#one of the character's name is Lucifer and you know quite clearly meant to be our main antagonist | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

starshipsofstarlord · 4 years

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World Revelations

@etherealsxnder

Warnings; spoilers for season 13, mentions of death, angst, lack of hope, some Alex Calvert x reader, and tiny bit of jack x reader, swearing, brief illusions to sex, angry brothers, mentions of a sex scene, insecurities, online hate, protective winchester brothers, apocalypse world, major character death, lucifer

(Y/A/N) – Your Acting Name.

A/N; it’s a little bit different from the request, so sorry about that, but I hope that any one that reads this enjoys. Also sorry about the wait, I had bad writers block, but when I started writing this it sorta figured itself out and I may have got carried away. Feel free to tell me what you think ☺️

“Look, I am not going to some other world to help stop Michael. But I can help you in another way, one where none of us get harmed.” Gabriel shrugged, reducing Sam’s expression to confusion. The archangel had felt like their last hope at retrieving their mother, into delving into the apocalypse world, and here he was, turning him down.

He had tried his very best to make the celestial being better, and here he was, talking again, able to use his grace rather than have it removed and syringed into a demon’s veins. However, he still refused, and the hunter had no other plan in forcing Gabriel into helping. This was the last shot, and it had been blown.

But however could he still help? This was the primary problem that had to be solved, there was no other route they could take to bring their family back together. And that was all that mattered in this life, saving people, remaining together.

“What are you talking ab-“ Before Sam could complete his question, Gabriel set him with a poised glare, and snapped his magical fingers, a spark of electric blue grace sparking from the action. That was all Sam saw before he felt himself transported, and once he opened his eyes, he remained in the bunker, however there were cameras around him, and an entire filming crew.

Gabriel had sent him to the other life, another world in which he presumed that he was called Jared. “What the hell Sammy?” Dean barked from beside him, twisting and turning his sights around, upon realising that although this looked like their home, it was an alternate version of it. A set, made of fake walls and truthless literature that was not at all necessary in this peaceful, monster-less realm. “Son of a bitch!”

“Cut!” One of the cameramen called out, shaking his head exasperatedly at the line said wrong. Jensen had been doing so well, and Jensen seemed to have slipped far too into character, to the point where he had forgotten his lines. “Do you need to see the script again, or would you rather take a short break?”

“I’ll go for the break.” Dean confirmed, grabbing Sam’s forearm and hastily dragging him from the onlookers, and towards which he assumed was his, well, Jensen’s trailer. It looked pretty much the same as last time. “Gabriel?” He asked, rightly assuming that the blame of this mishap ordeal was down to the glowing figure.

“He refused to help us open a rift.” Sam licked his lips, his eyes jutting around the luxurious space. “And then he snapped his fingers, and we were here.” Here, another earth. However this was not their home, it was a disfigured writing of it, if anything, it was worse than the books Chuck wrote. There were more fans, and more complications that came along with being here in place of the actors.

“We don’t have time for his tricks.” Sighed Dean, raking his hair with his rough hand. “Parading around as a painted whore is not on my agenda, all I care about is getting mum back, we have to get home quick.”

“Dean, I don’t think that this is a trick…” Sam spoke to his elder brother, in thought of Gabriel’s words. “He said he could help us in another way. I don’t think he meant taking us away from the problem, there must be something else.” No matter how much he rolled the idea around his head, he could come to no conclusion.

“What?” There was already plenty on the man’s mind, he didn’t need another incident coming their way. Dean was to begin speaking again, until a knock rapped against the door to his double’s trailer, intruding his mindset. Him and Sam shared a glance and frown until Dean called whomever was on the other side in, and to their dismay, he looked exactly like Castiel.

Misha Collins. Last time they had visited this place, he had died, but the return of the real selves must have somewhat fixed the timeline, he looked well, even if he still was dressed as their angelic friend. “Hey, I was seeing if you are ready for the scene tomorrow.”

“Scene? Which scene?” ‘Jared’ asked the colleague of his false identity, unaware of the context in which Misha spoke in. Dean only huffed and rolled his eyes, until Misha spoke, and he froze, both the brothers understanding Gabriel’s meaning for sending them to this world.

“(Y/N)’s death scene. Apparently it’s gonna be quite emotional, and it’ll be strange after, not having the kid on set anymore.” It was a revelation, a nightmare that foreshadowed the truth in their own dimension.

“Thanks uh- Misha.” ‘Jensen’ rubbed his hand over his face, shocked by the oncoming doom. They had already lost far too many members in their makeshift hunter family, but this was different. This was their sister, whom they had protected and vouched to continue doing since the day she was born. And now the universe had this grand plan of cutting her young life short, and sending her to either heaven or hell, where so many people they loved already were.

“Do you know where um, (Y/A/N) is right now?” Sam asked, desperate to somehow convince her to remain on the show. It was the only way in which he could save his younger sibling, and he would, by the gods, do anything that he possibly could. Him and Dean had already had meetings with death himself, he couldn’t allow the new version to come and take you.

Billy would not compromise, she was intent on having a Winchester under her cloak, forever taken from life, never to return to the living. And they couldn’t take a chance, any chance on not getting (Y/N) back, she was a legacy as were they, but she was supposed to live on for longer. Their names would otherwise be nothing more than memories in the world of hunters, until they faded into distant and dead members of the community.

“In her trailer, I think. She’s rehearsing with Alexander I think.” The name that he mentioned was unfamiliar to the unfitting pair, but they spared no thought to it. Instead they sent him a quick smile before leaving the confines that they felt trapped in, and began their search for the actress of their sister.

“We have to change her mind Sammy. If she stays on the show, then our (Y/N) lives. It is the simplest solution.” Dean spoke as they walked through the lines of trailers, unable to find the name that they were searching for on any door. “Where the hell is her damn trailer?”

Sam squinted, until a name he had heard was seen on one of the doors. Alexander, whoever that was. Before he could even put any thought into his actions, he subconsciously knocked on the door, waiting a moment for an answer. And when the door opened, they were met with who looked like Jack, his hair a mess, and his shirt hanging over his shoulder, clearly put on in panic.

“What’s up guys, need something?” He scratched the back of his neck, impatient with the situation, considering the one that he had been interrupted from. A part of him feared that this was one of Jared’s infamous pranks, he had mostly been on the end of shifted lines, but worse could have been heading his way for all he knew.

Dean frowned at the sight of young man, it hardly felt right seeing the innocent boy that they knew with sex hair and slight bruises upon his neck. He cleared his throat, keeping up his expression, as he spoke to the boy. He had softened up to Jack, he was their kid in some ways, but this was no Nephilim, if anything it was worse, it was a man who impersonated they kid.

“Heard that uh, (Y/A/N) was running lines with you. Y’know where she is?” Alex’s eyes shifted slightly inside of his personal space, before everything was given away by a familiar giggle. It sounded the exact same as the one that often left (Y/N)’s mouth. Dean knew it, he would never be capable of mistaking it.

The noise had renegaded in his ears since she had been born, in the impala as John drove, through the halls of the bunker as her and Sam made jokes about his cholesterol. At the worst of times, before he knew that they existed, he liked to think that it was the voice of angel, she always guided him on the right path, and if she were to disappear from his life, he would sorely lose the track that he was hellbent on walking down.

And he could see her face now, as she tugged the sheet over her body. A frown sculpted her expression, as she looked exasperatedly between Alex whom had tried to lure the tall pair from the confines of his trailer, and the intruders who had barged carelessly in. It wouldn’t have mattered so much if her and Alexander had actually been running lines, however the situation explained more than enough of the fact that they indeed were not.

