in his chest caused by the prospect of visiting Cas and Y/N in their little country cottage with the white picket fence and beehives in the backyard. Oh, how he wants to drink something stronger than water and make this pain stop.

No. He needs to say this to himself completely sober.

“I want them,” he announces to the room, quietly enough that no one outside could hear, but the words still echo in his ears. “No, I don’t just want them. I want a bacon double cheeseburger with extra onions and a slice of apple pie with a scoop of ice cream on top. I need them. I need Cas, and I need her, and I need to stop acting like I don’t.”

Picturing the little country cottage once more, he shakes his head. “I have to try. Cas said he loved me. Y/N at least doesn’t think I’m a dick. I can’t do nothing, anymore. I have to try. I have to tell them both and at least ask them to give me a chance.”

Dean pulls at his hair and sighs. “But that’s not how the world works. I can’t have them both. I need to decide who to talk to first. I need to choose.”

The angel that literally saved him from Hell but wears a vessel Dean doesn’t know how to handle, or the woman who would be the complete package if he weren’t already in love with Cas.

“How do I choose?”

And that’s all assuming that either of them even (still) wants him. Cas may have changed his mind after Dean stood there stupidly and said freaking nothing while the Empty swallowed him whole. And she’s never really indicated that she wanted anyone but Cas. And Cas has always seemed perfectly happy to indulge her attentions. Hell, maybe they will go off together to that cottage in the country and leave him alone. After the way he’s acted, it’s the least he deserves.

“If I even have a choice, I can’t choose.”

Pacing the room, he kneads the problem in his mind like a baker would knead dough. After only a couple of minutes, he tires of rolling around a thousand “what ifs” in his head and stops in front of his bedroom door, hand almost grabbing the knob to turn it.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” he asks himself, trying to give himself the courage to move. “They both say they don’t want me, they only want each other, and I’m left alone, like I’ve always been. Nothing changes for me.”

Swallowing down the blast of grief that idea causes, he takes a deep breath and watches from outside of his body as he turns the doorknob and walks down the hallway.

He hears her voice coming from her room long before he reaches it, but he’s almost in the doorway before he can make out the words she’s saying. She’s chattering in that way she does when she’s excited or nervous about something, and his heart clenches as he wonders what’s got her so jittery.

“It’s just that there’s so much to consider and so many possibilities and I’ve been waiting until now to think about it and oh god now I’m rambling and we really need to come up with a better phrase for that now that Chuck’s not in power andfuckinghellIthinkI’llstoptalking.”

Dean watches her put a hand over her mouth to stop the flow of words and can’t stop his smile. She’s adorable.

Cas sees Dean in the doorway, gives her a gentle smile, and says, “That’s probably a good idea.” He nods his head towards Dean, and she turns to look at him. They’re both sitting on the side of the bed, one of her hands is encased in both of his, and Dean feels his heart wrench at what that might mean.

He tries to read their expressions, get a feel for what’s happening in the room, but his own feelings are overwhelming him. They’re both right here, staring at him, while he’s staring at them, and no one is saying anything!

“Uh,” he starts —oh, you’re doing great there, Dean, so eloquent— before clearing his throat and taking a steadying breath, “I don’t want to interrupt you guys?”

Cas smiles, but Y/N gulps and shakes her head.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas says in that way that always makes Dean feel warm inside. “It’s okay. What do you need?”

Dean tries again to read their expressions, but all he can feel is tension. Is it coming from him? “I, uh, need you,” he says to both of them, bouncing his gaze back and forth between them.

Cas stands up, letting go of Y/N’s hands, and pats her on the shoulder. “I’ll let you guys have some time alone. We can finish this later, right?”

Y/N nods, but Dean stops Cas from leaving the room with a hand on his arm. “No, Cas, I mean both of you.” Wishing that he could simply snap his fingers and have both of them automatically understand, he stares into Cas’s eyes like he’s done so many times before, trying to will his jumble of thoughts into the angel’s head.

Cas must only get static, though, because he smiles his same old fond smile, puts his hand on Dean’s left shoulder like he always does, and replies, “Of course, Dean. I’m always here when you need me. How can I help?”

Dean groans, wiping down his face with his hand while his shoulders droop. “Fuck, this is hard,” he mutters, then leads Cas back to where he’d been sitting on the bed, drags over the desk chair, and sits facing them both. “Look, I don’t do chick flick stuff, and you guys both know that, so bear with me, okay?”

Cas and Y/N both nod, and Dean wishes he had the whiskey bottle with him. Maybe a little in vino veritas would help him get through this. Staring at the two of them, he doesn’t even know where to start. He looks back and forth at each of them again, noting that they’re holding hands once more, and focuses on that.

“Look, guys, I know you two are,” he waves a hand around trying to indicate what he means, “together? Involved? Whatever you want to call it since we’re not in high school and we’ve all worked to derail an apocalypse or two. And I don’t want to mess with that. Well, not exactly. Wait, that’s not what I meant.” He takes a steadying breath and mutters, “Fuck, this is hard,” yet again.

He looks up and finally notices that both Cas and Y/N are now considerably less relaxed than they were a minute ago. Both sit stiff-backed, trying to look at anything but each other, and their hands are no longer linked.

“Wait, you guys are together, right?” Dean asks, suddenly questioning every moment he’s ever seen between them.

Y/N clears her throat and replies, “Well, that’s kind of what I was trying to talk to Cas about when you came in.” Her eyes bounce between Cas and Dean nervously and she shifts her position on the bed a little so she’s facing towards Cas a little more. “Cas, part of what I was trying to say is that I have, you know, feelings for you, that are, well, more than friendship.” Her words rush faster and faster until she gets to the end. “I held it in for so long, and then I was dead, and you were dead, and it was all awful, but now we’re back, and we’re here, and I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel what I feel.” She ends with a small gasp of much-needed air and then stares fearfully at the angel while she carefully exhales.

Cas tilts his head and squints, and Y/N slowly deflates a little bit more with every moment Cas takes to reply. Dean had no idea what he was walking into but somehow feels a little better knowing he’s not the only one feeling the need to put things on the table. The only concern now is that he might be watching the two people he wants so very much get together right in front of him, without him. Well, I’ll always have Sammy and visits to Rowena in Hell, he thinks.

“Cas? Please say something,” Y/N pleads, the panic becoming clear to Dean as her breathing quickens and her hands fumble in her lap.

“I thought you were in love with Dean?” Cas blurts out, leaving all three of them exchanging looks between them.

Dean sits up straighter and glances between Cas and Y/N, but focuses more on Y/N. “Really?” He can’t stop the word from leaving his mouth. He’s too excited by the possibility. Doing the math in his head, his heart starts to race happily. Half a chance Cas really loves him like he said, half a chance Y/N loves him like Cas said, that equals a whole chance he might actually get at least half of what he wants.

Completely ignorant to the social graces surrounding admitting other people’s feelings for other people to those other people, Cas just keeps going, turning to Dean. “Yes. I’ve noticed her engaging in some of the social actions that usually indicate romantic affection towards you. I assumed that meant she had feelings for you.”

Dean looks at Cas, then throws his hands up in the air. “Well, I’ve been watching the two of you cuddle up together all the time like two peas in a damn pod, so I knew she had feelings for you! And you’ve been cuddling right back, so I figured that meant the two of you were a thing, no matter what you said!”

Face glowing a bright red, Y/N interrupted the staring contest between the two men. “Well, I’ve been watching all the eye-fucking between you two since day one, so I thought you two were a thing! I mean, seriously, you two need to kiss or fuck or something so the rest of us can breathe clear air, again!”

Both Dean and Cas turn to stare at Y/N.

“What? You two had no problem talking about my feelings! Turnabout’s fair play!”

Cas takes hold of Y/N’s hand to ground her and says, “So, you have romantic feelings for both of us, then?”

Fear washes over her face as she nods, nervously glancing between the two of them.

Cas smiles. “And I have romantic feelings for both of you,” he states. The two of them smile at each other for a moment and then turn to Dean in unison. Their hands are clutched together, knuckles white with tension.

With two pairs of striking eyes staring at him, Dean squirms.

“Dean, we would very much appreciate you telling us what you’re thinking and feeling, right now,” Cas said, using his calmest and most caring voice. “I believe the phrase is, ‘this is a safe space.’”

Dean takes a steadying breath, looks at each of them individually, and decides there’s no use running now. He’s here. He knows there will be a soft landing when he jumps. He’s jumped into worse with less and come out winning. He can do this.

Dean takes Y/N’s free hand in one of his and squeezes it while he decides what words to use. She relaxes, her shoulders dropping, but Dean notices Cas stiffen out of the corner of his eye. Dean stiffens right along with him, bringing his eyes up just in time to see the flash of disappointment in Cas’s eyes before it disappears.

Fuck, he’s screwing this all up, already.

Words are still foreign things he can’t seem to grasp, so he decides to act instead. Still holding Y/N’s hand, he reaches with his other hand to grasp Cas’s neck and pull him in.

The kiss is awkward as hell. Cas’s eyes are wide open when Dean closes his, and then teeth clash, and Cas stays frozen while Dean tries to gently kiss some life into him. Right before Dean is about to pull away and question all his life choices, Cas melts. Cas’s hand is suddenly in Dean’s hair, pulling Dean closer as the kiss turns into the warmest, loveliest kiss Dean’s ever experienced. Cas’s lips are as soft as Dean ever imagined, the little bit of rough stubble a new but not awful feeling, and Dean’s pretty sure he could do this for hours and never come up for air. Maybe it would kill him, but he’d be okay dying this way.

Eventually, the kiss turns to little nibbles, and then they simply sit there for a moment, foreheads together and eyes closed, feeling the warmth of each other.

“I didn’t think you could feel what I feel,” Dean whispered. “And then you said you could, and you did, and then you were gone, and it was too late.” He shifts only enough to press his lips to Cas’s again one more time. “You can have everything you want, angel,” he says, pulling back enough to look Cas in the eyes.

Cas’s smile is as wide and happy as Dean’s ever seen it. They stare at each other for another one of those long moments where Dean swears Cas must be able to freeze time. Cas’s eyes shift away from Dean, and he’s reminded that he’s staring at only half of his happiness.

The other half is still holding his hand, watching him and Cas with wide eyes and a shy smile. With nothing left to lose, Dean leans in and feels the rest of his world click into place as his lips settle perfectly on hers. The kiss with her is different, and yet also the same in how right it feels. She opens her mouth a little, and their tongues slide together like they’ve done this a hundred times before. When they finally break apart, he doesn’t know what to say, so he just lets his smile loose. She smiles back, and he knows she understands.

Everything in him wants to keep going back and forth, kissing them both, but there’s always that little voice inside his head —which sounds a bit like Chuck, these days— that tells him that this isn’t real. It makes him slow down a bit, lean back in his chair, and enjoy looking at the two people in front of him. He watches the two of them kiss and is surprised when his gut doesn’t churn with jealousy this time.

Each time he had imagined what they did behind closed doors, he was miserable. Yet, here he is, watching them kiss, feeling happy. The part of him that was jealous and hurt now knows that they both want him, too. He’s not on the outside looking in, anymore.

The little voice that sounds like Chuck gets a little louder. ‘What is this, a three-way roll in the hay like with the Doublemint twins back before Hell, or those triplets with Lee? Yeah, this isn’t how real life works, pal.’

Cas and Y/N finally pull away from each other but continue to stare into each other’s eyes for a long moment. Now, Dean knows how other people have felt while he’s stared at Cas in the past. Part of him wants to laugh at that, but that evil little voice has convinced him that this is temporary. They’re all holding hands, now, like some kind of hippie prayer circle or Zen meditation thing, grinning like idiots at each other, and it can’t last.

Dean’s smile falters, and he looks down at their hands, trying to memorize this moment before it all comes crashing down. Before he has to choose. Before they have to choose. Before he loses everything.

Cas lets go of his hand and uses it to lift Dean’s chin so he sees Cas’s face again. “You can have this, Dean. We can have this, exactly like this. We don’t have to choose. It won’t be easy, but nothing worthwhile ever is, right?” Cas’s hand drops down and grasps his hand, again. “Polyamory is not unheard of and is accepted in many cultures.”

Dean looks back and forth between Cas and Y/N, gauging their feelings about this from their expressions.

Y/N giggles and shrugs when Dean looks at her, questions in his eyes. “I’m game to try if you are. I’m guessing it’s going to involve a lot of honesty and talking, but I could never choose between you.”

Dean’s shoulders relax and he takes what feels like the first deep breath of his life. He’s fallen, hard and fast, expecting the pain of a crash landing, but found a safety net instead. It’s thrilling, it’s scary, and his heart wants to burst out of his chest, but it’s all good.

