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#spn s12e11
arcanespillo · 6 months
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Regarding Dean, SPN S12E11
The Rising Son, SPN S13E02
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hellerradio · 1 year
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Two great episodes for the price of one, folks! With angels falling in love with humans, Jensen’s masterclass in staring deeply into our souls, perfect song choices, and headcanons galore, these episodes pack a real punch. So hitch a ride on Larry, cause it’s time to cry, partner! Yeehaw! 🪞
➡️ Listen here!
Episodes discussed:
12x10 - Lily Sunder Has Some Regrets
12x11 - Regarding Dean
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lower-the-volume · 6 months
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12.11 Regarding Dean
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deansamnatural · 1 year
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hoziernaturalevents · 2 months
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Hoziernatural Recs: Gen Fics/Character Studies
Sign-ups for the 2024 round of the Hoziernatural Multi-Ship Bang are open, and people will soon be working to create a whole new batch of Hoziernatural content! However, for those of you who would like something to read between now and posting, we have some recs to fill that need 💚
Everything listed below is gen, but if you're a person of varied taste, then check out our Wincest, Destiel, and Rare Pair rec lists!
After The Raven Has Had Its Say by @spnyuri
Beta: @munchablemusic
Hozier Song: In a Week
Rating: Teen & Up
Word Count: 5,008
Pairing/s: Castiel & Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester
Warnings: Major character death, suicidal thoughts
Additional Tags: Canon Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Post-Finale, Unrequited Love, Panic Attacks, Memories
Summary: Sam is coping badly after Dean's death. Jack, unable to interfere directly, sends Castiel down to help him. They grieve Dean together.
Don't Let Me In by @gen-spn with art by @outofnowhere82
Beta: @hermit-writes
Hozier Song: It Will Come Back
Rating: Teen & Up
Word Count: 6,691
Pairing/s: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Warnings: Canon-typical violence, canonical character death, alcoholism, unhealthy coping mechanisms, unhealthy relationships
Additional Tags: Dean Winchester Character Study, Pre-canon, canon era, Stanford era, s15e20 Carry On
Summary:
Dean is always on the wrong side of the door, but he’s used to it by now. Not fitting the places life shoves him in.
The problem is when Sam’s on the other side.
(A character study inspired by Hozier's It Will Come Back.)
he feels no control of his body by @withthekeyisking-writer with art by @amberdreams1960
Beta: miajackswild
Hozier Song: Foreigner's God
Rating: Teen & Up
Word Count: 8,117
Pairing/s: Gen
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Additional Tags: Sam Winchester's Bodily Autonomy Issues, Religious Sam Winchester, Character Study, Grief/Mourning, Self-Worth Issues, Hurt/Comfort, Non-Linear Narrative
Summary: Sam Winchester has spent his entire life believing in things and people who never believed in him in turn.
Tame Your Demons by @withthekeyisking-writer
Hozier Song: Arsonist's Lullaby
Rating: Teen & Up
Word Count: 2,027
Pairing/s: Lucifer & Sam Winchester
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Past Torture
Additional Tags: Episode AU: 11x09 O Brother Where Art Thou, Sam Winchester Says Yes to Lucifer, Lucifer Possessing Sam Winchester, Manipulative Lucifer, Sam Winchester Has Issues, Hurt Sam Winchester, TFW Your Abuser is Possessing You, Sam Has Cage Trauma, Open Ending
Summary: The deal on the table: say yes to Lucifer and be his ride out of the Cage, and in exchange get his help defeating the Darkness.
It's the absolute last thing Sam wants in the world. But he caused all of this, and they need to defeat Amara. They...need Lucifer.
when we begin again by @entropic-saudade with art by @outofnowhere82
Beta: @outofnowhere82
Hozier Song: All Things End
Rating: Teen & Up
Word Count: 5,766
Pairing/s: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Warnings: Mentions of canon deaths/trauma
Additional Tags: Episode: s12e11 Regarding Dean, Temporary Amnesia, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hugs, Accidental Cuddling, Broments
Summary: The spell Rowena uses in Regarding Dean doesn’t work right away.
Dean learns who he is again, with Sam by his side.