“Jared, Jensen, can you like, I don’t know, not cockblock me, for once in your elderly lives?” It felt peculiar, for both Sam and Dean. They knew that this was not their sister, but her calling them by other names was so foreign. Their skins crawled at the labelling, and it only reminded them farther of their cause, the reason that they were sent by an angelic being to be here in this very moment.

“I am also getting bored of it.” Alexander tilted his head, in agreement with (Y/A/N), who only grinned at his compliance to suit her opinions, and Dean could only roll his eyes, just like he did with Jack the majority of the time. “But it’s cool, but can we hurry this along, I mean not to be rude, but aren’t you guys supposed to be filming a scene in like five minutes?”

Sam cleared his throat, admittedly he did like Jack. The kid was sweet, however this was not him, it rather was a man who pretended to be a Nephilim for payment, and was bedding the doppelganger of his sister. If he were to see his sister and the devil’s child in such a compromising predicament, most people would assume he’d be the calm sibling, but they’d be wrong. He would go mad, and think of a way to keep the pair separate.

But luckily for them, there had never been such adult situations insinuated between their dear (Y/N) and Jack, or at least not that they were aware of. This riled Dean, and so he couldn’t help but feel like exploding. It angered him that any man had laid their bare and lustrous hands upon his youngest sibling. No one was to have that pleasure, she was supposed to remain innocent, even if she were legal.

“Seriously?! Jack of all people?!” He bellowed at (Y/A/N), shaking his head at their obvious exchange. If (Y/A/N) had any clothes on underneath the white sheet that hugged her body as she lay on the sofa, her instincts would have driven her over to Jensen and her palm would have met the side of his stubbly face.

“First of all, you need to start remembering Alex’s name, and that goes for Jared too. You can’t just keep calling him Jack, even after I’m done here and move onto my next project.” Her words, although not having the intent to, had the effect of triggering Sam’s goal, in-deliberately reminding him of their foremost goal. It was not to get angry at the characters that played them and their loved ones, it was to save someone that was incredibly important to their world.

“And second,” the woman in covering continued, “this isn’t exactly going to get me to stay on the goddamn show, if you barge in here, interrupting our privacy. If you don’t like what me and Alex are doing off screen, you sure aren’t going to like what is gonna go down between (Y/N) and Jack. Sometimes I do swear that you’re just like Sam and Dean.”

The jab she made at them struck nerves, but they knew that this was not the real her. It may have looked like (Y/N), but this was only a woman who played the part of her. “We’ve been trying to make you stay on the show?” Sam asked, his voice soft. He didn’t want to be harsh, she was already uncomfortable enough.

It was her unknowing that they were actually Sam and Dean that could be an element that they could use, a tool of convincing. “Yes, for weeks now.” (Y/A/N) sighed, pinching the point that was between her eyebrows. “And I’m getting tired of it, and overall, this character. I’ve played her for years on end, I think that her story should have a finishing point, a finale. I’m ready for bigger and brighter things, something that is not pretending to be a strong woman on set, and as soon as I walk away from the cameras, I go back to being weak.”

“I think you’re going to have to explain a little more if I’m going to get any of that.” Dean prompted, both him and Sam had turned away, giving the actress in the sheets the privacy to change. The shuffling of fabrics could be heard, they had been in worse situations with their sister, small motel rooms, of which they could usually only afford one in the past, helped nobody. And none of them received the personal space that should have been an outright human right.

“Of course neither of you understand.” Alex sighed, “she wants a smaller workspace, one where there aren’t so many eyes on her. The whole ordeal got out of hand, and now there are people online saying terrible things about her and I. Neither of you have made such a mistake, or had something so sacred and personal leaked on the internet. The things people say really digs in deep, she at least wants a break, can’t you understand that?”

“Wait, what got leaked?” Sam’s curiosity often informed him of things that he did not wish to be aware of, and this was one of their instances. Alex huffed and rolled his eyes, walking over to where (Y/A/N) was now fully clothed, and took a seat on the sofa beside her, their eyes meeting and mirroring smiles shining at one another.

The sight admittedly made Sam smile, but it made Dean feel internally sick. The sight of what looked like their sister and Jack fuelled a fire inside of him, he wanted his eyes to burn and the memory to be forever removed from his sights.

“Look, you play a pretty badass character, although I’d say Dean has a bit more kick to him.” The man himself chuckled, but no one joined in, so he continued through a forced smile, coming to sit down next to Alex, his ignorance to what happened there merely minutes ago encouraging his brother to cringe.

“But that’s not my only point, you’re here, whilst those sad souls that sit behind their computers all day waste their time typing crap. The life you have, the family that you have here, is worth more than the opinions of a few, invisible idiots, who are only jealous of everything that you have earned for yourself. Don’t breathe their toxicity win, because if you do, the bad guys win, and then you will only fade out of the spotlight and they’ll forget all about you, and all of the things they ever posted about you.”

Alex had been understanding through all of (Y/N)’s decision to leave the cast, although to begin with he had tried to convince her to stay. And it seemed out of all of them, it was Jensen that made her reconsider her options, he could see it behind her eyes, the unravelling of interest, the flickering of hope.

The only thing that the younger actor could not tell were that these were not Jensen’s words, they fell from the lips of Dean Winchester himself. A character that he knew of, and was an important symbol on the show that he was cast on. But it did not matter if he was not aware of that snippet, because it changed nothing, other than possibly (Y/A/N)’s mindful decision.

“You know what, you’re right Ackles. It’s not often that I say that, but the thought of leaving everyone here, settling for something that I have no connection to or history with, it is undermining. And I’m going to talk to Kripke, he’ll be over the moon with the consideration, however if he chooses that (Y/N) is to die as was planned due to my indecisiveness, then that shall be the battle that I am to bargain with.” They had won (Y/A/N) over, it was victory.

It was also the closest that they could do by themselves to save (Y/N). If this didn’t work, they would be nothing more than John’s broken tools, defined by all those that they were always mourning. And it would only make their sister another name on that sour list, even if her death would pain them substantially more than others.

“I guess we’ll go then.” Sam awkwardly spoke, encouraging Dean to stand from the christened furniture and join him in leaving the sexually active couple alone. He sent the woman a nod, and Alex a raised eyebrow. He would have Jack’s head if he ever thought he had the guts or wings to be so intimate with their sister, he’d make him feel something, and it would be painful. Torturous even.

They shut the door behind them as they departed from the actors, a smirk on Dean’s face. He felt victorious, he was the same hero that would read (Y/N) stories when it was dark and a storm was thundering outside, as she hid under the duvet of some dingy motel bed, a torch protecting her from the enveloping bleakness, but also her brothers. “I’d call this a win.”

“They said about a video…” Sam had Jared’s phone in his hand, he scrolled through the feed with a wrinkled nose and scorned eyes. After he received an answer to what it was concluding, he put the device away, he could never look at Jack and (Y/N) around each other the same again. It was burdened by the facts of this world, contradicting the innocence that both the kids in their world showed. “It was a leaked sex scene of the show, Dean.”

“Heck no!” Growled the elder brother, shaking his head. The instant images that flashed through his mind of the Nephilim atop of his little sister made his teeth grit in anger, and a pit of queasiness fold in the cave of his stomach. He already wasn’t too sure on Lucifer’s spawn, this only enhanced that formed opinion, and he wished to shoot the child more than ever in this instant, even if the real him was not around.