Squeezing both of their hands, he grins. “Let’s do this, then.”

Later, when he and Y/N are curled into Cas in bed, who’s reading a book because he doesn’t sleep, Dean squeezes her hand on the broad chest between them and smiles when she squeezes back. When he’s asleep and dreaming about hunts and fights and beating the Devil, for the first time, when he falls, he lands softly.

#pond s14 weekly challenge #alpha reader program #mrswhozeewhatsis writes #incoherent babbling by mrswhozeewhatsis #destiel x reader #dean x reader #destiel fluff #dean fluff

[supremeinlilac]

Don’t ask me what could have been

Pairing: Billie Dean Howard x Fem!Reader

Word count: 2037

Warnings: Death, angst, idk its just a lil bit sad

A/n: I challenged myself to write a fic without dialogue, because my writing is super descriptive anyway, so I enjoyed writing this so much, you have no idea, even though it’s sad. Enjoyyy :))

For @grilledcheeseandguavajelly​ @shineestark​ I love you and you deserve the stars <33

Your death had been an accident.

Wrong place, wrong time. An unsettled ghost that you’d simply gotten too close to. Curiosity had indeed killed the cat after all, and now it had taken you too.

It was the first and last time Billie had requested you join her on a job, to watch her work. You’d eagerly accepted, excited to watch her work, slightly nervous about it being your first real experience with ghosts of any kind. She’d let you explore the giant house while she spoke with who she believed to be the problematic ghost, one of a small child.

It was in the bedroom you’d met the real ghost but he’d looked and sounded so real that you’d mistaken him for someone alive. His timidness soon turned to anger once he realised you weren’t there to held him, and you couldn’t even blurt out that Billie was just downstairs and that she could help. Everything happened so quickly. Too quickly.

Your last words were the whispers of her name but she had been too far away to have heard them. You’d slipped away without a goodbye. You still yearned for that goodbye, everyday you’d find the whispers of her name falling from your lips unconsciously, as if begging for her to hear you.

She couldn’t have helped. It didn’t help to ponder over what if’s.

Even so, you knew the memories of that day consumed her still. When she would wake from bouts of fitful sleep she’d reach out across the sheets for your comforting hand, your warmth, only to be met with none. She pined for your embrace, the way you’d coo her nightmares away with gentle kisses and your nails against her scalp.

The first smoking break she’d take at work, when the dew still clung to the delicately swaying grass and the mist of the morning had not yet cleared, she’d remember the way the droplets of tears would slip down the crease of your smile as your laughter rippled through your body.

Billie Dean couldn’t wear her pearls anymore. She couldn’t have them lay so close to her heart without the memory of you always sitting upon her lap, twirling them between delicate fingers and pressing a lingering kiss to her collarbone. Just as you always did when she wore them, which was why she wore them so often. She never got the chance to admit that to you. She wished she did.

They now lay untouched in a box beside the last book you’d been reading, unfinished. There was so much more of it you had yet to read. So much more life you had yet to experience.

When she’d open your wardrobe to the fading smell of your clothes, press a bunched up top in her fingers and bring it to her nose. Imagining that you were there, giggling and teasing about that specific habit, asking why she insisted on doing that when she had the real thing.

Had.

The past tense reminded her cruelly that you weren’t hers anymore. Weren’t anyone’s. Just weren’t.

No one was holding you, soothing you, making you laugh or stopping the flow of your tears. She ached to be able to hold you again. For one more time she would trade all her fame and success, didn’t care how cliché that sounded, because for you she would.

There were times she’d shrug on an outfit for a meal with her colleagues, turning as if to seek approval from you before her smile would faulter and her shoulders sag, and she’d have to fight herself to enjoy the meal in your absence. Her fingers pressing against her purse, and the knowing that your smiling photo lay just within. A photo she’d taken when you’d been unaware, that she’d kept to brush over and admire the way your cheeks would redden and crinkle, a silent laugh beaming over your face.

When she’d visit the house, you’d watch her from a distance. You didn’t trust yourself to be close to her. To be allowed to smell her, the lingering musk of her cigarettes and the sweet tang of her perfume.

She’d talk to you, telling you about her show and about celebrities she’d met on her travels and at events. You’d smile at her theatrics, the way she’d catch herself waving her hands around dramatically while in the throng of one of her stories.

She never spoke about meeting anyone. Not that you needed to be told that she wasn’t interested in dating. You could tell she’d thrown herself into her work to ease the insistent pain. The loss. You were proud of her.

On this particular day, the atmosphere was different. Eerie. You watched as she crossed the threshold into the property, hand lingering on the door a second too long. The other ghosts could sense it too, the change, and they scattered into the far corners of the house, leaving you alone with the woman who now ascended the stairs toward the bedroom she always zeroed in on, fingers tracing the wallpaper and cracked frames that hung.

You knew why she’d come. Knew why this time it felt so different. So final.

The thought of her leaving for good made your throat close up, sobs catching as you forced yourself to be stronger. To savour these fleeting moments in her presence as if they were to be your last. It was cruel to think that they would be.

In the bedroom she sat on the edge of the bed, as always, lips parting to hold a cigarette between teeth while she lit it with trembling hands. Oh how you wanted nothing more than to still them between your own, to comfort her.

You didn’t. Settling for simply watching her inhale deeply, the flickering trail of smoke that danced out of the crack in her mouth, dissipating into the air. You watched her lean to the side table to snub out the orange ember, fizzling out against the cool ash tray.

Approaching her, you knelt at her feet, the position you’d so often adopt when she’d had a trying day at work, head in her lap and fingers clutching at her pants while she’d stroke at your hair and relax. Your proximity to her felt so natural, like coming home. She felt like home.

She could smell your lingering perfume, as fresh as the day you’d died, enveloping her in your familiarity. Could feel the warmth of your breath against her neck, fingers reaching to brush over the goosebumps left. She swore if she just reached out, that she’d feel the curve of your jaw, a hand coming to rest upon hers as she’d caress your face.

She did, and her fingers curled around nothing, so she did it again, willing you to appear with the frantic clenching of her hand as if the more she did it the more likely you were to be. When her attempts bore no fruit, she let her arm drop limply to her side, a finality.

A small, sad smile painted her lips, and she suddenly looked so small and broken, like a child lost in the bustle of a crowd. Alone.

You wanted to reach for her too, to press the pads of your fingers against those lips, to tug at the edges and hold her until the smile was true again. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do it, an invisible string holding you back from her, one which you couldn’t sever.

You loved her.

You couldn’t, and wouldn’t shackle her to this house while she was alive, to you. You loved her more than the selfish desire that swarmed inside you to just appear to her and tell her to stay. You knew she would.

It was the best for her if she believed you weren’t here, so that the grief would slowly thaw and she’d be able to find peace. Move on. Maybe find someone else. Maybe.

Billie Dean Howard. Medium to the stars.

God how you wished that the stars in her eyes would sparkle like they did when you were alive, and not just with the sheen of unshed tears.

Billie Dean Howard was the stars. She was the stars and the moon and the sun, the universe painted perfectly in silk and cigarettes. The stars would fling themselves to the ground for her, bowing in her presence.

Scrambling to your feet and out of her way when Billie had stood, she walked to the wall at the far end of the room, her back to you and you wondered what she was doing. She’d never done this on any of her other visits. You didn’t have to wait long to find out why.

You heard the whispered goodbye, bit back the tears that threatened to fall at the finality of it all. Watched her rest her forehead against the cool wall, as she so often used to do to you, fingers pressed into the wallpaper as if she wanted nothing more than to be sucked into the very walls of the house, to be trapped just as you were.

Billie turned around, looking straight at you as if you were as clear and bright as the sun, before reaching into the bag on her shoulder. The shimmer of her pearls held up against the low light of the room. She’d brought them to you. She knew you were still here, watching. She knew what you were sacrificing for her freedom to leave and live and exist outside these walls.

You smiled. She was leaving a piece of her to you, a piece of you both to tie and strengthen the bond you shared, even in death. The faint clatter of the beads on the chest of drawers had you following her movements again, hands hovering over the line of her shoulder blades through the top she was wearing.

When Billie finally turned around, this was the closest you’d been to each other since your death. There was no way she could know your were there. Yet here she was, reaching up and cradling the air that would have been your face if you’d just let her in, as if you were as real as herself. As if she could see you, touch you.

As quickly as she’d turned, she was lowering her hands and gathering her things off the bed. She did it slowly, meticulously, as if rushing was breaking some unspoken rule. Unfortunately, she could only slow her movements so much, only put off her inevitable departure for so long.

You weren’t sure why, it wasn’t as if Billie was drawing any comfort from being in the room in which you’d died. You could see the pained way she’d glance at the spot she’d found you, the spot in which she’d curled herself into your body and cried for help to no one. The spot in which she’d learned how fragile life was, how quickly and cruelly it could be snatched from under someone.

You didn’t follow when she’d given a last fleeting look around the room, her footsteps echoed against the wood as she walked back toward the stairs to leave. Instead holding onto the image of her face in your mind, committing it to memory as the stairs creaked with her weight.

Out of the bay window, you could see the final sway of her hips, swish of her hair, golden now against the setting sun. She didn’t turn back to give one more pleading glance towards the house. You think that if she had done, she wouldn’t have been able to bring herself to leave.

You hoped that maybe, when the time came, Billie would return to you to die, wrinkled hands still holding the same warmth and gentleness that they always did for you. You hoped she’d remember the way your lips felt against her own, the way your bodies moulded perfectly as if designed for the very purpose of being close. You begged that she’d be drawn back in the final days, so that you could be together again, as you should be.

But for now, this was your goodbye. The goodbye you’d been robbed of.

taglist : @pearplate @billiedeansbottom @pluied-ete​ @extraordinarilycelestrial​ @toujours-ensanglante​@mssallymckenna @okpaulson  @magnificent-paulsonn @shineestark​ @commanderspeach @grilledcheeseandguavajelly @amethyst-bitch​​ @its-soph-xx​ @germansarechill @bluesxrgnt​ ,if you want to be added just send me an ask :))

#sarah paulson #sarah paulson x reader #billie dean howard #billie dean howard x reader #american horror story #ahs murder house

[heller-a-good-time]

I offer a theory about tonight’s episode and the finale and yes it’s a long shot but I’m just writing this to make both myself and all of you feel a little better.......

From the very beginning of this episode, something felt off.

Dean tells Sam and Jack what happens to Cas and everyone has a very underwhelming reaction to it. Not to mention, they gloss over how exactly Cas died.

For the entirety of the episode they don’t seem very effected by Cas’s death.

Next, we’re told that Lucifer was brought back from the empty despite the fact that only a few episodes ago we were told chuck had no way of doing that. We can obviously chalk that up to bad writing and most likely it probably is. But it’s crazy that they seriously created a plot hole for episodes that are so close to one another. This is usually something we see happen between different seasons.

Also, despite everything that Lucifer has done in this show, the brothers are almost too quick to trust him. Granted they do have some doubts at the very beginning but the brothers would usually put up a bit more fight than that considering how much Lucifer has taken from them over the years. Dean has struggled to trust Jack for several seasons because of what he’s done and specifically what happened to Mary. And yet Dean trusts Lucifer in the space of a couple of minutes.

Then, there’s the ending.

When Chuck finally decides to end Dean and Sam, he says he can “Get his hands dirty” despite the fact that in an episode earlier in the season, Sam accuses him of being too afraid to get his hands dirty.

Chuck is defeated almost too quickly for being God. And the way he begs for Sam and Dean to kill him as they drive away also just doesn’t seem like God.

Also, this entire season, we’ve seen Dean absolutely furious over what Chuck has done to him and his family’s lives. He has been so hellbent on killing him that he pointed a gun at his own brother just two episodes ago. Even last episode, he tried to take Death on by himself because he was so motivated to kill Chuck. And then when he’s finally at that moment he’s been waiting for, he barely seems to care. Granted, it could be argued that Cas’s death might’ve made him finally realize how reckless he’s been the entire season. But everytime Dean has ever lost someone he usually has two responses. Getting himself killed or revenge (with the exception of Sam’s deaths where he obviously desperately tries to bring him back but I’ll talk more about that in a second) It’s been a consistent pattern with him throughout the show. And yet all of them are absent here. They’re not even acknowledged.

And also, them sparing Chuck wasn’t them being heroic. Killing him would have been mercy in this instance. Instead, they force him to live as mortal with no family—because he killed the only son who still trusted him, and he has to spend the rest of his life knowing he couldn’t defeat Sam and Dean. This specifically reminds me of that scene when Dean was demon back in season 10 when he spared the man who had traveled all that way and trained his entire life just to kill Dean for what he did to his father. And Dean spares him. Not because it was the good thing to do. Because the man would spend his entire life knowing he missed his one shot and that was ultimately a worse punishment than death. And they do the same thing to Chuck in this episode.