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lampgate · 5 months
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i'm high af and my netflix glitched while i was watching spn and it went from s6e10 caged heat to s12e11 regarding dean and i was so caught up in how cute dean was that it took me until halfway through the episode before i was like "wait why is rowena here already"
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rubyrubyrubytuesday · 7 months
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finally finished spn season 12 and congrats to season 7 for no longer being alone as the worst season!!!!!!
Straight up can't believe they decided to take what was essentially The Hunters' Code and gave it to BMOL as their code. For what? So that Sam and Dean and other hunters could be morally sound guys I guess? Someone needed to take Dabb and force him at gunpoint to watch Heart.
Also love Samantha Smith, but she could not sell Badass Hunter Mary at all. It's clear that she was hired in the pilot because she radiates such absolute primal Mom Energy that I could never not see that. I'm glad we got what was essentially the 'actually Mary would have been worse than John' arc though. She quit being a hunter when she was like 20 and died when she was 29 I don't know why they wanted her to be a badass hunter so bad. Kinda wish they gave her the Buffy Season 6 "god I wish I was back in heaven right now" storyline instead.
I don't mind Bootleg Buffy Watchers I mean the BMOL but it was such mid execution. Wish Toni had lived. Lucifer stuff was fun, even the Rock Star Lucifer and President Lucifer (LOTUS was weird in a lore sense but still fun imo). A female character existing just to give birth and die is probably one of my top ten most hated tropes so it's a shame that I liked Kelly with both Dagon and Cas, even though she was a little bland. Great actress. Another one of my most hated tropes is 'rapidly aging child/born as an adult' which does not bode well for Jack (although from the few s13 eps I watched off and on I remember liking him).
Not sure if I'm sincere about it being worse than Season 7. I guess I like S07E01 Meet the New Boss, S07E15 Repo Man and S07E21 Reading is Fundamental more than every season 12 episode so I guess I am. No S12 episode was as bad as S07E13 The Slice Girls, my beloathed though.
Best: S12E12 Stuck in the Middle (With You), S12E11 Regarding Dean Worst: S12E09 First Blood
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s12e11
ugh witches, argh Rowena
*****
OOH! A BUNNY ❤️
Waldo's Waffles, cool, now I want waffles
*****
Dean blacked out and woke up in a park
Say that five times, "devil-baby-mama-drama"
okay Dean's brain has issues, it's uh.. slowed? disconnected?
oh, and a woman slapped him 😂
*****
he doesn't remember simple words, he can't figure out which key is the car's, he accidentally drove the wrong way
Dean baby, you need to lay down
"Who's Dean?"
*****
Dean can't name Bon Jovi? -> he broken
A LIGHT STICK
*****
Okay I can see why we need Rowena right now
*****
okay, we're retracing Dean's steps
he steals a cigar (you did the same yesterday)
Dean shot tequilla, put on sick tunes, and rode Larry the bull 😂
And then he ran out
okay we have video surveillance
oh god this episode is actually sad
Dean forgot everything, he's forgetting who he is, what they do
...so when is he going to forget Sam?
*****
And, our best friend's an angel!
Oh, the witch is already dead
so, uh, what now?
*****
Oh my God there's post its everywhere now 😂
Light switch, art, closet, beds, phone?
TV
😂
*****
Rowena of course knows the entire story of these witches
*****
the fact that it's a series and I know he's gonna get fixed helps me not be completely and utterly destroyed by how sad this is
he is forgetting everything
Sam, Mary, Cas
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Supernatural going on 15 years robbed us of Jensen's incredible acting, in other contexts
Look at this performance
Look at this small, minuscule scene in the grand scheme of the show
and still, it is a masterpiece
*****
there's post its on the chairs and his backpack
*****
wow, what a pretty butterfly
oh well, less pretty when they're hurting Sam's head
*****
Rowena leaving Dean in the car with notes 😂
Stay
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so that's why Rowena knows them
*****
"Open me"
"No"
"Witch killing bullets" "This gun"
*****
No no no. Brother. Witch.
youtube
*****
Ah, Dean's an asshole 😂😂😂
*****
Aww, sweet conversation with brothers ❤️
*****
Ah, Dean on the bull!
yes, the bi energy™ moment
youtube
*****
youtube
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deanscaps · 3 years
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spn-caps · 3 years
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soy-em · 7 years
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New Wincest Fic: Realisation (1/2)
Title:  Realisation
Chapter: 1/2 (I think)
Pairing: Sam Winchester/Dean Winchester
Rating: E/NC17 overall (this part T/PG13)
Warnings: none for this part
Summary:  After Dean gets his memory back, Sam has to deal with the consequences Dean losing his inhibitions. Trouble is, he has no way of knowing whether Dean remembers anything or not.
