#and in erasing that hurt Cas did

[wellofdean]

Sorry ,for me personally, it has to be out loud acknowledge to even remotely make up for how badly they treated fans over the years, the out loud queerbaiting in one breath and mocking in the next. The in text gay jokes, sexism and homophobia. The digs at their own fans.

They want the credit without having to do it. Again. They want the pat on the back they need to earn it this time.

Years of baiting for views and profit needs a payoff imo. Sorry people downplaying how important the canonization of this ship in particular is just hurts to see over and over. Stop letting them off the hook please. You deserve more. We all do.

It’s important. It does matter.

The cas/destiel hope baiting continued with the Winchesters and that’s why I’m at a put up or shut up moment with Jensen and the writers. He and Danneel kept the hype up every week that the show was airing all the while knowing cas doesn’t even get a name drop. He’s not even hinted at. Mary/john paralleled destiel so many times yet refused to call it want it was.

They could have shut it down week one, they interacted on tweeter a lot during airing and knew what fans thought there was going to be an acknowledgment or hint that never happened. They are smart people, they saw the speculation and hype but didn’t step in with a gentle ‘sorry guys this is about the new crew’ they fanned the hope instead with ‘something big happens’ that was just dean meeting the new team.

Loved the Winchesters as a show, sad it got dropped cause I loved the new cast so much. That said the baiting hurt and wasn’t necessary, the show was good.

Everyone is looking back with rose colored glasses and rewriting history. But things were ugly with the spn team/cast/writers at times. The homophobia was pretty out loud in a way it was allowed to be in the early 00s. They’ve grown and that’s wonderful but it still happened.

They need to earn the praise they want imo. No hate! Glad you are happy! just feels a little unfair to say we should all let them off the hook again and be happy with nothing while praising the benevolent straights. Just my two cents 😅💚💙

I want to answer this sympathetically, because I know it's disappointing that no one has been willing to just say "Dean and Cas are gay for each other" out loud, and I don't think there are many people in this fandom who picked up what the narrative was putting down, and were not disappointed in the finale for LOADS of reasons, only one of them being that Dean never had the chance to acknowledge what Cas said to him. I understand your feelings, my anonymous friend, I really do. I too found the end of Supernatural deeply frustrating, because they managed to erase the meaningful journeys of every single character, not just Dean, though what they did with Dean was the worst. I completely understand wanting them to JUST FUCKING SAY IT. I do. I get you. I simply do not agree.

My argument, which I have made many, many times, is that what you want is THERE in the narrative. They made Cas Dean's ride or die, they made it obvious that Dean can't carry on without Cas -- that the loss of Cas means Dean loses his will to live. That was explicit. They made it clear that more than anyone else, EVEN Sam, Cas is essential to him. They structured the narrative around Dean and Cas's emotional beats. They let Cas say the obvious thing out loud, and then showed us Dean behaving exactly as Dean would in a situation like that -- in the midst of his existential crisis about who he is and whether he has ever had free will, and with the world falling around them -- they showed us Dean unable to speak, unable to respond but overwhelmed with emotion. Like, remember that when Mary died when Dean was four, he was unable to speak? Is it really so hard to imagine that he loves Cas with all his heart? To read love in Dean's watery eyes, and the way he chokes down his heart and begs Cas not to do this? Not to being saying goodbye? I mean... I CAN DO THAT MATH. Literally everything about the story supports it. IT IS THERE.

Fandom always argues: if Cas were a woman, we wouldn't have any questions, so what I am just wondering is, why do we have questions again? Is it because we (homophobically) can't just see it for what it is because it's gay? Because, when it's gay we lose our ability to interpret narrative, and we need to be told, like we are 5 years old, what's happening in a perfectly obvious story? Or, is it a skill issue? Is it because we need the creators of the story to affirm our interpretation? We need the actors to just TELL US what they meant when they did that thing with their faces? Do we need their permission to understand it for what it is?

I've said many times that calling what happened on Supernatural 'queerbaiting' because no one ever made out or fucked on the maps table is really offensive to me actually. Don't you know that there are queer people in this world who never get to live their truths? Who just ache and yearn and want, and never get to have? Like, that there are in fact queer people who are afraid to say what they feel, or who don't understand or embrace who they really are and what they really need until it's too late? Are those not QUEER EXPERIENCES? I love Dean and I love that story because it's queer as hell and it makes ME feel seen, because I am like him! I am a queer person of his age who didn't ask myself those questions seriously enough in time! My own queerness is very fucking real, and it is UNLIVED. That HAPPENS to actual queer humans, and like, it's not queerbaiting when it's just queer, but didn't tell you the queer story YOU wanted it to tell. You saw years of tease? I saw years of choices, and love, and accretion of deep wells of emotion. I saw a clear romance, and a character becoming. It was a story I needed, AS A QUEER PERSON.

And the Winchesters was just joyful if you went in with that understanding of the previous story. It was like getting an A+ in Supernatural week after week from Dean himself. I can accept that the stars didn't align for Cas/Misha to come back in the first season, accept that if he were coming back, it needed to be more than a cameo to make it right, and that it didn't work out. I am so sad it was cancelled, but I can accept that it was leading someplace it didn't get to go. That's not queerbaiting, either! It's telling a story that was aborted, and I think if you don't see that, then that is DEFINITELY a skill issue.

I'm not looking back with rose coloured glasses; Supernatural is fresh in my mind. I watched it again without the internal pressure of expectations that aren't going to be met, and let it tell me what it was really doing all along. I am happy. It's a really compelling, deeply romantic, deeply queer story. I don't need permission from anyone involved to think that, and I don't need it explained to me. I understand wanting it to just be fully explicit, but I would not trade the story it did tell for a simpler, less engaging one, that asked less of me. I love it very much AS IT IS.

And, please: point me to this fabled abuse of fans. I have never really seen an example of it that is not easily debunked with a little bit of context.

[scoobydoodean]

so the mind wipe was a bad move in context, i think most people will agree with that (i agree with you that it was the worst thing dean did). but beyond that, it barely even makes sense logistically unless you extrapolate that cas removed every piece of evidence of dean from their lives, phones, house, and friends’/neighbors’ memories… so how do you think they should’ve handled lisa and ben’s exit?

Setting aside how unfeasible it seems to truly erase Dean from their lives, it also just doesn't make sense to me because I don't understand how or why that would ever stop people from using them to hurt Dean. Like I guess they make it in the show as if it did in fact work (and it's better than the alternative the show likely would have come up with of killing them off) but why on earth would someone like Crowley for example not use Lisa and Ben still to hurt Dean just because they don't remember him??? They don't have to remember him for them to be used against him??

Like from Dean's perspective though, I think it was was about erasing the "poison". Like he felt he was this monster whose presence had ruined their lives irreparably, and by erasing himself from their lives as if he never existed, he could erase the "ruinous" impact he had on them. I think one of the biggest catalysts for this is ultimately having to put a gun in Ben's hand. When Ben expressed interest in Dean's gun collection in 6.02, Dean swore that Ben would never shoot a gun. Dean appears to have a lot of trauma tied up in his childhood experience with firearms. Lots of American kids grow up shooting, but for sport at targets and usually starting with BB guns. Dean was taken shooting (presumably real guns) for the first time when he was "six or seven" years old (2.06) and when he was taken to do that, he knew he was being trained to become a killer—to hunt monsters and to defend his brother—and John was proud. Dean repeats the story to Jo fondly (because what Jo wanted was a fond story—and Dean really struggles to deliver one because of what he's going through at the time), but there's something melancholic too, and this moment in 6.02 puts that in context, as does 3.10 where Dean expresses all the pent up hurt he feels at being treated as a solider and a weapon by his father, as does 1.18 where Dean is no older than 10 and left alone with Sam for days with a shotgun to defend them both. There's fear that has to be buried there and experiences with violence or the threat of it that Dean simply wasn't psychologically equipped to deal with. Most(arguably all) adults aren't equipped to handle that kind of stress and he was a child. So having to put a gun in Ben's hand so he could aid in defending his own mother was the greatest betrayal toward Ben's right to be a child that Dean could imagine and he HAD to erase it because he couldn't deal with the idea of Ben holding onto even a tenth of the childhood trauma that Dean has.

At the same time, Dean is so caught up in self-hatred and the idea of himself as a ruinous force that he loses track of boundaries and that it isn't his right to decide. And one of the repeated things echoed by Lisa and Ben that Dean never really allows himself to absorb is that they truly loved him and they didn't want to trade the experience of loving him despite the hardships. Lisa was very clear about this in 6.01 and 6.02, and so was Ben in 6.14 (though I don't think he understands all the dynamics in play no matter how much he insists he did).

I don't have a real opinion on anything that should have been done instead. It isn't something I would change just because I don't think Dean made a morally right choice but it is true that it doesn’t make much logical sense. From a practical safety perspective, I think it would have made more sense and been pretty interesting if Dean erased his own memories of them. This would still be in theme with Sam's wall and Cas's secrets and Bobby and Sam hiding Sam being alive and how we hide things to protect ourselves or others (and isn't all the talk from Cas and Death about protecting Sam from his own traumatic memories also probably an influence on Dean's decision to erase himself from Lisa and Ben's reality?). But I think ultimately, Dean wouldn't erase his memory because he would see carrying that experience with him as a "lesson" with scars he needed to bear so he'd never let that desire for a home cloud his judgement ever again and ruin someone's "normal" life.

[supernaturalscribe67]

Destiny

Words: 7,528

POV: 3rd Person

Pairing: Gabriel x Male!Winchester!Reader

Warning(s): Fluff, Slight Angst (if you squint), Language, Brotherly Drama/Teasing, Sexual Innuendos

Summary: (Y/N) Winchester never thought he would have to play a prominent role in the fight between Michael and Lucifer, but when Gabriel's attempt at convincing Sam and Dean to accept their destiny fails, (Y/N) is left pondering the situation at hand. What happens when Gabriel reveals the truth behind his disappearance from Heaven and his own role in the fight?

Heavily Inspired by S5.8 "Changing Channels"

Request:

Hey!! I was hoping you would be able to do this request.

It could feature hurt/comfort, angst, and fluff :)

Gabriel x Winchester!Reader

He could be trans or cis, up to you.

There was a younger Winchester brother, and with 3 full blooded Winchesters meant of course, a 3rd vessel. Gabriel's vessle. You both aren't keen on the idea of possession and end up falling for each other? Destiny had brought them together for battle but their hearts yearned for something else.

(something along those lines atleast)

:D

@genekies

A/N: I've sat here for the last ten minutes staring at the Summary because my brain is non-existent right now. Anyway, I really hope you enjoy this! Sorry it's so late! I also hope you don't mind that I changed the 'younger' Winchester to a middle Winchester~ I enjoyed writing something cute and fluffy after that heavy story I posted! Feedback is appreciated!

~ Much Love!

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“Son of a bitch.” 

“It’s him. It’s Doctor Sexy.” 

“Nutcracker!”

“I’ve got genital herpes.”

(Y/N) blamed himself for this. Why he thought any hunt he and his brothers did would be normal was beyond him. When was anything the Winchesters did ever normal?

He could count on one hand the number of times he’d encountered tricksters, none of them pleasant. Still, something about this trickster was different. Slight abnormalities in the realm of possibilities, Sam, Dean, and Castiel all agreed, Castiel seeming to know more than them, but unable to voice his thoughts before being whisked away by said ‘trickster’. From there, the Winchester brothers were tossed from TV show to TV show, enduring humiliation and awkward conversation. It wasn’t until Sam was transformed into the Impala that it clicked. 

It wasn’t a trickster. It was an angel. 

That was how they ended up in an abandoned warehouse, the angel stood in the center of a ring of Holy Fire. (Y/N) tried to hide the exhaustion on his face that resulted from their hectic escapades. What he would kill to go back to their motel, crawl under the scratchy covers, and go to sleep. 

“Where’s you get the Holy Oil?” The angel asked, a small smirk playing on the corner of his lips. 

“Well, I guess you could say we pulled it out of Sam’s ass,” Dean replied, straight-faced. 

Sam clenched his jaw and sent a death glare towards him. (Y/N) snickered, earning him the same glare. He pressed his lips together, mumbled a faint ‘sorry’ under his breath, and turned his attention back towards the wannabe trickster. 

The smirk he had vanished. “Where’d I screw up?” He asked. 

“You didn’t,” Sam shook his head. “Nobody gets a jump on Cas like you did.” 

“It was the way you talked about Armageddon,” Dean explained. 

“Meaning?” The angel furrowed his brows. 

“Well, call it personal experience, but nobody gets that angry unless they’re talking about their own family.” 

The angel looked away and lowered his head, a silent confirmation of their suspicions. 

“So, which one are you?” Sam cocked his head to the side. “Grumpy, Sneezy, or Douchey?” 

(Y/N) bit the inside of his cheeks, lowering his head to hide the small smile that appeared. Despite the gravity of the situation, he had to admit that Sam’s question was a little funny. He blamed it on him being tired. He was quick to erase the expression off his face before lifting his head. The angel’s gaze shifted over to Sam, and he hesitated for a moment.

