#and in all seriousness once cas came and heaven and hell became canon in it

[mccoys-killer-queen]

ok but fr the first 3-4 seasons of supernatural weren't bad

[bluephoenixdruidicprincess]

e f j

Oh my gosh! Thanks so much! I totally wasn’t expecting anyone to actually ask me anything. Lets dig into these, shall we? 

E -- Top 5 Episodes

Oh my gosh, you started off with such a hard one! I am so guilty and such a terrible SPN fan! I haven’t done a proper re-watch in like 2 years! So while I can’t say that these episodes are necessarily my top episodes, they are episodes I remember and reflect fondly of. So with that said, let’s begin the countdown of my “top 5″ episodes of SPN. 

#5 5x08, Changing Channels -- It’s a fun episode and an episode I never mind re-visiting

#4 7x16, Out With The Old -- It’s a quirky episode and I like it. I like how we kind of got a different dynamic towards Leviathans with George The Leviathan. I wonder what ever happened to him? Did he get sucked into Purgatory with Dick Roman? It would’ve been nice if we could’ve revisited George in season 15. 

#3 7x20, The Girl With The Dungeons & Dragons Tattoos -- Uh hello, Charlie, duh! Such a good introduction to her. But unfortunately, the writers did not do her justice after she went to Oz and since then, I never really felt like the Charlie in this episode was ever really present again. 

#2 7x21, Reading is Fundamental -- Uh, Megstiel feels! Introduction to Kevin! And I LOVE Kevin. He is so adorable and he deserved so much better than to be Metatron’s collateral damage, he deserved so much better than to be a wandering ghost, then get sent to hell after he Chuck told him he was going to heaven and then escaped from hell and become a wandering ghost AGAIN!!! This boy is only like 17-18 years old canonically. Seriously, what is up with these writers? How dare they do my boy Kevin like that! I only hope when Jack became God, he actually sent Kevin to heaven, poor boy deserves it. 

Wow, so a lot of season 7 episodes made it onto this list. I guess I should come out of the closet as it were. I’m one of the few who doesn’t hate season 7. i actually quite enjoy it. Even if I am salty about the whole thing with Cas and Sera killing him off, the season just has a different, unique feel to it that’s different from all of the other seasons. And I like it. Plus, it introduced a lot of cool new characters. 

So before I give you my number 1, all time top favorite episode of SPN, I’m going to cheat and name off some honorable mentions. 

8x08 -- Hunter Heroici, 9x06 -- Heaven Can’t Wait, 10x05 -- Fan Fiction, 10x07 -- Girls, Girls, Girls (hanstiel is so cute in this episode), 10x20 -- Angel Heart, 6x15 -- The French Mistake, 15x08 -- Our Father Who Aren’t In Heaven (because Midam!), 1x06 -- Bloody Mary. And I’ll end it here otherwise this could go on for a really long time as I peruse the SPN episode list and am reminded of all the episodes I like. 

Here is my top #1 episode!

#1 4x20, The Rapture -- Oh my gosh! I love this episode so much! To this day, Jimmy Novak’s speech to Cas ranting at him for breaking his promise gives me chills! I love Jimmy Novak and this was the episode in which I really was very interested in the dynamics between angels and their vessels and I so desperately wanted to see more of that with Cas and Jimmy. But since we didn’t get it, I’m happy that we at least got Michael and Adam.The Destihellers like to talk about how Dean is what made Cas fall in love with humanity. I disagree on that, first of all,, it’s always been portrayed that Cas has a soft spot for humanity but even if we were to ignore that, I’m personally of the belief that Jimmy played a huge part in endearing humanity to Cas. And obviously, when Cas came back from Bible School in this episode, he had lost all of that through all of heaven’s brainwashing but I also like to think that Jimmy’s sacrifice to Claire started replanting the seeds in Cas about how endearing he finds humanity. So yeah, we can argue all we want about which Winchester was responsible for making Cas fall in love with humanity, but to me, it started first with Jimmy Novak and he was able to break through the brainwashing because of Jimmy Novak and that’s how I choose to see it. 

F -- One Thing You’d Make Canon If You Could

Uh, too easy, Cas confessing to Sam and not Dean. And we get a canonical Sastiel happily ever after! We all know I’m basically Sastiel trash right now!

Or if not Sastiel as an endgame for Sam, SamxJess. I always liked Jess with as little as we got to see with her. 

But also to think outside of the box here, in the essence of making head canons come true, I heard this head canon once that Meg actually used to be Megara from the tale of Hercules. And she made a deal with a crossroads demon to save Hercules and honestly this head canon is kind of dope and I would have loved to have seen it go canon. Meg is already a pretty interesting character but a having a back story like that, uh, it would’ve been awesome. 

J -- Favorite Monster of the Week

I think I’m going to go with Bloody Mary on this. I don’t know, I’ve always liked the ghosts and the Bloody Mary episode has always just kind of stuck with me. It It honestly is a really kind of terrifying episode. And whenever I watch it, like I have to go to bed directly afterwards, no going to the bathroom, no fixing dinner, nothing like that because I’m too scared of accidentally seeing my reflection. So good on my girl Mary for being super terrifying!

Well, I hope you enjoyed these! I certainly enjoyed answering them! And hopefully, my answers were to your liking!

[javocjovian]

When You Awake - PB Gift Exchange

Happy Exchange, @deepeststarfishsong​ !!! I wrote this for the Profound Bond Gift Exchange! The theme was Quarantine & Chill. I hope you like it!!!

Title: When You Awake Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24744199 Ship: Destiel Rating: E Word Count: 3161 Tags: canon compliant, crazy!Cas, bedsharing, friends to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort/fluff, happy ending, first kiss Summary: Set before the finale of season 7, Dean suspects Castiel isn’t as crazy as he seems, but he finds it hard to hold a grudge when he sees Castiel suffering in his sleep.

Beta-ed by saltyravenclaw

(x)

When You Awake

It’s been a week since Sam and Dean narrowly escaped Dick Roman Industries with their lives and a stolen block of clay in a briefcase. It had been days since the demon tablet was recovered and Castiel woke from his penitent slumber. And still, Dean couldn’t accept the fact that Castiel might never truly be himself again. 

His days were now full of games of ‘Sorry’, poorly braided sunflower crowns, and midnight calls about where to hide a dozen stolen monkeys. Everyone else had given Cas up as dysfunctional, unstable, and unable to account for himself, but not Dean. He still glared tight-lipped at Castiel as if he had just sank into the dark waters of Sioux Falls Lake. But it was also Dean who passed his hours by staying at Castiel’s side when they weren’t searching for ways to kill a Leviathan. It was Dean who stayed behind while Sam and Kevin tried to decipher the last few words of the tablet.

 And it was Dean who watched over Castiel while he slept, because he just couldn’t accept that the fate he had given everything to help Sam avoid had been passed on to his best friend.

It was one of those nights when Castiel fell asleep unceremoniously on Dean’s bed that he had the sudden realization he’d never seen an angel sleep. Dean didn’t need to be a prophet to figure out why; Castiel was damaged. The tablet may have woken him, but staying awake was a feat too taxing for Castiel’s broken mind. So Castiel slept. Dean didn’t mind, actually. Hell, he enjoyed the silence for a change. In sleep Castiel looked like himself again, not the blank, delirious puppy he’d become, baffling them all with a thousand and one facts about mulch. 

