#dean and depression

[katherinehoughtoncastle47]

[beatsheetromanroy]

potentially very divisive opinion but i would rather take alive and non canon destiel than reciprocation in heaven. i don’t want this story to end in death i don’t want the so called happy ending if it’s not on earth do you hear me andrew dabb!!!!! do you hear me!!

[babygirlwolverine]

the thing is, dean thought it would be hard… he agonized over it for years. he wanted it… wanted it badly. couldn’t stop himself from staring, licking his lips and staring at cas’ mouth; imagining how it would feel to slot their lips together and kiss the angel until their was no air left in his lungs. if he leaned over just slightly, he could feel those lips against his… but kissing cas always sounded easier in theory then actually doing it.

except, it turned out, kissing cas was the easiest thing dean had ever done in his life.

sitting at the kitchen table, cas had just taste-tested the batter for a cake dean was making for jack’s birthday. cas was smiling at him in that fond way that lit up his eyes and lowered his eyebrows; so tender and soft. settling into the seat next to cas, dean moved to slide his hand gently across cas’ jaw; cupping his cheek. cas’ eyes darted down to dean’s palm, calculated for a second, and melted into an even softer expression as he moved to rest his own hand on dean’s wrist.

dean softly stroked his thumb over cas’ cheekbone… and that was it. leaning in the rest of the way to brush his lips against cas’ was like coming home. cas let out this soft little hum and then he was kissing dean back, so earth-shatteringly good as their lips melded together. and when dean broke the kiss, drawing in fast shaky breaths as his lungs burned and his lips ached to chase cas’ mouth again for another taste, cas brushed his nose against dean’s and rested their foreheads against each other. “you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for that,” cas murmured.

dean’s heart lurched in his chest, and he cupped cas’ other cheek and pulled him back in for another kiss. “best not make you wait any longer then,” dean said against cas’ mouth as he kissed cas again and again… and again.

[phrysic]

hi im back

[sheepstiel]

can we stop saying spn was a bad show as a whole

[winchestergifs]

So what were you looking for?

[acecroft]

You're not hungry, Dean… because inside, you're already dead.

[jasmines-library]

Let It Linger

WHUMPTOBER 2023: Prompt: shock/dissociation.

Fandom: Supernatural

Summary: after a rough hunt resurfaces some unwanted memories, you slip into your own mind. But Sam is there to help you through it.

Warnings: Dissociation, ptsd, mild depression, character death.

Word count: 1.1K (short but sweet.)

Note: not too keen on this one but it was written in a hurry. Not my best work - not proof read.

MASTERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER WORKS

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

The hunt couldn’t have gone more wrong. 

You had been hunting a shtriga; a nasty, humanoid creature that feeds off of a human’s lifeforce- usually a childs. This one had attached itself to a young girl no more than five or six. The issue with shrtrigas was that they were hard to kill, only vulnerable once feeding. So, much to your reluctance, the three of you were forced to rely on allowing the creature to feed on the girl so that you could lace it full of iron rounds. 

You watched through the crack in the wardrobe as the window slid open, pushed by a bony, tree-like hand. The shtriga floated across the room, positioning itself above the small girl. You watched wide eyed as her life drained out of her body slowly, white tendrils drifting into the air like smoke and into the creature's scarred face. You pushed the door open and slipped out of the small space, cocking your pistol and standing behind the shtriga. You aimed, finger poised on the cold and worn trigger. But then your eyes settled on the pained expression of her fragile body as the creature continued to feed. And you froze. 

The creature loomed above the girl who lay helpless in the bed before you. It was tall and shrivelled with dark eyes. You watched frozen as the wisps rose from her body and tried into the creature's mouth. You had only stepped out for a minute to get some water. 

You screamed, a loud blood curdling scream, but still it made no move other than to hover closer to the girl. She shared some of the same features as you, your nose, your lips. Her eyes were different though. You had always admired her eyes and the way that their hues shifted as they hit the light and how they lit up when she smiled. Though now, as you stood helpless, her eyes were almost completely white, bloodshot and rolling into the back of her head. Her lips were parted as she tried to suck in air that refused to enter her lungs. You would never forget the way her body slumped back onto her pink sheets as the creature slunk back out of the window. Despite her whimpers and weak cries of your name your body refused to move. It took too long for you to snap out of your own mind and rush forwards towards your sister's limp body. She trembled as you lifted her into your arms. You rocked back and forth slowly, whispering assurances into her ear and pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. By the time the denim-clad man and his son appeared in the doorway, her heartbeat had already stopped. 

The men exchanged glances before taking a step towards you. It took a while to coax anything out of you between your sobs, but after pushing they managed to get a name.

“Y/N”

“Y/N?”

“Y/N?!” 

Dean was yelling at you. At some point he had scrambled out from under the bed and had gripped your shoulders tight. You flinched at the gunshot as Sam fired at the creature which howled and slunk away. Your eyes shifted from staring vacantly to Dean’s greens. Your pistol shook in your hand, so you dropped it, sending it clattering to the floor. 