“Gabriel, okay? They call me Gabriel.” 

“The archangel?” Sam asked. 

“Guilty.” 

“Okay, Gabriel. How does an archangel become a trickster?” Dean questioned. 

Gabriel shifted. “I consider it my own, private Witness Protection. I skipped out of Heaven, got a face transplant, and carved out my own little corner of the world. Until you three screwed it up,” his tone was full of irritation. 

(Y/N), Sam, and Dean shared a glance, almost as if communicating telepathically with one another - something they had become accustomed to growing up. While they knew significant details about the conflict between the archangels Michael and Lucifer, it seemed, to them, that the situation ran a lot deeper than it originally appeared. 

“So, boys, now what?” Gabriel’s voice broke them out of their trance. “Are we just going to stare at each other for the rest of eternity?” 

Dean licked his lips. ‘Well, first of all, you’re going to bring Cas back from wherever you stashed him.” 

“Oh, am I?”

“Yeah, or we’re going to dunk you in some Holy Oil and deep-fry ourselves an archangel.” 

Gabriel clenched his jaw, looking over at Sam, then at (Y/N). All of them shared the same serious expression. Poking his tongue into his cheek, he raised a hand and snapped his fingers. Shuffling could be heard behind the trio as they turned their heads to see a disheveled Castiel. His hair was more ruffled than usual, and a small cut ran across the bridge of his nose. Blood was splattered on the collar of his trenchcoat. He stumbled slightly. 

“Cas, you okay?” (Y/N) asked. 

“I’m fine,” Castiel replied, his icy gaze locked on Gabriel. “Hello, Gabriel.” 

Gabriel lowered his hand, crossed his arms over his chest, and smiled tightly. “Hey, bro. How’s the search for Daddy going? Let me guess. Awful,” Gabriel’s tone was harsh. 

The tension was so thick, you could cut it with a knife. It was obvious that there was more going on in Heaven than the Winchesters were led to believe. Multiple sides mean multiple stories. Who knows what really happened? 

“Alright, let’s get out of here. Sam, (Y/N)?” Dean slowly started to step towards the exit. 

Sam was the first to move, while (Y/N) seemed hesitant. In the end, he, too, turned his back on Gabriel and made his way towards his brothers. Castiel soon followed. 

“No,” Gabriel muttered. “Okay…hey, guys, so…” he stumbled over his words. “So what, huh? You’re just, you’re just gonna leave me here forever?” 

When the group reached the door, they all turned back to him. 

“No,” Dean began. “We’re not, because we don’t screw with people the way you do. And, for the record, this isn’t about some prize fight between your brothers or some destiny that can’t be stopped. This is about you being too afraid to stand up to your family.” 

Gabriel opened his mouth, as if to object, but stopped himself. He lowered his head in shame, turning his back to them. Wordlessly, Dean looked back, spotting a fire alarm on the wall. He easily broke the glass surrounding the alarm and pulled the handle. A shrill, faded sound echoed within the broken building. As Gabriel looked up, the aged sprinkler system burst open, showering him with cold water. Gabriel gazed at them, his face filled with defeat. 

“Don’t say I’ve never done anything for you,” Dean called out over the sound of the alarm. 

With that, Sam, Dean, and Castiel turned their backs one last time on Gabriel, walking out of the building. (Y/N), however, stayed put, his eyes locked onto Gabriel’s. He studied the look of hurt on his face, and (Y/N) couldn’t help but feel a slight pang of guilt. A part of him wanted to say something, to turn around and provide him with some type of comfort. They didn’t know what Gabriel was going through, nor what had caused him to leave Heaven in the first place. Perhaps, all he needed was someone to be there. To allow him to be heard. (Y/N) could relate to that feeling. Alas, as the ring of Holy Fire began to dissipate, over the blaring sound of the alarm, he could hear the faint shout of his older brother calling out his name. (Y/N) looked at the warehouse door, the breeze from the early morning shifting his wetting hair, then back to Gabriel. For a moment, he cast an apologetic look his way before he, swiftly, left the building. 

*~*

A couple of weeks after the incident with Gabriel, (Y/N) couldn’t seem to keep his thoughts at bay. Although his brothers had all since left the interaction behind them, refocusing their attention on their odd hunting jobs, (Y/N) couldn’t shake the reminder of the expression on Gabriel’s face. He had taken the time to carefully consider what Gabriel had been going through, or what he had been through before he had left Heaven. Sure, he wasn’t aware of the extent of it all, but he could sure sympathize with how it felt to be stuck between his brothers during their spats. Sam and Dean never threatened the sanctity of Heaven over their problems, but still. 

(Y/N) had taken many walks since then, because sleep had been so easily unobtainable. On nights when Sam and Dean slept soundly on their motel room beds - or couch, depending on who lost in the coin toss - (Y/N) would slink out of the room into the night. Alternatively, in the morning, if sleep didn’t come after the first walk, he would go on another, ultimately stopping for breakfast on his way back to the motel to appease his brothers. 

Sam and Dean were none the wiser. 

On those walks, his mind would always shift to Gabriel and the predicament he was in. In a way, he disagreed with what Dean had said to Gabriel. But, with everything that was said by Gabriel, himself, he partially agreed with it as well. Why was Gabriel so adamant about Sam and Dean allowing Lucifer and Michael to take possession of them for a fight that he wasn’t even willing to fight himself? He felt so in the dark about the whole debacle. Although he wasn’t directly involved in it, he was still interested to know what the fate of his brothers could be. It was thoughts and questions like those that kept his mind racing in the early hours of the morning, making him unable to get an adequate amount of sleep. 

That night was no different. The three of them had traveled to a town along the East Coast, following the clues of a possible Wendigo. The case had just started, and the interviews and clues left much to be desired. They weren’t even close to pinpointing the approximate area in the nearby woodland where it could reside. Sam and Dean were running thin, and (Y/N) was no help. Not with the way his mind had been racing lately. It wasn’t like he could help it, though. He tried, he did, and a part of him couldn’t see how Sam and Dean were able to concentrate whilst everything was going on in Heaven. He had always envied them for their sense of focus, something he lacked greatly at times. When he started the walks, clearing his mind was his initial goal, but going out on his own, in the dead of night, only seemed to make his thoughts louder. 

The town was small, and barely had much of a park, just some cheap playground equipment that looked as if it needed to be updated and a small trail. (Y/N) was thankful for the benches that were laid along the path. Despite the park’s size, it had a beautiful view; a full panoramic of the deep, dark ocean past craggy cliffs, cut off by a steel fence. The ocean was loud and, despite the distance from the land to the sea, mist sprayed (Y/N)’s face faintly, painting his features with minuscule water droplets. He had worn a jacket that night. Even though it was surprisingly hot during the day, as soon as the sun dropped, the temperatures did as well. 

(Y/N) had been sat on the bench for close to an hour. If he had to guess, it was nearly midnight. Not once had he been able to keep Gabriel out of his mind. Gabriel, the fight, Sam, and Dean, all took turns at the forefront of his brain, but Gabriel won most of the time. He always drifted to the sad, kicked puppy-dog look he had before he left. He couldn’t imagine what Gabriel had to go through. (Y/N) thought Sam and Dean were impossible to be with all the time, but he couldn’t fathom being near Michael and Lucifer as much as Gabriel must have. He must have been quite burnt out. 

“Do you mind if I sit here?” A voice jerked (Y/N) from his train of thought. 

(Y/N) jumped, eyes wide as he looked towards the direction of the voice. Stood, about a foot away from the bench, was Gabriel. His expression was soft, his brown hair partially damp, the locks illuminated slightly by the nearby street lamp. Once his heart rate began to return to normal, (Y/N) nodded and gestured towards the empty seat next to him. 

“Sure,” he mumbled. 

With a short nod, Gabriel shuffled over and sat down, leaning against the back of the bench. His legs were slightly spread and his hands were clasped together in his lap. For a moment, the two of them sat in silence, listening to the sound of the crashing waves from below. Even though Gabriel had done so much to the Winchesters as a part of his trickster ‘Witness Protection’, (Y/N) didn’t feel any resentment towards him, nor did he feel agitation, even with his proximity. A part of him thought he should be, that was how Dean would react, at least. Shouldn’t he be at least a little bit pissed? Perhaps it was the weeks of thinking, working the idea into his head that he and Gabriel could, potentially, have more in common than he originally thought. It could be that he was more forgiving than his brother. In the end, (Y/N) chalked it up to him being a great judge of character. 

“How did you find me?” (Y/N) broke the silence. 

“What?” Gabriel asked. 

“How did you find me? These symbols, or whatever, Cas put on my ribs were supposed to stop angels from being able to find me. Or did he just tattoo my ribs for nothing?” 

Gabriel let out a faint chuckle and shook his head. “I admit, you were hard to find. All I did, though, was follow the sound of your prayers. They were quieter than most, but they were still noticeable.” 

(Y/N) looked over at Gabriel, confused. “Prayers? I didn’t pray to you.” 

“I guess not technically. I know that wasn’t your intention half the time, but, every time you thought of me, asked those questions, made those statements, it was as if you did.” 

(Y/N) pursed his lips and gave a faint nod. “I see…”

They were, once again, engulfed in silence as they stared out onto the water. No one said anything. Surprisingly, it was peaceful.

“I guess I should be asking why you found me. Why are you here, Gabriel?” (Y/N) asked. 

Gabriel hesitated for a moment, fumbling with his fingers. “Look, I’m not good at this sort of thing, but…” he trailed. “I thought I should come here and apologize. For everything.” 

(Y/N) looked over at Gabriel as he placed his hands into his jacket pockets and leaned back against the bench. “Shouldn’t you be apologizing to Sam and Dean, too?” 

Gabriel snorted. “Are you kidding? Those two would probably stab me before I even had the chance to say anything.” 

(Y/N) smirked. “I guess you’re right. The fact that you were practically hounding them to accept being Michael and Lucifer’s vessels doesn’t help your case either.” 

“Yeah, I realized that I probably went about it the wrong way.” 

“Probably?” 

“Okay, I definitely went about it the wrong way.” 

“That’s putting it lightly.” (Y/N) mumbled. “Why the fight, Gabriel? I mean, why now?” 

Gabriel shrugged his shoulders. “Michael and Luci have been going at it for centuries. Even before this fight, they were at each other’s throats half the time.” he began to rub his fingers together. “But, this fight…it wasn’t originally supposed to only be those two.” 

(Y/N) furrowed his brows. “What do you mean?” 

“Well,” Gabriel stuttered before he stood up. Slowly, he began to pace back and forth in front of (Y/N), looking between the ground and his hands. “You know what it’s like, right? Your brothers are arguing about the dumbest things and they’ve been going at it for a while, getting a little carried away, so you have to step in and, um,” 

“Be the mediator?” 

“Yeah! You have to try and calm them down so they don’t kill each other?” 

“Well, yeah, I’ve had to do that plenty of times with Sam and Dean.” 

“Right. Back then, I had to do the same thing with Michael and Luci. Sometimes it worked, and other times, not so much. With this fight, that’s what I was supposed to do.” 

“Wait, this fight that they want to use Sam and Dean for? How’re you supposed to mediate that?” 

“I was just supposed to make sure they didn’t actually kill each other. Try to get them to talk it out. I’ve always been good at that, so it would only make sense that I would take a crack at it this go around. However, since they would be at their full power in their vessels, the last thing that needed to happen was for them to turn on me, kill me, and then each other. So, to make sure I had enough power, I, also, have to have a vessel.” 

Gabriel stopped pacing in front of him and finally faced him, his hands together in front of him. (Y/N) stared at him intently, eyes narrowed in concentration. It was as if Gabriel could see the gears working in his mind. If Michael needed a vessel, which was Dean, and Lucifer needed a vessel, which was Sam, then, that meant…

(Y/N)’s eyes widened. “Am I your vessel?” He breathed. 

“Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner!” Gabriel smirked, although it wasn’t as confident as the one he had when he was covered by his trickster persona. 

(Y/N)’s mouth sat agape. He was gobsmacked. His lips moved up and down as he tried to form words, but his mind nor mouth would work. It all made sense, though. Why would Sam and Dean be the only vessels? Why had he never considered that he, too, was destined to be one? It was clear as glass, yet, the thought never crossed his mind. 

“You know, when you think about it, it kind of makes sense that you’re my vessel. I mean, you’re the mediator, I’m the mediator. You’re the middle child, I’m practically the middle child. There are, actually, a lot of similarities between you and me. So, it was a great pick,” Gabriel rambled, placing his hands on his hips.

(Y/N) help his hand up. “Gabriel, just…stop.” 

Gabriel looked down and cleared his throat. “Sorry,” he pursed his lips. 

(Y/N) sat there and attempted to wrap his head around the whole situation. His thoughts were foggy and the front of his head was starting to pound. He reached his hands up and began to massage his temples. 

“So, what you’re saying,” (Y/N) let out a breathy chuckle. “Is that you, the archangel Gabriel, are supposed to use me as a mediator for your two power-hungry brothers who, may I remind you, are also archangels?” 