Series: Sequel to Distraction
A03
Sam knows it makes him a bad person, but he’s actually kind of glad they haven’t seen their mom for a while. He just doesn’t know how he would look her in the eye right now. He’s struggling, and at least without Mom around he’s got one less family member to worry about.
Family.
That’s the problem.
Ever since Dean lost his memory and ...things...happened, family is one of two words that thrums through his head every minute of the day, sometimes even waking him up at night in a cold sweat. The other word is brother.
Because Dean is his family, Dean is his brother, and therefore the thoughts he’s having, the dreams, the way his mind drifts when he’s in the shower, in the minutes between waking and sleeping, it’s all so very wrong.
Sam’s pessimistic thoughts are interrupted by said brother slamming the door open as he comes into the bunker, hands full of beer and shopping. “Oy, Sammy,” he shouts. “Lend a hand.”
Dean had been out for a couple of hours, doing their monthly supply run. Apparently, despite the many magical properties of the bunker, it didn’t automatically restock on toilet paper. It had been a real learning curve for them both - neither of them had ever really had a fixed home, and their few intermittent attempts had been with women who were used to living civilian life and running regular shops. They’d learned the hard way to make sure to replace the toilet roll before it ran out, as well as having to buy laundry detergent and other cleaning supplies. Sam has never felt the weight of his life choices, his decision to be with Dean, as much as he had in the queue at their first major walmart shop as they pushed a trolley full of toilet bleach and washing up liquid.
Carrying in the shopping is the kind of mindless task that allows his brain to run riot these days. He follows Dean to and from the kitchen, and finds himself idly noting the strength of his brother’s shoulders, the way Dean’s hands capably juggle the fruit he bought for Sam, how his brother’s legs bow out as he crouches to get under the sink, they way Dean’s jean’s tighten over his ass.
It’s been happening ever since Dean lost his memory and got it back, this casual appraisal of how beautiful Dean is that both his upstairs brain and, distressingly, his downstairs brain are carrying on without his permission.
It’s like he’s become aware, in a way he hasn’t been since he was a teenager and jealous of the way girls flocked to his brother, that Dean is superlatively beautiful. He’s always known objectively, has taken advantage of it for a case many times as Dean has flirted them out of trouble or into information, but now - now that knowledge is real, and intimate.
He can’t help but remember the easy, loose way Dean had stood in front of him, all the tension gone from his body, offering himself to Sam like it was totally normal. Kissing Sam like it was totally normal. He remembers the way that muscle had felt under his hands, the warmth of Dean and his familiar, comforting smell. He remembers the way Dean had been ready and willing to be directed, to do whatever would best please Sam. Most of all, he remembers the way Dean tasted, like beer and mint and safety; the plush feel of his brothers’ lips on his; the little noises Dean had made at the back of his throat.
Sam has blocked so many things out over the years, has repressed so many memories that’s he’s happy to say he’s an expert, but none of his techniques seem to work for this. Apparently, incestuous memories are so disgusting, make him such a terrible person that even his subconscious, with its memories of hell and torture, doesn’t want them and is forcing the memories to the forefront of his conscious mind.
“Earth to Sam,” Dean says, lobbing an orange at him which hits him in the shoulder. “You alright?”
Sam has been caught staring again, that much is obvious. Hopefully it was at something more innocent than Dean’s ass (unlike last time).
“Fine,” he says, distracted.
“Uh huh,” Dean says. He looks intently at Sam, and then smirks, turning his back and wiggling his butt, just ever so slightly. So slightly that Sam would never have noticed if he hadn’t been laser-focused on it already. Dean looks back over his shoulder at Sam, almost coquettish, and says, “You coming?”