When Jack brings everyone back, the boys don’t even seem to care that now all of their friends and Eileen are alive. Sam doesn’t even mention her despite the fact that two episodes ago when he first heard about everyone “going back to where they belong” his first concern was Eileen. He was also completely gutted last episode knowing she was gone and he doesn’t even mourn her in this episode.

Also, when Jack becomes God, Dean doesn’t even ask him to bring Cas back. Despite the fact that this is once again one of his common responses we’ve seen consistently throughout the show when he loses someone. And especially considering how Cas died, Dean should especially want him back. Even when not interpreting his feelings romantically, Cas has been his best friend for 11 years. And they finally have the peace that Cas helped them fight (and sacrificed his own life) for. Dean would want Cas back. Especially since he knows now from earlier on in this episode that God has the power to do that.

Jack then decided to not go to the bunker with them. Despite the fact that for the three seasons he’s been in, the only thing he’s ever wanted was a family and to be accepted. (Let’s not even mention the fact that the brothers were both just chill with a 3 year old running the universe now. Even if it is Jack. He’s literally three. But whatever.)

The boys head back to the bunker and celebrate their “big win” if you can even call it that. They are completely content with being all alone. They lost Cas. They kind of lost Jack too. And they’re fine with it.

Literally last season, a bunch of hunters from the alternate dimension that they barely knew were all murdered and they were more upset about the bunker being empty after that than they are at the end of this episode.

They do a toast to all of the people they’ve lost along the way in a bit too good of a mood, which is something that these characters would never do. We’ve seen them grieve every person they’ve ever lost prior to this episode and they always believe the blood in on their hands. Yet now they’re suddenly content with the people they’ve lost. Even if it was their own faults.

The entire show has been about family. And yet half of their family is missing in this ending and they’re okay.

The entire show has also been about how the two of them have a crippling codependent relationship and how that always seems to start trouble. Instead of the brothers finally acknowledging this relationship. They now live happily in the bunker. Probably still codependent on each other.

Which means neither of them were forced to learn a damn thing.

My point is this episode feels very off.

And people who have watched 15 seasons of this show more than likely recognize that.

And there’s so many things that seem wrong and ooc that it almost feels as if it’s on purpose.

And that’s why I’m starting to wonder.....

What if it is?

There’s one more episode to go and what if, just maybe, they reveal that the episode that we just watched tonight isn’t what really happened. Maybe it’s the cheesy “it was all a dream” trope. Who knows?

The biggest reason why I believe this (besides the fact that I’m just a salty bitch and I need to find a way to calm myself down) is because this ending aligns almost perfectly with what Becky said about Chuck’s final ending earlier on in the season.

I now provide you the examples:

Just saying.....

I think that this might just be another variation of Chuck’s endings that they were forced to play out. Or something like that.

Because there’s just so many things that don’t fit with the entire rest of the show.

From what I’ve seen online thus far, people are very upset with this episode. Because they’ve watched 15 seasons of this show and they can tell when something just isn’t right.

And in a way, if this episode was purposely made to feel off to then reveal in the finale that none of this was real, it would pay respect to the fans who watched the show for all these years. Because they’re so familiar with the characters and the way plot lines usually play out that when all of a sudden it felt like Opposite Day watching this episode, they picked up on it and they were supposed to.

(Also another thing that I just realized I forgot to add, maybe this is just me, but a lot of the scenes in the montage at the end were very random??? Like a lot of them were insignificant scenes from the show. Ya know? I just think if any of us put together a montage for this show it would probably feature very different scenes. Like way more important ones. Maybe this fits into my theory? Maybe I’m absolutely reaching too damn far with this one. Idk. Please tell me I’m crazy)

Maybe this episode relied on fans having extensive knowledge of this show and it’s past. Maybe this episode wants you to believe something is off about it. Because they’re going to rip the rug right out from under you in the finale.

Hell, maybe this entire season has been a lie. We’ve seen Dean specifically do things he would never do in previous episodes. Point a gun at Sam. Tell Jack he’s not family. Be completely on board with sacrificing a family member. And Sam has been practically wallpaper in this season but maybe let’s not get into that too much. And hell, I’m gonna say it: Destiel went kinda canon when we never in a million years ever thought it would. Maybe all of these things are supposed to tell us all of this season wasn’t real? Maybe. Dunno. I think I’m actually just going insane? Yeah that’s probably it.

I’m really just spit balling here. Mostly because I was very upset by this episode. But maybe some of you feel the same and even if this is nowhere close to where the show is heading in its ending, I just wanted to maybe provide some comfort to those who feel the same as me.

Or maybe I’m completely wrong and this episode was just bad.

#supernatural #spn season 15 #spn #deanwinchtser #sam winchester #dean winchester #castiel #destiel #destiel fic #television #spndaily #spn 15x19 #spn 15x20 #inherit the earth #supernatural 15x19 #supernatural 15x20 #supernatural season fifteen #spn famdom #spnfamliy #spnfandom #fandom #fan theory #jack kline #supernatural spoilers #sam x eileen #saileen

[hellhoundsprey]

No. 5 - I’VE GOT RED IN MY LEDGER

betrayal | misunderstanding | broken nose

a/b/o dynamics, omega!dean, beta!cas, doctor!cas, alpha!sam, always female sam, jealousy, violence, claiming bites, mentioned mpreg, implied past rape

~

~

Sam doesn’t try to evade the punch. No: she welcomes it.

The sound is as nauseating as it is satisfying. It’s Dean who ends up yelping. Castiel winces from a not-so-safe distance.

“You happy?! Huh?!” Dean cradles his hand. Sam remains apathetic until the blood shoots up her sinuses. She chokes, covers her mouth. Leans away to spit, and her nose looks broken, and Castiel tells them so, and Dean says, gravelly: “Good.”

Castiel tends to both siblings. The misery in Sam’s scent doesn’t quite outpower her general satisfaction over what she’s done. Castiel clenches his teeth and finishes patching her up. Clean break. Her face swells rapidly.

“You know I had to do it,” the Alpha repeats, her huge hand careful on Castiel’s healthy arm—he flinches, regardless. Sam blinks. A little girl in there, somewhere. From ages ago. Tender, if she chooses to be. “They would have sniffed it out. I had to.”

Just because Sam is right doesn’t make it right.

Dean continues to withdraw. Barely responds, refuses to drink. It’s ninety degrees in the car and Castiel has to climb into the back with the Omega to hook him up with another IV. Sam keeps facing the steering wheel, but her eyes do flicker to the rearview an awful lot.

If Dean’s body could, it would wind out and away from every touch. Castiel can’t omit much from his already-careful ministrations. There is only so much space he can give Dean, now. Even if they do make it to their destination tonight, forcing Dean push through will be a gamble with his life.

They make it. Castiel grabs his bags and gives the Jeep a last, grateful pat on the overheated hood before they leave it behind. The stolen plates they don’t bother to take with them.

The border patrol gives them an understandably curious look. Castiel smacks their passports down onto the narrow surface in front of their window.

“We got mugged. Please proceed. He needs medical attention.”

The patrol’s eyes switch back and forth between the papers and Sam and Dean. The weak whistle whenever Dean manages a breath, the steel of Sam’s eyes, her posture. Dean’s limp arm over her shoulders, her hold—on him. Carrying, like Castiel had done, back at the house. Ages ago, it feels like, instead of the actual twenty-something hours. Castiel nods at Sam, and Sam doesn’t nod back, but they get their passports and they continue, and nobody stops them.

Castiel’s contacts arranged everything as discussed. Sam is visibly taken aback, but she doesn’t address Castiel until after they put Dean to bed, until after Castiel set him up as best he could to ensure Dean makes it through the night. When he turns to stand, Sam is already there, waiting. In the door frame, her arms crossed. She took her jacket off, finally. They lock eyes, and Castiel can tell the Alpha isn’t out for a fight, not now, and he can only hope it’ll stay that way. At least until Dean is conscious again. Or, better yet: stable.

“Sorry about your arm,” she says, in the kitchen, trailing him. Water. Food. They should eat. Castiel searches the cabinets for something quick and substantial. “I’m real sorry, man. I’ve never… I had no idea I could get like that. Seriously.”

Castiel turns to face Sam. She cringes, seems to hold onto her arms more than keeping them crossed. Her left eye is swollen so bad she must barely be able to see out of it. Part of Castiel delights for the sight.

It’s dark, blue. Deep night, faint music from a tourist dive bar across the street. Terracotta tiles. Like a vacation home, because it is. Was. Is, sometimes, when it’s not used for situations like—theirs. Now.

“What you did was incredibly stupid. You almost killed him. I fear less about my arm than about the risk you obviously pose to your own brother, Sam.”

Sam winces. She seems smaller, now, with all her fuses blown, with her brother marked and barely-alive in a bed behind an ajar door but at least he’s safe, at least they—made it this far. Castiel caves, frowns; puts down the cans of food. They should sleep. They should all just—sleep.

“What—were you thinking? I had it all set up, we were gonna give him suppressors, pheromones, it wasn’t—Christ, you’re his sister, not his—”

“I had to.” Castiel stares, but Sam just keeps shaking her head, staring back. “I had to, doc, I… When I saw him, caught his scent again, I knew I—I’m not taking any more chances. I’m just not.”

Castiel sighs. He frowns down at the cans, gestures. Sleep. Eat. You don’t have to think. In fact, you can’t, so what’s the point? “Would you help me with this, please?” he asks, and the Alpha’s rigid stare dips a little softer with it. She steps in as Castiel steps back to lean against the kitchen counter, to drag his healthy hand down his face. Sleep. Just this, then you can sleep. “I can’t exactly—do it with one hand. … Thank you.”

The sleep Castiel finds that night is shallow, but it suffices in making him clear enough to look after Dean like Dean needs. Castiel moves quietly on habit. Sam snores through her broken nose on the floor next to the bed on the side where Castiel is not working. She took off her boots at some point, her jeans. Dragged a sheet and a pillow from a linen closet, because Castiel on the couch surely didn’t notice. Castiel counts Dean’s heartbeats. He exchanges the IV bag and the bedpan. When he returns with the washed-out latter, Sam is awake, sitting on the bed. Holding Dean’s hand, the bruised one. Castiel narrows his eyes and proceeds with his care. Sam doesn’t try to interfere.

“Move, please,” Castiel says. Sam just looks at him. Castiel points at the bandages Sam’s thumbs are skirting around oh-so-carefully. “I need to change the dressing. Yours, too, while I’m at it.”

Sam suffers, but she only moans about it a tiny bit, fully aware that this is of her own making. Broken noses are nasty, though. Castiel hands her something for the headache. She swallows it dry without hesitation.

“You are very much alike, I will give you that.”

“Yeah. I mean, he raised me, basically.” Sam nods, still drowsy with sleep. If Castiel asked, she might fix them a round of coffee. “After Mom died, and then after Dad disappeared…it was just us. We only had each other.”

“‘Disappeared’?”

“Loan sharks.”

Castiel deflates, nods. He sits back down with Sam, runs his hand back over his head, his messy, grimy hair. He looks back at Dean. Sam does, too.

“When Michael came and found us, when he saw—Dean, it was a done deal. Was supposed to be about paying back, he said, at first, but Dean never came back, so I figured.” In Castiel’s peripheral, Sam nods. Slow, deep in thought. In memories. Dean’s face is perfectly motionless in his sleep. A false peacefulness, but a peacefulness at last. “I searched, but I never came up with anything. Nothing. Not one hint where they were. So, eventually, I thought: okay, I’ll go into law, I’ll find sources and contacts, and I’ll… And now, he’s just—here.” She blinks, fascinated. She again holds Dean’s hand in hers. “It’s crazy. I never thought I’d…”

She doesn’t continue. She doesn’t have to.

~

Everything takes Dean time. More time than he’d like. Sam has to actively hold him down when Castiel breaks it to him that no, he can’t stand up yet. Dean likes that even less.

“Are you kidding?! Why did you get me out of that damn hole if I can’t even use my own fucking LEGS now?!”

Castiel warns, “You will fall and you will hurt yourself,” and Dean proves his point once they leave him to calm down. He growls, snarls. Feral, a fox with a beartrap on its leg, and as useless as Castiel’s, “Dean, please be logical about this,” is, Sam’s open-handed slap to Dean’s cheek is effective.