Slowly, Gabriel nodded. “Basically.” 

“And you think this is a good idea?” 

“Absolutely not.” 

“What?” 

Gabriel sighed. “Look,” He returned to his spot on the bench next to (Y/N), his body now facing him. “The times when my mediation did work was when they had their smaller fights. Little bickers here and there. When Michael and Luci are really, really mad at each other, nothing can get between them. So, most likely, what would happen is I would need to get involved in the fight to stop them.” 

“Oh, God,” (Y/N) grumbled and placed his face into his hands.

“But, believe me, that is the last thing I want to do. I mean, Michael and Luci, they’re both strong on their own, but, if they were to team up against me for trying to stop them, even with you as my vessel, I don’t stand a chance. It would be two against one.” 

(Y/N) just nodded, running his hands down his face, his gaze returning to the cool, pounding waves. A chill ran down his spine. He hadn’t realized how cold he had gotten, what with the mix of wind and misty air.

“Why are you telling me this now?” He asked quietly. “Why wasn’t I told any of this before?” 

“Well, when I went off the grid, everyone just assumed that it was my way of backing out of the fight. In a way, I guess they were right.” 

“And back at the warehouse? Why didn’t you tell me then?”

“Because I still had no intention of joining the fight. However, after what Dean had said to me…” Gabriel shook his head. “I realized that he was right. I am a coward. I tried to push your brothers into accepting their roles as vessels because I want this fight to be done and over with. I just wish the fight didn’t have to happen. I figured it would be wrong if I didn’t tell you now. You deserve to know.” 

“Well, I appreciate that. And, for the record, I don’t want this fight to happen either. The last thing I want is my brothers to get involved in something that has nothing to do with them.”

“The fight’s gonna happen one way or another, and I thought getting your brothers to go along would be the best way to go about it. Once I listened to your prayers, though, I realized how it would affect you. I know you wouldn’t want to lose either one of your brothers, even though they can be assholes sometimes.” 

(Y/N) snorted. “Like you’re one to talk.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, unlike your brothers, mine can be caring and nice when they want to be.” 

“Believe it or not, Michael and Luci both have the capability of being nice! I witnessed it firsthand.” 

“Bullshit!” 

“It’s not! Granted, they were a whole lot nicer when they were fledglings, kind of got a little rocky as they got older, but they could still be nice!” 

“Wait, wait, wait, fledglings?” 

“Yeah.”

“What’re fledglings?” 

“Newborn angels.”

“So…baby angels?” 

“In a sense,” Gabriel shrugged. A mischievous smirk then appeared at the corner of his lips. “Do you want to hear some embarrassing stories about when Michael and Luci were younger?” 

“Of course I do,” (Y/N) sat back, turning his body to face Gabriel as well. 

“Okay, but, in return, you have to tell me some embarrassing stories about your brothers.”

(Y/N) bit his lip as he contemplated the offer. Finally, he smirked. “Deal.” 

For the next while, Gabriel and (Y/N) went back and forth, sharing their embarrassing stories from their abnormal families. They joked, laughed, and, overall, had a good time. Not only did it lighten the mood from the bombshell Gabriel had dropped, but it allowed them to grasp a basic understanding of their past and present lives. 

There were a few things (Y/N) learned throughout their conversation. One; Gabriel and his brothers shared some scary similarities with the Winchesters in regards to mannerisms and attitudes. Two; Gabriel could talk for a millenia if he was given the opportunity. And three; (Y/N) felt oddly calm around Gabriel. It hadn’t even struck him how easily Gabriel was able to shift the conversation as smoothly as he did. (Y/N) wasn’t too sure how he could feel that way around him. As they sat there and talked, after everything that was said, and after everything that happened with the warehouse incident - he’ll never forget the nutcracker - he couldn’t help but feel a strong sense of comfort around him. There was something about Gabriel that filled (Y/N) with a sense of peace and belonging, and he couldn’t quite put his finger on it as to why that was. 

It wasn’t like he was complaining, though. 

They talked until the moon sat near the far end of the sky. Unbeknownst to them, the two had begun to scoot closer to one another as the conversation continued, getting to the point where their knees and shoulders were touching. It wasn’t uncomfortable or awkward. Neither of them pulled away out of instinct. It felt right. It felt natural. 

Gabriel droned on and on about, yet, another story when Lucifer was a young angel. He seemed to have more stories about him than he did of Michael. (Y/N) was quite the opposite. He had more stories about Dean than he did with Sam. Both of them laughed as Gabriel tried his best to continue. 

“So - so Dad got angry because Lucifer kept letting the bugs out of their sanctuary, and -” Gabriel looked over at (Y/N), and his smile vanished. 

(Y/N) glanced up at him, noticing the change of demeanor instantly. His smile, too, disappeared. “Is something wrong?” 

As he kept his eye on him, Gabriel reached up and gently brushed his thumb against (Y/N)’s bottom lip. (Y/N) felt his cheeks heat up and his brows furrow in confusion. 

“Your lips are blue,” Gabriel stated. He glanced up at the sky and his brows shot up. “I am so sorry. I didn’t realize we had been out here so long.” Gabriel sat up. 

“How long how we been out here?” (Y/N) dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone. 

3:27 AM

“Oh shit,” he mumbled as he quickly stood up. 

His legs and ass were completely numb, causing him to sway at the rapid movement. Gabriel was by his side in an instant, hands on his shoulders to steady him. They had been out together for, close to, four hours. No wonder (Y/N)’s lips were blue. He shivered, teeth chattering lightly. Once (Y/N) was able to stand on his own, Gabriel took off his jacket and draped it over (Y/N)’s shoulders. (Y/N) shook his head. 

“Oh, no, Gabriel, it’s okay. I just need to get back to the motel.” He stuttered tiredly. 

“I’m the reason you were out here for so long. Consider it a, um, token of my appreciation for talking to me,” Gabriel smiled sweetly.

(Y/N) returned the smile. “Well, thank you for keeping me company.” 

“Let me take you back to the motel.” 

“No. If Sam and Dean see you, they’ll kill you and then me.”

“Then I won’t let them see me.”

Without another word, Gabriel reached up and pressed his index and middle fingers against (Y/N)’s forehead. (Y/N) inhaled shakily and closed his eyes. One second, he was standing in the park, then, the next, he and Gabriel were standing in front of the Winchester’s motel room. He breathed a sigh of relief once he saw the faded numbers etched onto the door. 

“Thank you,” he smiled and retrieved the key from his pocket. 

“Anytime. And, uh, if you ever feel the need to talk again under better weather conditions, feel free to pray. When the prayers are sent directly to me, it’s a lot easier for me to hear.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” 

“Now go warm up.”

(Y/N) flashed Gabriel one last smile as he turned the key to the room and opened the door. Gabriel vanished. 

Moonlight pooled in through the cracked door as (Y/N) crept into the room. He felt the warmth flood his face and hands as he entered. Despite the heavy jacket he had gone out with, having spent hours in the windy, misty park, he was bound to get cold eventually. He didn’t think he would get that cold, though.

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could see Sam sleeping soundly on his stomach, face nuzzled against the cheap pillow, and Dean sprawled out on the couch, legs and arms spread in uncomfortable positions that he would undoubtedly complain about the next day, mouth slightly open, and drool coating his chin and pillow. (Y/N) was thankful for his stealth ability.

Slowly, he made his way over to the unoccupied bed and crawled underneath the covers. Not bothering to change his clothes or take off his shoes, he nestled into the thick - yet somehow extremely thin - comforter. His eyes closed as soon as his head hit the pillow.

*~*

That was the best night’s sleep he had gotten in ages. 

Well, it would have been, had he not been awoken by a flying pillow to the face.

(Y/N) groaned as he opened his eyes ever so slightly. The sunlight beamed in through the window, caressing his skin, and he hated it. He glanced tiredly in the direction that the pillow came from and found Dean with an amused grin spread across his lips.

“Mornin’ sunshine,” Dean greeted.

“Fuck off,” (Y/N) grunted as he grabbed the pillow and chucked it lazily back at him. He missed terribly. 

“Looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” Sam teased as he sat a cup of steaming coffee on the nightstand next to (Y/N).

“Thanks,” he mumbled and sat up. “And I just got a pillow thrown at my face, am I supposed to jump for joy and sing Kumbaya?” 

“Are you sure it’s the pillow and has nothing to do with you getting back so late?” Dean quirked a brow.

(Y/N) went to reach for the coffee cup, but stopped himself. He glanced at Dean, brows furrowed and eyes narrowed. “How do you know about that?” 

“Well, one, you’re wearing the exact same thing you were wearing yesterday, plus you wore your shoes to bed. Two, I heard you getting back last night,”

“Bullshit. You were passed out.”

“Do you realize how loud you stumbled in? I’m surprised Sammy didn’t wake up because of it. My third point, though,” Dean pointed down to his brother’s chest. “That’s not your jacket. So…did you get lucky?” 

(Y/N) looked down at himself and his brows raised. He was still wearing Gabriel’s jacket. He had been so tired and cold last night that he had completely forgotten to take it off or even give it back. He reached up and played with the collar gently. He had to remember to thank Gabriel for giving it to him.

Oh, wait, prayers! Thank you for the jacket, Gabriel!

“Well?” Dean pressed.

“Huh?” (Y/N) looked over at him. 

“Did you get lucky?” 

(Y/N) snorted. “If I got lucky, do you think I would be here right now?”

“Not unless it was bad.”

“Would that mean I still got ‘lucky’ if it was bad? What kind of luck is that?” 

“You’re dodging the question.”

(Y/N) rolled his eyes. “No, Dean, I didn’t get lucky.”

“Then who’d you meet?” Sam asked.

“Why does it matter?” (Y/N) questioned.

“Because you’re smiling,” Dean pointed out, taking a sip of his coffee. “And you don’t smile like that normally. It’s kind of freaky.”

“Oh, fuck off, Dean,”

(Y/N) hadn’t even realized he had been smiling, but he could hear it in his voice. Dean was right, it had been ages since he had smiled like that. His cheeks were starting to hurt. He reached over, took a sip of his coffee, then put it down. He stood up from his spot on the bed and stretched his aching muscles.

“So,” Dean pursed his lips. “Who was it?”

“You’re not gonna let this go, are you, Dean?”

“Nope,” Dean popped.

(Y/N) shook his head. “It was just this guy that I met at the bar. He bought me a drink, we sat and talked and, when the bar closed, we went to the nearest park and continued our talk.”

Dean’s smirk faltered and was replaced with a frown. “That’s it? You just…talked?” 

“Yeah,” (Y/N) shrugged.

“You’re more boring than Sam,”

“Hey!” Sam exclaimed.

“What do you want me to say, Dean? ‘I found this guy at the bar, we went to the park, I gave him head, he gave me a twenty, said ‘no homo’, and walked away’?” (Y/N) asked. 

“Well, that would have been a hell of a lot more entertaining than ‘we just talked’.”

(Y/N) waved him off. “Whatever,” he mumbled, then kicked his shoes off.

Sam took a sip of his coffee and cleared his throat. “I wouldn’t get too comfortable. We’re gonna go look for that Wendigo.”

“I’m taking a shower before we go, so…” (Y/N) stuck his tongue out at Sam.

Sam smirked and shook his head as (Y/N) gathered some of his clothes from his duffel bag. Without another word, he vanished into the bathroom.

*~*

(Y/N) was sick for a week after that. As it turns out, cold air and wet hair don’t necessarily mix well. At first, he tried to push through it, but fatigue and a sore throat caught up to him and left him on research duty for the duration of the Wendigo hunt. During that time, whenever Sam and Dean were out looking for clues, leaving him alone in the stuffy motel room, he would pray to Gabriel. Gabriel would be quick to respond.

The two would sit and talk for hours, idle chit-chat here and there, and would always seem to dance around the topic of the fight one way or another. Those talks continued well after (Y/N) felt better and the Wendigo hunt concluded. (Y/N) resumed his nightly walks, and Gabriel would accompany him. In the mornings, when Sam and Dean would occasionally catch onto (Y/N)’s disappearing acts, he would play it off as a spontaneous trip to the local bar scene, fabricating stories about meeting a dreamy man he would talk to or go back to his place. It wasn’t a complete lie, so he didn’t feel as bad when he told them. 

As the months went on, (Y/N) could feel himself growing fonder of Gabriel. It was a strong feeling. Is that what love felt like? He could only assume. Yet, the feeling was more than that. He felt connected to him in a much stronger sense of the word. A spiritual sense, perhaps? He couldn’t quite pinpoint the cause of those feelings, but the last thing he was going to do was fight himself on them, despite how obvious it was that his brothers would disapprove of his relationship with Gabriel. That’s what secrets were for. He had gone long enough without telling them, what’s a couple more months or years?

Whenever they were together, (Y/N) felt whole, as if a lost piece of a puzzle he didn’t even know he had found its way to him. When he was with his brothers, or by himself, he found his mind constantly shifting to thoughts of Gabriel. Of what they would talk about, of Gabriel’s smile, of the way his stomach would turn whenever they stood or sat close to one another. He would crave his presence, desperate to hear the sound of his voice. It was killing him, slowly, from the inside out, and he knew if he didn’t say anything soon, he would combust. He had to tell Gabriel his feelings.