Sam sputters. There’s no more elegant way of putting it, he sputters and stares, and again, Dean smirks.
Not for the first time, Sam wonders if Dean had been telling the truth when he said he didn’t remember anything.
***
They’re in a bit of a lull, in terms of work. Ramiel is dead, Kelly Kline is in the wind, with Cas tracking her, and Sam really, really doesn’t want to know what Rowena is up to. He can’t bear the thought of having to see Rowena’s knowing smirk any time soon. He’s scoured the internet for possible cases, desperate to get out on a hunt, but for once, America’s supernatural beings seem quiet.
That leaves him and Dean puttering around the bunker, taking care of all the chores that they put off during cases. That’s another thing Sam had more or less forgotten: how much work goes into keeping a home just ticking over. He and Dean had sat down a while back and created a painstaking schedule of who was to clean which toilet when; who would drive the garbage to the nearest bins; and what chores Sam would take over in return for Dean being solely responsible for the cooking (it was in everyone’s best interests). On top of routine housework, they’re still working their way through the bunker’s extensive hoard of supernatural paraphernalia; there are whole rooms of neatly filed boxes they haven’t searched through methodically, and with Lucifer’s son potentially about to be born into the world, now seems like a good time.
Dean, of course, is not a big fan of sitting down for extensive periods to research obscure artifacts or read through old case notes from the 1940s. They’re sitting at the main table in the bunker now, surrounded by files from the early part of 1947, and Dean is getting visibly frustrated. He’s tapping his fingers, leaning backwards and then forwards incessantly and sighing loudly at intervals.
Sam is well-versed in Dean - how could he not be after living in each other’s pockets for most of their lives? He’s normally able to easily drown out his brother’s ridiculous, childish behaviour through immersing himself in lore. But now, since the spell, he’s hyper-aware of Dean’s every movement. Each time Dean leans forwards, the detail of the freckles across the bridge of his nose and his perfect, thick eyelashes come into view; when he leans back, his old band t-shirt stretches across the muscles of his chest in a way that leaves little to the imagination.
Sam has barely gotten used to this more casual version of Dean since they’ve been living in the bunker; out on the road, they both drown themselves in layers of clothing in case they have to run, or on the off-chance that something nasty gets spilled on them (they’d learnt that lesson the hard way); but here, Dean is usually just in a tshirt and soft track pants, often even barefoot. It lends him a fragility that hurts Sam’s heart a little; and creates a sense of domesticity that highlights their shared life together.
Looking at Dean now, Sam could swear that he can see his brother’s (frustratingly perky) nipples through the thin fabric. Before he can stop himself, his mind wanders off into wondering whether Dean would squirm if Sam bit them, and imagining the noises Dean would make.
He almost growls when he catches himself. On top of the instinctive repulsion at the thought of incest is the knowledge that he’s turning into one of the men he’s always hated: the men who visibly and consistently objectify his brother.
He’s been aware, since he was small, that Dean attracted attention. Girls at school would swoon, and suddenly be Sam’s best friend, when they realised who his brother was. Older women in motels would find ways to bring them food, or move them to a better room, after one of Dean’s blinding smiles. Guys at every school they went to flocked around Dean, trying to get his attention, or just hoping to hook up with the girls drawn into his orbit. Dean had loved all of that; somehow soaked up the smiles and the approval without letting it spoil him.
But Dean had hated the way men looked at him. Even at 9 or 10, Sam had been aware of the way men would hesitate by their table, looking at his brother; of the catcalls that had followed them across parking lots later at night and the way teachers at their new schools would sometimes find themselves spellbound for a few moments before pulling themselves together. More times than he could remember, Sam had seen John approach a leering man, fists clenched, before the guy very rapidly vacated the area; or had watched as John hustled Dean into the car, or walked his son into motel rooms with a protective arm around his shoulder.
As Sam had gotten older, and Dean had been left to look after them both more frequently, Sam had become aware of what the men had said to Dean and the offers they made. They’d frequently promised money, which Dean had always rejected with rude words and a shudder; but in retrospect, Sam now wonders if Dean had sometimes felt forced to accept in order to put food on the table. Every time his mind wanders down that track, the fury he feels is so strong that he can’t bear to think about it, mind skittering away.