Dean had never seen an angel dream, either, yet he knew at once Castiel was. While blithely unaware in his waking life, it seemed that in sleep his mind was much less at ease. Castiel tossed and turned endlessly in his sleep, and Dean knew why he was doing that, too. He had those kinds of dreams before. Perhaps it was sympathy that made Dean put his guns aside and try to wake him. It didn’t work, but Castiel seemed to relax at Dean’s touch and he’d fall back into a deep sleep all the same. 

It didn’t last, however. Castiel soon began to writhe again, and when Dean got tired of getting up every ten minutes he begrudgingly moved the covers aside and laid down beside Castiel. He stirred and mumbled something about bees, but Dean shushed him and he fell quiet again. The warmth of Dean’s side against Castiel’s back seemed to do the trick, and it wasn’t until a door slammed an hour later that Dean realized he, too, had fallen asleep, his head drooped on Castiel’s shoulder.

Sam was back with news of the ingredients. At last they could kill Dick Roman.

Days passed while they gathered the ingredients for the Bone of the Righteous Mortal, and Dean found himself spending nights sharing a bed with Castiel. He figured Castiel must have known he was doing it, but he never brought it up and Dean wasn’t complaining. It felt odd, being so angry at someone and yet so unable to listen to their whimpering pleas while they slept. As Dean lay there beside him night after night, his warm touch soothing Castiel as if it were angel grace, Dean had never felt so conflicted. All he knew was that the Castiel suffering in his sleep was the real Castiel, and Dean wouldn’t let him suffer alone.

Hours had passed since Castiel became one with the bees, and thirty minutes since Sam and Dean were given the last ingredient to kill Dick Roman: Crowley’s blood. Ironic that Castiel had been the first ingredient, and he would soon complete the ritual by identifying which of the Romans was the real Dick. That was the theory, anyway. Although no one expected Castiel to do it, not even Dean. It was only while Castiel was asleep that they were united. The Castiel who was awake and spoke of cosmedics testing and horse fertilizer wasn’t the real Castiel.

They had only a short time left together. Dean resented Castiel for wasting it with his avoidant ramblings, even though he knew Castiel could fix himself no easier than Dean could. They would set out in the morning to kill Dick; with or without him. Dean wasn’t sure which he wanted, which would soothe his fractured soul. Either way, he went to check on Castiel during the night like he always did.

Castiel was dreaming as usual, although tonight it sounded worse than ever. His breathing was uneven and his back was moving up and down roughly. Dean went to the side of the bed and touched Castiel’s shoulder, but this time Castiel didn’t relax. This time Castiel jumped and turned to look at him. 

Despite the surprise of finding Castiel awake, Dean’s face fell to its usual stony expression. Castiel however was far from looking usual. His eyes were bloodshot and his cheeks were tearstained and red. He looked so human in that moment. Dean felt his stomach drop.

Castiel laid back down, turning to face the wall and spoke as steadily as he could. “Dean, I have nothing more to say. I’m not going with you,” he stated calmly, as if they were discussing it over checkers.

Dean felt like he was suffering from whiplash. He removed his hand. “I know,” he croaked, his voice sounding rougher than usual. “I was just checking on you.”

Castiel went silent at this, except for the occasional, stifled sniff. 

It took Dean several uncomfortably silent moments to realize what he’d walked on. Castiel, the broken angel, was crying in his bed, isolating himself from Sam and Dean. Dean’s inner turmoil became too great and his hard expression softened. Listening to Castiel suffering while awake was infinitely worse than listening to it while he slept. Dean heard another stifled intake of breath, and he felt his resolve finally crack in two like the demon tablet hitting the floor of the asylum. 

Dean sighed heavily. He pulled the covers back, making Castiel glance over at him. He watched in bleary-eyed confusion as Dean laid down beside him and stared resolutely at the wall opposite the bed.

Castiel didn’t know how to respond. It seemed not even the new, flighty Castiel knew what to say. So Castiel merely rolled back over and let Dean lay next to him in silence. The warmth of Dean’s side against his back was comforting, and Castiel’s quiet, breathy sobs soon subsided. 

“Dean…” he rasped.

Dean didn’t respond.

“I can’t… I can’t go with you,” he repeated.

“I’m not asking you to,” Dean grumbled. “Just get some sleep.”

Dean could tell by Castiel’s silence that he was even more confused, but for some reason Dean couldn’t speak. His throat felt constricted. Minutes passed before Castiel spoke again.

“Dean..”

Castiel’s voice sounded choked again, and Dean looked at him despite himself. He watched Castiel’s shoulder rise and fall as he took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry.”

Dean stared impassively at the back of Castiel’s rumpled white shirt. He knew he wasn’t talking about Dick Roman anymore. For a brief moment, Castiel’s sadness filled him with selfish relief. It was the first time Dean felt a flutter of hope that Castiel was back. He felt his anger and fear dissolve, but in their wake flooded in a tidal wave of guilt. Dean had done nothing but treat Castiel like crap since he woke up, when he knew perhaps more than anyone else that Castiel was still in there.

Dean tried to reply, but he couldn’t get the words out. So instead, he moved the covers aside and put his arm under Castiel. Castiel didn’t seem able to ask questions. He let Dean roll him over and pull him into an embrace.

“It’s okay,” Dean said gently.

A rush of relief weakened Castiel and he broke into renewed sobs. He lay there against Dean’s chest, letting his tears run dry while Dean shushed him gently.

When Castiel had calmed enough to speak, he couldn’t help but go on. “I was trying to save Heaven, to save you, I tried… so hard… but nothing I did…” he hiccuped, shoulders shuddering.

“Cas,” Dean looked at him seriously, and Castiel was relieved to see that he no longer looked impassive. His eyes gleamed like a deep forest in the dimly lit room. “I forgive you.”

It took a long time for those words to sink into Castiel’s conscience. They seemed to ease Dean’s pain as much as Castiel’s.

Several long minutes passed as they lay comforting each other in the dead of night, on the eve of what could be their final mission. Dean suddenly didn’t want to go. He wanted to stay in that bed with Castiel and never think of Leviathans or Dick again. He wanted to join Castiel in his isolation, quarantining himself from the world, or perhaps the world from himself. But he couldn’t. If there was anything in life that Dean was certain of, it was that he would never be able to stay behind, no matter who he had in bed with him.

Dean watched Castiel’s neck move as he breathed, his chest gently rising and falling beneath his shirt. He looked at Castiel’s hand resting in the folds of Dean’s shirt, and how their bodies leaned against each other where the blanket covered them. He could smell Castiel. He wondered why he never noticed what Castiel smelled like. It was such a human smell. Like sweat and earth, and something uniquely ‘Cas’. 

Castiel’s eyes were closed. Dean wondered if he had fallen asleep. A recklessness came over him in the safety of the dark bedroom, a need to express himself, a need to tell Castiel everything before it was too late, so Dean tipped his head down and kissed Castiel’s forehead.