One thing he loved about small towns was the lack of artificial lights. Sure, there were dull street lamps scattered around that looked as if they needed to be changed years ago, but the absence of skyscrapers and people, overall, meant not much was needed to illuminate the roads. Locals knew them like the back of their hand anyway. With the minimal light, almost anywhere in town, you could see the stars that decorated the night sky. If you wanted, you could pick out each constellation. Orion’s Belt and the Big Dipper were rather prominent that night.

There were several smaller parks in town, but the biggest sat in the middle of downtown. It wasn’t used as a children’s area as much as a casual gathering ground. (Y/N) could imagine dogs in the grass and elderly couples walking arm-in-arm during the daylight hours. By night, it was abandoned, the distant sound of country music playing from the only local bar. It was the perfect place for him and Gabriel to meet.

They sat on a bench in the middle of the park, heads tilted back as they stared at the stars. Their sides and legs were pressed together, and, for the first time in a while, they said nothing. Normally, their meetings were filled with lively conversation from the moment they saw each other to the moment they parted. (Y/N) had to wonder if Gabriel could tell that he wanted to have a serious discussion. Perhaps he had a lot on his mind. Or, perhaps, Gabriel was too busy reading (Y/N)’s to say anything. Regardless, they had been sat there for close to half an hour without as much as a single word to each other. (Y/N) knew just sitting there wasn’t going to do any good. He had to bite the bullet and say something. 

“Gabriel?” He started, his voice coming out small and quiet.

Gabriel hummed. “Yes?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,”

(Y/N) hesitated. “Well, first of all, I just wanted to say that I like spending time with you.” He began to fiddle with his fingers. “And I don’t want what I’m about to ask to make our meetings stop.”

“Honestly, I think, at this point, the only thing that you can ask to make our meetings stop is ‘Hey, can our meetings stop?’.”

(Y/N) chuckled lightly. “Gabe, I’m being serious.”

“So am I,” he smirked.

“Well, um…” he paused. “Do you ever feel like we’re connected in other ways?”

Gabriel furrowed his brows. He turned his body to face (Y/N), rested his elbow on the back of the bench, and placed his cheek into his hand. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, to be honest. I mean, it feels like…more.”

Gabriel studied (Y/N)’s face, noticing his lack of eye contact. He stayed quiet for a moment, and (Y/N) could feel the anxiety building inside of him. He knew he did a piss poor job at explaining what he meant, but it was the best he could come up with. Slowly, Gabriel smirked.

“You have a crush on me, don’t you?” He teased.

(Y/N)’s eyes widened and the heat rose to his cheeks. He glanced over at Gabriel, then back down at his lap. 

“I, well…I’m not…I- that’s not the point, okay!?” (Y/N) shook his head. “The point is that it doesn’t feel like just a crush to me. It feels like an even deeper connection than that. Like something about our souls and- nevermind, this just sounds stupid,” his shoulders deflated in defeat.

Gabriel waved his hands and shook his head. “Hey, hey, it’s not stupid, alright? I get what you’re saying. You feel as if we’re connected by something other than you just being my vessel.”

(Y/N) nodded and let out a shaky breath. “Yeah, exactly.”

“I feel it, too.”

“You do?”

“I mean, yeah,” Gabriel folded his hands in his lap. “I felt that when we first saw each other, even before the warehouse. Then, everything with your brothers happened, and we met again, and, still,  I felt that connection.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I thought I was looking too hard into it. I started thinking that, maybe, the connection was all in my head. That it was, truly, just our connection by you being my vessel. When Dean said what he did about me being too afraid to face my family, I thought no one would understand my point of view on the fight. What I’ve had to go through being related to Michael and Lucifer. Then, you started to pray to me, and I knew that you understood me. That’s what made me come find you in the first place. Once we were alone, I felt this sense of…peace. I hate to admit it, but I feel like I can barely go a single day without wanting to see you. Without needing to see you. I knew it was more at that point.”

(Y/N)’s eyes were on Gabriel as he listened intently to what he was saying. He shook his head. “I feel the same way. It’s almost as if, I don’t know, I can’t breathe when you’re not around.”

“Well, please don’t stop on my account.”

“Stop it, we’re having a serious moment,” (Y/N) slapped his arm.

“Sorry, sorry,” Gabriel smirked. “I mean, as cliche as it sounds, it feels, almost as if we were meant for each other, right? Like we were meant to be together? Almost as if it was more than you being my vessel that bought us together.”

Gabriel reached over and grabbed (Y/N)’s hand, rubbing the side of it gently with his thumb. (Y/N) looked into Gabriel’s eyes, and he felt his heart soar. He reached up and caressed his cheek before they both leaned in, their lips fitting together perfectly in a sweet, loving kiss. Their eyes closed, and they both melted into a deep, sensual embrace. Almost immediately, all of the stress and worry seemingly melted away, replaced with a sense of belonging. A sense of closeness.

When they pulled back, they looked into each other’s eyes once more. A small smile creased the corner of (Y/N)’s lips.

“You’re right, it is pretty cheesy.” He whispered, his thumb tracing circles around Gabriel’s cheekbone.

Gabriel cocked a brow. “I thought we were having a serious conversation. Why do you get to make quips?”

“It’s kind of hard not to when I’m around you.” (Y/N) pressed his forehead against Gabriel’s.

Gabriel chuckled. “I guess I’m rubbing off on you, aren’t I?” He moved his hands to (Y/N)’s hips.

“I don’t see that as a bad thing.”

They sat together and enjoyed the peaceful quiet of their embrace. (Y/N) never felt more relaxed in his entire life, and he wanted to savor every moment he had with Gabriel.

Then, his mind started to drift. Drift to the fight, the battle between Michael and Lucifer, and to Sam and Dean. Gabriel had done such a good job at keeping him distracted from all the chaos that surrounded him that he hadn’t even had a chance to consider what could happen with the fight now that he and Gabriel were involved. Neither of them wanted to participate in the fight, but what would happen if they didn’t? Who would win? Would he lose one, or possibly both, of his brothers? If they did get involved in the fight, was there a possibility that he and Gabriel would lose each other? Did they even stand a chance to win against Michael and Lucifer if things were to turn ugly? Was there a chance that he could lose Gabriel even without being in the fight itself?

Gabriel reached a hand up and ran his fingers through (Y/N)’s hair soothingly. He pressed a small kiss to the corner of his lips. “Your thoughts are being really loud, Sugarplum.” He whispered. 

(Y/N) broke from his trance and shook his head lightly. “I’m sorry, it’s just…with the fight,” (Y/N) looked away briefly. “I don’t want to lose Sam and Dean, but now that I have you, I don’t want to lose you either.”

Gabriel gave him a sympathetic look as he pulled him close. “I know. This whole thing is one giant mess. I wish none of it had to happen. But I’m going to be with you every step of the way, I promise.”

(Y/N) shook his head. “You can’t promise me that. Knock on wood.”

“What?” Gabriel chuckled.

“I don’t want you to have just jinxed yourself, now knock on wood.”

Gabriel smirked as he rasped his knuckles against the wooden bench three times. “Better?”

“A little,” (Y/N) mumbled and nuzzled his cheek against Gabriel’s shoulder. “I don’t think I’ll feel better until this fight is over.”

Gabriel wrapped his arms tightly around him. “How about this? I promise to do everything in my power to keep you distracted. That way, you’re not too stressed out.”

(Y/N) pursed his lips in thought. “Not too distracted, though. I had practically forgotten about the fight until now, and I still need to stay on my toes.”

“How about I distract you just enough to keep your mind off of it?”

“That sounds perfect.”

“Well then, Sugarplum, how do you propose I keep you distracted?”

“You can start by kissing me again,”

“Oh, I can do more than kissing,” Gabriel mused in a suggestive tone and wiggled his brows.

(Y/N) slapped his chest. “Perv,” he grumbled. “Let’s just start with kissing.”

“Taking it slow, I like your style,” Gabriel nuzzled his nose against (Y/N)’s.

(Y/N) smiled widely. “Then shut up and kiss me already.”

Without another word, Gabriel leaned down, capturing (Y/N)’s lips in a deep kiss. Just like that, all of his problems dissipated, and it felt as if he was floating. The park didn’t exist anymore, nor the stumbling locals who left the bar periodically. There were no stars, no more beautiful night sky. The only two things that existed were Gabriel and (Y/N). They were complete. They were strong. They were one. It felt as if nothing in Heaven, Hell, or in between could tear them apart. 

And everything was as it should be.

[samsgff]

*Using the events of s5 with a little bit of alternations*

⚠️ tw for suicide nd alcoholism ⚠️

Once Sam jumped into the hole dean felt like he was stabbed right through the heart.

Days, weeks, months had gone by and Dean was still grieving. See everyone has their own way of grieving Dean's way was to rot at Bobby's house, he did not move an inch from his bed, he let himself drown completely in his sorrow. Bobby tried his best to convince him to go on hunting trips with him and constantly told him it'll help, but dean's only reply was "I'm done".

Day after day, the bottles of boose kept increasing, but drinking was his only escape. It was his way to numb the pain, it was his way to fill in the void inside of him that kept growing ever since the incident. It was his way to be at peace, it allowed him to sleep without rewatching his brother jump to his death. However some coping mechanisms lose their purpose at some point. The alcohol was not doing it for the now only child winchester, even so he tried to keep on going but what was left for him to hang on to if the only person he ever cared for was gone? And so one night, when Bobby was out, Dean went looking for some pills and since he knew Bobby more than his own father he knew exactly where he kept them so it didn't take much time for him to find those colorful tablets. He wrote a farewell letter to his adoptive father his one and only father, thanking him for taking him and his younger brother under his wing and apologized for being such a pain in the ass for the past few years. Dean knew the right dose, he always has. As he swallowed those pills down with whiskey he could feel the inside of his stomach already lightning up in flames, but he didn't care, he wanted it to end, he wanted to be where he belonged, in hell, next to his sammy.

Few minutes later, everything went silent, his body was completely numb, his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

The old man arrived at his house, he opened the door, it was quiet way too quiet. He placed his keys on the coffee table and called out: "Dean?" his eyes caught the letter, he opened it with shaky hands, that can't be, Dean wouldn't do that he tried gaslighting himself. He dropped the letter and ran as fast he could breaking down the door and holding Dean's unconscious body between his arms. "No Dean wake up" He yelled. "Wake up now boy" he yelled again as his eyes filled up with tears. "Dean don't do that to me" he mumbled while holding his body closer to him. "Castiel!!" he screamed. "Get down here cas now!" he screamed again hoping the angel would answer his prayers. And he did. "what happened?" he asked confused. "Fix him now or i swear" Bobby threatened. Cas placed his hand over Dean's forehead and it only took a few seconds before he opened his eyes again.

He adjusted himself, looked at his hands all confused.

"No no noo" he screamed in anger.

"WHY DID YOU BRING ME BACK?" he looked at the angel and his adoptive father with eyes full of tears.

"i was ready to go i was ready to die" he yelled.

"Well too bad because i wasn't" Bobby snapped

"the only person who brought a purpose to my life is gone. The only person i ever loved and cared for and looked after is gone. And there's a hole inside of that just keeps on growing and growing everyday and it- it hurts it hurts so much i thought- i thought i could numb the pain but it's crushing me it's sucking the life out of me i can't i just can't" he cried out.

Bobby and Cas stood above him, with sadness and despair in their eyes.

"i think i could help" Cas mumbled

Dean looked up to him with the tiniest bit of hope.

"i could erase every memory you ever had with sam it would be like he was never your brother- like he never existed" he continued while avoiding eye contact.

"no i can't allow that" bobby added

"this is my decision bobby" dean replied firmly.

"do it cas" he said as he stood up and faced him.

"but this is going to hurt" castiel warned him before proceeding.

"i said do it" he repeated.

The angel placed the palm of his hand over the hunters forehead and channeled every power he had, it didn't take long before dean fell to his knees screaming as all of the memories with his younger brother flashed before his eyes. Bobby looked away since he couldn't handle seeing his son in that condition.

Once it was over dean fell to the ground unconscious.

"his body is going to need a little of time to readjust" cas told Bobby in a reassuring tone.

"i hope you realize the consequences of what you just did" the adoptive father added before leaving the room and slamming the door behind him.

[castieldelamancha]

"I am sorry, Dean."

The whispered words make the man laying comfortably between his legs, arms wrapped around his waist, look up from where his head was resting on his stomach. Dean gives him a confused expression, that doesn't erase completely the clear contentment and satisfaction in his eyes. Castiel almost feels guiddy about the fact he was the one that made Dean feel all those things, all that wild joy, all that untamed pleasure.

Almost.

Because the guilt he has been carrying within him these days is growing too big to ignore.

"What 're you talking 'bout?" Dean asks, sleepily, head flopping down once more, he nuzzles even closer to Castiel.

Castiel keeps his hands busy, his fingers combing Dean's short hair, as his mind tries to rearrange its thoughts and words into something that will make sense to the other man.