Castiel flinches; gawps. Stares at Sam, who is calm, pinched; and Dean is shocked too but he stops arguing, at last. Lets them haul him back into bed, still obviously angry and denying any further conversation or contact, but there is no other accident when Castiel and Sam leave once more. The lack of remorse in Sam’s scent sours Castiel. He’s never—siblings, for Christ’s sake. Orphans, left to their own devices, but—this is mayhem. As if Dean hadn’t gotten his fill with Michael already.

In the kitchen, subdued but pressing: “You will stop disciplining him in that way. I will not allow it.”

“Or what?”

“Or I—Jesus, girl, he was locked in a cell, for years, by a pathological sadist! What else do you have to know in order to NOT press every single one of his trauma response buttons?! Jesus Christ—” Castiel paces to the kitchen counter. He doesn’t put much care into being tender with the coffee machine. “Jesus, Mary and Joseph, you Winchester lot sure goddamn know how to be fucking sensible.”

#whumptober2021 #no.5 #broken nose #supernatural #fic #violence #mentioned mpreg #implied past rape #a/b/o dynamics #THE wincestiel thing #hellhoundsprey

[impalas-r-important]

Love of my Life - (13) Swan Song

Summary: Ya'll have seen Swan Song. It's a sad one.

Warnings: Death, sadness, angst, the works.

A/N: This is the last of what I have written. I have to take a few days off to study for a final, but then I'll be back. Don't you worry! This was a challenging one for me to write because I've never done a death scene before, so please let me know how I did.

Series Masterlist

“Hello?”

A faint voice in the distant pulled you from your sleep. You shifted uncomfortably and willed your eyes to open. A stranger stood over you.

“Oh, thank goodness. Are you okay? What are you doing out here?” The man asked.

You couldn’t recall where you were. Last you remembered, you were in the impala. As you slowly began to become more aware of the world around you, pieces of the past few hours fell into place. Your stomach dropped as you remembered Dean leaving you here to go save his brother. You shot up quickly.

“What time is it?!” You demanded.

“It’s about eleven forty five in the morning. Maybe you should stay sitting.”

Hopefully you weren’t too late. You fought your wobbly legs for balance, tripping on a large branch and falling into a bush. You felt your necklace that Dean had given to you slip down from your neck. You picked it up to find the clasp had been broken in your fall. You shoved it into your pocket and hoisted yourself up.

“Is there a… a cemetery close by?” You didn’t know the exact location of the prize fight, but you noticed that Dean had mentioned something about a cemetery right before you passed out.

“Yeah, Stull Cemetery, just outside town.”

“Thank you.” You breathlessly ran for the parking lot, hotwiring the first car you found and peeling off.

Millions of thoughts ran through your mind as you drove. You were cursing Dean under your breath for leaving you at that park, but at the same time, terrified that he might be dead. You had no protection aside from the pocketknife Bobby had given you all those years ago to practice throwing. You had no idea what you were walking into, and you had no idea what your plan was, but you knew that you couldn’t just let Dean go this alone.

As you pulled up to the overgrown bone yard, you opened your door just as two gun shots were fired. You took off running, just in time to see Lucifer snap Bobby’s neck. All the air left you body and you had to crouch down behind some overgrown bushes for five quick seconds to regain your composure. You continued on your war path to see Lucifer punched Dean, over and over. The crack of bones echoing through the air sickened you and you took off sprinting.

You pulled out your knife and threw it at the devil, hitting him in the side of the neck, and continued your run. Lucifer dropped Dean to the ground and reached his hand up to the knife, pulling it out and grimacing as he turned towards you. You knew you should feel scared as the devil walked straight at you, but you only felt heartache as you looked at Dean, spitting out blood through a swollen face.

“I thought you’d be smart enough to stay away.” Lucifer remarked.

Your chest heaved as you stood toe to toe with the embodiment of all evil. You knew you were looking at Sam’s body, but those eyes were too dark and hateful to be Sam’s. In that moment, you knew how stupid you were being, but you were fully committed. You wound your fist up and took a shot at Lucifer’s face. His head stayed turned for a moment before looking back to you with rage.

Lucifer took the knife you had thrown at him and stabbed it forcefully into your lower abdomen, slicing horizontally. The blade you had once loved and trusted was sliding through your stomach with such ease that you didn’t realize the blood spilling onto the earth beneath you was your own until the strength in your knees faded.

With a dismissing wave of his hand, Lucifer threw you across the graveyard into a large tree. The impact barely registered as the world around you slowed. Your eyes searched desperately for Dean, wanting his face to be the last thing you'd see, but your vision failed as the dead branches above you faded into an empty darkness. For most of your life, you were sure you would go out feeling brave and satisfied with the legacy you'd left behind, but all you could feel right now was fear. A wave of cold shot through your body and you died the same way you had spent most of your life - alone.

Dean had lost Bobby, the only father he could truly rely on. He had lost Cas, his best friend and most trusted ally, and then he watched as Y/N, the love of his life, bled out in front of him. Everything in him wanted to run to her, yet he was too weak to stand. His voice faltered as he desperately searched for the strength to yell for you. A gasp of terror escaped from his mouth as you were thrown across the graveyard like a broken toy.

"NO!" Dean screamed.

"Let's get this show on the road. No more distractions." Lucifer snapped his fingers and Y/N's body dissipated into the air, leaving no trace behind. She was gone.

Lucifer continued his merciless beating, but Dean didn’t fight back. Instead, he pleaded with his brother, the only person he had left, to fight this.

“Sam, it’s okay. I’m here.” Dean did what he was best at, comforting his brother. “It’s okay. I’m here. I’m here. I’m not going to leave you.”

Lucifer raised his fist, surely to deliver the blow that would end Dean's life, when the sun beamed down, reflecting perfectly off the impala into Sam's gaze. Floods of memories filled Sam's soul. Suddenly he was a child again, sitting next to his older brother in the car, playing with army men and carving their initials into the dashboard. Then he was a sixteen-year-old, sitting in the driver’s seat for the first time with Dean giving him a driving lesson. Every memory Sam had experienced in that car came flooding back – every nap taken, every prank pulled, and every smile exchanged were pulled to the front of his mind, giving him the strength to break free from the shackles in his mind and regain control of his body.

Sam dropped Dean to the ground and backed away, gasping for air. He lowered his fist and looked at his defeated brother.

“It’s okay, Dean. It’s gonna be okay.” Sam became the comforter for once. “I’ve got him.”

Sam pulled the rings from his pocket and tossed them on the ground, reciting the spell to open the cage, and moved to the edge.

“Sam!” Michael had returned. “It’s not gonna end this way. Step back!”

“You’re gonna have to make me.” Sam snarled.

Sam took one last look at his brother, which gave him the strength to close his eyes and force himself backwards. Michael tried desperately to stop him, but Sam instead grabbed his arm and pulled him down. The pit swallowed both of them.

Dean watched helplessly as the gaping hole to hell sealed up, trapping his brother in the cage for the rest of time. He crawled his way over to where his brother had stood just moments ago, and kneeled down, trying to feel any kind of connection with Sam. A gust of wind next to him caught his attention and he turned to find Cas.

“Cas, you’re alive?”

The angel touched two fingers to Dean’s forehead, healing all his wounds instantly. Cas walked over to Bobby’s cold body and brought him back to life. Dean knew he should be grateful that Cas and Bobby were back, but he felt nothing.

Dean stared out into the empty and forlorn field in front of him. It was left exactly as it was found, as if the biggest battle in the world hadn't been fought just moments before. As if the two people he loved most hadn't been ripped from his life to meet their cruel and undeserving fates. Still reeling from this living nightmare, Dean stood and dragged his feet to the tree that you had been thrown against. Maybe he had seen things wrong and Lucifer hadn't actually erased you from existence. Maybe you had just ducked behind a tree or gravestone and were hiding.

"Y/N?" Hope and fear intertwined in his broken voice as he called for you. He waited a few moments, hoping for a response. "Y/N/N please," Dean pleaded, "don't leave me…"

Dean's heavy eyes scanned the bloody ground around him. If he were in his right mind, he would have known instantly that no one could survive after losing this much blood. His gaze stopped upon a small silver chain and he pulled it delicately from its hiding spot. It was the trinity knot necklace he had given to you, which had fallen out of your pocket when you hit the tree. He held it in the palm of his hand, staring it at it for a few pensive moments before clasping his fingers over it and pulling it to his chest. In that moment, the small necklace that was supposed to represent love and hope only represented the final nail in your coffin. It was confirmation to Dean that you were actually gone. Grief ripped the strength from his knees and he fell to the ground, releasing a painful yell through the tears he just now realized were streaming down his face.

Dean didn't know how long he sat against the tree where you had taken your final breath, sobbing until he was drained of tears. He couldn't remember getting up and walking across the dark graveyard to the car and he didn't remember driving away. He was aware that he was moving, but he didn't feel in control.

There were only two things Dean knew in those moments after losing you. One was that he never would have made it to this point in his life without you by his side. The second was that there was no way he would be able to continue on without that love and devotion you had wholeheartedly given him since the day he had met you. Survival mode took over for him and his instincts knew he had to find that hope somewhere else.

The next thing he knew, he was knocking on Lisa's door.

Chapter 14

Tags:

@humbledarkness

@Mimaria420

@panicking-outside-the-disco

@vicmc624

@akshi8278

@idreamofdeanie

#dean winchester #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester x you #dean fic #spn fic #supernatural #supernatural fanfic series #supernatural funny

[katsidhe]

15.20 Final Thoughts

Supernatural is over, and somehow, despite itself, it did the very best it could to please me. That was always going to be an impossible task. But truly, sincerely, that finale was as close to my desires as the show could ever bring itself to come, and so, so much closer than I ever dreamed it would dare.

I am so, so glad that no other regular characters were involved (Bobby aside, but he was brief). How better to encapsulate their own emptiness? How fundamentally fitting, than in the epilogue to their final battle, wherein the entire world beyond them was erased, the wider universe is merely set dressing for them to move through. And it was so quiet this way. This finale wasn’t overcrowded or rushed. It kept its own peace. And it preserved the tangible claustrophobia that 15.19 invoked: that tangled, lovely, solipsistic, toxic conviction that these are the only two people on earth that matter.

It’s unclear exactly how much time passed between 15.19 and 15.20. I like to think it’s been at least a year, given that they’ve settled into routine and that their grief seems less fresh. (Although yes, the concept of Dean dying on his very first hunt without a resurrection available is hilarious, I must confess.) Their calm domesticity, their peace, was lovely to watch (Sam kicking the laundry machine! Sam with wet hair! Sam running! Sam cooking, Sam looking a little less bulky than usual, and happy!) But man, it really is Dean’s world, isn’t it? Even the DOG, which really, really, really could reasonably have been primarily Sam’s, was Dean’s dog first and foremost. Then on Dean’s say-so, they get in Dean’s car to drive to a pie festival for Dean. Sam is perfectly content to go along with all of it.

As if we hadn’t gotten enough delightful fanservice, we also got one last scene of Sam threatening to torture someone to death. :) what a king.

I love that Dean died to an OSHA violation while fighting a random loose end from season 1 (which, by the way, I CALLED IT, I am so proud of myself). It’s perfectly mundane. I truly and deeply do not understand anyone complaining that Dean should have gone out in a way that’s more epic. He’s been there, done that, guys, and remember how miserable it was? Now there’s no cosmic safety net. Dean died in a broken down old barn, saving some kids. Moments like these are when Dean is at his best, at his most fundamentally sympathetic: when he’s not trying to control the shape of the universe or dictate righteousness or let his anger drive himself down into a destructive spiral. He’s just putting his money where his mouth is. He’s not making a broad moral statement. He’s simply putting his life on the line to defend someone who needs defending. It is not an unworthy end. It’s so much better than going out to, god forbid, God.

Did Dean earn a lifetime of peace? The concept of just desserts is fraught. But I also don’t think it’s something Dean wanted. He wanted to keep killing things in tetanus-infested barns until he died. He got what he wanted. And while the arc of his wants has adapted over the years, MOTW hunting is fulfilling for him.

Dean’s deathbed speech was, oh man. It got me good. Like many of the things I loved in this episode, it was quiet. No desperation, no revising history (or not too much, anyway). Just, “stay with me, please. I love you. Tell me it’s okay.”

The quiet of Sam’s grief, alone in the bunker. How still his face is, until for a little bit it crumples again, and then it comes back and goes still. He’s not trying to control his reactions or press back against his sorrow. There is no work to do, nothing to avenge, no one to find, nothing to defeat. He is alone, and the washes of visible grief simply come and go in waves that he doesn’t try to fight or force.