“They’re not actually the people we know Dean.” Sam comforted him, easing his anger, but only slightly. “Nothing like that has happened between them, he is in another world, whilst (Y/N) is in the bunker, reading lore and trying to find a way to bring mum and Jack back to us.”

“Yet Sammy, nothing has happened yet.” He allowed himself to shut his eyes for a second, and the next thing that he knew, he was returned home. His speech must have worked on the employee of the show Supernatural, otherwise, Gabriel surely would not have returned them to their home world.

“He’s gone, for chuck sake. How are we supposed to bring Jack and Mary back if we don’t have archangel grace?!” The stressed voice of their younger sibling often triggered a debate from the brothers, but seeing and hearing her, it was a miracle. They couldn’t waste time and argue, instead Sam lurched forward, grabbing the girl and bringing her into the embrace of his giant like arms.

“We’ll figure it out (Y/N/N), we always do.” He spoke softly, earning a confused yet pleased smile. The hug had come out of nowhere, but it calmed her nerves, the rushing of the blood that hurtled around the veins of her body slowed, and it gave her a moment of peace, a blank mind before she began researching again.

“I have a question.” Dean stated with his gruff tone, squinting at his female sibling. He suppressed a smile, she was oblivious to the blockade that had rested above her head like a raincloud, but he knew that she was here for good. And that she was not leaving to any sort of afterlife any time soon. “Do you have the hots for Jack?”

(Y/N)’s eyes went wide, however she forced a scoff to hide the shock and cover up anything that her brothers could pick up on. She released herself from Sam’s hold, taking a couple of simple steps backwards, so that she could have a clear view of the expressions that both of them wore. “Are you seriously asking me that at a time like this?” Her sentence was finished with a sigh and a roll of her eyes.

But her brothers knew their sister well enough, and that she indeed did not want to admit something to them. (Y/N) was much easier to read than (Y/A/N) was, they had known this growing woman since the day that she was born, the same day in which John rescued the shrieking baby from a mother that was fed and eaten by wolves. She would have been next, however the hunter saved her, as was in his job description, but he couldn’t bare to let her stream through the system.

He felt an attachment to her, and looking at her was practically the same as the notion of peering at one of his boys. She was to be a Winchester, he hadn’t decided it, but God himself did. The universe worked in mysterious ways, it was as though it was all written out for the family, but this instant, none of them minded. It gave the boys another reason to fight, another person to love, and eventually another family member to lose.

But it had been evaded this time, Gabriel had although not helped them with reaching their mother and the son of Kelly Kline, however, he had somewhat saved (Y/N) himself. Without his trickster interference, they’d have never known of her doomed fate, or have been able to fix it.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Dean was smug with being right, as he always was. Overall though, he was more pleased to know that they had stopped the crumbling of the bottom of the family tree, they had protected their sister, literally to the ends of the world.

“Pick up a damn book and help me, I’m not doing all of this research by myself.” Another sign that he was indeed correct, changing the subject, how original. But neither of the brothers, more so Dean than Sam, even wanted to try and switch the mindset that (Y/N) had about the boy. They were allowed to have feelings, romantic and so on, and their sister appeared happy with the tether that was from her heart to Jack’s.

The vampires were almost mutated. This apocalypse world had really taken a toll on all life. Michael of this plain had destroyed everything that was known to be true, even living itself. The habitat of these morsal creatures was dark, and disgusting. Humans had already tried to pass through the deadly lair to reach the other side, to get to the rebellion camp, however, no one had survived to the opposite end of things.

(Y/N) felt hopeless, even as she walked through the home of the starving monsters. She had never been a fan of vampires, no hunter was, but this was cruel to every extent. They didn’t even appear as human anymore, their fates had been cursed by this ruined land. Without the world that was in her own, they would be worse off, everything in this dimension was.

Everyone of their company was on edge, Dean ensured that he kept a sturdy eye forward, looking for any light. He knew (Y/N) would have to be okay, it was paved for her to be so in the other universe, she’d be fine. Of course, he still worried, that was what he did in retrospect, all day, every day, he worried that it was to be someone’s last.

And he was right, as the monsters crept from the dark, tasting the scent of rushing blood in the air. They had lured them from their slumber, and they began to attack, dragging one of the travellers towards their death, where they would be fed on until he was completely drained. (Y/N) swung her machete, beheading one of the animals without a second glance, but perhaps she should have spared another look on the side, as she was a target.

She was the prey to what she was raised to hunt, it wrapped its clawed hand around her leg like a coil, dragging her to the ground, and feasting its teeth into her supple flesh. This was it, there was no route away from her fate, and her body was already weak from blood loss, and so she gave up, and refused to fight. Her body was dragged into the abyss of the nest, and its members followed after her.

Sam noticed their apparent glee, they had yet again prized food from them. He looked around to see whom it may be, and he was aghast with the sight. (Y/N) had her eyes shut as her limp form was being taken by vampires, and he froze, traumatised by the sight. And his surprised and hurt stature gave another of the beasts the perfect opportunity to rip into the rubber of his neck, and relish in the unstoppable river of blood that poured out from the fatal wound.

“No!” Dean cried out, noticing that his sister too had disappeared. Before he could follow after the menaces and get vengeance, and possibly save his family from being the meal of savages, Castiel grasped his arm, pain rendering in the blueness of his vessel’s eyes.

“They’re gone Dean.” His words rang through the hunter’s head. This was his worst nightmare. Gabriel’s warning had not helped at all, because (Y/N) was dead, and so was Sam. He forced himself to trudge on, pained like no other time before. Sam had died before, but he had always found a way to retrieve him back into life, and even through his tragic absence, he always had (Y/N). Now, the only other Winchester was his mother, who also needed to be saved from this damned world.

“Think about it Sammy, Jack is going to be so pleased to see you alive, but your little sis, well, I’m sure that is going to be one hell of a reunion between them.” Lucifer smirked, he was in Nick’s body again, using it as a vessel. “And he’ll think of me as a saviour, a knight that saved his princess from a terrible fate.”

The fallen archangel always had ulterior motives, and Sam realised that he had no choice in whether he’d rather remain dead, or be used as a bargaining chip by the devil himself. His interest in Jack was not exactly pure, it was clear to the man that he sought the backup, the power of his biological son. His intent was to creep into the boy’s mind, and decipher for the kid the difference between wrong and right.

“That’s what you want, to lie to him about who you are?” He couldn’t exactly say he was surprised, even more so that the audience of vampires were seething to break free from Lucifer’s force. He wasn’t even supposed to be here, he should have been in the bunker, his grace feeding away at Rowena’s spell, and keeping the gate open for their return.

“I’ll just bend the truth to fit the story, and I care about my son. As you care about your dear sister, and it would be a shame if she were not to wake, and then the news will have to be delivered to my boy, and I’m sure that would just break his half and half heart.” The celestial being, the epidemy of evil tutted at the thought, only to send Sam a mischievous smirk afterwards. “You don’t want him to be like me, but without her, he’ll be in so much pain that he won’t think about his actions. If he has (Y/N/N), then that choice will be entirely up to him, and what he believes in, yada yada yada.”

The sight of his sister covered in her own blood, motionless on the ground, bite marks on her shoulders and elsewhere drew out a desperation in Sam. He couldn’t not allow the villain to bring her back to life, and it seemed that no matter what he disputed, that Lucifer would do it anyway, to get himself in Jack’s good books. And so he hung his head low, awaiting the personal enemy of his to resurrect the most important woman in his life.