Castiel didn’t stir, but when Dean moved away Castiel looked up at him. Dean couldn’t remember the last time he’d looked Castiel in the eyes. They were closer than they’d ever been, and Dean saw something all too familiar in their clear, blue depths: something vulnerable and human. Dean didn’t realize he was doing it until it was too late. Castiel watched him, unmoving, as Dean leaned in against him and kissed his lips.

For a moment they didn’t move, they just breathed against each other’s lips, and then Castiel’s eyes closed. He closed his lips over Dean’s, and Dean’s lips seemed to move of their own accord. He kissed Castiel slowly, gently, and he was surprised when he felt Castiel move his hand off of Dean’s chest and cradle Dean’s face. It was like Castiel couldn’t figure out if Dean was really there. Dean pulled Castiel closer under the covers and kissed him back into the pillows. When Castiel didn’t resist, but rather pulled Dean’s face closer, Dean opened the kiss and leaned into him.

It was as if Dean was trying to communicate every unspoken word into that kiss, every shout he’d refrained from, and at the same time every word of comfort. Castiel, who so rarely understood, seemed to be taking it in was surprising comprehension. It made Dean feel vulnerable, but in a new way. A way that didn’t frighten him or make him want to run. A way that brought him only closer to Castiel under those covers and made him kiss Castiel even deeper.

Despite the warmth spreading through his body, Dean’s mind was icy cold. He was all too aware that Castiel had spent the last few months in an incoherent state, and he began to pull back. But when Castiel felt the kiss begin to fade, he wove his fingers between Dean’s. The gesture was so sincere that Dean felt his heart swell and he looked at Castiel hesitantly. 

Their eyes met in the dimly lit room, and Dean found himself needing to explain.

“Cas…” he murmured, but no more words came to him. He suddenly felt helpless, unable to communicate. He realized, perhaps inappropriately that Sam would know what to say if it were him in bed with Castiel. Sam would be able to sort out his feelings and express them to Castiel. Sam would be able to treat Castiel right.

“I forgive you, too,” Castiel rasped.

Dean stared at him. In giving him the answer, Dean understood the question. His self-doubt and fear seemed to rise up, glowing like a soul released to heaven, and dissipated through the roof of the small bedroom. Dean didn’t need to say anything at all as he leaned back down and kissed Castiel.

It felt like an entire lifetime passed during that kiss, and yet Dean suddenly found himself moving again. Seconds later he was wedged between Castiel’s legs and kissing him deeply. His need was reciprocated as Castiel helped him remove his shirt. Castiel was warm and firm beneath him, with just the right amount of give, and Castiel kissed him encouragingly as they both stripped naked. Dean pulled Castiel’s bare chest against his own and revelled in the sensation. He’d seen Cas all but naked before. He’d pulled bullets and shrapnel out of Castiel’s body. Yet he’d never felt Castiel’s body like this: hot and pressing and moving against Dean’s. It felt like a dream.

Dean had never been so consumed with need before, and when he saw that need reflected in Castiel’s eyes Dean didn’t need to ask the question. Castiel shifted his legs to let Dean in, and soon Dean was sinking hot and raw into Castiel’s body.

Castiel gasped, but it was unlike any sound he’d made while dreaming. It wasn’t a gasp of pain or fear, it was a soft shock of pleasure. Dean wove their fingers together on the bed and Castiel squeezed his hand. Dean gave him a long, lingering kiss as they adjusted to the feel of each other, then Dean began slowly, passionately, making love to Castiel.

Castiel’s bedroom was once again full of the sounds of stifled pleas and heavy breaths, although this time Castiel wasn’t in pain. Dean panted along with him, their bodies moving as one. Dean couldn’t remember ever feeling so good. When Castiel’s head sank back into the pillows, no longer able to kiss Dean, Dean upped the pace and deepened his thrusts. Castiel rolled his hips instinctively and Dean groaned and buried his head in Castiel’s shoulder.

Their movements became hurried and desperate. Castiel squeezed Dean’s hand and murmured something Dean didn’t understand. Was it Enochian? Either way, Dean could tell Castiel was close. He could feel it in the way Castiel moved, in the way he tried and failed to grip Dean’s short hair. Dean moved his hand between them and stroked Castiel, and he knew it was all over

“Dean!”

Castiel came right there, his pleasure bursting forth in spurts. His eyes fell shut and his jaw dropped. Dean kissed him through his orgasm, and found his own not far behind. With Castiel undulating and gasping beneath him, he didn’t stand a chance. He pulled out just in time and moaned into Castiel’s shoulder as he pumped himself dry. 

To his surprise, he felt Castiel’s hand fumbling over his own. Dean let Castiel wrap his hand around Dean’s throbbing cock, so close to complete, and the contact alone pushed him over the edge. Dean found himself rocking his hips into Castiel’s hand to finish. Once it had passed, it felt like he’d been hit by a tidal wave. He collapsed beside Castiel, who put his arm beneath Dean and pulled him close. Dean didn’t mind one bit. He lay against him while their breathing slowed and their bodies came down from that perfect high.

Minutes passed before either of them spoke. Long, blissful minutes that neither wanted to end. They were hot and sweaty, and Dean could smell Castiel stronger than ever. He didn’t think he’d ever inhaled anything so divine.

“Dean…”

Castiel was so close to him that he barely had to move to make eye contact. Dean was relieved to see that Castiel looked as exhausted, and satisfied, as he did.

“Yeah, Cas.”

“What that… okay?”

Dean smiled. The muscles in his face felt alien to him. “That was great, Cas.” He murmured, leaning forward and kissing Castiel’s forehead. This time, Castiel smiled back.

Their smiles faded quickly, weighed down by the impossible task facing them the following day. Dean didn’t think he could stand to bring it up. Not after that. A part of him suddenly hoped he would die in the assault so that his last moment of happiness would be with Cas. The real Cas. Unanalyzed, unspoiled, nothing but bliss memory. But just as Dean decided he wouldn’t say anything about Dick, Castiel brought it up instead.

“Dean…”

Dean didn’t know how it happened, but he realized in that moment that he had learned what Castiel was about to say just by the way he said his name.

“I’ll go with you.”

Dean stared at him. A flicker of fear lit inside him, slowly eroding his post-orgasm bliss. The words took a few moments to hit him. At least he replied, “No. No, you said you wanted to stay here. So stay.”

“Dean…”

“If things go sideways tomorrow, at least I’ll know you’re safe.”

Castiel considered this. “And if I go with you, maybe things won’t go sideways.”

Dean gave him a penetrating look. He knew Castiel was right. Hell, he’d been pushing Castiel to go with all day long. But now it made the fear in him swell. A new kind of fear that made him almost regret what he’d just done.

“Cas…”

“I was afraid of going with you, because I was afraid I’d fail again,” Castiel admitted, “I was afraid of getting you hurt. But my place is, and always been, by your side.” 

Maybe it was because Castiel looked clearer than he had in years, but Dean didn’t contradict him. He didn’t want to. The words echoed in his head, making his heart swell. The fear hadn’t left him, but he kissed Castiel again and said, “Okay.”

Castiel gave him a small smile. There were so many things he wanted to say. So much time to make up for. But as Dean pulled him close, Castiel knew that somehow, everything would be okay.