I need the gif of him flinching at the toaster. His startle reactions are my favorite thing. He’s alone underground, there is not a living soul for miles and miles, he’s just buried his brother, not for the first time, but this time, he knows, for the last. And the goddamn toaster goes off and he cannot control the way his heart leaps up into his throat and the way every one of his muscles tightens.

Sam grows old. Sam. Grows old. Sam grows old! SAM GROWS OLD.

Ohhh my God, Sam grows old. Without Dean! Without hunting! Without Cas! With people outside that claustrophobic world, beyond the four tight walls of SPN, beyond the people approved by Dean and by Fandom, who give him peace and love and fulfillment! SAM GOT OUT. Even with the truly terrible wig the image brings me to actual tears. I cannot believe SPN would allow him to have this. I cannot believe that the show let him be happy without Dean. I want to read the set of novelizations about Sam’s recovery.

Of course this was the only way for Sam to get unwound, and of course it had to happen offscreen in flashes. Thank god for the ambiguity. There’s so much potential there, years and years, we were simply told: and at some point Sam’s life gets better, at some point his mental health improves and he feels safe enough to start a family, with someone, and at some point he has a child, and he dies peacefully, he dies loved and with people who love him, and dammit I’m getting weepy again.

Sam quit hunting. Not in a sudden jolt. We see him leaving the bunker on another job. But when he leaves the bunker, he leaves for good. He has so much knowledge, but he does not preserve the Men of Letters. He does not honor their legacy of extermination and experimentation. Maybe he gives someone else the keys, for the books. Or maybe he’s digitized it all, and maybe it’s done.

Maybe his wife is Eileen, or maybe it’s Amelia, or maybe it’s Piper or Cara or maybe it’s someone new. Maybe it’s not even a woman. And maybe she’s a hunter, but I hope she isn’t, and when Sam tells her, haltingly, in fits and starts, the bare outline of the truth, she looks at him and she believes him. And she understands the shape of the trauma he carries, even if Sam can’t quite speak the details, and maybe Sam goes to therapy. Maybe he doesn’t. Maybe he wakes in pain and fear for many years, but over time, it dulls.

Sam’s son is still a young man when Sam is on his deathbed, probably in at least his eighties. Think about the mountain Sam had to climb to reach that point. How many years and years of work did it take before Sam felt safe enough to want a child? How long for him to gently conquer his terror at the legacy his blood might carry: Lucifer and Azazel are dead, he knows this, but how long before he lets himself believe it enough to permit the risk? And then he raises his child, not in fear and loneliness, but with love and support and care. And he makes sure his son is protected, that he knows to salt his thresholds and ward against demons, but his son will not suffer the way he suffered.

Maybe he untangles his thoughts about Dean, maybe he learns that to feel angry with his brother is not to betray him or to dishonor his memory, maybe he comes to a more complex understanding of their relationship. Maybe he doesn’t. Maybe he simply enshrines Dean, and Dean’s memory becomes ever more golden and untarnished, and the Impala becomes truly an altar. The details of how Sam carries Dean with him—the watch, the car, the absurdly large photos, his son’s name—perhaps these are played straight, and perhaps Sam never finds a more nuanced love. In the meta sense I think we are certainly meant to think this. We are meant to see Dean deified here, canonized into a saint. We are meant to view Sam’s fifty more years of life as worship, as a dedication and an offering.

This is the long shadow of the finale. These are the things untouched by necessity and by design: this is Dean’s apology in 15.18, this is Sam not wanting an apology, and not wanting to hear Dean offer one. This difficult work was always and inevitably going to be elided. But there is so much time, decades and decades, offscreen, for Sam to come to a quieter peace.

I think he can do it.

I think Sam can do anything.

I’m crying again.

I really didn’t think I would cry much about the finale. I thought I would cry at the concept of the show ending, but not at what the ending was. I didn’t think any details would actually affect me. But then Sam got old. I am truly and genuinely hung up on the canonical image of Sam finding peace. Good god. He had GLASSES. Help.

My chief complaint (aside from that absolutely awful Carry On cover, why oh why, they should have just played the original again), if I felt at all like complaining at the moment, would be how happy this ending is. But I can’t begrudge Sam that. I can’t even get too mad at the scene that I was SO SURE I would despise: that of Sam and Dean content in a Heaven that is now apparently Great, Actually (even though a prison dimension with an open floor plan is still a prison dimension, but hey, I guess we humans can’t leave earth either). Supernatural clearly wanted Sam and Dean to not be facing down an abyssally bleak afterlife, and I think I’d be complaining about the lack of bleakness a whole lot more if it didn’t have the (perhaps unintended??) side effect of giving Sam even more freedom from Dean than SPN already deigned to give him. Sam isn’t in a shared cell with Dean. He can be with his friends and his wife and his son.

One of the fundamental questions of SPN is, would Dean ever let Sam go? And it’s a question that the bulk of s13-15 has rendered moot with Sam’s growing passivity, and one that 15.20 neatly dodged. And I’m glad it did, because I wouldn’t have liked whatever 15.20 had to say on the matter. This deflection feels true to the spirit of what the show has become.

It was impossible for Sam to find peace while Dean was still alive. And on its own that kind of says everything, doesn’t it? And Sam is still forever denied the peace he truly longed for. Sam didn’t want death to force Dean’s hand. Sam wanted Dean to want to let him go. But the only way Sam and Dean could heal is apart. The potential of their relationship on earth becoming untangled is forever precluded, explictly. And yet Sam’s freedom is validated, Sam is allowed what he sought in season 1 and season 8, Sam is something beyond a hunter and Dean’s brother, and the show let him be, the show let him grow.

Supernatural said Sam Rights, and the world shook.

#spn spoilers #sam and dean #15.20 #final thoughts #sam and romance #sam and peace #just leave me here to die #I did not realize how relieved I'd be #I do not believe how much tension has left me #at the realization that I liked this ending #and of COURSE there are so many people complaining about sam's peace #but guess what!!! #this isn't season 8! #this time the show agrees with ME! #SAM HAS riGHTs!

[walkerwords]

“Half A Man” Daryl Dixon x F!Reader

GIF CREDIT: http://gph.is/2yFFwpT

Request: from @thanossexual​ Hi can I request "Half A Man" by Dean Lewis songfic Shane x Reader (but if you don't feel like writing for Shane, I'd be totally satisfied with reading a Daryl x Reader)! Thank you goddess ❤️

Word Count: 3033

Warning: None

Song I Wrote To: “Half A Man” by Dean Lewis

Note: Sorry for the delay on this one! I hope I did this justice! Thank you for the request!

----------

I was wrong to say I loved her

I was wrong to think I'm right

But when I told her it was over

My darling I had lied

The thick woods of Virginia were like navigating a labyrinth.

With all the overgrowth, the once familiar woods were starting to look like a whole other world. You had gotten used to trekking through the deep woods, but when you were distracted, it was never easy. The Walkers were also not ideal, especially this far from the roads that lead to each community. 

When you had left your lonely home in Alexandria that morning, you hadn’t told anyone where you were going. However, the look on Rosita’s face as she watched you exit the gate from her spot on watch, told you she knew exactly where your head was at. 

I've been running from my demons

Afraid to look behind

It had been two years since Rick had sacrificed himself on the bridge. It had also been two years since Daryl Dixon left to be alone in the woods in hopes of finding his brother. You had been supportive at first and you still were, but every time you woke up alone in the bed the two of you once shared, your heart ached.

I've been running from myself

Afraid of what I'd find

You had met Daryl the day he and his brother had entered the camp at the quarry. You were best friends with Glenn and had followed him after the world had turned for the worse. Glenn was wary of the Dixons, but you had got on with them almost immediately, dodging Merle’s annoying comments with a laugh and connecting with the quieter brother whenever you got the chance.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to grow closer and by the time the group had found the Greene farm, you and Daryl were nearly inseparable. The romantic relationship didn’t start until after you had reunited after the horrors of Terminus and from then on, you made a promise to him that no matter where you were, you would always find each other. 

But how am I supposed to love you

When I don't love who I am?

And how can I give you all of me

When I'm only half a man?

Then, the war with the Saviors had happened and Daryl had been taken. It was obvious to everyone in your family that he was pulling away. You understood and you didn’t. You hadn’t been the one locked in the Sanctuary and tortured. You did, however, understand what it felt like to lose a brother. When Negan had brutally murdered Glenn in front of you as you tried to keep Maggie from collapsing, it felt as if someone had torn out your heart. 

Cause I'm a sinking ship that's burning

So let go of my hand

Oh, how can I give you all of me

When I'm only half a man?

It became clear to you after everything that had happened with the Saviors and then with Rick, that you and Daryl were never going to be the way you once were. However, that didn’t make you stop loving him. He lived in your mind and no matter what you were doing or who you were with, you were always thinking about the man you loved. Which is how you found yourself stumbling over roots and rocks to find him in his wooded getaway.

And now I'm stuck in this hotel room

By cold neon light

You made it to the river as Carol had suggested and followed it down. It didn’t take long to hear the groans of Walkers which you had anticipated. Following the sounds of death, you finally found them as they were tangled in some sort of wired contraption. It also didn’t take you long to recognize it as Daryl’s work.

He had been the one to teach you and the rest of the group about how to make the larger snares for the Walkers. They worked perfectly for when you were all on the road after Terminus and before Alexandria. You dispatched the rotting creatures quickly, your knife sliding into their skulls with ease. You pulled the corpses from their traps and made sure the snares were reset before continuing on. 

I've been waiting for an answer

But it don't come tonight

A cold breeze rustled the trees causing you to shiver slightly. It would be winter soon and you couldn’t stop thinking about him all alone out here in the snow. Hell, you didn’t even like the thought of Negan alone in the cold cell either. You had been guilty over the past couple of years giving him extra blankets and such without Michonne’s knowledge. You figured Gabriel knew it was you, but he had never said anything. It wasn’t until last year that Judith started helping you. Regardless of what he had done, you didn’t wish the man to freeze to death. 

After walking for a bit longer, you finally smelled the burning of wood, a familiar scent after all these years. You could see his makeshift camp from your spot in the trees. When he had left initially you knew he was running from his demons by living out here, but you had never expected for it to go on this long. 

Stepping out of the tree line, you were met with the tip of a crossbow bolt. You stared wide eyed at it as you tried to keep your breathing steady.

“(Y/N)?” Daryl gasped as he quickly lowered his bow. “Dammit, I could’ve killed ya!”

“Yeah, let’s not do that,” you said, blinking quickly. He tossed his weapon down and turned away from you. You drank in the sight of him. He was still Daryl, but his hair was longer, mangy, and he had a few new scars on his face and hands. Your hands ached to reach out and push his hair off his face to see those beautiful blue eyes of his, but you remained where you were. “Daryl,” you began, but he shook his head. 

“Go away,” he muttered.

“No,” you countered, stepping further into his camp. “I’ve given you space, Daryl, but I am done avoiding this.” 

“Leave! Go back to Alexandria,” he snapped, kicking out at a stack of firewood. He was still keeping his back turned to you. 

“Dammit Daryl!” you swore going over to him. “Would you just look at me please?” It took him a second, but eventually he turned and faced you. After another moment, he finally looked at you, his eyes finding yours. “Aren’t you even a bit happy to see me?” you asked. 

Daryl sighed and shook the hair from his face. “Of course, I am,” he said quietly, “but I can’t do this right now.” 

“Right,” you said. “I thought you were done pushin’ people away.”

“I thought I was too,” Daryl admitted. You could still see the hurt in his eyes, almost as if Rick was haunting him through and through.

“It’s been two years,” you whispered. “Please, Daryl, come home.” Daryl shook his head as he pushed away from you. Keeping your distance, you watched as he paced, his boots digging into the soft earth. 

“I can’t face ‘em,” he said. “I can’t face...her.” He looked at you with sadness and you knew who he meant. 

“Michonne doesn’t blame you,” you promised. 

“I blame myself! I shouldn’t have let him go lead that horde by himself! I ain’t meant to be here. It should’ve been me by his side,” Daryl said and you ignored the pang in your chest.

“What about Judith, huh? Or RJ?” you tried. 

“Don’t,” he warned, pointing his finger at you, but you didn’t back down. 

“They look up to. Judith, especially, and then you go and disappear on her after she’s lost her father? And what about Aaron? Or hell, have you even been to see Carol?” you hadn’t realized you were yelling until he had flinched at the volume. You quickly stopped and controlled yourself. “I know you go to Hilltop for supplies.” The last time you had visited and Enid had mentioned Daryl, you were hurt, but had tried to brush it off the best you could. 

“Ya don’t get it,” he said. 

“Then explain it to me,” you pleaded, “because I can’t keep waking up every mornin’ and wonderin’ where you are or if you’re even still alive.”