On first instinct, (Y/N) gasped in air. There was a lack of it rolling around the vitals of her lungs, but her breath was taken away once more, when she saw the looming of a horrifying figure, a first son of god. He was supposed to be, even if forced to do so by the traditions of magic, be at the bunker, revelling them with a way back. Rowena had been left there also, to keep the spell brewing, and a fearful eye on the hellish shadow.

Assumingly, he had escaped his sentence, and for some reason, brought her to life. It was no mistake as to what the vampires had done to her, she could smell the spilling of her own blood over her thrifted and worn clothes, and it was gruesome. Although it was not the hunter’s first time in being a sponge to her injuries, but nevertheless, she fought to stand beside Sam, who steadied her shaken feet, and balanced out the rest of her body by looping his supportive arm around her waist.

“Come on.” Lucifer rolled the human eyes that he wore like spectacles into the lives of the Winchesters, unimpressed by the slowness of the world’s large cockroaches. “We have places to be and sons to meet.” At his verbalised of clarity for his ungodly presence, (Y/N)’s body became rigid. His intent was to get to Jack, she couldn’t allow him to provoke a fire inside the boy.

He was sweet and innocent, even harmless, despite the accident that had happened when he accompanied her and her brothers on a hunt. If Lucifer reached him, he would only try and navigate the darkness inside of him to be what it was, rather than try and make him change it into something brighter, something that was good, like Kelly would have wanted.

“No.” (Y/N) refused, earning a frown from Sam and a elongated groan from Lucifer. She had died, it didn’t matter if she were to return to that fate, not if she stood by what she truly believed in. Nothing much would change, other than the vampires getting another meal from the same body, Dean already thought that she was extinguished from life, and the news would be passed on before any of them were to reach him.

“Oh, for crying out loud!” The devil shook his wolfish head, Winchesters were always so stubborn. “I’d allow it if Sam were to stand against the gift of life, I’ve seen what is inside of his head after all, but you! You’re the priority here, you are Jack’s weakness.” This gesture of good faith seemed to be more than it was worth, but if she didn’t comply willingly, then he would force her to follow him along, and live.

“Where’d you hear that from? He doesn’t have a weakness, he just has a good heart. I’m just another person that he lives with, a soldier that is going to fight anyone that dares to try and hurt him. And I won’t mind if I have to give my life to try and kill you.” She spat at the disgrace of heaven, hardly moved by his goal. As a Winchester, the stubbornness ran through her veins, even if the bloodline itself did not.

“I hear things, and I did in that bunker. Like how Dean was speaking about you and Jackie boy, and how it all made sense. The shared looks, the flushed faces, all that gross stuff. He didn’t seem too happy with the circumstances, but he was content with the fact that you were alive, like you are again, because of me.”

Lucifer was the last person that (Y/N) would thank for her existence, but she realised that there was no way out of his trap, she was the bait for Jack, that would reel the boy into the wings of his dreaded father.

He could sometimes be so naive, that she feared that Jack would fall for the extension of kindness, one that hardly suited Lucifer. But that was up to him, and in this apocalyptic version of her world, anything could happen.

“She’s dead.” Dean’s voice was gravelly, it had been dragged through hope, and now the realisation that his baby brother and sister were lost to life. The eyes belonging to Jack widened, and tears began to form.

He could quite comprehend how he felt. There was a tearing in his chest, he felt as though he was being split apart, his breathing rapidly increased, and his eyes flared like the bursts of the sun.

Until whispers hit his ears, and he looked up, only to see the girl alive and well. He was not the only one relieved in the circumstances, Dean and Mary were too, but they feared the fact that Lucifer had joined them, and was being trailed by the bloodied siblings; the ones that he had saved for his selfish purposes.

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katsidhe · 4 years

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15.20 Final Thoughts

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I think he can do it.

I think Sam can do anything.

I’m crying again.

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

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

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

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

Supernatural said Sam Rights, and the world shook.

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

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dying-artist-yes · 3 years

Text

A Temporary Parting

So my friends decided to do nice things for me and I have decided to do nice things back. I will be doing these for 6 characters and this is the first character; Remi. Let’s gooooo.

Mum, I’m sorry for how this starts off. I promise it gets fluffier later okay? @alyssoujo

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- How long had it been since she’d left him? Since God had so cruelly torn his beloved away from him? Lucifer still remembered it clearly as if it had happened yesterday. He remembered it often. He would replay it over and over until she returned. He had been in his office, working away at the latest stack of paperwork dropped onto him. With Barbatos gone, he and Diavolo were having to cover for him as well and so, their normal paperwork was doubled. He had been frustrated and irritated for at least 3 days now. Not primarily because of work but because he had an argument with Remi. Yes, they’ve bickered before but it was just that; bickering. Never had she raised her voice with him like that. Through their pact, he knew she had regretted it almost immediately but not once did she call in the 3 days that had followed. He hadn’t reached out to her for the first few hours, thinking they both needed time to cool off so they could talk about what had just happened and reconcile but a message never came from her. He sent her so very many but she didn’t even see them. He grew frustrated, thinking she was ignoring him still due to their argument and stopped texting and attempting to call her after a while of being ignored. He just concluded that when she’d had enough of ignoring him, she’d call him. Yet that never came. It had been 3 days and not so much as a peep from her. She hadn’t even been online in the past 3 days. This made Lucifer worried but, of course, he was basically bound to his desk until he finished working. That’s part of what had been frustrating him; his inability to check up on his wife and see if she was alright. To be able to see for himself that she was just ignoring him longer than usual because he had been insensitive towards her two male friends. Seems he need not wait any longer. He could feel a tug, a very strong one, pulling on the back of his right hand, where his pact mark with Remi rested. ‘Finally...’ He thought to himself with a soft sigh before responding to the summon, expecting to be hugged by his wife or something of the sort but what greeted him made his entire world come crashing down. He was in a dark room he didn’t recognize, far from Paris as far as he could tell. When he first appeared, Lucifer’s thoughts were ‘Why would she come to a place like this?’ His question was answered all too soon as the moment he looked in front of him, he was greeted by the dying form of his wife. “REMI!” Panicked took ahold of him as he picked up her bloodied form, cradling her in his arms. He muttered every healing spell he knew, anything that could keep his wife from leaving him. She was sickly pale, a hole in the middle of her chest as though someone had ripped something out, and had been soaking in a pool of her own blood. “H-Hang on...! You will be fine...!” His voice broke as he said this but he didn’t care. All he cared about was making sure she would see the light of day. That his light wouldn’t leave his side. Why was she here? Who did this? All these questions ran through his head but were brought to a halt when he felt his wife’s cold hand on his cheek. “Luci...fer... It’s... too late...” Came her weak voice and his eyes widened as he heard her words. Why didn’t he check sooner? Why didn’t he keep trying to reach out to her? He could’ve gone to Paris to visit her. He should’ve gone to talk to her. “I... am sor...ry... I...” She was struggling just to speak and Lucifer shook his head, letting the tears fall as he gently brought her head up to press his forehead against hers. “Shhh... I should be the one who’s sorry... I should have come to check on you... I should have come to you...” He mumbled as the tears kept falling. Remi weakly tried to wipe them away as she shook her head to the best of her abilities. “I... should ha...ve... summon...ed... y-you... sooner...” She got out weakly and with every breath she took, Lucifer could feel more life leave her. She was dying in his arms and he was helpless just as he had been the past 3 times. She was slipping out of his grasp and he couldn’t do anything. He was too late to save the woman he loved above all else. The woman who became his world. “Remi please... D-Don’t leave me too... Please...” He was begging. He wouldn’t do this but if it meant she lived, he would beg anyone, even his Father he despised above all else. He couldn’t lose her too. He couldn’t lose her like he had lost Lilith. “I-I’m... sorry... about... our argu...ment... I-I was... too harsh... I-I had... so much... to tell... you...” She too was crying now as her death approached her. “P-Please... G-Grant this one wish... of mine...” She said weakly as Lucifer looked at her desperately. The tears wouldn’t stop it no matter how much he wanted them to and once again he found himself cursing his pride. Had he just reached out to her when he felt her regret and sorrow, perhaps this could have been avoided. “What... What is it dearest wife...?” He got out weakly. “P-Please... F-Find me again... I-I know... i-it is sel...fish... b-but... p-please... wait for... me... a-and f-find me... l-like you promised...” She said, whimpering quietly as more tears flowed down her cheeks. “Of course... You forget who you have for a husband... You are mine for all eternity, just as I am yours... So no matter how long it takes, I will find you once again... I will find you as many times as needed... We shall be together in every life given to you...” He said softly, placing her hand against his cheek. She gave him a weak yet fond smile as she weakly caressed his cheek. He leaned into her cold touch. “Thank.. you... I love you...” She said, barely above a whisper before she fell limp. It took him a moment to register that she had truly left him. However... “This is just a temporary parting... I will ensure it...” He said softly as he held her lifeless body in his arms. He had remained like this for a while until Diavolo had appeared behind him. Upon seeing his friend grieving like this, the prince’s heart broke. “Lucifer...” “I am fine Diavolo.” He said as he stood up with Remi in his arms. Even in death, she looked serene and beautiful to him. Even if she had been torn away from him in this life, he’d ensure no one could do so in the next.