So when Sam finds himself staring at his brother, mind caught up for endless minutes in how pretty Dean is, how goddamn sexy he finds his brother’s every move, he can’t help but think he’s objectifying his brother in the same way, perving over him in a manner that Dean would find repulsive.
With an internal groan, he buries his head back in the dusty files, swearing that he’ll ignore Dean and his perky nipples until the end of time.
***
Dean’s been more touchy-feely than usual lately. Sam doesn’t know if it’s just because things have actually been right with them for the past couple of years; or if their mother’s reappearance has made Dean a little more vulnerable; or if it’s something else altogether; but he’s noticed it a lot recently.
They’ve never had much concept of personal space, growing up crowded into the back seat of the Impala or crushed together in a single motel bed. Their arms always brush when they walk, their knees press together when they’re sitting side by side, and their elbows find each other’s ribs more than is strictly comfortable. But now, Sam finds himself with Dean’s feet in his lap in the evenings, Dean’s arm hooked around his shoulders a few times a day, Dean’s head drooping onto his shoulder late at night. He knows it’s a recent change, but he can’t put his finger on just how recent. There’s a little voice in his head saying that it’s only been happening since the spell, but he’s trying resolutely to ignore that. There’s no way that Dean remembers anything from that time, his memory was so shot; so it’s just Sam’s wishful thinking.
***
It’s late the next evening when Sam finally pushes the last file from 1948 away from him. He’s been immersed all day in a fascinating case about shifters and how they reproduce; reminding him of that case with the babies when he’d been soulless. It’s not a time he generally likes to think of; but that case had been different. His brother had loved looking after little Bobby-John and had been devastated to give the baby up. Sometimes Sam thinks that the greatest tragedy of their lives is that Dean will never get to be a father.
Unwilling to dwell any longer on that thought, he leans back, cracking his neck and stretching out cramped muscles. Raising his hands to the ceiling, he feels his shoulder pop and sighs at the advance of age on his body.
The bunker is quiet, and he wonders where Dean is. He hasn’t seen his brother for a few hours; after spending half the afternoon researching, Dean had become increasingly fidgety and finally stalked off, muttering something about the garage and testing out the cars there. He’d come back into the main room to shove a plate of food under Sam’s nose a few hours ago, but Sam has hasn’t seen him since.
Sam can feel himself getting restless now at the realisation of how long it’s been since he saw his brother; it’s been this way between them ever since he can remember, both of them feeling the aching need to check in with each other at regular intervals. Sam can ignore it, of course, he’d been able to suppress it for four years at Stanford; but he’s long since stopped wanting to.
He sets off in search of his brother, long legs carrying him through the bunker. Dean’s not in the kitchen or his room, and when Sam pokes his head into the garage there’s no sign of him there either, although his tools are still laid out next to one of the cars.
He finally works out where Dean is when he hears his brother’s off-key warbling emerging from the main shower room. Sam shouldn’t be surprised; he thinks that Dean has an unhealthy fixation with the bunker showers, and Dean absolutely does not care what Sam thinks and takes the longest showers ever anyway.
Content now that he knows Dean’s whereabouts, he’s about to head towards his own room when the bathroom door opens and a cloud of steam billows out. It’s like something from a bad eighties music video, the steam sweeping upwards and obscuring the light. Sam snorts, wondering how Dean could possible create this much steam from one shower.
He’s so busy snickering to himself that he’s not prepared for his brother to emerge from the cloud, bare skin gleaming and droplets trailing down to the towel wrapped around his waist. Dean hair is spiked up adorably, and the heavy muscles of his chest and arms are on full display.
Sam’s laughter dies in his throat along with his ability to breathe. His brain decides to go on holiday, all the useful blood that usually powers it heading rapidly south, and he actually gurgles at Dean, unable to form words.
Dean smirks. He smoothes one hand down his chest, spreading water droplets down to the dubious barrier of the towel, but his eyes lock onto Sam’s, burning with intensity.
They stand, unmoving, for a long moment.