"It's just " he starts "that I would have loved to leave something behind for you, but I didn't," Dean doesn't say anything, and Castiel is grimacing at his poor attempt at communicating his inner turmoil, but then Dean goes tense and his once relaxed and open hands close around the sheets covering them. He doesn't like to call about those days, neither does Castiel, the quiet days, as he had called them once.

A phone that never rang, Cas, as much as I stared at it, not a knock on the door, there was this silence, I didn't feel like talking either, they were just so quiet, those days.

But Castiel needs to talk about it, make it better somehow.

"I thought about leaving a letter behind, some kind of explanation, because I owned you one, and at least I could give you that, albeit rushed," he continues, " I didn't know what to say, no words were going to give you comfort, I didn't really have any material things to left for you to keep," the tape Dean gave him, Castiel thinks to himself, was something he was determined to take with him once it was time to go, and he did, "I avoided it until it happened, never able to leave something I wanted you to have, to remind you you were in my mind, what you meant to me."

He wasn't avoiding the topic, he knew well his time was going to come sooner or later, he was even at peace with it, he was going to hurt others but, if he thought of the grand scheme of things, that was never as heavy as the idea of being able to save them all if he had the chance if he weighed them on his heart's scale.

They would be better off without him, he had long convinced himself of that by then.

It was more the impossibility of seeing himself reaching that kind of happiness, that bright joy that could blind him for a moment and make him forget about everything else, the pain and struggle, the sadness. He knew well he was never going to have what he was sure could meant all that for him. He couldn't imagine the moment it would happen either, if he would be able to say goodbye or not.

He never found the words or the gesture that could give Dean peace, because he was sure he was going to mess it all up, make it all more complicated. He never found the words that could have been enough to express how big, how bright, how strong and freeing all he feels for Dean is. He has never been one for poetry and pleasantries.

"But you did." Dean says after a while, he moves away from Cas, maneuvering until he is sitting down too, facing Castiel, the back of his knees resting on Castiel's thighs.

He reaches out for him and one of his hands finds the back of Castiel's neck, squeezing firmly, the other splayed on his chest, his fingertips drumming against his collarbone.

"You don't have to apologize," but Castiel still feels he had to, and both of them know he isn't going to back down on that, "you said all those" he pauses, clearing his throat, "all those things about me, about us, all those amazing things, and you left them with me, for me to keep them safe." Only his to hear, only his to have, only his to replay as many times as he needed them. No one could have taken them for him. "You gave me a chance to see another day." He gave Dean a love like he could have never imagine could be real.

He moves his hand away from Castiel's chest and holds onto Castiel's hand, interlacing their fingers, pressing Castiel's knuckles to his cheek,

"You came back to me."

Castiel wraps his arm around his shoulders and pulls him closer to himself in a tight embrace, dipping his head down to press lingering kisses on every inch of warm, freckled, skin he can reach.

[inessencedevided]

Very emotional rn about the whole alpha centauri thing bc I just realised ... crowley mentioning it so many times, saying he wants to take Aziraphale there, may have actively contributed to Aziraphale's decision at the end of s2 and his offering Crowley to reinstate him as an angel (and to the frankly ludicrous misconception that crowley could EVER agree to that)

Bc obviously the first scene of S2 was meant to not only show us what crowley was like as an angel, but also what that means for Aziraphale. he never saw crowley that happy, carefree or innocent ever again. the heartbreak we, the viewers felt, must have been a fraction of Aziraphale's whenever he thinks about how utterly innocent the starmaker was and how brutally he was punished for it. of course, he wants to see him as happy again as he was as an angel among the stars (as has been stated in many a great meta post)

And here's crowley, again and again, saying he wants to run away to those very same stars, buying astronomy books, making alpha centauri so much of a thing that when he mentions it to beelzebub and gabriel Aziraphale looks at him like he's just had another in a series of italicised OH-moments. so what I think is that Aziraphale took this as confirmation that under all the blustering and posture, crowley secretly longs to be an angel again, too

+ Aziraphale has also been shown to know, even show unwavering faith in Crowley's goodness as early as ca. 2500 bc during the Job minisode. (there's scarcely a scene where Aziraphale is more forceful about anything as when he insists that no, crowley would never hurt children) and Aziraphale, despite everything, still believes in a duality of good and evil

so here we have it, aziraphale thinks crowley is good. since demons aren't good, a mistake must have been made, crowley should never have fallen and should be reinstated as an angel. Crowley, again and again, expresses his longing for the stars (as well as frustration at his demonic limitations), ergo: clearly, he must want to be an angel (read: good) again too

And yeah, there's obviously some escapist tendencies in crowley wanting to run towards the stars (with Aziraphale) but that innocent starmaker could never be again, not without erasing Crowley from existence. some things simply cannot be undone

"aim for my mouth but shoot past my ear" indeed ...

(No wonder Aziraphale seemed so genuinely shocked when Crowley refused his offer as forcefully as he did)

Tltr: Crowley's "run away to alpha centauri with me" might have been misunderstood by Aziraphale to mean that Crowley secretly wants to be an angel again, contributing to him making that offer at the end of s2 and genuinely expecting it to be accepted

[nova--spark]

Will raf catch team bee on the internet ?

You my dear anon, have unleashed the rant and story I have been waiting to write for this exact question.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Yes. Yes he did.

Rafael was running a program one day, seeking possible Cons or Bots online, after the disturbance at Outpost Omega-1 had been noted, heavy damage, as if a battle had taken place...and the large footprints of familiar make and model.

So, he scoured every corner of the internet he could, till finally he found it.

Crown City, CA. News coverage of a giant mechanical green T-Rex, of a museum debut gone awry with a giant yellow animatronic and a buffalo animatronic, local legend of some beast known as the Kospego, and so much more--

And a concert, live streamed and filmed for the city to see, where a familiar yellow Autobot was.

It was Bee.

He was...back? But...he hadn't contacted them? Why? He...he had to have his reasons, right? Was it to keep them safe? Had his contacts been wiped since returning to Cybertron? Had he forgotten them, was Raf not that important to--

No. No he couldn't let that get to him.

So, the youngest member of Team Prime did what he always did best. Wiped the internet clean of this new team, Team Bee, to keep their identities and existence safe.

Bee had his reasons for not reaching out, surely...even if it hurt, that his best friend hadn't even thought to reach out...

But, he was sure in time, maybe he would.

So, taking a hard drive, he saved all these new sightings of 'Team Bee' on it, and erased the originals from the rest of the internet.

The small price to pay, for finding out that his best friend was back.

He really hoped to see him in person again.

[twofrontteethstillcrooked]

Suptober 8 Oct.: Sober

Dean and Cas sat in companionable silence for approximately three seconds before Dean was motivated to speak. "All right, ask already."

deancas, new relationship au, Claire. Additional prompt courtesy of @clenster (many thanks!)

Dean, having taken one drink of something called Honkytonk Smashed Apple, promptly did not know what to do with the liquid in his mouth. He glared at the bottle in his hand like it had called his mother a nasty word, and swallowed, eventually. 

"How is it?" Cas asked, a skeptical look on his face.

"It's great." The coating on Dean's tongue was…unnatural.

Claire snorted. "You could go buy a regular beer from one of the 90 booths selling 'em."

"No, I'm fine." Dean perceived the frown on his face and worked to erase it. He took another drink and forced it down. "It's, hmm. Crispy."

Claire grabbed the bottle from him and slung back a swallow. "Oh. It just tastes like bad fizzy apple juice." She held out the bottle to Cas. "Wanna try it?"

"Hey," Dean said, grabbing the bottle back from her. "This isn't– Sanitary." He ignored the narrowing of Cas's eyes and continued, "And besides, you both have your own beverages so you can leave mine alone."

"Whatever." Claire stood up and rapped on the wooden picnic tabletop a couple of times. "I'm gonna go buy a corn dog. Either of you in?"

Dean sighed. "Yeah, I'll have one. With mustard."

Cas asked, "Do you have enough money?"

Claire waved around a silver money clip of cash. "Thanks to a couple of drunk-ass college kids who didn't know a ticky shot from a kiss, yes." She pushed off and wove through the crowd towards a flashing food truck named The Big Dog.

Dean and Cas sat in companionable silence for approximately three seconds before Dean was motivated to speak. "All right, ask already."

Cas didn't rise to the bait. "We are at an autumn festival where a goodly amount of cider is being sold from a multitude of vendors. It doesn't seem entirely out of character that you'd choose to try a non-alcoholic one."

Dean took another sip of the cider in question, regretted it, and sat the bottle down firmly on the table. He looked at Cas with a rueful glance. "Yeah, but I'm not, like, Mr. Designated Driver usually."

"I'm capable of driving your car without causing her any harm," Cas pointed out. 

"I'm just…" Dean trailed off. "Trying new things is. Advisable."

"That doesn't mean you have to keep drinking a beverage you clearly despise." Cas pushed his own bottle of something called Stumptown Spice 8% ABV over to Dean. "You're welcome to try some of mine." He looked away. "Unless you think you'll catch cooties from me."

An unexpected laugh burst out of Dean. "Where did you even hear that word, much less know the right context to use it in?" 

Cas shook his head with an embarrassed smile. "I genuinely don't know."

Wiping his eyes, Dean felt laughter bubbling through him. Cas made him laugh like this at least once a week and it was the best every time. He probably needed to be a little cooler about it. 

"Okay. Whew." His stomach hurt from his attempt to get himself under control. He knocked his shoulder against Cas's. "I don't think you have cooties." 

He locked eyes with Cas as long as Cas would let him. 

Cas broke first; there were two splotches of color on his cheeks that Dean liked to think were caused by him and not the frosty night air.

"Well. That's a relief." Cas tipped his head at the food truck. "She seems to be doing all right."

"Yeah, Claire's a champ. I'm glad she decided to meet us here." Dean smiled as she approached.

Claire slid his corn dog in a paper tray over to him. "Fresh from the fryer, so eater beware."

A longtime corn dog aficionado – and he didn't mean that in any euphemistic way – Dean attempted to bite into flaming hot meat on a stick without being childish or obscene about it. There was, after all, a child present. 

"So you guys are officially dating, huh?" the child in question asked pleasantly, and Dean almost choked to death on a mouthful of what was probably ground up horse nostril and pig anus.

Cas took a long drink of his mystery ale and handed Dean a clean napkin.

When Claire grinned at Dean, her teeth were smeared with neon yellow mustard. On purpose, he was sure.

His awful non-alcoholic cider did provide some throat-soothing moisture. He guessed that made it worth suffering. By the time he was no longer drowning in grease, Cas had answered affirmatively on both his and Dean's behalf.

Claire rolled her eyes but took a breath and smiled, with at least some true kindness (and far less mustard), at Cas. "Seems like you're pretty good for each other, so. Cool."

Dean knew that the guilt Cas felt over Jimmy and Amelia was never going to go away; it was just something he'd learned to carry. He also knew when Cas said, "Thank you, Claire," it meant something bigger than could possibly be conveyed in three words over dinner.

"Yeah, thanks, Claire," Dean said in a faux-mocking tone. 

Claire stuck out her tongue at him. She'd wolfed down her food and was standing up again. "It's caramel apple time."

"You got a hollow leg or something?" Dean asked, fishing around in his pocket for a fiver. "Get me one with peanuts."

"Cas?" Claire wiggled her eyebrows at him and snatched up Dean's money. "C'mon, man, you gotta try one of these."

Cas nodded. "I'll have one."

"Back in a mo," Claire said, dashing away.

Dean finished his corn dog in relative safety and resigned himself to drinking the last dregs of Honkytonk. He shifted a little closer to Cas on the bench and placed a quick kiss on his rough jaw.

"What was that for?" Cas asked, eyes bright.

"Just 'cause," Dean said. "Plus, Claire's right."

"I said I'd eat a caramel apple."

"I meant about the other thing."

"Oh." Cas looked down, pleased. "Yes."

By the time Claire was back again, Dean had gathered the courage to try a new thing. He called it Holding Cas's hand in public, and it worked out much better than the cider had.

[silver-stake-through-the-heart]

Look, no disrespect, but ahh, I'm not exactly a believer.

-1x12

Casey: Do you believe in God, Dean? I'd be surprised if you did.

I don't know. I'd like to.

-3x04

You didn't toy with us, Chuck, okay? You didn't create us. (...) Chuck, you're not a god!

-4x18

Well, I feel stupid doing this. But… I am fresh out of options. So please. I need some help. I'm praying, okay? Come on. Please.

Prayer is a sign of faith. This is a good thing, Dean.

-4x18

Listen, Chuckles, even if there is a God, he is either dead—and that's the generous theory—

He is out there, Dean.

—or he's up and kicking and doesn't give a rat's ass about any of us.

-5x02

I mean there were times when I was looking for my dad when all logic said that he was dead, but I knew in my heart he was still alive. Who cares what some ninja turtle says, Cas, what do you believe?

I believe he's out there.

Good. Then go find him.

-5x03

And you're just gonna do whatever God says.

Michael: Yes, because I am a good son.