And every bottle I had stolen

Lay shattered on the floor

What's broken can't be whole, anymore

“I’m broken, (Y/N),” he said with a shrug.

“That’s bullshit,” you countered quickly. 

“Is it?” he asked, stepping closer to you. 

“Fractured,” you reminded him, “but never broken. Don’t you remember that?” He paused as the memory flew across his mind. It was something you had said to him after the day at the farm when Sophia had come out of Herschel’s barn. Daryl had said that Carol had broken, but you assured him that she wasn’t. She was fractured, but she was never broken. It was something that you both continued to say throughout your time together. Especially after Merle and Beth died. At one point, it had offered him comfort and you only hoped that it did now. 

“You remember my sister?” you continued. He looked away from you, but you pushed on. “She saved us when those Walkers overwhelmed the prison. She died protecting Beth and Carl and you helped me through it then and every loss afterwards. Why won’t you let me help you? Why won’t you let me in anymore?”

But how am I supposed to love you

When I don't love who I am

“I’m not the same, I ain’t right,” he said. 

“People change, Daryl. You don’t think I get that? I’m not the same person I was five years ago let alone when all of this shit started. It took me a while to adjust to the new normal and fight for the future, but you helped me to do it. Not my sister, you. You are my person.” Daryl was shaking his head again. 

And how can I give you all of me

When I'm only half a man

“I don’t wanna drag ya down,” he said. You slowly reached out to take his hand and when he didn’t pull away, you gripped it in yours. 

“Who says that’ll happen? I know my limits, Daryl,” you told him. “You can’t tell me you’re happy out here,” you said softly.

“Of course not!” he yelled and snatched his hand back. Your palm stung from the absence of his touch. “Dammit, (Y/N)! I hate it, but this my life. Ya think I don’t feel bad about what I did to ya? Leavin’ ya like that? Yer always in my head woman!” 

Cause I'm a sinking ship that's burning

So let go of my hand

Oh, how can I give you all of me

When I'm only half a man?

His declaration shot through you and all you wanted to do was take him in your arms, but there was still that solid wall between the two of you. One that you weren’t sure how to break through. “Daryl,” you tried, but he kept going. 

“Everywhere I go, I’m lookin’ for ya. No matter what I’m doin’. Ya wanna know why I go to Hilltop? I go because Jesus told me he looks out for ya! Ya say yer always wonderin’ if I’m still alive? Well so am I.” 

“Then come home,” you said again. 

“I can’t,” he said with pleading eyes, begging you to understand. “I ain’t...whole without him.” Daryl fell to his knees and you joined him on the ground as he hung his head.

You didn’t know what to say. You never wanted him to feel like this. Rick Grimes was the one person who never turned his back on Daryl. Probably the first person to ever treat him as an equal in his life. Even before the two of you were together, you knew that you would never have the bond the two brothers had. It was something too special to replicate. “I can’t fix myself,” he said. “How am I suppose to love ya?”

“There’s nothing to fix,” you told him, carefully. “It was never hard for us, Daryl. Don’t you remember when you went lookin’ for Beth? That was the first time you kissed me as we said goodbye. You told me that there was no guarantee we’d see each other again, but I knew you would come back. Then after Negan took you,” his eyes fell closed at the memory, “I knew you’d come back to me then too. That is how much faith I have in us. You can leave me for a decade and I will still love you.”

And no one can ever hurt me

Like I've hurt myself

“Don’t ya get it?” he asked, but his tone was much softer now. “How can I give ya all of me when I ain’t even myself anymore? It’s all too much pain,” he laughed bitterly. “And now? Nobody else can hurt me when I’ve screwed myself up.” 

“Not true,” you disagreed, “You’re hurtin’ yourself, D.” You reached up and take his face in your hands. He visibly relaxed at your touch and you nearly cried as he leaned into your palms. You leaned forward and rested your forehead against his as the tears flowed from your eyes. 

'Cause I'm made out of stone

And I'm beyond help

Don't give your heart to me

“Please,” he whispered, “please don’t love me.”

“I do,” you said through your tears.

“No.”

“I never stopped, Daryl Dixon.” He pulled back from you, taking your wrists and removing your hands from his face. 

“Everyone around me dies,” he said. “Merle, Beth, Glenn, Carl! Now Rick! Who’s next? Judith? Aaron? You?”

“None of it was your fault, Daryl,” you said.

“It is, I shoulda done more,” he said. His hair fell into his face and you reached out to smooth it away. 

“You’re not God, Daryl. You’re just one man. A man that I, and many others, love. Why can’t you see that?” Daryl shook his head, trying to lean away, but you placed your hands on his shoulders, holding him in place. 

But how am I supposed to love you

When I don't love who I am?

And how can I give you all of me

When I'm only half a man?

“I’m not enough for ya.” 

“That is not up for you to decide,” you said plainly. 

“(Y/N)...”

“No, just listen to me. I don’t blame you for anything. Beth was not your fault; Merle was not your fault; and Rick was definitely not your fault. What he did, he did to protect all of us. To make sure that Carl’s dream was fulfilled. Rick wanted us to be a new kind of world and so he did what he had to make sure we could still be that, that we could build something special. I don’t know what he would think if he saw how separated we all are now, but I do know that he wouldn’t want you to be out here alone chasing ghosts.

“On our first night in Alexandria, do you know what he said to me?” Daryl shook his head. “Rick told me that he would do anything to make sure you saw a happy ending. I am not about to let him down, are you?” A tear flowed down his cheek and you caught it with your thumb. “You’re not lost, Daryl, and I am not leaving here until you get that through that thick skull of yours.” 

Daryl broke down in front of you then, keeling over. You caught him as he leaned into you. His arms snaked around you and you held him. “I miss him so much,” he whispered and your heart broke at the words. Holding him tighter, you ran your hands down his back, trying to rub some warmth back into his soul. 

The fire crackled next to you as Daryl Dixon lay in your arms. When you had decided to go looking for him that morning, you had never imagined that this is the man you would find. “I miss him too,” you whispered. Daryl clutched at your back and you were reminded of the last time you had hugged him like this. It was when you were reunited at Hilltop after he had escaped the Sanctuary. You missed holding him like this and you never wanted to let go. 

'Cause I'm a sinking ship that's burning

So let go of my hand

“I haven’t found his body,” Daryl said. 

“I know and I am not saying we give up, but God, I need you,” you admitted. Daryl sat up at your words and hope entered his eyes. 

“It ain’t gonna be easy,” he said and then trailed his hand up your neck, holding it gently. 

“I know,” you said, your own hand covering his. 

“I can’t face Michonne,” he said again. 

“We’ll talk to her together,” you promised. Daryl let out a breath and then leaned in to kiss you. Your lips met his and you melted. It was the best hello you could have ever asked for. “I love you,” you said as you broke the kiss. 

“I love you too. Never stopped and never will.”

 “No matter what, Daryl, if you think you’re a sinkin’ ship, then honey, I ain’t ever letting go of your hand.” Daryl swiped at his own tears as he pulled you back into another kiss. You knew that the two of you had a long road ahead of you, but you were willing to take every step as long as he was by your side. Even if he thought he was only half the man he once was, to you, he was the only thing that made you feel whole. 

So let go of my hand

And how can I give you all of me

When I'm only half a man?

TAGS: @thanossexual​ @felicisimor​ @yes-sir-hotchner​

#walkerwords #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #reader insert #reader #twd #twd imagine #twd imagines #The Walking Dead #twd season 9

[hen-of-letters]

Series 15 gives all of the characters you could ever care about their worst possible endings, but presents these endings as somehow good or satisfying or acceptable.  Here's a list.

The short version: they're Chuck's endings, and Chuck is a bad writer.  

None of the characters can escape the fate set out for them or break the cycle of trauma begun by Chuck.  The show itself doesn't even realise how truly awful these endings are - it dresses up a tragedy in pie gags and pretty colours and calls it a happy ending.  And in order to inflict these worst possible endings on its characters, the narrative has to be twisted and contorted in the most absurd of ways.

So, onto the list:

Adam: Forgotten and left to languish in the pit, he's finally freed, only to suffer an anticlimactic offscreen death and be forgotten again.  Michael, his only companion for so long, is also killed off.  In the finale, blood family seems to be all that matters - and yet he isn't mentioned.

Alternate Kaia: She helps rescue Kaia from the Bad Place, but chooses to remain there to face certain destruction rather than return to earth with Kaia, Dean and Sam.  This world is so hostile to her that death is preferable.  Her horrible, pointless death stands as a powerful statement about the real harm caused by exclusion, but the text doesn't seem to acknowledge the full horror of this.  Her death isn't remarked upon; it seems to suggest that both Kaia and her double are returned to their rightful places.  It's just one example of the show creating awful endings without seeming to understand how awful they truly are.  (I rant a lot more about Alternate Kaia here.)

Amara: After being betrayed and locked away for millennia, we see Amara's initial impulse for revenge and destruction transform into an admiration for creation.  She becomes an advocate for humanity and the world.  And yet she ends up being betrayed (by both the Winchesters and Chuck) and locked away again.  She's absorbed by Chuck in a way that doesn't fit within the logic of the show.  Chuck and Amara are equals - it doesn't make any sense that Chuck could overpower her.  Wouldn't they become a blend of the two of them?  And, since their separation caused the Big Bang, wouldn't their unity end the world?  Anyway, having the cosmic feminine be voiceless and invisible is the worst way for Amara's story to end.  Having Jack speak for her, saying that they are 'in harmony' tries to make this an acceptable fate for her, but only makes it worse.

Benny:  Another offscreen death, and this one feels particularly spiteful.  It really seems like he was killed just to be a conversation-starter for Cas and Dean.  However, if his fate can be sealed by a line of dialogue, then it only proves that confirmation of the fates of Eileen, AU Charlie and the other hunters could have been given in the same way.  Just one line could have done it - "I just spoke to Eileen, everyone's back."  Instead, at the end of 15.19 we're in the absurd position of having Sam and Dean toast the people they've lost without them even bothering to check who that may or not be.

Billie: The bizarre thing about Billie being revealed as a villain at the end of Season 15 was that she was supposed to be acting in self-interest - that she wanted to be the new God.  It made no sense.  What would make sense to me, though, would be if Chuck was controlling her (as Lucifer bound Death in Season 5).  Season 15 has strong echoes of Season 4 - and Billie took on both the role of Ruby (feeding Jack hearts rather than demon blood, but nevertheless making him into a weapon, with the price being the loss of his sense of self and ultimately his life) and Heaven (persuading Dean that it had to be this way, and telling him to go along with the plan).  We only have the Shadow's word for Billie's motivation, and we know she wasn't responsible for the deaths of the AU hunters, so in the end her status is ambiguous - she really seems to be a victim of Chuck's bad writing.  She's erased from the narrative along with Castiel, when really she should have been freed from Chuck's control and fighting on the side of nature and free will alongside the Winchesters.  Supernatural also concludes with nobody in the role of Death, which is a crazy loose thread left dangling.

Castiel: His confession was a thing of beauty, perfectly summing up the truth of both his and Dean's characters.  Both of them are made of and motivated by love.  And yet after speaking his truth, he is silenced.  He never gets to hear that he is loved in return (when the previous twelve seasons have made it abundantly clear to the audience that Dean loves Cas just as much as Cas loves Dean).  His capacity for love made him the only thing that Chuck could not control; as an agent of free will, he should have had a central role in Chuck's defeat.  

In 15x13, when Cas is in the Empty to see Ruby, the Shadow says: "funny thing about [Death's] plan, though... she didn't say anything about needing you. Baby, you can't just traipse in and out of here. It upsets the order of things."  To me, this sounded so much like 4x22's "you're not in this story" that I saw it as a pretty clear indication that Cas would play an important part in Chuck's defeat.  Because Team Free Will wouldn't follow the plan, would they?  They would find another way, wouldn't they?  Wouldn't they?

However, after the confession, he's never seen on screen again.  He's barely mentioned.  Eventually we're told he "helped" Jack, so he ends up where he started: as a servant of heaven.  He deserved to complete his fall, to become human, to live as well as speak his truth.  Making him a silent, unseen instrument of heaven undoes his entire arc.  Erasing him from the narrative requires the extraordinary warping of that narrative: nothing about his death suggests that it should be accepted as a permanent 'sacrifice', when we know that there is a spell that can return angels from the Empty (and, thanks to the handprint, we have his blood for it) and that Lucifer was brought back by Chuck in 15x19.  And the idea that Sam, Jack and Dean wouldn't try everything in their power to bring him back is utterly ludicrous.