“Like what you see, Sam?”
The words and the low, intimate tone catapult Sam back into that motel room a few weeks ago, when he’d so nearly crumbled in the face of Dean’s undeniable charm. Sam’s voice stays on vacation and he’s unable to find the words to respond, mouth opening and closing without success.
It feels like they’re trapped there forever, Dean not moving and Sam unable to. Finally, Dean sighs.
“Night, Sammy,” he says quietly, and walks down the hall. Sam can’t help watching him go, eyes drawn to the dimples of his back peeking above the towel. He’s so fucked.
***
Sam downs most of a bottle of whiskey that evening in an attempt to shut his brain down. It takes that much to stop his mind from fixating on the vision of his brother he’d seen earlier, and to keep his hand out of his pants.
He wakes up the next morning feeling like shit. He’s not used to hangovers; heavy drinking has always been Dean’s chosen method of oblivion, not his. He makes his way to the kitchen painfully, and slowly, hoping that Dean has some coffee ready for him and beyond pleased that they have no plans for today.
“Wakey wakey, Sammy,” Dean says, already dressed and looking cheerful. “Rise and shine!” He’s obnoxiously loud and he grins as he waves a coffee cup at Sam, playing a short game of ‘keep away’ before taking pity and handing the cup over. “You look like shit,” he continues.
“Fucking thanks,” is Sam’s only response, before he buries his nose over the cup, inhaling deeply.
“Aww, poor Sammy,” Dean croons. “Feeling a bit delicate, are we?”
“Fuck off.”
“Poor little brother.” Dean rubs his hand through Sam’s hair and Sam shudders, stomach roiling.
“Do that again and I’ll throw up on you,” he threatens weakly, and Dean throws his head back with laughter.
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arcanespillo · 7 months
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"Regarding Dean"
SPN S12E11
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slipper007 · 3 years
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Remembrance
1020 words
Tags: Canon Compliant, Episode: s12e11 Regarding Dean, implied love confession, Memory Loss, Angst, Dean Winchester Tries, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping
“My name is Dean Winchester. Sam is my brother. Uh, Mary Winchester is my mom. And Cast— Cas is my best friend.”
Dean sighed. He knew this wasn’t going to stop anything, but maybe it would delay it.
He had been ready, years ago, to go out with a bang, not that this was much of one, but… he had dared to dream… with the way things had been going, he had finally started to regain the hope that had died long ago. He had wished for a moment that when his life eventually flashed before his eyes, it would be long. He wanted years more of memories. He wanted to know his mother, he wanted Castiel to stay, he wanted to see Sammy get his happy ending, he wanted to be free… He wanted to live.
What do you say when your life disappears before your eyes?
You say it again.
Read the rest on AO3
Taglist under the cut
Please let me know if you want to be added or removed or if this totally goes against tumblr etiquette, I'm very new to this.
@antifacas @bihunnicutt @bonkybornes @c-kaeru @chaoticdean @casgirl @ineffable-impala @theangelwiththewormstache @thiscastielhasflown
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lower-the-volume · 6 months
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12.11 Regarding Dean
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maggiemaybe160 · 5 years
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Regarding Us
Get ready for some ANGST based on the episode Season 12 Episode 11: Regarding Dean. THE FULL 4 CHAPTER FIC IS ON MY AO3! Major Character Death Warning
A light knock comes at the door and Dean looks over at… Sam. He looks over at Sam briefly before turning back to the Scooby Doo episode on the tv.
“How bad is he?” The deep voice rocks Dean to his core and he can no longer focus on the cartoons. He turns off the thing with the button thing and leans over so he can see who Sam is talking to.
A man with dark hair and piercing blue eyes stands. He looks worried and maybe like his hands have run through his hair too many times.
“Bad.” Sam and the man look over at Dean who blushes. He grins and waves from his spot on the bed. “Dean, this is Cas. He’s going to tell you a story.” “I’m going to what?” Cas asks at the same time that Dean asks, “He’s going to what?”
“I need to talk to Rowena. She’s still trying to figure out how to reverse this. He likes stories. Just… Please, Cas?” Sam looks from the man to Dean and back. He looks sad and Dean wonders why.