After they both cleaned up, they got back into bed for a few hours of sleep. Neither of them dressed. Dean’s last thoughts as he drifted off were surprisingly free of fear and uncertainty, instead, a warm, relieving wash of joy. Whatever happened tomorrow, he and Castiel would face it side by side. And maybe, if they both survived, they could spend a lot more time together while awake.

[wuxian-vs-wangji]

Hello. You said before that you wrote a supernatural fanfic that you lost? I was just wondering if you could say what it was about (if you want to, I don't want to be a bother)? I read some of your other fics and while I don't understand a lot because I'm not in those fandoms I feel like you would have a better end of Supernatural than whatever that was we just got (If you've heard about that). Sorry for long ask, thank you if you answer or if you don't!

Oh, I’ve heard about it, LMAO! 

I used to be deep in the SPN fandom on tumblr. Went to a con, met Jared, Jensen, Misha, Jim (got a photo with all 4 of them!), Kim, Rachel, Richard, Matt, and even met Genevieve in passing! Oh, and the guy who played Dick the Leviathan. I totally blank on his name. I think I bailed around season... 8 or 9? 

Kind of rage-quit after they killed off Kevin. At that point they’d just done too much of that crap in a single season and it was pretty obvious they’d lost any semblance of care for the writing, so I bailed.

I’m fine talking about the plot of my fic. When I’d had time to process the shock of losing more than 200 pages of writing *sobs* I posted a summary of how it was supposed to go for my readers. When I do that it’s my way of saying “I quit forever”.

I’ll put the main answer below the cut, since it’ll probably end up being long. My fic was in the form of an entire season of SPN, one 45-47 page chapter per “episode”, so it’s a bit to summarize...

The story took place at some indeterminate point after Season 6. It was written to be independent of the Leviathan Storyline, but really could fit in just about anywhere. I think I’d used details from the season where Sam Carter from SG1/SGA was an evil angel lady, but also it was heavily anchored in Seasons 1-6.

It started with mass destruction in this one town. In the middle of the crater something ragged and uncontrolled and evil appeared. Seriously- destruction was the core of it all. Pure, raw, uncontained power lashing out at everything.

And then the creature at the center of the swarm starts to walk away, leaving a path of destruction behind it.

After a chapter or two of monster-of-the-week type stuff, Sam and Dean started hearing whispers of this thing. Like it was circling them. Through Cas they find out that Heaven is on edge- something has escaped from the deepest, darkest corners of Heaven’s Prison (Dean makes a comment about how hell is supposed to be heaven’s prison, but Cas explains that there are some things too horrible to be sent to hell, away from the watchful guard of angels).

My favorite chapter of anything I’ve ever written opened with people shopping in a store in some small town, kind of a boutique store, and there is a sudden violent quake, everything goes pitch black, then kind of orange. They hear strange noises and long story short Hell is basically growing unstable, collapsing on itself, and this store just randomly fell into Hell. With all the dicking around on the surface with the apocalypse and Leviathans and whatever the fuck else, reality is essentially collapsing in on itself. Heaven, Hell, Purgatory, and the mortal world are all colliding.

Sam and Dean are trying to figure out why this store just kind of vanished (the authorities say sinkhole but it’s basically a crater where this thing once stood) when Sam collapses.

Dean gets him to the hospital and is suddenly dizzy. He turns and finds himself trapped in his own mind, where the thing circling them appears. It needs something from Hell, Dean needs to save the humans, and neither can complete their goal without the other.

The woman (it is all in black and appears to have no face, but speaks with a female voice) has ripped a piece of Sam’s soul away. He is trapped in horrific agony and the woman will leave him there forever if Dean doesn’t help her.

She manages to open a path between this world and hell and Dean goes back to hell with her.

When they return (somewhat victorious but it’s very gory and a lot of people died), Dean has no idea what it is she’s taken. But also where there was once swirling black mist under the hood of her cloak, there is a face rotted, ripped, and destroyed.

Adventures, Adventures, Adventures

The boys cross paths with the woman again. She’s stronger now and her face is looking more human-esque. Castiel is also extremely agitated as he learns about this woman and all he’ll tell Dean is that he needs to kill her on sight. Castiel gives Dean one of the angelic blades for protection (Cas was with them for a lot of the story but I can’t remember what I had him doing). 

Dean comes across this thing again, it is standing over Sam as he screams and writhes and so he stabs it with the angelic blade- the thing that should kill anything.

It doesn’t do shit.

Adventure, drama and whatnot later (around what would be episode 19) the story comes out in fits and bursts:

Once upon a time, in the 1600s, Zachariah decided to make an apocalyptic safety net. He manipulated events to bring together a Campbell and Winchester line (implied Sam and Dean are descended from siblings of these two). The couple had two children- Elizabeth (older) and Matthew (younger).

Two powerful demon hunting families were outcasts in their village. They were forced to live far from the main settlement, and one day the villagers went all witch-hunt-ie and burned the parents alive. Elizabeth and Matthew (only a small child) were left alone.

One winter, as Matthew was dying and Elizabeth- barely alive herself- was hunting in the forest, she came across a young native American man. It was love at first sight. She collapses and he follows her tracks to carry her back to her hovel. When she comes to he’s built a fire, prepared some food (Elizabeth was a shit hunter, couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn from 3 feet away), and has also given Matthew some herbs that help break his fever.

Elizabeth and the young man (I can’t remember what name i gave him) fell deeper in love over that winter. But right when she starts to think things are getting better, the villagers are incensed. They attack, and make Elizabeth watch as they burn Matthew and her love. At this point Matthew is like 6, so, you know, truamatic.

Elizabeth is deemed a feeble-minded woman and kind of thrown aside. That night she goes on a rampage and murders a lot of the villagers in their beds before they catch her and hang her.

But that wasn’t the end of Elizabeth Winchester’s story. It was the beginning.

Elizabeth was a safety net for the apocalypse. Her soul should have gone to Hell for what she did, but instead Zachariah dragged her up into Heaven’s Prison. There, Zachariah tortured Elizabeth for 400 years (which is idk in heaven-time, there is a whole segment of the fandom who analyzes the time in heaven/hell vs on earth).

She became, essentially, a demon made by Heaven itself. They were trying to get her to say ‘yes’ to Michael. That way, if Dean proved to be a turd (spoiler alert: the biggest turd), heaven could resurrect Elizabeth and Michael has a backup. One of the main tortures Zachariah employed was literally strapping angelic grace to her. Demons on Earth are burned up when they catch a glimpse of Grace, but in Heaven she couldn’t even die, so it both drove her overwhelmingly insane and also made her incredibly powerful.

After Zachariah’s death she was forgotten, and left in her cage with that grace burning her soul for years.

Bobby, Jo, Ellen, etc. canonically wander through heaven at-will, evading angels when needed. They were the ones who found their way into the prison and brought her out, but too quickly lost control of her and she returned to the world of the living herself.

A demon with the grace of an archangel.

Bobby, Jo, Ellen, etc. made a pact with her- they let her go, she enters the Cage and destroys both Lucifer AND Michael.

What appeared to be Elizabeth torturing Sam (it kinda was- she’s half demon remember) was also a sort of act of kindness. Sam’s soul was still lashed to The Cage. It was covered in the markings of that place, and when he died it would suck his soul back in. Elizabeth was removing those marks- essentially skinning Sam’s soul and applying those pieces to herself to give her access to the Cage. Taking Dean with her to Hell was also so she could get something that would help her in the Cage.