Cas' confession scene to so closely mirrors 4x01's barn scene that the narrative is crying out for the parallel to be completed by Dean rescuing Cas from the Empty just as Cas rescued Dean from hell.  However, we're never given that narrative closure - just like we are never given the reunions demanded by the scenes of Sam losing Eileen and Charlie losing Stevie.

Chuck:  Okay, so he might not make your list of characters you could ever care about, but my point about his ending is that while it's fitting, for it to really work we also needed Cas to become human, too.  For Chuck, being human is a punishment, but for Cas it would be a reward.  We really needed this balance, otherwise all we have is humanity as the worst thing that could happen to you, which is not exactly a great parting message for the show.  (Also, how precisely is it possible to make him human?)  Not only is being human the worst fate possible, but, specifically, so is growing old and being forgotten.  Again, this is a punishment for Chuck, but it would have been a reward for Dean: growing old when the story (and his own self-loathing) constantly told him that he would die young; and being forgotten, not in a negative sense, but in terms of not being a character in a story any more: remembered fondly by his friends but no longer a legend, just a man living an insignificant little life exactly the way he chooses.  

Dean: Where do I even start.  Let's be clear: ending the story with his death (by any means and in any scenario) was always going to be the absolute worst possible ending for him and for the show.

In 15x19 we have the glorious moment when Chuck calls him the ultimate killer, and Dean (heeding Cas' words from 15x18) says "that's not who I am".  Now, I mean no disrespect to Dean here (because he is, canonically, a genius) but I don't think that he was in any way necessary to the Michael double-cross plot that eventually saw the defeat of Chuck.  Honestly, if he had died in 15x18, then 15x19 could still have played out in exactly the same way.  It's as if he wasn't saved so that he could save the world - he was saved so that he could have this moment of self-realisation.  He was saved so that he could stand up to Chuck (God, and the author, and parallelled with John) and tell him that he's not the person that he tried to force him to be.  

And yet by the next episode, this revelation is entirely forgotten.  He doesn't get to continue his self-actualisation by speaking his truth to Cas.  Instead, 15x20 presents Dean as almost a caricature of himself.  Dean loves pie.  Dean loves his brother.  Dean loves his car.  All of his complexity (present right from Season 1) is stripped away.

Finally free to write his own story, he ends up giving Chuck the ending he always wanted: one dead Winchester - killed, you could argue, by his brother (Sam fails to call for help and instead tells Dean to "go".)  Told by Cas that he's not "Daddy's blunt instrument" and accepting that he's not "the ultimate killer", Dean goes right back to killing (even threatening torture) and following his father's words (in the form of the journal).  

For Dean to die exactly as the story has always told him, and as he's always told himself in his worst moments of self loathing, is brutal and tragic.  What makes it truly appalling is the way in which both Dean and Sam accept his death and say it's "okay".  For Dean to say "always keep fighting" at the very moment when he gives up and when Sam gives up on him is bitterly ironic.  (Interestingly, when Cas said "you have to keep fighting" in his 12x12 death speech, exhorting Sam and Dean to save themselves and leave him behind, Sam replied with "we are fighting.  We're fighting for you, Cas" and Dean followed with "and like you said, you're family.  And we don't leave family behind".)   

Dean has always been the symbol of humanity in Supernatural: he stood for earth against the forces of heaven and hell.  He'd rather live with pain and guilt than exist as a "Stepford bitch in paradise", and yet that's exactly what he becomes, driving mindlessly through Jack's new heaven where everyone is "happy".  Dean previously dismissed heaven's happiness as "Memorex", and after Mary's death he was the only one not consoled by the confirmation that she was in heaven and happy.  Having Dean being content in heaven is utterly out of character.  He's always fought for free will, and in heaven - where there's no agency, where he's cut off from the world - this is the one thing that he does not have.

Eileen: An interesting, complex, kickass character, Eileen deserved so much better than being erased from the storyline.  A Men of Letters legacy, I imagine her working with Sam to share the knowledge contained within the bunker whilst also dismantling the patriarchy, elitism and colonialism of its past.  Her disappearance from the narrative makes absolutely no sense - 15x09, 15x17 and 15x18 confirm just how significant she is to Sam, and yet we never see them reunited or see Sam mourning her death.  The audience's love for Eileen is totally disregarded, too - she's ripped away from us with no further explanation.

Emma: Okay, so she wasn't actually in season 15, but that's sort of my point.  I have a lot to say about Emma, but here I'll just say that her significance has grown massively since Season 7.  The narrative has shifted from Team Free Will being sons to being fathers.  Even if she wasn't brought back, just a mention of her would have been significant.  (I can't stop thinking about the massive potential of a conversation about Emma between Dean and Jack.)  She didn't deserve to be forgotten.  

Season 15 was Supernatural's last opportunity to bring back characters from the past - such as Meg, original Charlie, Crowley, and Bela Talbot - and give them better endings.  Sadly this opportunity was wasted.

Garth: He actually seems to get his happy ending, on several levels.  He finds a family; he finds happiness; he's acknowledged as a hero by the Winchesters, who had previously mocked him.  Dean's words to him about embracing happiness are powerful.  Garth lives as his full, authentic self - monstrosity now included.  It's that monstrosity that's the issue here, though - as werewolves, Garth, Bess and little Sam and Castiel are doomed to go to purgatory when they die.  Mia Vallens said to Jack that "it doesn't matter what you are - it matters what you do", but in this case the opposite is true.  It's hideously unfair, but again the show never acknowledges this.  It would have been simple to change in a line or two - just a quick mention about how purgatory has been fixed, so that only truly monstrous beasts like the leviathan are kept trapped there - but the injustice remains.

Jack:  From his birth, his destiny was either to be the monstrous destroyer or the divine saviour of the world, which is precisely why he should have side-stepped it and found another way.  He deserved to live without the weight of the world on his shoulders.  Instead, he was forced to take on the power of God - and since when has someone suddenly taking on a huge amount of power ever ended well for Team Free Will?  Then, he repeats the exact same pattern set up by Chuck.  First, he abandons his creation by walking away and disappearing off to, in the words of Bobby, "wherever he went".  Like Chuck, he ignores earthly suffering: if he's now omniscient and omnipotent, is he in fact complicit in Dean's death?  Secondly, he's controlling: he remodels Heaven as he sees fit, making it a place where everyone's together and everyone's happy, with its inhabitants given absolutely no choice in the matter.  There's also no reason why Jack had to vanish from the story - Chuck was capable of spending time on Earth.

The mechanics of the bomb plot also irks me no end.  We're told by Death that the bomb will kill Jack.  However, their plan fails, and Jack survives the blast.  In 15x19, Dean tells Chuck that all the work done to turn Jack into a "cosmic bomb" has turned him instead into a "power vacuum."  It makes it seem like a side-effect, and also that "sucking up bits of power" has been charging him up to the point where he's "unstoppable".  He's able to both absorb and appropriate Chuck's power.  However, in 15x17 Adam and Serafina explain that the bomb will create a "metaphysical supernova" that will make Jack into "a living black hole for divine energy" - which suggests that, actually, the bomb worked as intended.  

But if the plan worked, why is Jack still alive?  Billie made it clear that Jack wouldn't survive.  And "nothing can escape" a black hole - so how is Jack able to use Chuck's powers to bring back Earth's population? Besides which, didn't 15x17 reveal that Chuck himself had "orchestrated" the entire thing?  Which makes the theory that Chuck possessed Jack really the only outcome that makes sense.  (Particularly as Serafina talks about Jack making his "vessel" strong.  Jack is a nephil, not an angel - he has a body, not a vessel.  Also, the bomb is made by fusing his soul with his grace - so, the two things that make up Jack, his humanity and his divinity, are annihilated.)  Deliberately making Chuck win, however (with no tease at the end that this might be the case), makes no sense either.  My head hurts.

Kevin: As if he hadn't been treated badly enough by the story already, we find that Kevin hasn't been in Heaven since we last saw him, but rather hell.  He ends up as an untethered ghost, presumably just wandering about for all eternity.  His fate comes courtesy of a bizarre new rule that souls from hell can't go to heaven - when previously both Bobby and John have done exactly that.  Again, just one line telling us that he's now in heaven could have changed his ending.

Michael: Bringing back Adam and Michael was a brilliant move, and this version of Michael was utterly compelling - struggling with his faith in his father after being abandoned, torn between his loyalty to Heaven and his relationship with Adam.  I thought that his handing over of the spell was very similar to Cas' "just so you understand … why I can't help" moment, and it seemed the precursor to Michael becoming an advocate for humanity, even a member of Team Free Will.  However, instead Michael was doomed to play out his father's narrative: killing his brother and repeating the cycle of sibling conflict and trauma that Chuck began when he betrayed Amara.  (And we'll credit Chuck's bad writing with the fact that the battle between Michael and Lucifer that was once predicted to wipe out millions and scorch the globe can now happen in the bunker without so much as a chair being knocked over - and without wires as well.)

Rowena: She seems to be relishing her reign as Queen of Hell, but the way she's so casually condemned is jarring.  Surely her previous good deeds and her final act of self sacrifice would be enough to tip the scales in a heavenly direction?  (It worked for Lily Sunder - another woman who vowed never to be powerless again.)  They could easily have said it was Chuck's fault that she had to remain in hell - but instead it just seems like a foregone conclusion.  She deserved better.

Sam: If we're supposed to believe that having a "normal" life is Sam's idea of writing his own story, why doesn't he do it as soon as Chuck is defeated?   Instead, his suburban "apple pie" life only happens after Dean dies, which makes it seem more of a grief arc than a happy ending.  (Just as he escaped into a self-professed "fantasy" life with Amelia after Dean's death, or when he succumbed to the comfort of a fake married life in Charming Acres after the trauma of losing all the AU hunters).  

The idea that he'd keep hunting for Dean doesn't ring true - Dean had been the one openly craving retirement and domesticity for several seasons.  After all, the idea of Dean as a hunter and Sam as the brother who wants to be normal is Chuck's story.  Dean wasn't the "ultimate killer" that Chuck wanted him to be, and Sam too had been forging his own identity as a leader, a Man of Letters, and a powerful witch.  He'd also found love - and with Eileen, he could be his full, authentic self.  The idea that he would leave her is absurd, as is the idea that he would abandon his entire extended found family, who seem to have no part in his new life.  When Dean returned from purgatory, he was furious that Sam had failed to help Kevin.  Would Sam really do the exact same thing again - walk away from Jody and the girls when they are mourning both Cas and Dean and need his support?  Would he just abandon Rowena's entire witchy collection and leave the huge store of knowledge in the Bunker locked up in the dark?

The Shadow: again, dubious on a list of characters you care about, but hey - all they ever really wanted was to go back to sleep, and can't we all relate to that?  Anyway, they made the list for being one of the most frustrating open endings of the show.  What did it mean for the Empty to be "loud"?  Who is the Shadow, anyway?  Just how did this cosmic entity fit in with the mythology of Chuck and Amara?  It's maddening that the Shadow and the Empty were made central to several seasons only to be suddenly dropped.

The Wayward Sisters: my beloveds. Such a brilliant cast of characters and such wasted potential.  They're an important part of the Winchesters' family and Team Free Will, but, in the end, they're forgotten.  Claire may have gotten her happy ending with the return of Kaia, but this happens off screen.  We never see her reaction to the deaths of Castiel or Dean.

The final few episodes seem to be about stripping away all of the characters except Sam and Dean, so they are completely alone by 15x20. Phrases such as "just us" and "just you and me" and "it's always been you and me" seem to suggest that this is a good thing, but previously the idea of them being isolated and alone has seemed like the worst case scenario (for example in Season 8, when Sam and Dean are forced to give up Amelia and Benny, respectively, or in Chuck's vision of a future in which the brothers lose Eileen and Cas along with Jody and the girls, give up hope, and end up as vampires, killed by their remaining friends). 

Anyway, the whole idea of just Sam and Dean going wherever the road takes them is Chuck's story.  It's on the cover of his books.  By making Chuck the villain, Season 15 itself makes it impossible for a return to this idea to be a satisfying conclusion to the story.

In fact, Supernatural was never about just Sam and Dean.  It was always about family.  Season 1 was about Sam, Dean and John.  Bobby introduced the phrase "family don't end with blood" in Season 3 and Dean coined the phrase "Team Free Will" in Season 4.  It's an ethos that has spread into the fandom, too.  Didn't the SPN Family deserve a finale that celebrated that idea, of banding together, of caring about the whole world, of love being the ultimate expression of free will?

You can't help but pick up on a theme: characters that were forgotten are forgotten again.  Characters who were locked away are locked away again.  The same narratives and the same traumas play out again and again.  No-one escapes their miserable, predestined fate.  It's Chuck's ending.  And it's Chuck's spiteful ending.