“Of course,” Cas nods. Sam thanks him and leaves the room, leaving Cas and Dean alone. “Hello, Dean.” Cas walks into the bedroom and sits on the edge of the bed, leaving space between himself and Dean. “I’m going to tell you a story.” “I like those,” Dean says, grinning and turning to face Cas. “I think.”
“This story is a special one. It starts on September 18, 2008. There was a man who had sold his soul to save his brother which is why he was in Hell that day. He had spent thirty of his forty years in Hell refusing to join the demons in torturing others. When he gave in, his angel knew he was too late. The plan had been to rescue him well before that breaking point, but Castiel had been forbidden until Dean, that was the man’s name, said yes.
“So on September the 18th, Castiel was finally given permission to fly into Hell and rescue the man. He gripped him by the shoulders and pulled him out, raising him from perdition. So Dean was saved, in a way. He woke up on Earth and climbed out of his grave. Castiel watched and knew that he had done the right thing in rescuing this man.
“He also knew that he was in trouble. Castiel was an angel of the Lord. His job was his life and his life was following Heaven’s orders like a toy soldier. He was never meant to care about the human he saved on a personal level. He was never meant to fall in love. It was against the rules of Heaven and Earth, forbidden by God, angels, and humans.”
“Is this a love story?” Dean asks.
“Yes. This is a love story,” Cas smiles and it lights up the room better than the light stick. His eyes are gorgeous and intense, blue with all the colors of the ocean and sky.
“I like love stories,” Dean says, moving to make himself more comfortable for the long story.
“I know you do.” Cas runs his hands over his knees absently as he continues. “Castiel didn’t know what love was, but he later learned that he was. He was in love with Dean. From the moment he saw him, his hands gripping his soul, he belonged to Dean.
“He watched Dean walk alone in the heat of the afternoon, parched from his four months in Hell. When he made it to the gas station, Castiel tried to talk to him. He needed to tell him that everything would be fine. He needed him to know who had rescued him and that he was safe. He needed to tell Dean that Heaven had work for him. The rescue from Hell came at a price.
“When Castiel spoke, the sound pierced through Dean’s eardrums and shattered the windows. He had hoped that his feelings toward this human weren’t one-sided. Usually, special individuals could hear the true voice of an angel. Dean couldn’t. Castiel was hurt as he watched Dean cover his ears in pain. Pain that told Castiel that Dean couldn’t hear him.
“He continued to gaze upon this Winchester as a guardian and with affection. He watched him locate his family, arriving on their doorsteps and treated as a monster until proven otherwise. He watched and waited to try speaking again as he worked on gaining the trust of a man named Jimmy Novak.
“Jimmy was the kind of man who loved God with his entire being. He had room reserved for his wife and daughter, but he was a man of faith first and foremost. His union was divine, and he knew felt it. Cupid had laid a hand on him and Amelia, giving them to each other. Their union was as holy as a nun’s promise to God. So, when Castiel spoke to him and Jimmy heard his voice and answered, Castiel knew that he had found his vessel. Gently, he persuaded the man to let him in.
“Dean was misguided and scared. He was brought to a psychic who refused to listen to Castiel when she asked to see him. Castiel knew what would happen to the poor woman if she gazed on his true form. He tried to ignore her and save Dean from the horrible vision that was Pamela having her eyes melted. She would not relent and Castiel was forced to show his face to the psychic. He heard her screams and watched Dean’s horror-stricken face. He was ashamed as he watched Dean recoil.
“Castiel was finally given a vessel and opened his eyes to see Earth from an entirely new perspective. He was confined to one spot and no longer had the liberty of birds-eye view. He was limited and in the only form that Dean would be able to look at him and hear him without becoming maimed. He had to get to Dean Winchester.
“It was September 20th when Dean met Castiel. His green eyes were wide with fear as he raised his gun and shot into Castiel’s chest. He somehow looked even more perfect from the point of view of a human. His freckles stood out on his tanned skin under the exploding lights. His lips, pink and pursed, parted when his sigils and rock salt rounds did nothing to hinder Castiel.