As they are preparing for her to rip apart the rest of the marks on Sam’s soul (which may kill him), Heaven is trying to intervene to stop her (because Team Michael and they want the apocalypse back on track). They send an archangel to stop her--

The young man she’d fallen in love with back when she was human.

It turns out the man was an angel all along- he played her and arranged his own horrible end (and that of her brother) to push her over the edge. They needed a pure soul with a bit of demonic power to maybe give Elizabeth an edge as a vessel for Michael.

She rips the grace out of the angel. Zachariah’s torture- constantly strapping her to a grace and ripping it away taught her how. It is the most agonizing and horrific end to an angel possible, her act of vengeance.

Eventually Elizabeth would make it to Hell, rip Michael’s grace from Adam, and the Cage would seal behind her after she sent Adam back up. There was going to be a sequel (second season) in which Elizabeth returns.

Her relationship with Sam and Dean in “season 1″ was very contentious and kind of frenemy-esque (think Meg at times). “Season 2″ was going to be more about her just not knowing what to do now. She can’t trust heaven or hell, so she kind of ends up lost and following the Winchesters on their hunts without them noticing her at first or being able to speak to her (like she only shows up sometimes and then vanishes again).

“Season 2″ wasn’t really planned out, but by the end of it they’d have found out Chuck was God. As a sort of apology/ way to get them to stop constantly resurrecting people in the goddamn show/ reward Elizabeth’s soul was “healed” of it’s demonic edge, the Grace would fully anchor (making her an archangel), and she would be given a new realm of death to rule over- one for hunters or supernatural creatures who had been resurrected or in some way used by Heaven or Hell to spend their afterlife at peace.

No chance of resurrection, no matter the spell, and no interference even by other archangels. The hunters dicking around with the paths through heaven would be sent there too (for their protection, the angels in heaven were starting to hunt them in return).

I feel like I’m missing details, I somewhat repress my memories of this fic because losing it was that traumatic, but yeah. That was the general thrust of it.

[dirtysupernaturalimagines]

Glarea et Mel

Pairing: Castiel/Blind!Reader Summary: A crossroads demon offers to restore the reader’s sight. The reader doesn’t want it back - mostly because of Cas. Author: J.S. Reader Gender: Not specified Word Count: 3495 Warnings: No smut, just fluff; cursing and foul language; canon-typical violence

“I could give you back your sight. The whole world, right there, whenever you open your eyes.”

You scoff. “Seriously? Why is that always the first thing you people offer?”

The first time you met Castiel, the boys barely prevented you from stabbing him.

It had been a long week, full to the brim with demon nests. It seemed as though every time you and the Winchesters took one down, another one would spring up in another seedy warehouse, bar, or strip club in the next town over. “Like a demonic game of Whack-a-Mole,” as Dean put it.

You couldn’t rely on the telltale black eyes, of course, but there were other ways of telling when there were demons afoot. They smelled faintly of rotten eggs, for one. Beyond that, though, creatures from Hell exuded a certain energy, the sort that made the hair on the back of your neck stand up. As a hunter, and a blind hunter, no less, you’d learned to trust the heebie-jeebies. It got to the point, that week, where every time the energy in the room shifted, you had one hand on your cane, ready to swing, and the other on your knife, ready to knife. 

So when what should have been a perfectly safe motel room suddenly felt like the middle of a thunderstorm, the air around you practically crackling, you whipped into action. Before you could get very far, though, you felt Sam grab your wrist.

“Hey, hey, chill, Y/N. We know him. This is Cas, the one Dean won’t shut up about.”

“You sure?” you asked. “I mean, not that I’m doubting you, but we’ve spent the whole week dealing with possessed people. You may know him, but do you know whoever’s in him?”

“I imagine,” said a voice made of gravel and honey, presumably whoever just appeared in your motel room, “that it would be very difficult for a demon to possess an angel.”

You froze. “A… Dean. Sam. What the fuck? You could’ve mentioned the fact that your friend is… holy shit. What the fuck?”

The boys cackled. That was your introduction to Cas. And to angels in general. It was a lot to process.

The demon furrows its eyebrows - or really, the eyebrows of a young man in a letterman jacket. “You mean you don’t want it back?”

Laughing, you shake your head. “Not even a little bit.”

Though Castiel didn’t need to eat, being as he was an actual angel, why the fuck didn’t the boys tell you this before, he stuck around for dinnertime anyway. After all, the Winchesters had a habit of researching at the table, a habit that you had picked up in your months on the road with them, so it was easy to fold Cas into the dinner conversation.

“Can’t believe I didn’t mention the angel thing,” Dean grumbled through a mouthful of bacon cheeseburger. “Sorry, Y/N. Must be a lot.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” you responded. “I don’t even know where to start. You were so busy telling me what a goddamn angel your buddy is, you didn’t have time to point out that he’s an actual angel? Also, sorry, Cas, for talking about you like you’re not even here.”

“It doesn’t offend me,” Castiel assured you. “I am also surprised that you didn’t know. Have they told you anything about angel lore at all?”

You grinned, realizing that you and Cas were now talking about the boys like they weren’t even there. “Literally nothing, other than that angels, as vague elsewhere entities, exist. It came up in passing maybe once. Apparently I’m woefully underprepared.” This last part you said pointedly, popping a fry into your mouth as you did so.

“Can’t believe you didn’t tell Y/N, Dean,” Sam said.

“Hey! Who said it’s my responsibility to dispense angel-related information?” Dean retaliated. “If anything, it should be Cas who teaches angel lessons!”

“I only came here to inform you that I cleared the last of the demon nests in this area,” Cas said, and you couldn’t help but smile at how confused he sounded. This wasn’t the dinner you expected to be having, and apparently Cas hadn’t expected it either.

“It’s okay,” you said. “You don’t have to give me angel lessons or anything. I can just Google it.”

To prove it, you half-yelled a couple of search terms at your laptop (the microphone was never all that good) and smiled smugly as the computer read you the beginning of an article on angels in that weird, robotic, female voice it had.

“Impressive,” Castiel said. “Human technology never ceases to amaze me. Your capacity to overcome obstacles seems endless. May I ask how you lost your sight?”

“Yeah, sure. Accident when I was a kid. Fell off my bike without a helmet, popped the back of my head on the ground, and when I woke up, poof, no more vision. The guys figured it’d be a hindrance for a hunter, but I get by alright.”

“I am sure you do,” Castiel said. He paused, listening to your computer’s robot voice tell you about angels. “Although most of that information is incorrect.”

“Shit. Well, I tried.” You poked at your laptop until it stopped reading. “How much is there, exactly, that I don’t know?”

“You don’t miss it?” the demon asks, clearly grasping at straws now. “The colors? Surely you miss the colors. Your friends’ faces. I’m offering you the chance of a lifetime, here.”

The boys went out for drinks that night. Over the course of dinner, which included several complaints about the smell of Dean’s bacon cheeseburger and the boys javelining fries at each other, the four of you managed to agree that Cas should give you angel lessons after all, since there really was a lot you didn’t know.