Okay, well, trust me, pal. Take it from someone who knows—that is a dead-end street.

-5x13

Thanks.

Yeah, don't mention it. Yeah, I've been there. I'm a big expert on deadbeat dads. So…Yeah, I get it. I know how you feel.

-5x17

Listen, I need you to pray to your angel buddies and let them know that I'm here.

-5x18

Cas, are you God?

That's a nice compliment. But no.

-5x22

What do you mean you don't know?

Sam: I mean, no idea. I–I'm just back.

Well, was it God, or– or– or Cas? I mean, does Cas know anything about it?

-6x01

Sam: Castiel…This is really important, okay? Um…We really need to talk to you.

Castiel…Come on in.

Cas is busy.

-6x20

I'm not an angel anymore. I'm your new god. You will bow down and profess your love unto me, your Lord, or I shall destroy you.

Stop.

What's the point if you don't mean it? You fear me. Not love, not respect, just fear.

-7x01

Yeah? What about God part deux?

-7x01

Sam: Dean, all we can do is talk to the guy.

He's not a guy. He's God. And he's pissed. And when God gets righteous, you get the hell out of the way; haven't you read the Bible?

-7x01

Sam: Well, I mean is there some kind of heavenly weapon? Maybe something out of that angel arsenal that Balthazar stole? There has to be something that can hurt him.

He's God, Sam. There's nothing, but there might be someone.

-7x01

Cas, you got your ears on? Listen, you know I am not one for praying, 'cause in my book it's... it's the same as begging. But this is about Sam, so I need you to hear me. We are going into this deal blind... and I don't know what's ahead or what it's gonna bring for Sam. Now, he's covering pretty good, but I know that he is hurting, and this one was supposed to be on me. So, for all that we've been through, I'm asking you– you keep a lookout for my little brother, okay? Where the hell are you, man?

-8x16

Doctor: I'm afraid that's in God's hands now.

You're a doctor. You're a medical professional. You're trying to tell me that my brother's life is in God's hands? What, is that supposed to be a– a comfort?

Doctor: Mr. Dougherty–

No, God has nothing to do with this equation at all.

Doctor: I didn't mean–

That's not good enough.

Cas, are you there? Sammy's hurt. He's hurt, uh– he's hurt pretty bad. And, um... I know you think that I'm pissed at you, okay? But I don't care that the angels fell. So whatever you did or didn't do, it doesn't matter, okay? We'll work it out. Please, man, I need you here.

-9x01

There is a God. *answers the phone* Hello?

I may have a case for you.

-9x06

Metatron is trying to play God.

Sam: Play God? Cas, he erased angel warding. He friggin' blew out Holy Fire. He is God. He's powering up with the angel tablet. How the hell are we supposed to stop this guy?

All right, so what if there is a stairway to heaven? We find it and get a drop on the guy.

-9x18

Tessa: There's no God. There's only Castiel.

-9x22

I believe there is a God. But I'm not sure he still believes in us.

-10x06

Don't count on God. Okay? Count on us.

-11x07

Chuck: Well, I've been mulling it over. And from where I sit, I think it has.

Well, from where I sit, it feels like you left us and you're trying to justify it.

Chuck: I know you had a complicated upbringing, Dean, but don't confuse me with your dad.

-11x21

Gail: Do you know God, gentlemen?

Oh, yeah. Yeah, we're– we're besties.

-12x04

Okay, Chuck… or god, or whatever. I need your help. See, you– you left us. You left us. You went off. You said… You said the earth would be fine because it had me… and it had Sam, but it’s not, and we’re not.

We've lost everything. And now you're gonna bring him back. Okay?

God's not listening. He doesn't give a damn.

-13x01

Okay, that's it. I'm done, all right? 'Cause he's not God, he's not Cas, he's not Simba. He's the friggin' Devil!

-13x02

Oh, I believe. Hell, I know. God? He doesn't give a damn about you or me or anyone else. So, if you're expecting some sort of a-a miracle to happen, well… good luck.

-13x15

No, we're done talking. 'Cause this– this isn't just a story. It's our lives! So God or no God, you go to hell.

-14x20

Fight God? Without the gun? It's God, Sam. And he's coming for us. How the hell are we supposed to fight God?

-15x05

Listen to yourself. "We're owed." "We deserve." Come on, man. You're not God. Hell, God's not even God.

-15x07

Cas? Cas, I hope you can hear me... that wherever you are, it's not too late. I should've stopped you. You're my best friend, but I just let you go. 'Cause it was easier than admitting I was wrong.

I– Ohh. I don't know why I get so angry. I just know– I know that it's– i-it's just always been there. And when things go bad, it just– it comes out. And I can't– I can't stop it. No matter how– how bad I want to, I just can't stop it. And– And I– I forgive you. Of course I forgive you. I'm sorry it took me so long– I'm sorry it took me till now to say it. Cas, I'm– I'm so sorry. Man, I hope you can hear me. I hope you can hear me. Okay.

Okay, Cas, I need to say something.

You don't have to say it. I heard your prayer.

-15x09

Sam: So… does this mean you're the new… I mean, what do we call you?

Who cares what we call him? Look, all that matters is he got us back online.

-15x19

Do not make any idols in any form, because the Lord your God hates for his people to worship other gods. The Lord your God is a consuming fire, a jealous God. He tolerates no rivals.

[Deuteronomy 4:23-24]

[takerfoxx]

Hey.

Surprise! Here's the final piece of the Walpurgis Nights crew watch The Rebellion Story!

Reminder:

G=Gretchen

H=Homulilly

Op=Ophelia

Ok=Oktavia

Ca=Candeloro/Mami

Ch=Charlotte

...

The room that Homulilly shared with her girlfriend Kriemhild Gretchen was an eclectic mix of Gretchen’s love for bright and cheery colors and Homulilly’s preference for the macabre, from the gothic desk lamp surrounded by tiny glass kittens to the imitation human skull adorned with a crown of daisies. A newcomer might find their spirits uplifted by how warm and welcoming it was, only to then feel quite unsettled once they noticed the more gloomy bits of décor.

Not now, though. Now it was all gloomy, and for once the reason was Gretchen.

The lights were out, the curtains drawn, and Gretchen was seated on the side of the bed, shoulders slumped in misery, her legs lying in limp curls all over the floor like wet spaghetti noodles. Her face was all blotchy from crying.

Homulilly’s chest tightened up. Carefully shutting the door behind her, she walked over to Gretchen, careful to not step on any of her legs, and sat down next to her.

“Um, are you...okay?” Homulilly said, folding her hands in her lap.

Swallowing hard, Gretchen stared down at the spiral patterns her legs had formed on the floor. “Yeah. But um, not really. I don't know.”

Fortunately, the two of them knew each other so well that Homulilly didn’t have any difficulty sorting out what Gretchen meant. Gretchen was fine in that she wasn’t hurt, in any danger, and would probably be fine before too long, but she was very upset and feeling really confused.

“Are you mad at me?” Homulilly said.

Sniffling, Gretchen grabbed a tissue from the box on the nightstand and blew her nose. “A little. But not really,” she said as she tossed it into the wastebasket.

Homulilly considered that answer. Everything in the movie had been so confusing in how to related to the residents of the house that it was hard to separate the two.

“Are you...more upset about what Homura did to Madoka, or what she did to herself?” she said.

Gretchen made a face. “I...I’m not sure. I mean, why did she do that to her? To Madoka, I mean. She was getting her happy ending! They were going to be together. Like us! Isn’t that what she wanted?”

Before Homulilly could respond, Gretchen immediately launched into the rebuttal. “And I know! Kyubey would try again! But did she have to do it like that? Couldn’t she have gone with Madoka and then they could’ve come up with something together after?”

Homulilly shrugged. “Maybe. But I don't think Homura wanted that.”

“Why?”

“I think...I think Homura just...broke. I think she was so messed up by...by everything that had been done to her, everything she went through that she...couldn’t take it anymore.”

“Okay, but why do that?”

“Because it was the only way she could have any control over anything.”

Her brow furrowing, Gretchen glanced over to Homulilly in confusion.

“Think about it,” Homulilly urged. “Everything she tried, she failed. Going back in time didn’t work. She had to watch you...um, watch Madoka die over and over again. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t win. And then Madoka made her big, witch-erasing wish, it took her away from Homura for good. She lost again.”

Now Gretchen was fully turned toward Homulilly, silently listening.

“It’s like what we said earlier. I think Homura told Kyubey about Madoka and the wishes because she was so miserable in the new world without Madoka that she was almost hoping that he’d do something like what he did. She wanted Madoka back. But when he did, it ended up being in the worst way possible. Even when she got what she wanted, she still lost!”

Letting out a long and slow exhale, Homulilly said, “No matter what she did, she always ended up as a pawn in someone else’s agenda. Even going with Madoka wouldn’t have changed that.”

Gretchen fell silent, mulling over Homulilly’s words. Then she sniffed, blew her nose, and muttered, “I…I get it. At least I think I do. I just don’t think…I don’t think she should have done what others were doing to her. And I definitely don’t like how she was calling herself evil! Hasn’t the world been cruel enough to her, without her being cruel to herself?”

Homulilly found herself thinking back to her first few years as, well, herself, back when she and Gretchen had found themselves in the care of the Freehaven Integration Bureau. She had not liked herself very much back then, and it had taken a lot of work from both herself and those around her to help work past all those doubts and insecurities to accept herself for who she was. She could only imagine the absolute depths of the self-loathing that plagued Homura Akemi.

“Maybe we should stop, then,” she said. “Charlotte was right. This was a bad idea.”

“Stop?” Despite how much the movie had distressed her, Gretchen seemed even more upset by the idea of not finishing it. “We can’t! We can’t just leave things like that!”

“But what if what happens next is even worse?”

Again Gretchen did not respond, though her curling legs suddenly lay flat, indicating that she was deep in thought.

Then, so suddenly that it took Homulilly by surprise, she sprang up, all twelve legs lifting her almost all the way to the ceiling.

“Then at least we’ll know,” she said, the determination evident in her voice. “But I can’t have all that eating at my mind. I need to know how it turns out.”

For as sweet and unassuming as Gretchen was, when she had her mind set on something, it was impossible to deter her. And honestly, Homulilly did agree. “Okay,” she said, standing up as well. “Let’s finish this nightmare.”

…

=Homulilly and Gretchen return=

G: Hey.

Op: Oh, uh, hi.

Ca: Gretchen, are you-

G: I’m fine. I’m sorry I ran out like that.

Op: And are you two-

H: We talked it over. We’re okay.

Op: Okay. Because if you want to stop…

G: I told you. I need to see how this ends. I can’t just leave things like that. But I promise I won’t run out again.

Ok: Okay then. Um, let’s again remind ourselves that this is an alternate Bad Future and none of this actually happened, and we’re all happy together, okay?

Ca: Agreed.

Op: Right there with yah, babe.

Ch: Sounds good to me.

G: Yes. Right. This didn’t happen.

Ch: Well, if you believe in multiverse theory-

H: Just play the movie.

…

Ch: Okay, so, we’re in the real world now?

Ca: I think so. Albeit one that Homura’s…overwritten.

G: What does that even mean? Is she God now? And don’t call her the Devil!

Op: Why are you looking at me? I wasn’t going to say it.

Ok: You were thinking it.

Op: I was thinking it a little.

…

H: Well, apparently the new God likes to have tea parties in the middle of the street.

Ok: For reasons.

Ca: Oh. It’s…me. Well, at least I’m still alive.

Ok: What the hell was that blue mouse thing?

Ca: Um, that was…one of Charlotte’s familiars.

Ch: I-

Op: What was it doing outside of a labyrinth? Actually, you know what? I don’t care. My weird threshold has been thoroughly maxed out.

H: How do you even remember what her familiars look like? Wasn’t that over twenty years ago?

Ca: Believe me, some things still out in the memory.

Ok: Wait, I changed first, right? Did I have familiars?

Ca: You two merged pretty quickly, and by then we were done with the familiars.

Ok: So, me and Charlotte joined souls before anyone else.

=thoughtful pause=

Ch: I refuse to entertain this line of thought any further.

Ok: Ouch. Tell me how you really feel.

Ch: Oh, for the love of…

…

H: Who am I talking to?

Op: Um, the waiter? Yourself?

Ok: Oh! There goes your cup.

Ch: Clumsy God.

Ca: Is that feather from Homura’s wing? How’d I-Never mind.

…

Op: Oh. I’m here, now. Feeding the birds.

Ok: That you are.

Op: Yup. Just me feeding the fucked-up birds that I suppose I can actually see.

Ch: You don’t seem very concerned.

Op: Maybe they just look like magpies to me?

Ok: It is nice of you to be so sharing with the unholy abominations.

Op: Oh, thanks a lot, you fucked-up children! Made me waste an apple! Ungrateful little brats.

Ch: You do look kind of cool looking over everyone from that tree, though.

Op: I always look cool. Looking cool is my default. Get on my level, scrubs.

…

Ok: Oh. Me.

G: You look angry.

Ok: Well, apparently I have a bullshit detector.

Ca: We’re not going to see another fight, are we?