“Dean didn’t believe Castiel when he was told that Castiel was an angel. As proof, the angel unfurled his wings and drew them out to their full length. He knew Dean wouldn’t be able to actually see them. If he hadn’t been able to hear his true voice, he wouldn’t be able to see even this small display of his true form. Still, Dean’s face reflected the astonishment as he took in the sight of what must have been shadows of the actual wings on the barn wall.
“The longer Castiel stood that close to Dean, the stronger their bond grew. A bond had been forged between them when Castiel had pulled him from Hell. Heaven refers to this bond as a soul mate. Usually, soulmates are helped together by the Cupids if they don’t find each other by themselves. Soulmates are also usually only human. It is forbidden for an angel to love a human, but that didn’t stop the bond from igniting the second Castiel touched Dean. The only way to describe the invisible, yet very strong, tether, was to call it a profound bond. So that is exactly what Castiel called it.
“Dean felt it too. He felt it the second he came face to face with the angel. While Castiel masked his love, fearing Heaven’s wrath, Dean hid his, fearing rejection. Dean was afraid of both Castiel’s rejection and his own self-hate. He had learned to let himself enjoy the company of other men after years of rejecting that side of himself, but to fall in love with a monster? A creature? Something that could be shot at and stabbed without any kind of reaction? He had never allowed himself the possibility of falling in love with something to hunt. He never had to. Then, he was never faced with a soulmate of another world before.
“Castiel was held back when jealousy raged through him at the sight of Dean laying with another angel. He was experimenting, unwilling to test the waters with someone he cared for, no matter how new Castiel and Dean’s acquaintanceship was. Anna was about to give herself back to Heaven and she asked for Dean. That night, Castiel was robbed of a moment he had wanted for himself. Uriel, another angel, grew spiteful. He was beginning to learn the feeling of hate when he found himself disgusted with Castiel’s jealousy. When Uriel found out about Castiel’s love, he told Dean, hoping to disgust the human. Disgust the hunter of monsters with the revelation that a monster was in love with him.
“It was only after Dean prayed for the first time that Castiel got the nerve to speak to Dean about the way that he felt. He walked into Dean’s dream, ready to profess his love unto his human. He told Dean where to meet him and when he stepped out of Dean’s dream, effectively waking the hunter, Castiel was dragged back to Heaven. He screamed as he was tortured for his love. The idea of loving a human was such a disgrace to the other angels that they tortured him endlessly, pounding the lesson into his being. He served Heaven, not man. And he was nothing to Dean Winchester. The words didn’t stick. They hurt him deeply.
“It wasn’t long later that Dean prayed again. He prayed, screaming Castiel’s name into the night for hours. Castiel listened, pained and restrained for two hours before he was finally released. When he came face to face with Dean, he knew.
“ ‘What the hell happened in Illinois?’ Dean demanded. His heart was in his eyes, filled with the betrayal that Castiel knew landed on his shoulders though it was the other angels’ fault.
“He had to lie and tell him he didn’t remember or that it didn’t matter. ‘Nothing of import,’  passed his lips while the truth carved itself into his heart, branding him with a DW.
“Cas still didn’t have the words to tell Dean how he felt. He didn’t have the human knowledge to realize that what he felt was unconditional love. He didn’t have the need for such an idea before he had met Dean. He opened his mouth to answer but no words came.
“ ‘You got your ass reamed in Heaven, but it was not of import ?’
“ ‘Dean,” Cas pleaded. ‘I can’t.’ He couldn’t tell Dean. He wasn’t allowed these feelings. Dean’s eyes pierced through him, digging for the real answer. The answer that would only strengthen their bond and incite the fury of Heaven.
“Dean was the one who made the first move. Cas had been about to walk away when Dean’s hand caught his, pulling him back. Their eyes locked and Dean’s hand moved up to caress the side of Cas’ face in a way that he had never had the right to hope for. The kiss that followed was everything. It was defiance and freedom on both of their parts. It was a confession and answer when Dean kissed Cas and Cas kissed back.”
“Who are they?” Dean breathes, fully entranced.
“Who?” the man asks gently, his eyes swallowing Dean whole.
“Them.”
“Dean and Cas,” the man says softly. “You and me.”
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Dean ►  Regarding Dean (12.11)
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