With the curtains drawn, an angel on the couch, and the smell of dinner still lingering in the kitchenette, you settled in for your first lesson.

“Where would you like me to begin?” Cas asked, his voice cutting across the room to you like a riptide. You’d kill to have Cas read audiobooks.

“At the beginning, I guess,” you said, stretching out on the motel bed. “I’ve always heard that’s the best place to begin.”

He chuckled, and you felt your muscles tense in what would turn out to be the first in a long, long string of “fuck he’s hot” moments.

You’d been told, every time Dean got a little tipsy and thought describing his latest conquest was appropriate, what “hot” was. It was the way a girl’s hips swayed when she walked, a flip of the hair, the curve of a smirk, a pair of blue eyes.

You disagreed. It was a voice like granite and sugar decided to have a baby and a room that smelled like ozone.

“I assume you know of the biblical story of creation,” Castiel began. You sank further into the mattress and listened.

You had no way of marking how much time passed other than the flow of Castiel’s story. The list of brothers and sisters went on, and from the wistfulness in his voice, you got the sense that Heaven had once been a bigger, happier family than it had been lately. He described watching humanity rise from nothing, and it finally, finally sunk in that you were speaking to someone - something - as old as time itself.

The energy in the room shifted, intensifying about a millionfold. Your hand flew to your knife again before you paused and took stock. It didn’t feel like there was anything new in the room. Just Cas. But… more. Way more.

“Cas? What just happened?”

You felt the sigh as much as you heard it. It seemed to come from everywhere in the room, all at once, like Castiel had been duplicated and reduplicated.

“Pardon me,” he said, everywhere. “It was rude of me not to ask you first. I only thought… well, a vessel can be somewhat confining to an angel. I thought I would stretch the parts of my true form that can fit within a single room. Ordinarily the sight of any part of an angel’s true form would blind a human in an instant, but…”

Slowly, without your control, you felt a grin spread across your face, wide enough that you swore it reached your ears. You could feel Castiel’s silence. You could feel electricity crackling gently around you, although Castiel’s true form wasn’t touching you, probably for fear of weird angel magic murder.

“Cas. Castiel, do you realize how fucking cool this is?”

“I mean, yeah, sometimes I miss it. I remember colors, but only just. When I see anything in my dreams, it’s black and white.”

You swear you can feel the demon licking its lips. “Then gimme a kiss, sweetheart, and it can all be yours again.”

It became an almost-weekly affair. Cases interfered, of course, as cases were wont to do. A rougarou here and a few witches there made for an irregular schedule, but Cas popped in whenever there were a few free hours. The boys went out so Dean could hit on waitresses and Sam could roll his eyes, and you stayed in so you learn about angels and Cas could relax.

In your second lesson, you learned you could pray directly to Castiel, and you started doing so as soon as you knew you were free. It sped up the waiting period between lessons considerably.

“So,” you said one evening - you’d lost track of the number of times you two had done this, interchangeable motel rooms with interchangeable bacon cheeseburger smells. This one was after a particularly distressing run-in with a pair of vetalas who almost took a chunk out of your arm, just like so many other lessons helped you unwind after so many other hunts.

“So,” you repeated, “how much more lore is there? Not that I don’t enjoy our time together, because I do, I really do, but we’ve already covered about double the amount I know about anything else we deal with.”

“Hmm,” Cas hummed, everywhere. “There is a lot of lore between the beginning of time and the end of it, you know.”

“Shut up, you know what I meant.” Sometimes it startled you, the fact that you knew an angel well enough to tell him to shut up. Sometimes, though, it felt completely natural. Castiel was, when you got down to it, no weirder than anything else you dealt with on a daily basis. And a whole lot kinder than most of the other creatures you knew, to boot.

“I know what you meant,” Cas agreed. “You know more than enough to keep you alive. Now, I’m just telling you stories.”

You nodded. “Stories are always good. Well, stories are usually good. Can I ask you some questions tonight, though? Now that I know how to stay alive and whatnot. I’ve had a lot of questions saved up.”

His laugh came from everywhere. Your heart seized in your chest and a swarm of butterflies beat their wings against your stomach. You were used to it, by now, having spent so many evenings with Castiel, surrounded by Castiel, although he still took care never to touch you. The “fuck he’s hot” moments all blurred together into one big feeling.

Hunters had one-night stands, you knew that. Long-term relationships had always been off the table. Hooking up with supernatural, timeless, ageless, multipotent beings was almost definitely off the table. You were left with limited options.

You settled for the option where you kept quiet, let your feelings happen, and tried very hard not to accidentally pray to him. It seemed to be working so far, although you weren’t sure you’d know if it wasn’t. Castiel seemed awfully oblivious for someone who could exist everywhere at once.

“By all means, ask away,” Castiel said.

“Alright. Do you have a photographic memory for all of creation? Everything you’ve told me seems remarkably detailed.”

“I believe so,” Castiel mused. “Some periods of time are rather clearer than others, but I don’t believe I’ve forgotten anything. If I have, I don’t remember it.”

Knowing Castiel’s particular brand of humor, you giggled. “Fair enough. How do you deal with having all that bottled up in your head? I’m sure if I knew that much, that many details about all of existence, I’d explode.”

“You would,” Castiel said. “Humans are not designed to hold so much all at once. I am infinite. It doesn’t bother me. I retrieve what I need to at will.”

“Infinite,” you repeated. “Well jeez, what’s an infinite guy like you doing in a place like this with a human like me?”

“I’m not kissing you. I told you, I don’t want my sight back.”

The demon growls, clearly frustrated. Humans are obvious and dull. You’re supposed to want the obvious and dull. 

“Why not?”

You were almost proud that it came out as a joke. Despite the butterflies slamming their wings into you, despite the electricity crackling around you, you kept your voice level. What was he doing with a human like you, anyway?

“Humans are fascinating, Y/N,” Castiel said, serious enough that you could tell he missed the joke. “More so than anything else in Heaven, Hell, or Earth. You’re beautiful - fragile, too, but you never seem to notice how fragile you are, you just keep going. And the things you’ve come up with, to overcome everything working against you. It’s so…”

He trailed off. and you felt your heart pounding against your ribs. You knew the English language is messy and fuzzy and when Cas said “you” he meant all of humanity, but it felt like when he said “you” he meant you, just you. You wondered, belatedly, if he could hear you thinking all of this.

He said nothing. You prayed you were in the clear and laughed to yourself about irony.

“Well, I wouldn’t have guessed all that,” you said. “I assumed to an angel, a human would seem ordinary.”

“Not at all!” He sounded more fervent than you were used to. “Humans are extraordinary. You are extraordinary.”

You gritted your teeth. That time it really sounded like he meant you, just you. But if that was just the butterflies talking, well, you weren’t prepared to take that chance.

“Alright,” you said, neutral voice. “One more question for tonight. Can I ask why you never -”

A door slammed outside the motel. You grimaced. “Boys are back,” you said. “You should probably jam yourself back into that vessel so no one else goes blind.”

As you pushed yourself off the bed to go greet the boys, a shooting pain ran through your bitten arm. You had bandaged it up nice and tight, but stiil, vetala bites hurt. A lot. Especially when they almost took your arm off. Halfway off the bed, you grabbed at your shoulder in pain.