Ch: It’s a little late in the movie for another action scene.

Op: Besides. Homura would absolutely wipe the floor with her.

Ok: Hey!

Op: Sorry, babe. But she’s God now. You’re just a little outclassed.

Ok: Hey, I can beat up a god. Just watch me. Bring me a god right now, and I’ll beat them up.

H: You sure you want to go?

Ok: You’re no god.

H: Are you sure about that? Maybe I’ve been one this whole time and just never told anyone.

=Charlotte eyes her suspiciously=

…

Ch: On the one hand, you really got to admire how fluid the animation is. On the other, what the hell is she doing with her hands?

Ok: You do weird things with your hands all the time!

Ch: I’m autistic. It’s called stimming. Homura’s just doing it to be dramatic.

Op: She is pretty extra, not gonna lie.

G: Wait, she only captured my human part? What about the rest of me?

Op: Dunno. Maybe it’s still there. Being God.

Ok: So, there’s two Gods now?

Ch: More God and-

=Gretchen glares=

Ch: -and okay, never mind.

…

G: You’re not evil! Stop calling yourself-Huh?

Ch: And Homura’s familiars have all decided to take a swan dive. Would that even kill them?

Op: Somehow, that’s less disturbing than how much they’re smiling.

Ok: WOW! She’s leaning in awfully close! Personal bubble, come on!

Ch: See? She just likes being dramatic.

H: Do I ever get that dramatic?

Op: You have your moments, but this is way over the top.

Ok: Oh, so Sayaka can just summon me up whenever she needs someone’s ass kicked. Gotta admit, I don’t know how I feel about that.

Ch: It does raise a lot of weird questions about the connection between Puella Magi and witches.

Op: At least she didn’t stab her own heart out this time.

Ch: I don’t know. That was pretty metal.

G: You guys are sick.

…

Ok: Oh, hang on, what is she doing to me?

H: Oh, no.

Ca: I have a feeling that she’s wiping Sayaka’s memories.

Ok: I did not consent to this!

Op: None of us did.

H: I’m starting to…I’m really starting to dislike where this is-Wait, did I just get beaned by a tomato?

Ch: Her own familiars threw it. That is some deep self-loathing.

H: What is it going to take? When will you finally be satisfied?

Op: Starting to have second thoughts?

H: I already did. Look, I’m not going say I didn’t enjoy what I-Damn. What she did to Kyubey. But brainwashing everyone is too far!

G: Homulilly…

H: And she is just playing into the whole “Devil” thing way too hard! Oh, look at me, I’m so edgy, I’m dancing around in a skanky black dress calling myself evil! Why don’t you get a pipe organ going while you’re at it?

G: I liked the dress, though…

Ch: Would this be a bad time to point around that they again have me prancing around in the background like the idiot child I’ve been made out to be?

H: Yes. You’ve had your turn to complain about your other self. Now it’s mine.

…

Op: And…memories gone!

Ok: So, wait, did I just never die now? Are all my cool Archangel powers gone?

Ca: It does seem to be-

G: Oh! Hitomi.

Ok: And violin-boy. Super.

Op: Well, they’re not surprised to see you, so I guess literally everything got wiped away.

G: Look, she’s crying! She still cares about them!

Ok: Well, yeah. They were my friends. Er, still are, I guess.

Op: At least you’ve moved on. Hey, wait, are we still together?

Ok: Oh, if Homura wiped that out, then I going to be so…

…

Ch: Your teacher is still on that bullshit.

Ca: Nice to know some things never change.

H: Is there…Is there a specific reason why Homura’s in the class? She literally rewrote the universe and set herself up as its new Dark God. She doesn’t have to go to school!

Op: Besides, with all that timelooping she’s done, she ought to have enough credits to graduate any university a dozen times over.

Ok: Pretty sure doing and redoing the same section in your textbook over and over again doesn’t equal a degree’s worth of knowledge.

G: Oh, wait, what? Why am I…

Ch: Did…Hang on, wasn’t Homura the transfer student?

G: I guess…she switched our places?

H: Why does she looks so maliciously bored, though? Isn’t this what she wanted?

Ch: Finally got the whole universe rearranged just how she wants, and it still feels like she’s just going through the motions.

…

Op: Well, give Madoka credit. Day one and she’s already assembled a harem.

Ok: Jealous much?

Op: Nah. Mine’s bigger and less…underaged.

G: You have a harem?

Ch: Have you seen the girls at her studio fawn over her?

Ok: It’s the suits.

Op: And the swagger. Ladies love a confident woman who knows how to dress.

G: Wait, a grade-schooler? Did that girl just say Madoka looks like a grade-schooler?

Ch: Um, yes?

G: Well, she’s wrong! I am definitely not a kid!

Ok: Well, your style is a little more grown-up than Madoka’s is. And hey, she really is like fourteen, so that’s technically a kid.

G: Not a grade-schooler, though! And I’m the same age as those girls are! Um, I mean, she is.

Op: Hey, Homulilly. Wouldn’t that mean-

H: There is no force in this universe or any other than could compel me to get involved in this conversation.

Op: Noted.

…

Op: And the Queen Bee arrives to scatter off the competition.

G: Oh, thank goodness.

Ok: Come on. Don’t you want a bunch of pretty girls as admirers?

G: No! They were being weird!

H: Yes, because Homura is so much better.

Op: Wow. You soured on her fast!

H: If she had just stuck to regaining Madoka and ruining Kyubey then it would at least be understandable. But now she’s brainwashing people, erasing their memories, and changing their lives to create her perfect world. That’s too far.

Ok: Um, would I sound crazy if I said that I still kind of get it?

=everyone stares at her=

Ok: Okay, just hear me out. I know what she’s doing is fucked up. But look at just how much she’s been jerked around by literally everyone and everything. No matter what she did, no matter how hard she fought, no matter what she suffered and sacrificed, it was ruined by stuff that she couldn’t control. So she snapped and took all the control. I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t at least get it.

Ch: Um, can’t say I really disagree, but did you catch the part about her switching up Madoka’s life so Madoka was the one who was gone for a long time?

Ok: Yeah?

Ch: So, wouldn’t that meant that she kind of erased Madoka and Sayaka’s friendship? Maybe as a way to get Sayaka permanently out of the way?

Ok: Oh. Oh, wow.

H: That’s what I mean. She’s…basically playing dolls with all of you. And while I do still understand it, it doesn’t really justify any of it.

Ca: Maybe this isn’t about what’s morally right or wrong. Maybe it’s not about good guys or bad guys. Maybe it’s about what happens when someone is unfairly pushed too far for too long and is never allowed to win.

…

Ok: They’re just really driving in the whole creepy vibe, aren’t they?

H: Was that closeup of her mouth really necessary?

Op: You know, for someone who literally rewrote the universe to give herself what she always wanted, you’d think she’d be enjoying it more.

Ok: Um…phrasing.

Op: That’s not what I mean! I mean, why is she being so weirdly distant and standoffish? She got the Madoka that she wanted, everything that was in the way now isn’t, literally nothing can keep her from finally making this…whatever it is work. So why is she acting so weird about it?

Ch: Well, if I had to guess, maybe she doesn’t know how to do it any other way? I mean, she’s done the whole Reset Time, Protect Madoka thing for so long, she probably can’t turn it off.

H: Also, she hates herself.

Ok: Wow.

H: I mean it. Remember that tomato? She hates herself for what she did, so she can’t even let herself enjoy it! This is her first meeting with the new Madoka, and she’s already sabotaging things!

Op: Damn.

Ch: That’s a good point. And didn’t she also do the same thing back in her witch’s labyrinth? I mean, that also was her version of a perfect world.

G: That’s sad. She deserves so much better.

H: Well, maybe she did…

G: She still does! Candeloro was right. She got pushed too far!

…

Ch: Oh, hang on. Is she remembering?

Op: Well, here’s a twist.

H: That got reaction out of Homura. She definitely didn’t expect this!

G: So am I going to get my powers back?

=cooldown hug=

G: Oh. Guess not.

Ok: Wait, did you want her to remember? Because that would probably lead to a fight!

Ch: God, can you imagine what that fight would look like? Probably rip the world to shreds.

H: I don’t think they would fight, even then.

Op: How would you resolve this, then?

H: I…am very glad that I don’t actually have to come up with an answer to that question.

Ch: …so, are the ribbons symbolic of something, or…

…

Ok: Is there a word for when something is really sad but also really fucked-up in a disturbing sort of way?

Op: The Rebellion Story.

Ch: =snorts back laughter=

Ca: And the sun sets on an oblivious city.

Ok: Oh, hello! Is that us meeting?

Op: Thanks for spilling my pocky.

Ok: No matter what the universe, nothing can keep us apart!

Ch: Aaannnddd a bunch of random familiars, just hanging out!

H: I’m thinking that they’re Homura’s minions now.

Ch: Oh. Great. Me.

Op: About to be crushed by cheese. How appropriate.

Ca: No, I’m there to save you! So we can be together as well!

=everyone stares=

Ca: Granted, in a purely…platonic sense. Because…I got nothing.

Ch: Shoulda just let me get crushed.

Ok: It’s how you always wanted to go.

…

Ch: Okay, that way to Good Morning, and that way to the Country of Sweets?

Ok: I kind of wanna see what that second one is like.

Op: I’m more interested in Good Morning. Is the whole place just perpetually stuck in the AM hours?

G: Oh! It’s my family!

Op: Well, at least you’re all back together and…about to get crushed by all those boxes. Seriously, what’s with huge piles of stuff just tumbling down in slow motion?

H: Maybe Homura messed up the gravity settings.

Ok: Um, what’s that spinning thing above the city?

Ch: Big Sister is watching you!

Op: And the Godoka statue. Because symbolism.

Ok: And…Wow, it’s over!

H: Thank! God.

Ok: Oka.

=Homulilly glares=

Ok: Sorry.

Ch: And roll credits!

Op: This song is way too cheery for what we were just subjected to.

Ok: And that’s not even getting to the visuals. Did the people who put this together even watch the film?

…

Op: Oh. An after-credits scene. That’s neat.

H: Oh, damn it.

Ok: Hey, it’s you!

H: No, it’s not!

Ch: Is there a reason why that hill has half of itself just missing?

H: Is there a reason why Homura set her chair all the way on the edge?

Ca: And the rat is here. Fantastic.

Op: Oh. More dancing. That’s-WOW!

Ok: Oh-ho-ho! Kyubey got fucked up!

H: At least she did that. I’ll give her that much.

G: Wait, huh?

Op: Um…

Ok: Did Homura just take a swan dive off a cliff?

Ch: More of a long tilt, and…Um.

H: …well, it’s not like it’ll kill her.

Op: Yeah, but I still have many questions.

Ch: It’s probably symbolic of her paradoxical self-loathing. Here she is, finally having gained everything she ever wanted, her greatest enemy lies defeated while she dances in victory with the symbol of her newfound power, and she caps it off by symbolically committing suicide. You know, like her familiars did earlier!

Op: No, I get that, it’s just…why?

Ch: I just said why.

Op: Not the writers, her! Why did she just off a cliff? It can’t hurt her, she’ll just end up lying at the bottom looking foolish. Why?

Ok: Probably just to be dramatic.

Op: Kind of pointless to do it without an audience.

Ch: You mean like us? We’re watching.

Op: Yeah, but does she know that?

Ch: I don’t know. Probably.

=silence=

Ok: Did anyone else feel a sharp chill running down your back?

…

Ch: Well, that’s…that’s the movie. That’s a look of how we all would have ended up if you all didn’t turn into witches while fighting me.

Ok: Hey, Candy. You said I was the first one to witch out, and that set the rest of you off, right?

Ca: Uh, r-right.

Ok: Okay. Well, you’re welcome.

=simultaneous sigh=

Op: Any thoughts?

H: Plenty. But most of them really should be told to a therapist.

Ch: Okay, I’m tearing the bandage off. Homura. Let’s talk about her.

G: Don’t.

H: No, we should. And you guys don’t need to remind me that it wasn’t really me. I know that. But it’s still pretty hard to watch.

G: What happened to her was horrible! No one should ever be pushed to that point.

Ok: Yeah, not gonna lie, I still don’t know how I feel about what she did. I mean, on the one hand, I do kind of get it, and sure, everyone’s alive again and all happy together, but on the other…

H: I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. I’m glad that she finally made Kyubey pay. But I can’t excuse what she did to all of you. She stole your memories and rebuilt your lives the way she wanted them to be, in a manner that was convenient for her. That’s just…not okay.

Ch: I think Candeloro had an interesting point earlier. Maybe Homura had been pushed to a point where moral judgments don’t really apply anymore.

H: Wait, so you’re saying that if someone suffers enough, they should have free reign to do whatever they please?

Ch: Of course not. I’m saying her case is unique. And it kind of is outside of our jurisdiction to judge.

H: But it was your lives she was playing with! Sayaka and Madoka were best friends, and she just took all of that away! Everything you had all fought for, everything you had endured-

Op: Lilly, she’s not saying Homura was justified, she’s saying that this whole situation is way out of her wheelhouse. It’s like trying to judge the Ideal Witches from our limited perspective.