He sighed, opening his eyes. He remembered the concerned looks his brothers had given him. He remembered throwing himself into work. Even if he knew she would return somehow, it still hurt. There was still a hole in his heart. He still felt incomplete. He would read her letters. He would look at the small figurine she had gotten him. Listen to the song she’d made for him. Everything she’d given him, he would look over because they were little parts of her he still had with himself. Of course, he hadn’t forgotten the promise he’d made with her. He’d spent the last 600 years searching for her but to no avail. What was Father doing with her soul for the past 600 years? Keeping it hostage? He let out a frustrated sigh and hid his face in his hands. He needed tea. He needed to calm down so he could focus on work again. However, before he could even get up to brew the tea, the doors to his office burst open to reveal everyone’s favorite neighborhood angel; Simeon.

Lucifer pulled his face out of his hands and normally would have glared at him for barging in like this but he noticed the urgent look on his face. He raised a brow in a questioning manner and the angel just took a moment to catch his breath. “I... I have something. For you.” Simeon got out in between his many pants. Lucifer didn’t quite understand what could warrant this reaction out of the normally calm and collected Simeon but he nodded and gestured for Simeon to bring whatever it was he had found. Simeon gestured for a Little D to come in and Lucifer’s eyes widened. “Is that...” “A bouquet of blue roses? Yes. Someone left it at the Angel’s Halo along with a letter addressed to you.” Simeon said as he searched through his pockets before pulling out a baby blue envelope from his pocket.

Lucifer swiftly took the letter but was very careful in opening it. The first thing he saw had almost made him feel as though his breath had been caught in his throat. It was a picture. A picture of a young woman smiling with a bouquet of blue and red roses. Straight black hair, unlike her previously half and half black on the left and white on the right hair, and straight bangs. It was still waist length, just less wavy. Her skin tone was more towards porcelain now than pale ivory but the one thing that hadn’t been altered about her, left untouched completely, were her eyes. Her striking blue eyes he remembered peering into only to see love and adoration for himself. The eyes that would shine whenever they saw him. The eyes that belonged to his wife.

There were various pictures like this. About 10. Whoever took the pictures seems close with her. He then pulled out the letter and opened it to read the contents of it. The letter read;

“Hello Lucifer,

It has been 600 years since you’ve seen the lovely young lady in the picture, yes? Well~ She was finally reborn~ She’s a lovely young demon born in Canada. I made sure her parents named her Remi so you don’t have to get used to another name. You would think that being reborn would mean she has no memories of her past life and yet your influence has not left her in the slightest.

Every birthday she has had the past... what? 121 years now? she has only asked for one thing; blue roses. The gift you got her on her birthday all those years ago. I am certain if you go check, those are blooming again. Each and every blue rose she has received, she cherishes with her life until it wilts. She is also very fond of the color red and the color blue. Hm... I wonder why? She’s also very fond of making spicy food and warm desserts despite not liking them. Once again, I wonder why? Oh! And also, she has turned down everyone that’s ever tried to hit on her. She threatens them with a description of a man that matches yours. When I asked her where she got it from, she said she dreamt of this person and even if she was not sure whether or not he was real, the love she saw in this person’s eyes made her feel whole and so if needed, she’d spend her entire life looking for him. She’ll only accept you.

Anyways. You are probably curious as to why you haven’t bee able to find her if she’s been alive for 121 years now. Well, that would be because of your Father. Well, more Michael really. He has made sure every time you’ve come across her, she didn’t see you and you didn’t see her. I really don’t understand why but it is what it is.

I, however, do no take orders from Michael so while he is kept busy, I am ensuring you find Remi. Her memories are not gone. God did not keep her soul for 479 years for no reason. She spent all that time bargaining to keep her memories. To be born anything but a human so she would not have to leave your side again. After much insistence, He allowed it on the condition that she would only remember once reunited with you. Apparently Michael had a problem with that. Since I’m the one doing it though, he can suck it because he can’t punish me.

She is currently visiting England, London to be specific, the last picture I sent is proof of that. That’s why I sent the bouquet of blue roses to Simeon with this letter because I knew he’d get it to you.

Come and get your wife before Michael sticks his nose in where it doesn’t belong again.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. “Simeon-” “I’m ready to accommodate you Lucifer. You helped me when I needed to find Celes, this is the least I can do to repay that debt.” He said with a soft smile before opening his arms up. “Hug?” “... Just this once.” Lucifer said with a soft sigh before getting up and hugging Simeon, who happily hugged back. He’d finally be reunited with her again. He’d make sure she stayed this time. “Let us get going... I’ve made her wait long enough.” He said, pulling away from the hug as Simeon grinned and nodded. The two of them made their way to the human world so the Avatar of Pride’s bride could return to him, so she could return home.

Despite his many protests, Simeon insisted Lucifer stay with him and Celestina. In a way, he was glad Simeon was so stubborn. It was nice to be surrounded by Simeon’s sunny family. Before, it hurt to be around anyone’s family because all he could see was Remi but now... with her about to return, rather than seeing their family as a fleeting dream, he saw it as something he would make a reality. He would not allow anything to get in-between them this time, especially not Michael. So looking at Simeon’s sunny family and playing with his kids... it reminded him of what he will soon have.

While Simeon oversaw his kids taking care of the Angel’s Halo, Lucifer would go to scour London in order to find Remi. She was close, he could feel it. As he made his way around, a garden caught his eye. It reminded him of the garden outside of the Mausoleum where he would lay down on her lap while she ran her fingers through his hair as Cerberus played with one of his many toys. The last memory he had of that was after she’d returned from her human world trip. She noticed he had been stressed so she took him to see Cerberus. Then, when they reached the park, she had him lay his head down on her lap while she ran her fingers through his hair and sang for him.