The electricity in the room - Castiel’s true form, you reminded yourself, how fucking cool was it that you were surrounded by an angel - buzzed closer, stronger, like a hum in your bones. The arm you were clutching got warm and tingly, like your pins and needles had been microwaved. And then, nothing. No pain.

“So fragile,” Cas murmured. “And yet you keep going.”

The electricity didn’t recede. You sat wrapped in an angel and prayed.

Cas. Does this mean…

A buzz and a thrum from around you. “It does,” he said.

Fuck.

“You stay right there,” you said aloud. “Don’t move, don’t blind anybody. I’m gonna go tell the boys to go away.”

You all but sprinted outside, half-terrified (for no good reason, you hoped) that if you didn’t come back as fast as possible, whatever moment that you two had shared would pass and you wouldn’t know.

“Sam, Dean,” you said, half out of breath when you heard their footsteps coming up the walk. “Go away. I’ll text you when it’s safe to come back.”

“You’re not safe?” Sam demanded.

“Bad choice of words. I’m fine, Cas is fine, so just…” You flailed your arms around as though that would get your point across.

“O-oh,” Dean said, clicking his tongue. “No worries, Y/N. We’ll get out of your hair.”

“Thank you so, so much! I love you both!”

You all but sprinted back inside, too. Cas, as promised, was just the way you left him, half out of his vessel. Your skin crackled. You felt something soft, feather-light, brush your face before it was gone again.

“What were you going to ask me earlier?” Cas murmured, his voice reaching deep into your skin like a bassline on full blast.

“Well, it’s out the window now.” You felt a nervous laugh bubbling up in your chest. “Just wondering why you never touched me in your true form. Like, if I would burn to death or something.”

He stood up - you heard the couch creak - and walked over to you. It was odd, feeling his true form and his vessel, which you thought of as Cas as well, both in such close proximity to you.

“I was scared,” he murmured, “of what might happen if I did.”

“Why. Not,” the demon demands again, when you refuse to answer, doing nothing but smile.

You incline your head, listening to a faint rustling just past the demon’s shoulder, and grin wider.

“Don’t ask me. Ask him.”

“And what did you think would happen?” You were hardly breathing, then, feeling like this elaborate illusion - because it had to be an illusion, didn’t it? - would shatter in a sigh.

“I… I didn’t know,” Cas said. “Humans have always drawn my curiosity, but never like this. Perhaps it is that I can be… more myself, in your presence. I have never been able to stretch my wings like this. You intrigue me, as I said before. You are extraordinary.”

You swallowed. “And that’s why you couldn’t -”

“That’s why I couldn’t. Not even with my vessel. Not if you didn’t feel -”

“But I do,” you said, almost too hurriedly. “I, gosh, how long has it been? Since the day we met, even. Which is why I kept wondering -”

“I understand.” His laugh shook you to your core. “But we can, can’t we?”

You smiled. “I feel like we’re talking in code. Is it alright if I kiss you?”

The buzzing electricity reached a fever pitch around you. You shivered as Cas wrapped you tighter. You felt his hands - the human ones, the vessel ones, the warm, strong, soft hand - on you, one on your waist, one resting on the back of your neck.

“Please,” Castiel murmured.

The sensation was overwhelming. His lips brushed yours before pulling you in closer, deeper. The hand on your waist tightened, the electricity crackled on your skin, you felt something wrap you up, warm and gentle.

Wings, you thought.

Yes, said Castiel in your head.

May I touch them?

“Please,” he murmured, again, aloud.

You reached forward, feeling through his true form to the wings, more delicate than you expected. You ran your fingers through the feathers and smiled against Castiel’s lips as his true form shuddered around you.

Suddenly, he pulled away. “Sam and Dean. They’ll be back soon.”

“No, no, don’t worry, they won’t,” you assured him, pulling him back toward you. “I told them they couldn’t come back until I text them. We don’t have to stop ‘til you want to.”

“Good,” he growled.

Like a bassline. Like granite and sugar. Like -

The sound, the sound of an angel blade sinking into a demon’s back, never gets better. It’s always awful, but it always signals victory, too.

“You did a good job stalling,” Castiel says. “Are you hurt?”

“No, no, I’m fine,” you assure him, allowing yourself to melt into a hug. “Idiot tried to sell me my sight back.”

“And you don’t want it back? I know we’ve spoken about this, but if you change your mind, I can restore it, just -”

“Cas, look at me.” You paused. “You’re looking at me, right?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Good. Does this look like my 'I want my sight back’ face?”

Cas chuckles. You feel the sound vibrating, his chest against yours. Wings wrap around you.

“No,” Cas says. “It looks like your 'I’m a stubborn human’ face.”

“Your stubborn human.”

“My stubborn human.”

“Couldn’t’ve texted me before now?” Dean grumbled as he slammed the door of the Impala. “It’s six in the goddamn morning. Sammy and I slept in the car.”

You shrugged. “I’m sorry, guys, I really am. It’s just -”

Sam put a hand on your arm, the one Cas had healed. “We get it. We don’t want to think about it, but we get it.”

“Thank you.”

Cas was gone from the motel room when you entered it. You felt a little odd without the cocoon of an angel around you. Exposed. So you prayed.

When can I see you again?

You call me, and I will be there, he said, voice ringing in your brain.

And funny, even in your head, he still sounded just like himself.

Like gravel and honey.

[mittensmorgul]

Hope and Love and Faith

So I just watched 4.08, and I think I finally found the perfect comparison for how Jack has been influencing Cas since 12.19: Hope.

But let me take just a moment first to offer y’all up a snapshot of the inside of my head to set the stage for this. Dabb loves mirroring himself, but heck if he hasn’t seemed to love mirroring Edlund just as much. I’ve written multiple posts throughout s12 paralleling various episodes back to 4.08 and the whole concept of “the wishes turn bad.” Even Mick’s introduction to the BMoL involved him pickpocketing an ancient Babylonian coin, making his being “saved” from the streets and brought into the BMoL into a situation that clearly turned very bad for him.

We’re heavily reminded of 4.08 in 12.17 with Mick’s situation, and there are also hints of 4.08 in 12.18 in that one family’s legacy became the horror of paying Moloch in blood to keep their family’s “wish” for wealth and success alive. All of that leads directly into 12.19:

Castiel: Okay, why are you doing this? Kelly: Because he chose you, Castiel. When you put your hand on my stomach, I heard him. He spoke to me. He told me that even if it seems scary, if I just went to the gate, if I just followed your plan, that you would make sure he was born. Sam and Dean, they want to take away his powers because they're scared. (Sighs) But I'm not. Castiel: Kelly, you – Kelly: You asked me who would protect him, guide him when I'm gone. I know now. It's you.  Castiel: Me? That's I am not someone that you should put your faith in, Kelly. I couldn't kill Dagon back there. I lost two of my men. I betrayed my friends, my family.  Kelly: Before all this happened, I was a cut-rate political flack in an embarrassingly unprofessional relationship with my boss. I don't know why it's me. And I don't know why it's you. But I know that we are destined for something here. Something great. Castiel: Well, I wish I had your faith. Kelly: You will.