It's the ending that kills off its beloved characters, and also destroys their whole world.  The bunker is left in darkness.  Time has moved forward by so much in order to accommodate Sam's natural death that we can't even imagine the ongoing stories of other characters like Garth or the Sioux Falls family (ironic, given the episode's title).

It's the kind of ending you get when a show is cancelled and the writer decides to kill off their characters and wreck their world so that there's no possibility of another network or another writer taking over their story.  (And yet outside of the show, there's no evidence to suggest this - you would think that the ending had been designed to make a reboot impossible, but it has already been talked about.)

If we were not going to get a sense of the world continuing, then we could have been given a more radical and satisfying ending.  We could have had Death collect on their promise to one day reap God.  We could have had a world freed from the supernatural entirely: heaven, hell and purgatory obliterated, and Team Free Will finding peace in life on earth.

Because Chuck has been the author and the narrator the entire time, it makes no sense for the story to continue past the point of his defeat.  (It makes even less sense for that story to revert back to Chuck's ideal narrative.)  So, really we should have been given a more open ending: Team Free Will triumphant over Chuck and their future left open, the author dead and the characters' stories entrusted to the audience.

Instead, in the end, it's a bizarre mix of needlessly closed-down endings (killing off Cas, Sam and Dean, and vanishing Jack) and frustrating open ones (the loud Empty, there being no Death, Kevin wandering, the ambiguous fate of Eileen, Adam, Donna and the AU hunters).  

And the final two episodes are also objectively bad.  The double-cross plot in 15x19 is lame when the resolution of the Chuck storyline should have been profound. (It invites comparisons with the Season 11 finale, which was excellent.) 15x20 feels weirdly empty and flat.  Dean's death is unrealistic; it echoes Sam's death in Season 2 and Dean's in Season 9 (which, if you think about it, would only be possible if Chuck was still writing it), but lacks the emotional punch of either.  Dean's "I'm proud of us," in his Season 9 death scene is so much more powerful than his "I'm proud of you" in the finale.  And let's not even mention that wig.

In conclusion: every single character deserved better.  The actors deserved better.  The audience deserved better.  Because the ending we were given was not the ending that the season, or the entire series, had been building towards.

The ending tries to destroy every good thing that Supernatural has ever given us - vibrant characters, the fight for free will, the value of found family, the power of love - but it fails. Ultimately the characters and themes are too powerful to be contained by that terrible, flimsy ending. So now I've gotten all of that off my chest, I'm going right back to finale denialism.

#so I've been compiling this list for quite a while and now seems as good a time as any to get it off my chest #it's also the checklist for the fix-it I'm writing so really I should go and work on that #supernatural #spn #spn 15x20 #spn 15.20 #tw dean's death

[sidnihoudini]

fic: let’s not try to figure out everything at once

post-15x20 read on ao3 instead

“Come on, Sammy,” Dean says with a smile. “Let me buy you dinner.”

*

Just like on earth, Dean’s idea of a nice date is flicking a fake credit card at Sam, rattling off his food order, and waiting in the car.

Sam bounces back down the little roadside diner steps with a plastic bag stretched heavy with food.

“Hey,” he says through the open passenger window, startling Dean’s hand away from the tape deck. “Remember Three Rocks?”

He opens the door as Dean screws up his face and asks, “What, like Oregon?”

“Yeah.” Sam gets his legs in and Dean starts the engine. “Spring Equinox. You got hexed, and we didn’t figure it out until you started to hoard like… cornflower and cinnamon sticks and shit?”

That’s the nicest, shortest way to tell the story. Dean snorts.

“Of course I remember that,” he says. “Friggin’ fertility witches, man.”

Sam laughs again, because Dean’s foibles with the dark arts always tickle him.

“Remember how it made you go crazy?” he presses. For three long days, Dean oscillated between hoarding, sweating, and acting like a prickly pear around everyone who wasn’t Sam. That’s why it took them so long to notice -- it wasn’t until late on day three that Dean started with the stockpiling. “Well, the waiter you wanted to knock out is the one who just served me your pie.”

Dean scoffs and starts eyeing the bag. “Everyone has bad days, man. What do you want me to do about it now?”

“Well next time, you can go in, for starters.” Sam punctuates his request by throwing the credit card back at Dean. “And they didn’t have any cherry left.”

As Dean catches the card with a hand slap to the chest, he also leans over to curiously peer into the bag. “What’d you get me?”

“Apple.” Sam reaches back for his seatbelt, even though there probably aren’t any car accidents or speed traps in Heaven. He catches the sudden weird look on Dean’s face and raises an eyebrow. “What?”

Dean’s eyes go all squinty into the distance as he tries to figure something out.

“Why is the place where I threatened to knock some guy out up here in Heaven?” he wonders, gaze suddenly snapping over to Sam. They make direct eye contact, and Sam feels his face get hot when Dean starts smirking. “Something you want to tell me, man?”

Sam snorts, overcompensates, realizes it, and then tries to play it off with a casual, “Like what?”

“Like,” Dean dramatically announces, raising both eyebrows. “Maybe you got all tingly when I defended your honor, and now you want to relieve that memory again and again and again?”

Even though Sam knows he’s all twitchy, he tightens his expression and plows through.

“Keep dreaming, man.” He shakes his head and snorts again, but when he glances over, Dean is still staring at him with that look on his face. Sam clears his throat and quickly changes the subject. “Can we just find somewhere to park for the night?”

Dean’s expression softens from I’m calling you out to I’m reaping the benefits.

“You got it, Sammy,” he grins, officially letting Sam off the hook.

They pull out of the tiny parking lot, and Dean stretches his arm out along the back of the seat, fingers curling to rest against Sam’s shoulder.

Sam cranks his window down. It’s a perfectly balmy midsummer night, even though they haven’t been up here for a whole day yet, and they both died in winter.

As they get back on the highway, Dean knocks his fingers into the back of Sam’s ear.

Sam bites back a smile.

*

The highway runs up the coast, and then out onto a peninsula that hangs over the water.

Sam knows they aren’t earthbound anymore, but the blue ocean and the tall trees are all unmistakably redwood country. They bomb down the peninsula with Dean’s favorite mixtape playing. There’s nothing out here but dusky blue skies and deep blue water.

“It’s kinda like driving right into space,” Sam comments. “But like, uncanny valley.”

Dean parks the car near the end of the road and turns off the ignition. “I wonder who controls the scenery, me or you.”

“Maybe both of us?” Sam raises his eyebrows. “We’ve been in all the same places.”

With a shrug, Dean digs into their takeout bag, and pulls out his gigantic burger in a double-wide styrofoam container that buckles when he tries to hold it one handed.

“I don’t know, man,” he says, briefly glancing over at Sam. Sam stares back, and then drops his gaze to watch as Dean flips his container open and lifts the top bun off his burger to remove the pickle. “You got me extra sauce,” he gasps, picking up the drippy, shitty burger with both hands. “Have I told you I love you lately?”

Smiling, Sam shakes his head slowly, and unwraps his ever reasonable sandwich.

“About thirty years ago.” Sam takes Dean’s pickle slice and adds, “Once.”

The smile on Dean’s face is big and bright. A thousand megawatts lit up, brighter than anything else even in Heaven.

“Well, I love ya, Sammy,” he says, fondly.

*

The stars come out, and all of the little adobe houses sprinkled up the coastline turn their lights on.

“We could find a motel,” Dean suggests, gaze fixed out on the water.

Sam turns away from Dean and looks at all the houses scattered away from them.

“Nah.” Sam wrinkles up his nose. Dean wrinkles his back. “I wanna sleep here.”

On earth, every new day had possibility -- kismet, and advent, and Dean. The comfort in knowing they were only separated by death is what kept Sam alive some days; he knew this, that he would be here again, whether it happened under the stars or in hellfire.

When Sam got into bed on the mattress Dean never laid on, in the big house Dean never lived in, he would close his eyes and sink away. Just so he could see stars, like these stars, and be here again.

Small, lonely celebrations. They can find a motel to sleep in tomorrow night.

The houses up the coastline glow for a little while longer. Sam lays on the hood and stares up at the sky.

*

“Catch,” Dean says, tossing Sam’s toothbrush into the air.

They keep looking at each other, grinning and laughing as they stand on the bluff and spit toothpaste off the rocks.

“Mine definitely went further than yours, Dean.” Sam is both eternally Player 2 and the one who makes the call. He points out into the dark black water like he can pinpoint exactly where his last one hit and gives Dean a smug look. “Beat that.”

Dean imitates him in a wobbly high-pitched voice, “Mine went further than yours,” and then loses interest in going for distance and turns to spit at Sam instead. Sam can tell he’s going to do it by the look on his face, so he laughs and jumps away right as Dean loads up and aims for his feet.

As he bounces by, he smacks Dean in the chest.

“Don’t swallow,” Sam unhelpfully cackles when Dean starts choking on his toothpaste.

Dean bends over, gagging and spitting, and even with tears in his eyes he still shoots a dirty look in Sam’s direction and smirks, “Why I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say that before, Sammy.”

“Shut up.” Sam laughs some more and goes back to angling his toothbrush over his back molars. “You know, I didn’t miss your sex jokes.”

He actually missed everything, but that’s nothing Dean has to know about.

Even so -- Dean looks scandalized for the first time since Sam has been topside. “I’m the funniest person you know.”

“You’re the only person I know,” Sam counters.

He knows he screwed up last time they were in Heaven. There wasn’t a day that went by where he didn’t think about Dean’s hurt expression lit up in those streetlights.

Dean looks like he wants to say something, too. They stare at each other as Dean clearly works out whether he’s going to cop to whatever it is, or keep it to himself for a while.

“About that,” he finally starts, hedging. Sam raises his eyebrows. “We’re not alone up here anymore.”

Sam gives him a look. “That’s cryptic, Carol Anne.”

“I was here for about a minute before Bobby found me, man,” Dean explains. Sam’s eyebrows knot; that actually is a surprise. “Well, I guess I found him.” Dean pauses to reconsider, clearly still trying to figure out his train of thought. “He gave me a beer.”

Still not totally following, Sam asks, “What, like a memory?”

“No, not a memory.” Dean shakes his head. “Bobby told me Heaven is different now. Jack busted all the walls down.”

Both of Sam’s eyebrows jerk up. “Seriously?”

“That’s what he said.” Dean shrugs. “Mom and dad, Rufus, Ellen.” He dramatically twirls his toothbrush around in a circular motion. “Everyone. They’re all around here somewhere.”

So even with the walls down, he and Dean are still stepping in the same footprint.

“Wow.” Sam smiles a little. “So it’s like, fairytale Heaven now.”

Dean shrugs and digs around in his toiletry bag. “Guess so.”

“So… what.” It’s not like Dean was ever a social butterfly, but… Sam watches as he packs his toothbrush away, and looks at him curiously. “You didn’t go and see mom? And dad?”

They stare at each other for a minute, and Dean gets shifty.

“I just drove around until you got here,” he finally shrugs, playing it cool.

Which really means he’s circling the drain and acting all bugged out, because that’s how Dean always gets when he has to admit he has feelings for Sam in a way that doesn’t include suicide or the death of whoever else gets stuck in their crosshair.

And Sam doesn’t help, because he starts to crack up in a truly uncontrollable way.

“Moment ruined,” Dean scoffs, throwing one hand up.

He turns back around to face the car, and Sam scrambles after him, still laughing.

“I’m sorry,” he calls, voice coming out all lopsided when he tries to swallow another laugh. “I’m sorry, Dean. Hey.” He reaches out and snags Dean by the back of the jacket; Dean spins around and glares at him. “Hey,” Sam says again, serious this time. He clears his throat and raises his eyebrows earnestly. “I would have done the same thing.”

Dean is still glaring up at him but he does let Sam get in a hug.

“You wouldn’t have had the wheels to do so,” he says petulantly.

Sam smiles and tilts his nose into Dean’s ear. “Guess I would have been waiting for you at the side of the road, then.”

“Yeah, sounds like something you would do,” Dean crabs back.

But under Sam’s jacket, he worms his fingers around until he finds Sam’s waist.

“I was scared I would wake up in the dark.” Sam finally admits it, quietly, into the soft collar of Dean’s flannel shirt. “I memorized a druidic memory spell. Just in case.”

Dean snorts, but his grip on Sam tightens, as well. He whispers, “I would have found ya.”

“Yeah.” Neither of them moves an inch. “I know that.”

*

sam and dean’s fuckin around in heaven playlist: * red bull & hennessey - jenny lewis * between the bars - elliott smith * love me anyway - chappell roan * fake empire - the national * pacific coast highway - hole

#foreverwincest #wincest #supernatural #fic #spn #777