Ca: I don’t know. I can think of a few things they can be judged for.

H: Well, I’d say even Homura agrees with me, seeing how much she still hated herself.

Ok: I’m just saying I can’t see her as evil, or whatever she’s calling herself.

Ch: There’s this saying I read once. ‘A child neglected by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth.’ Basically, it was a cautionary tale about mistreating someone for too long.

H: But who was mistreating her? Like I said, I’m totally on board with her screwing over the Incubators. It’s just what she did to her friends that I have a problem with!

G: Then I guess what happened to all of us was for the best. We avoided that fate. And Homura, Madoka, Sayaka, Kyoko, Mami, and, um…D-Did we get a name for you?

Ch: I’d like to be left out of that list.

G: Right. Well, whoever you were, we all got our happy ending. None of that stuff happened!

Ch: Yeah, uh, speaking of which: fuck that kid!

Op: Wow. Speaking of self-loathing.

Ch: Ugh, it’s just so…You all were recognizable. But for me, they went with literally the most annoying depiction possible!

Op: Uh, who is ‘they’?

Ch: The writers!

Op: Right. The writers. Who are writing out our lives.

=long silence=

Ch: Well, those are some fucked-up implications.

Ok: Well, on the bright side, I’d like to say at the very least, Sayaka and Kyoko made for an awesome duo. So they got that much right!

G: I wish I had more to do.

Ok: You were literally God.

G: But I didn’t even know that until the end! And then only for like thirty seconds!

H: See what I mean?

Op: I liked the Cake Song. Can we rewatch the part with the Cake Song?

Ch: No.

Ok: I’m still going to go to bat for the soundtrack, though. There were some awesome tunes.

Op: Cakey. Cakey. Round cakey…

Ok: And some utterly bizarre ones.

Ch: The animation was fantastic. Trippy, but fantastic.

Op: That gun battle was amazing.

H: That part was cool.

Ca: And who won?

H: You’re not going to let that go, are you?

G: Well, as…upsetting as the end might have been, the story isn’t finished. It does seem like there’s supposed to be a follow-up. So maybe all those problems will be fixed!

H: I hope so.

Ok: Well, until then, I guess we can go get caught up and watch the show-

Everyone: NO!

[jesterofalltrades]

The thing is the Winchesters final was so close to being perfect. Because like it wouldn’t have made sense to bring Cas back there. To have Cas and dean reunite in the middle of that mess. We need to see them have time to talk about the confession to have that closure. The thing that just ruins the final for me is that Dean is still dead.

Dean shouldn’t be dead. He deserves a long happy life and he never got that. That’s what ruins it for me.

And I trust Jensen, I know that Dean won’t stay dead, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less, it doesn’t numb the pain or erase the anger.

I’m not going to move on with how dirty the spn writers did dean until it’s undone.

[amakai]

Dealing with pet loss...

My almost 14 year old cat passed away last night...and while I've had pets die before, his has been hitting me harder than I ever expected. I didn't want to hand his body over to our vet techs to get him cremated. I wanted to just keep holding his stiff scrawny body forever. I spent three hours in my bathroom last night, watching him fade away and it's something I wish I could erase from my mind forever at this point because seeing him suffer and not being able to do ANYTHING at all to help ease his pain felt like torture.

As soon as he lost his bowls and threw up the remainder of the food he'd eaten, I knew it was coming. I held him in my hands, just feeling his heart slow to a stop and I just broke down. I've had him since he was a teeny little kitten that my mom brought home from the Safeway parking lot in 2010. I know he had a good long life and I pray he found comfort in knowing I was there with him till the end. He would have been 14 in October. I've never had a pets death hit me as hard as it his did...and I'm sure it's because I was there for his last few moments of life but my main question is for tips/advice on dealing with the pain of this loss. I've cried more over losing him than I did over losing both of my grandparents and it feels like every fiber of my being is hurting.

Here's some pics of him...his name was Kage (ca-gay) which means shadow cuz he always chased his as a kitten.

[vaicomcas]

I was reading this, A spell erases all of Castiel’s bad memories—which happens to include everything related to the Winchesters.  (the fic is set in season 12)

and it got me wondering what if the empty did this?

its dosen't effect Cas's grace like in the fic but it calms him and puts him to sleep.

so when Jack comes, Empty has to let Cas go because Jack needs the guidance from the angel and they know without the Shadow won't find its own peace

but it dosen't give cas his memories back so he forgets al the wars the tourture the fights and pain and even a lot of memories with jack. not all of them were actively bad but were shadowed by a lot that caused cas hurt.

Jack is torn betweent telling Cas everything and not wanting to hurt him.

and how do you think it will be resolved?

That's a tough one. It's kind of deep, and I am going to answer honestly, and hope it doesn't offend.

I have mixed feelings about Jack and I can't particularly relate to him, so it's hard for me to imagine how Jack would act. It's also difficult to think about Jack knowing all of Cas' past in the first place. That in and of itself is very painful to me (for Cas-- I don't know how to explain it but I think Cas would be horried if Jack knew about his past for many many reasons).

But if the question is how I think it should be resolved?

No question I would restore Castiel's memory. He had his mind wiped by Naomi, he doesn't need it happen to him again. He said to Dean, "what do you prefer, freedom or happiness?" Castiel would always choose freedom and agency over happiness. I am not trying to say in real life it isn't valid for people who experienced trauma to want to have peace and forget their experience. This is not real life, and the version of Castiel in my mind remembers everything, feels all the pain, and rises above it all like a phoenix out of fire.

It's a terrible thing to say but it's not happiness (per se) I want for Cas. More than anything I want him to WIN. I want him to be the hero in his own story. And I don't want peace and happiness bestowed upon him by his God-like son.

How do you it think it will be resolved? What would you want for Cas?

Again with our linked mind: incidentally there is a recent chapter of my ongoing fic where Cas went to the Empty to offer the Shadow a deal (sacrificing himself again for others). The Shadow erased his memory and made him watch his own life's story (and Cas of course gave his compassion and understanding to "the angel" and was outraged by the injustice he suffered). Then it gave his memory back. I think I proposed this in a post once and now I wrote it in a chapter.

[jumblejen]

We Were Always Going to End Up Together - Ch 4

Suptober 22, Day 4: Wicked

On AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42237885/chapters/106557654

This chapter is really just Dean ruminating about his poor dating choices. A little angsty and quite short. There are mentions of some fleeting details of his shitty relationships, so feel free to skip if that's not your jam. Hoping to get Chapter 5 (where Dean and Cas will go on their 1st date) done soon.

Chapter 4: Wicked

It didn’t take long for Dean’s happy anticipation of his date with Castiel to turn into a swamp of anxiety about Charlie’s words and his intimate knowledge of exactly what she meant. He had a penchant for dating people that were a little… wicked. And unfortunately that meant that quite a few of them were actually awful people instead of just being a lot of fun in the sack.

Dean has tread this particular mental pathway enough times that it’s worn a groove and once he’s on it, it will take awhile to get back off it. It started with Lisa, which of course it did, because she was the first time he thought that maybe this commitment thing could work out for him. He’d fallen in love before, but this was something that he could see how maybe they could stick it out forever. Lisa hadn’t been wicked. Bendy, yes, and easy to be with, and her kid was amazing, but she didn’t really do wicked.

It was after Lisa that things started to go completely off the rails for a time.

Nick Munroe was a classic manipulator who seemed to be exactly who Dean needed to get over Lisa, until it turned out he’d only been trying to hustle Dean out of his meager savings. Dean thought Sam was going to hunt the guy down and finish him off, but in the end they’d filed a police report and Dean had nursed his broken heart with a lot of alcohol and a lot of hookups.

Then there was Abbadon, who left Dean’s self-esteem in tatters. Lee who had been a good friend when they were younger, but ended up not knowing how to do anything other than work angles and use people up when they reconnected. Anna tried to convert him into some religious group with a fervor that shone like fever in her face. He hadn’t been surprised later to find out that the group was under investigation for people going missing and the word ‘cult’ started showing up in all the articles.

And Benny… well Dean still thought well of Benny and kept in sporadic touch with him. They’d had a bit of a rough and tumble relationship and Sam never liked Benny, but they’d parted friends and were still friends today. Benny was no saint, but he never would have hurt Dean. Sam was never going to accept that, and it drove a wedge into the relationship until Dean was either going to leave Benny or walk away from his brother and while he’d been sorely tempted, he didn’t care about Benny enough to make it work.

That left his dance card wide open and Dean filled it with whoever was available, his judgement getting looser the more he drank. Dean was embarrassed to admit how little he cared who the body was on him most nights when the whiskey’d been flowing.

Cole had been the last straw and the wake up all Dean wished he’d never needed. He’d been controlling and tried to excuse away his anger issues due to his military service. Once Dean realized that this path was heading with a one-way trip to the worst parts of his childhood memories, Dean’d broken it off, stopped drinking so much and tried to figure out what it was he really wanted.

Reaching the end of that list once again, Dean sighed. He couldn’t erase the past or undo any of the fairly egregious mistakes he’d made. But maybe the future could be better. Again, he thought about his upcoming date and he felt some of those old cobwebs clear out. Dean could still feel the intensity of those eyes, the magnetic pull of Castiel. With a huff, Dean dismissed all those old worries. As much as he could live in the past with the best of them, he wanted to see what happened with Cas. See if there were sparks when they were just two ordinary folks meeting for dinner.

Plus Charlie was right. Cas was dreamy.

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 134

Let It Bleed

“Let It Bleed”

Plot Description: Dean’s worst nightmare comes true when a demon kidnaps Lisa and Ben to get to him

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: sounds like H P Lovecraft was the only one who would be in trouble, sooooo I’m good

Noooooo, not Lisa’s new boyfrienddddd. I knew nothing about him, but she seemed happy with him. And the demons instantly killed him

Love how the summary said demons but didn’t mention that one of them was Crowley himself!!

They’ll call an angel who doesn’t even like them before calling Cas, now ☹️

So Lovecraft’s “open a door to another dimension” party had wretched vibes, apparently (aside from the obvious “being hosted by h p lovecraft”). Everyone in attendance died or disappeared within a year of it

God. Damn. Dean’s just ganking demons left and right trying to get info

Oh you pissed off Cas now, Crowley. This was supposed to be a partnership.

How is Balthazar knowing this going to change things? We wouldn’t be getting this scene where he confronts Cas about working with Crowley and trying to get the souls from purgatory to win against Raphael if there’s no follow up (right?) So what’s he gonna do

Oh this poor old man. His mom was working for lovecraft at the time of the party. He’s the only one who survived til now, and…Bobby’s the first person to express sympathy for this 83 year old man who lost his mom when he was 9 and then got locked in a mental institution because he told the truth about what he saw

Bet his mom looked like Eve when she slipped through purgatory’s doors

God this break up is so hard. Castiel’s doing EVERYTHING he can to make up for lying, but Dean doesn’t wanna hear it. Neither of them will stand down from their positions.

Fuck. I was hoping we’d see the dragon professor again from the preview, but I wasn’t counting on it.

So…I was wrong milfy professor is the old dude’s mom. Whatever snuck through the door that night has been possessing her for 75 years and barely aged a day

I’m pretty sure Balthazar doesn’t make it too far past this season (if he even makes it to the end of this one). That’s what you get for being a double agent

Man, they’re so lucky that demon didn’t yell as he got killed. Would have fucked everything up for them

Ah damn. A demon’s possessed Lisa…it makes sense

It’s been a WHILE since they exorcised a demon with an incantation

As much as Lisa and Ben getting kidnapped was on the list as worst nightmares, I think Lisa getting hurt and dragging Ben into his line of work on the same night is worse

HE HAD CAS ERASE THEIR MEMORIES OF HIM FUUUUUCK

What did you do to the professor, Cas?? Where did you take her???

“Been On My Mind…”: Nope. One last chance.

[maipareshaan]

I do take Dean kicking Cas out with no help ooc and its one of the only few ooc things i consider that i don't analyse Dean through it and my headcanon to make the situation replicate the results aka Cas human hardship and fun angst, which is why the show did it and is a perfectly good setting, is that Dean gave help and offered more help and that Cas went through it and then was too hurt and prideful to ask for help again, and its not a character bias thing i think it makes sense writing wise to get that arc of Cas going through human suffering and its not easy to ask for help from someone who hurt you and its not easy for your pride to not be hurt when you were an angel and didn't need help but do now. There is a gap with residence, they have cabins and Dean didn't tell Cas so again they could have made it so that Dean told him of one but angels had found him.

So they had no reason to make Dean ooc especially when what they want as a result which is that storyline of human Cas struggling or just getting rid of Cas in anycase.

Also it did happen so people are allowed to have feelings and opinions about it i personally don't care and don't care if people are bitter or if they ignore it, i pretty much just chuck it out.

And sometimes even if things don't make sense the story should be considered imo, like Dean erasing Lisa's memory says something about him even though the act makes zero sense due to its consequence, but that's not ooc in the same way, i think and i wouldn't throw out Dean's characterisation.