And:

Castiel: Thank you for coming to fight for us. Dean: Are you okay? Castiel: I am. I've been so lost. I'm not lost anymore. And I know now that this child must be born with all of his power. Sam: You can't actually mean that. Castiel: Yes. I do. I have faith. We have to go.

Cas wished for faith, and that’s what he got. But as we’ve been reminded over and over in s12, via Babylonian coins and wishes gone horribly wrong, THIS IS REALLY REALLY NOT A GOOD THING. So with that in mind, let’s revisit Hope, the first “victim” of the Babylonian wishing coin in 4.08.

WES: Oh. Oh, wow, Hope, you didn't have to do that. HOPE: I wanted to. Well, no, I... I had to. Because I love you more than anything, lover. WES: Yes. Um, Hope, sit down, okay? HOPE: Yes, Wes. WES: Um... Hope, uh, are you happy? HOPE: I love you more than anything. WES: I know. I know. And I love you. Very much. That's why I want you to start doing things that make... that made you happy before. HOPE: Yes, Wes, I'll try to be happier. I'll start right away. WES: No, no, no, that's not what I mean. I-I'm talk— HOPE: Oh, Wes, please. [Voice breaking] Please don't be angry with me. You know, I'd just die, I'd just die, I'd die! WES: No, no, no. Don't – I'm – I'm not angry. I'm not angry! No. HOPE: Then let me make it up to you, Wes. Let me make it right.

This, as we learn, is the result of Wes’s wish on that Babylonian coin. He wished for Hope to “love him more than anything.” And Hope deliberately changes her phrasing from “I wanted to,” into “I had to.” She didn’t have a choice, in other words. But would we say that this is this a form of mind control?

It’s clear that Hope is not acting of her own free will here, but is this actually mind control? Wes isn’t ordering her to do all these things for him, yet she clearly feels some sort of obligation to do them anyway, borne from this falsely implanted love for Wes. Her ability to make her own choices, i.e. her Free Will, has been rerouted via Wes’s wish. She’s clearly making choices on her own-- about cooking for Wes, about all the acts of devotion she shows him, even her “choice” to kill Sam before he can talk Wes into removing the coin from the wishing fountain to “wish away their love.”

If Hope truly had her own free will, she NEVER would’ve stopped Wes from undoing his wish.

Just like if Cas had truly had his own free will in 12.19, he never would’ve booped Sam and Dean unconscious for trying to stop him from leaving with Kelly.

To me this is just one more proof that Cas is not acting out of his own free will through the rest of s12. His wish that he had Kelly’s faith in Jack has been overriding and redirecting his free will through the falsely-implanted filter, just as Hope’s falsely-implanted “love” for Wes did in 4.08.

While I was typing all of this out at Lizbob earlier today, she was busy typing 2.13 at me, and I couldn’t help but make this comparison as well. 2.13, intentionally or not, set up a LOT of background for all the eventual Angel Lore in canon, and I feel this is also an important callback, especially as it also has to do with faith, hope, and love:

SAM: Yeah. So, Hope, uh, tell us how you two lovebirds met. HOPE: Oh, best day of my life. DEAN: I bet. HOPE: Yeah! It's the funniest thing. We both grew up here, but I never really knew who he was. Not by name anyway. Until one day last month, it was like I just [sighs] I just saw him for the first time. He was just... glowing. Oh, just glowing.

He was glowing, like the false angel “signs” in 2.13. A brilliant light appeared to people, presented itself as an angel, and instructed them to murder people. They were all convinced they’d acted in the name of God, and were completely at peace with their actions because of the “angel” absolving them of their “sin.”

DEAN: So. What makes you think you saw a, uh, angel? SAM: It just, it appeared before me and I just, this feeling washed over me, you know? Like, like peace. Like grace. DEAN: Okay, Ecstasy Boy, maybe we'll get you some glow sticks and a nice Dr. Seuss hat, huh? SAM: Dean, I'm serious. It spoke to me, it knew who I was. DEAN: It's just a spirit, Sam. Okay? And it's not the first one to be able to read people's minds. Okay, let me guess. You were personally chosen to smite some sinner. You've just got to wait for some divine bat signal, is that it? SAM: Yeah, actually.

Then a few scenes later:

SAM laughs, then stops in shock, staring at something across the street: a young man holding a bunch of flowers; a bright white light glows behind him.

Sam had his sign. Dean stopped Sam from carrying out the mission the “angel” had given him, but everything the “angel” had wanted still came to pass, just as effectively as if Sam had killed the man himself. Dean could hardly believe what he’d witnessed. The description from the transcript:

Car chase scene. Chasing the evil young man at a more frantic rate now, DEAN grips the steering wheel tightly. They cut across lanes, over grass, and generally cause mayhem; at a cross-street, a small pickup truck carrying long metal pipes screeches to a halt in front of the man's car. A pipe spins off the truck bed, bouncing once on the ground and plowing straight through his windshield. It impales him straight through the chest. DEAN stops the car in shock and gets out. DEAN: Holy . . .

And then:

DEAN:  But I'll tell you one thing. If . . . The way he died, if I hadn't seen it with my own two eyes I never would have believed it. I mean ... I don't know what to call it. SAM: What? Dean, what did you see? DEAN: Maybe . . . God's will.

Back to 4.08:

DEAN: Come on. You're gonna sit there and tell me that your relationship with Hope is functional, that it's what you wished for? WES: I wished she would love me more than anything. SAM: Yeah, and, uh, how is that going? That seem healthy to you? WES: Well, it's a hell of a lot better than when she didn't know I was alive. DEAN: You're not supposed to get what you want, man, not like this. Nobody is. That's what the coin does. It takes your heart's desires and it twists it back on you. You hear of the whole, uh, "be careful what you wish for"?

Because Hope professed that she loved Wes “more than anything,” even more than her own life, even more than knowing the difference between right and wrong.

She didn’t understand how her feelings had been manipulated, or falsely implanted by Wes’s wish. Like the people who believed they were acting on behalf of an angel of Heaven back in 2.13, and like Cas (and even Kelly) have been acting since 12.19. It all feels real to them. They can’t act of their own free will, because they’re incapable of even accessing it while under Jack’s influence.

It’s not that he’s directly puppeting them or controlling their actions, but that he’s inserted himself and his needs as the overriding default priority for both Kelly and Cas. They both fully believed they were CHOOSING their course of action, but Dean clearly told us that he knew Cas was fundamentally unable to think for himself here.

In 12.20:

DEAN: Okay, so last night...that Super Mario power-up crap? That wasn't Cas. That freaking baby isn't even born yet and it sock puppeted him. Think about it. Cas said that he had faith in Lucifer Jr.? What the hell is that supposed to mean? SAM: I don't know. I mean, look, this doesn't make any sense to me either, Dean. But if we wanna have some shot at finding Cas, the we have to...I don’t know. Uh, try and think like him. DEAN: How? Seriously I mean up until now if Cas messed up, if he did something wrong, but he thought it was for the right reasons, I got it. Right? But last night, when I looked at him, I did not recognize the guy staring back at me.

And honestly, that’s proof enough for me.

But if you need further proof of the connection, please see this post about Kelly’s wall mural she was painting in 12.23:

http://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/post/160984386600/margarittet-tinkdw

The symbol on the tree trunk? Hope, love, and faith.