He inhaled as he closed his eyes, remembering that scene. ‘We can make many more this time.’ He thought to himself before opening his eyes again. He was just about to continue walking when he heard soft singing coming from the garden he had previously thought empty.

“... A ring on my finger and a promise of eternity...~ The one promise I refuse to fail to keep...~”

‘That’s...’ He recognized those lyrics. He quickly rushed into the garden and frantically looked around for the source of the singing. That’s when he saw her by the fountain in the middle of the garden, looking down at her lap which had a sketchbook on it.

“Every moment I spend with you~ My heart hammers away~ Screaming at me “Never let him go!” Oh I know, I know~ The kind of happiness I have with him~ No other could compare~ I love you I love you I love you~” “I love you~ I love you~ I love you so~”

Remi looked up from her sketchbook and towards the person who completed the chorus to the song and blinked when she saw him. She stood up, sketchbook in hand, and started walking towards him. Lucifer, in return, started walking towards her and met her at about halfway. “You’re... real, right?” Were the first words from her. Even her voice was the same. “Yes, I am real.” He responded with a smirk. “Would you like to check should you not believe me?” He asked with a raised brow. Remi hesitantly placed a hand on his cheek and immediately winced, placing her hand on her temple as she wobbled a little. Lucifer immediately wrapped his arm around her waist to steady her. “Remi...! Are you alright...?” He asked, worry settling in. Maybe he shouldn’t have come in contact with her. What if he accidentally triggered something that would end her life? What if-

“I-I’m fine... M-My dearest Avatar of Pride...” She said smiling up at him through the pain. Lucifer could feel relief wash over him and for the first time in 600 years, he felt happy. “Just... remembering things... I would hate to not have any memories of you...” She said, leaning into his arms and resting her head against his chest. “You’re home now...” He said softly as he rubbed soothing circles on her back. “Yes... I’m home again...

... You found me.”

#obey me #lucifer #lucifer obey me #fanfic #angst to fluff #jesus this took forever #ily mum

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wonderfulworldofmichaelford · 3 years

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Psycho Analysis: Lucifer/Satan

(WARNING! This analysis contains SPOILERS!)

Please allow me to introduce this villain. He’s a man of wealth and taste...

Satan, or Lucifer, or whatever of the hundreds of names across multiple religions, folk tales, urban legends, movies, books, songs, video games, and more that you choose to call him, is without a doubt the biggest bad of them all. He is not just a villain; he is the villain, the bad guy your other bad guys answer to, the lord of Hell. If there’s a bad deed, he’s done it, if there’s a problem, he’s behind it. There’s nothing beneath him, and that’s not just because he’s at the very bottom of Hell. He is the root cause of all the misery in the entire world.

And if we’re talking about Satan, we gotta talk about Lucifer too. They weren’t always supposed to be one and the same, but over centuries of artistic depictions and reimaginings they’ve been conflated into one being, a being that is a lot more layered and interesting than just a simple adversary for the good to overcome when handled properly.

Motivation/Goals: Look, it’s Satan. His main goal is to be as evil as possible, do bad things, cause mischief and mayhem. Rarely does anything good come from Satan being around. If he is one and the same as Lucifer, expect there to be some sort of plot about him rebelling against God, as according to modern interpretations Lucifer fought against God in battle and was then cast out, falling from grace like lightning. When the Lucifer persona is front and center, raging against the heavens tends to be a big part of his schemes, but when the big red devil persona is out and about, expect temptations to sin, birthing the Antichrist, or tempting people to sell their souls.

Performance: Satan has been portrayed by far too many people over the years to even consider keeping count of, though some notable performances of the character or at least characters who are clearly meant to be Satan include the nuanced anti-villain take of the character Viggo Mortensen portrayed in The Prophecy; the sympathetic homosexual man portrayed by Trey Parker in South Park and its film; the hard-rocking badass Dave Grohl portrayed in Tencaious D’s movie; Robin Hughes as a sneaky, double-crossing bastard in “The Howling Man” episode of The Twilight Zone; the big red devil from Legend known as Darkness, played by Tim Curry; the shapeshifting angel named Satan from The Adventures of Mark Train who will make you crap your pants; and while not portrayed by anyone due to being entirely voiceless, Chernabog from Disney’s Fantasia is definitely noteworthy in regards to cinematic depictions of the devil.

Final Thoughts & Score: Satan is a villain whose sheer scope dwarfs almost every other villain in history. It’s not even remotely close, either; Satan pops up in stories all around the world, is the greater-scope villain of most varieties of three major religions, and his very name is shorthand for “really, really evil.” Every other villain I have ever discussed and reviewed wishes they could be a byword for being bad to the bone. Even Dracula, one of the single most important villains in fiction, looks puny in comparison to Satans villainous accomplishments.

Satan in old religious texts tended to be an utterly horrifying force of nature, until Medieval times began portray him as a dopey demon trying to tempt the faithful (and failing). Folklore and media have gone back and forth, portraying both in equal measure – you have the desperate, fiddle-playing devil from “The Devil Went Down to Georgia” and the unseen, unfathomable Satan who may or may not exist in the Marvel comics universe who other demons live in fear of the return of. Satan is just a very interesting and malleable antagonist, one who is defined just enough that he can make a massive, formidable force while still being enough of a blank slate that you can project any sort of personality traits onto him to build an intriguing foe.

One of the most famous examples of this in action is the common depiction of Satan as the king of hell. This doesn’t really have much basis in religion; he’s as much a prisoner as anyone else, though considering how impressive a prisoner he is, he’d be like the big guy at the top of the pecking order in any jail for sure. But still, the idea of Satan as the ruler of hell was clearly conceived by someone and proved such an intriguing concept that so many decided to run with it.

I think that’s what truly makes Satan such an interesting villain, in that he’s almost a community-built antagonist. People over the ages have added so much lore, personality, and power to him that is only vaguely alluded to in old religions to the point where they have all become commonplace in depictions of the big guy, and there really isn’t any other villain to have quite this magnitude on culture as a whole. It shouldn’t be any shock that Satan is an 11/10; rating him any lower would be a heinous crime only he is capable of.

But see, the true sign of how amazing he is is the sheer number of ways one can interpret him. You have versions that are just vague embodiments of all that is bad and unholy, such as Chernabog from Fantasia, you have more nuanced portrayals like the one Viggo Mortensen played in The Prophecy, you have outright sympathetic ones like the one from South Park… Satan is just a villain who can be reshaped and reworked as a creator sees fit and molded into something that fits the narrative they want. I guess what I’m trying to say is that not only is Lucifer/Satan one of the greatest villains of all, he’s also one of the single greatest characters of all time.

Now, there are far too many depictions of Satan for me to have seen them all, but I have seen quite a lot. Here’s how Old Scratch has fared over the millennia in media of various forms, though keep in mind this is by no means a comprehensive or exhaustive lsit:

“The Devil Went Down to Georgia” Devil:

I think this is one of my favorite devils in any fiction ever, simply because of what a good sport he is. Like, there is really no denying that Johnny’s stupid little fiddle ditty about chickens or whatever sucks major ass, and yet Satan (who had moments before summoned up demonic hordes to rip out some Doom-esque metal for the contest) gave him the win and the golden fiddle. What a gracious guy! He’s a 9/10 for sure, though I still wish we knew how his rematch ended…

Chernabog:

Chernabog technically doesn’t do anything evil, and he never says a word, and yet everything about him is framed as inherently sinister. It’s really no wonder Chernabog has become one of the most famous and beloved parts of Fantasia alongside Yen Sid and Sorcerer Mickey; he’s infinitely memorable, and really, how can he not be? He’s the devil in a Disney film, not played for laughs and instead made as nightmarishly terrifying as an ancient demon god should be. Everything about him oozes style, and every movement and gesture begets a personality that goes beyond words. Chernabog doesn’t need to speak to tell you that he is evil incarnate; you just know, on sight, that he is up to no good.