The room was silent. Too silent. 

Pushing away from Dean you moved towards the bed where the girl lay morbidly still. 

“No…No…”

Taking the girl in your arms, you cradled her head. Tears spilled from your eyes. You had fucked up. You had frozen and it had cost this girl her life. 

~~~

You were silent the whole way back to the bunker. Just staring blankly out of the rain covered windows of the Impala, knees hugged closely to your chest. The brothers both cast glances from the front seat, and had even called your names a few times, but you were seemingly oblivious to the world around you. 

When you arrived back at the bunker, you almost mechanically retreated into your room to curl up on your bed. 

Time didn’t seem to move. Nothing seemed to matter. You didn’t feel like you. The world around you had begun to feel like one giant blur. Your body didn’t feel like your body. You felt as though you were moving and seeing through one giant lens or through another person. Nothing seemed sane and quite frankly you didn’t even care anymore. You couldn’t stop thinking about that girl- about your little sister all those years ago. 

You fiddled absentmindedly with your fingers, picking out the dirt from beneath your nails. You were laying on top of the covers with your knees pulled up to your chest. You weren’t sure how much time had passed before there was a gentle knock on the door. It barely registered in your mind and you made no move to get up to answer it, only continuing to stare blankly white wall opposite. Your lack of response made Sam furrow his brow

“Y/N?” His tone was tender but cautious. 

Your eyes shifted towards the heavy sound of his boots padding across the floor. He knelt down beside you on the bed, calling your name again. There was still no reply. You moved your head when you felt his hand enclose around yours, warm and calloused against your skin. He had those puppy dog eyes set about his face as he studied you. 

For a while you said nothing, just clutched onto his hand. Sam didn’t leave your side as you tried to fight through your own mind. 

“Sam?”

He twisted round to face you resting his chin on the mattress so that they were inline with yours. You were silent for a moment after that. Struggling to think of what to say next. You felt a lack of control within your body. It felt like you were learning to use your body all over again. 

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled. Tears cascaded down your cheeks. “I couldn’t… I just couldn’t.”

Sam wiped away your stray tears. 

“It reminded me too much of her.”

“It’s okay, kiddo. We can’t save everyone.”

“But if i hadn’t-”

“Shh.” Sam cooed. “It’s okay.”

“Sam… stay with me. Please.”

“Of course.”

“No, I mean really stay with me.” You manoeuvred your body to face him. He could see the way your bloodshot eyes struggled to settle on anything for too long. He could see the tracks that your tears had left as they rolled down your cheeks. “Promise me you’ll never leave me…please.”

“I promise.”

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

<- DAY SEVEN ⛤ DAY NINE ->

🏷️ Taglist:

@senjoritanana

@deans-spinster-witch

@amaryllis23

[liahleeh]

Não qro botar um cropped e reagir. Eu qro é morrer... N me levem a sério ok!!!

[mixtpecas]

destiel - obsessed with you

my friends, they just don't understand, they cannot see my point of view

they say it's gotten out of hand, that i'm obsessed with you

dean "i prayed to you, cas. every night!" winchester vs cas "i did it, all of it, for you" tiel

[criiitter]

traumatized bitch boy cheering up his sad angel bf

[ardentpoop]

they’re so silly.

[dreamytfw]

The only thing funnier than Destiel losing the exact same poll twice is them losing even worse the 2nd time around.

[cleargladiatorchild]

Supernatural is quite literally a show where the main purpose/message of the show is pointless.

Now before yall hound on me hear me out. SPN is a show about defying the narrative, throwing out destiny and making your life truly your own, but the characters never really get that. See we as the audience play an important role in the story, We're like the fans of the SPN books in the show, we're continuously and endlessly watching their lives go down, and for as long as the show goes on, they haven't broken free of the narrative and since the show ends in their deaths, they never really do. It's all still up to the writers, their story still isn't their own, the only way the show could have ended and the purpose be fulfilled is if it ended with some big event and then the show abruptly stops, because that means they have broken free of the writers and the story, they get to live their lives out and have no interference from the audience or the writers. Chuck said that nothing ever really ended and he was right; we can never see how the Winchester story ends (assuming it would) if they are to break free of the higher power, because if they do, then the show, the narrative, is over and they can be free. So if I could end SPN how I want/think it should go, (hey now before it ends I still think we should have gotten a destiel kiss) I think it should have ended with team free will (2.0) killing Chuck, the screen goes black, we hear Sam say "so what now?" and then we hear Dean say "We move on." Then Cass finally says "We live." The rest of their story would be left up to interpretation, do they keep hunting? Do they settle down? What happens to heaven? Does Jack still become God? We don't know. And that's the point.

[little-blue-heart]

My sunday started to feel like this.

[alexiscstl]

I was casually looking for a fic to read on AO3, the moment I saw religious imagery and symbolism tag next to handjobs I knew I was set