Quite frankly, the implications of Chernabog’s existence in the Disney canon are rather terrifying. Is he the one Maleficent called upon for power? Is he the one all the villains answer to? Do you think Frollo saw him after God smote him? And what exactly did he gain by attacking Sora at the end of Kingdom Hearts? All I know for sure is that Chernabog is a 10/10.

Lucifer (The Prophecy):

Viggo Mortensen has limited screentime, but in that time he manages to be incredibly creepy, misanthropic… and yet, also, on the side of good. Of course, he’s doing it entirely for self-serving reasons (he wants humanity around so he can make them suffer), but credit where credit is due. The man manages to steal a scene from under Christopher Walken, I think that’s worth a 10/10.

Satan (South Park):

Portraying Satan as a sympathetic gay man was a pretty bold choice, and while he certainly does fall into some stereotypes, he’s not really painted as bad or morally wrong for being gay, and ends up more often than not being a good (if sometimes misguided) guy who just wants to live his life. Plus he gets a pretty sweet villain song, though technically it’s more of an “I want” song than anything. Ah well, a solid 8/10 for him is good.

Satan (Tenacious D):

youtube

It’s Dave Grohl as Satan competing in a rock-off against JB and KG. Literally everything about this is perfect, even if he’s only in the one scene. 10/10 for sure.

Robot Devil:

Futurama’s take on the devil is pretty hilarious and hammy, but then Futurama was always pretty on point. He’s a solid 8/10, because much like South Park’s devil he gets a fun little villain song with a guest apearance by the Beastie Boys, not to mention his numerous scams like when he stole Fry’s hands. He’s just a fun, hilarious asshole.

The Howling Man:

The Twilight Zone has many iconic episodes, and this one is absolutely one of them. While the devil is the big twist, that scene of him transforming as he walks between the pillars is absolutely iconic, and was even used by real-life villain Kevin Spacey in the big reveal of The Usual Suspects. This one is a 9/10 for sure, especially given the ending that implies this will all happen again (as per usual with the show).

The Darkness:

While he’s more devil-adjacent than anything and is more likely to be the son of Satan rather than the actual man himself, it’s hard not to give a shout-out to the big, buff demon played by Tim Curry in some of the most fantastic prosthetics and makeup you will ever see. He gets a 9/10 for the design alone, the facty he’s Tim Curry is icing on the cake.

#Psycho Analysis #Satan #Lucifer

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fellulahh · 4 years

Note

Hi!! If it's ok with you, could you do hc/imagine/anything you would like of the brothers comforting a mc because she lost her cat?(or him!) This will be the second year already but I lost my cat because the veterinian put too much anesthesia, it was so sudden that it still hurts, sometimes im ok others no, but since my period is coming Im not ok flkghldf If there is a limit of characters could you consider Satan? since he is the cat boy :(

I’m so sorry to hear about your cat! The loss of a pet can be awful, I hope this post makes you smile a bit, sending big hugs your way😽💓

MC loses her cat

Lucifer:

- although he may not comfort her per say, he does fully sympathise with her because he’d be incredibly upset if he lost Cerberus

- Would offer to make her a cup of tea

- He would sit with her in her room and let her tell him all of these funny stories about her cat

- Listens intensely

- He knows how much this cat meant to MC so he will listen to absolutely anything she has to say, as long as it made her feel better (even a tiny bit better)

- To cheer her up he’d buy her a little chain necklace with a paw pendant on the end

Mammon:

- as soon as he sees MC upset, he’s upset

- He’s super concerned over how sad she is

- Doesn’t quite comprehend why she’s so sad over an animal because he’s never had a pet but after hearing her talk about this one little cat she had and expresses so much love for it he begins to get an idea

- Holds MC protectively in his arms as she tells him all about this cat, he’s still a little bit confused but he loves hearing MC’s voice so doesn’t question it

- Offers to buy her more cats thinking that’d be the best solution

- Insists they get one together, he even offers to let MC name the cat to cheer her up

- After MC convinces him not to buy the cat population of Devildom, he settles with a new idea of a gift: a little framed picture of her pet

Levi:

- he fully sympathises with her

- Although he didn’t lose Henry 1.0, he did have to give him up which broke his heart so he has somewhat of an idea of what’s going through her head

- Him and MC spend the night talking about their pets and how much they miss them. He listens to her with a smile on his face

- Gives MC a little cuddle (even though he’s practically shaking while doing so)

- Offers for MC to go into the tank with Henry 2.0 thinking it’d cheer her up

- She politely declines but still appreciates the offer

- The next day he goes out and buys a plushie of a cat - he tries his best to find one that matches the description MC gave him of her cat

Satan:

- as soon as he hears what’s happened, he pulls MC into his arms and soothes her

- He notices the small smile on her face when she talks about some of her memories with her cat so he keeps asking questions. Talking about the cat clearly makes her feel better so Satan is all ears.

- Insists she shows him a photo

- After seeing a picture of her and her little kitty, he has a really warm smile on his face and starts gushing over it - the action cheers up MC a little bit

- Tells MC that’s he’s positive she was the best cat mum she could be

- “Maybe we can be cat parents together one day?”

- He spends the next week trying to write a small story for MC all about some of the adventures she’d had with her pet

- MC cries when he gives her his present

Asmo:

- deeply concerned over how sad MC is

- He’d let her lay in his lap as he strokes her hair

- He can see how upset this has made her and offers to do whatever he can to cheer her up

- To take her mind off things, he’d paint her nails as she opens up about her pet. He attempts to paint little paws on some of the nails

- Listens to every word she has to say

- They end up going out after he offers to help her with some retail therapy. He buys her the cutest pair of earrings - they were little cat faces.

Beel:

- Holds MC soothingly

- Traces little circles on her back while she cries

- Sits MC in his lap after she’s stopped crying so that he can see her album of cat photos she has on her human phone

- Rests his chin on her shoulder as he listens to her

- Gives her little kisses on her cheek when she’s talking

- The next day he steals her phone and does whatever he can to get the photos from it

- After realising he can’t, he uses his favourite picture and makes a ‘drawing’ of her cat

- (Uses pasta to make the picture)

- While it looks like a toddler did it, MC can’t help but grin at her macaroni cat

Belphie:

- for once, MC’s using him as the pillow

- Looks down into her sad eyes as she sobs

- He spends the whole day with her in his room with Beel occasionally making an appearance

- Wraps a blanket around her when her eyes grow tired from the crying

- When she’s sleeping he’s making a valiant effort to think of a present to her MC to cheer her up

- Although not a picture of her cat, he finds a picture that somewhat looks like him/her and gets it made into a pillow

- “Now you can always hug your cat.”

- He’s very proud...also a little worried that he’ll want to steal the pillow

#obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me beelzebub #obey me satan #obey me one shot #obey me mammon #obey me imagines #obey me beel #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie #obey me asmo #obey me asmodeus #obey me levi #obey me leviathan

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chipper9906 · 4 years

Text

Bound To You - Chapter 8: Wish Upon A Star

< - - - Previous Chapter

WARNING: SPOILERS FOR SEASON 15

NOTE: Pairings and Ratings Will Change As Story Is Updated

Pairings: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester

Rating: General Audiences

Chapter Word Count: 12,570

Overall Word Count: 63,774

Status: Multi Chapter Fic - In Progress (8/?)

Chapter Preview:

“Hello, Dean.”

“Don’t you dare,” Dean bites out. He was still refusing to look at Cas right now. Mostly because there’s a good chance he’d punch him if he did. “You don’t get to do that like we’re all buddy-buddy right now. Not when you’ve got some explaining to do.”

Castiel stayed silent next to him.

Link To Fic

Click Below To Keep Reading

Character Key For Telepathic Conversations

'Italic Text' - Castiel

'Bold Text' - Dean

* * *

“Dean!”

Dean’s eye’s snapped open, a frantic and uncontrollable response to the sound of his brother yelling his name, expecting for there to be trouble. His body jerks up – or at least tries to – nothing more than a flailing of his arms and a jerk of his shoulders.

“Son of a-,” Dean grunts, using his arms to push himself back up against the headboard. His head snaps towards his brother’s yells, coming eye to eye with a particularly worried-looking Sam at his bedside, and an equally concerned looking Eileen next to him.

“What?” Dean snaps, not appreciating the rude awakening.

“What? What do you mean ‘what?’ Dean, it’s-,” Sam roughly shoves his sleeve up, double-checking the time on his watch. “-Four ‘o clock in the afternoon, and you’re, what, taking a nap?! We were texting and calling you on the way home and you didn’t pick up! We get back and find books thrown all over the table with you nowhere in sight, not replying to us when we’re yelling for you! Jesus Dean, I thought something had happened.”

“I’m fine,” Dean brushed his brother’s overprotective worry off, running a hand down his groggy face. “Research was kicking my ass is all. Needed some extra sleep.”

“So much so that you sleep through all my calls and texts, and then takes us yelling your name around ten times for you to wake up?” Sam asks, still with that hint of worry in his eyes.

“Dean… is there something you’re not telling us?” Eileen probes, leaning past Sam to look to Dean.

“What’dya mean? It’s not like I could have snuck out and done something. Not without falling down the stairs a million times and having to roll around in this damn thing everywhere around town.”

“No, I meant more…” Eileen trailed off, looking back to the Sam next to her, thinking over her words. “Are you in pain?”

Sam and Eileen seemed to have expected the confused look he gave in return, looking back to one another in that ‘we’re somehow reading each other’s minds’ look that’s really starting to get on Dean’s nerves.

“We just… We noticed you’ve been sleeping more than usual,” Sam began timidly, knowing this is going to be a touchy subject with Dean. “It’s, well… it’s not like you. And I usually wouldn’t say anything about it, but… what with your injury and all…”

“Sammy, I’m fine,” Dean insisted. The fact that he couldn’t just walk away from this conversation was a real pain in the ass.

Sam didn’t look like he believed him. “It’s just that… some of the pamphlets the doctor gave me mentioned about how excessive fatigue can be a sign of deterioration of health-,”

“Sam, are you forgetting that there’s an angel residing in my body right now?” Dean interrupted Sam. “Do you really think Cas would just leave me to die?”

“Of course I don’t,” Sam almost looked offended that Dean could ever think such a thing. “But I wasn’t just talking about physical health, you know.”

“Sam…”

“Look Dean, I know you don’t like talking about this kind of stuff, but with the way things are now… You can’t expect me not to get worried.” Sam said.

“You’ve had to go through something awful, Dean,” Eileen piped up. “And this isn’t us saying you’re not strong enough to handle it, okay? It’s not. But things like this can take a toll on your mental health, even when you don’t realize it.”

“Not to mention there’s going to be a strain on your mind with Cas possessing you,” Sam added. “We don’t know what the long-term effects are going to be – given the fact that it’s not your typical angel possession.”

Dean frowned up at his little brother. “How is it not?”

“Well… usually, angels and their vessels don’t… switch possession as much as you guys do. And…And…”

“And what?”

“We’re just worried, is all,” Eileen said gently, placing what Dean is sure would be a comforting hand on his lower leg – if he could feel it, that is. “And we know we’re being over-bearing right now, and you want nothing more than for us to get lost-,”

“What? No! That’s not – I mean I appreciate you guys worrying over me, it’s just -,”

“If you say you’re fine? I believe you,” Sam told him. “I do, okay? But that’s not going to stop me from worrying over you.”

“I know, Sammy,” Dean said. He understood; he’d be doing the exact same thing if their roles were reversed. “But I’m not going to do something drastic, okay? That’s not… that’s not me anymore. It’s…”

Dean sighed, not knowing the right way to explain this to Sam. Or more, he knew exactly the way to explain it, but… it was almost too personal to share.

‘Cas? You got your ears on?’

‘Always, Dean.’

‘Okay, well, uh… Do you mind if I tell Sam about… about when you…’

‘…When I died?’

‘Yeah, that… I don’t really want to talk about it, since… I don’t know, it felt like those words were for me only, but… I think it’s the only thing that’ll get these two love birds off my ass for at least five seconds.’

‘Oh, um… are you going to talk about everything I said?’

‘Uh… no, just… the bit before… you know…’

The bit before Cas said something he still can’t think about.

‘Oh… okay, I… yes. It's fine.’

It sure as hell didn’t sound “fine.” ‘You sure?’

‘I said it’s fine.’

Whoa, okay… The sudden hostility from Cas nearly had Dean flinching. He could feel the way Cas’s mood had shifted, back to that electric buzz he had felt back in the hospital when he had pissed Cas off. Except, this time, it was… muted. Even though Cas was stuck in his head, he had found a way to hide himself somewhere so deep inside that Dean could barely feel his presence within him; quite literally storming off into another ‘room’.

And he had no idea what he’d done to warrant such a reaction.

Eileen’s whisper to Sam is what brought Dean back to the present. “Was that the end of the conversation, or…”

“It’s about the night Cas died.”

That got their attention. Their shared amused grins were immediately wiped off their face, focus now locked on Dean.

“Cas had gotten me into the dungeon, but Billie was on the other side of the door. I was so angry with myself because… I knew we were going to die. There was nowhere to go but out that door, and Billie was there waiting. And it was my fault. Not only had I gotten myself killed, but Cas too. And that pissed me off more than anything. I couldn’t blame that bitch Reaper for this one, or Lucifer, or Jack, or whatever. This was all on me. And then… Cas told me about that damn deal. What he had done to save Jack.”

“Cas made a deal?” Sam asked, clearly shocked. “How did… Who did he even make the deal with?”

“The Empty,” Dean answered bitterly. “His life in exchange for Jack’s; to take Jack’s place in the Empty.’

“But… but Jack was in Heaven?” Sam said, perplexed.

“Empty didn’t agree with that. But it did agree to Cas’s deal, except… Empty didn’t take him then and there. Apparently… it would only take him when he let himself be happy. Cas said he had an idea, then he was telling me all about this deal and I had no idea why… but then, Cas, he…”

It was strange. Cas was alive, here with him. Quite literally. And yet, thinking back to that day… it was still so raw, so fresh, and so unbelievably, agonizingly painful to remember - let alone speak out loud.

“He said some stuff that made me realize that maybe… maybe I wasn’t the shitty person I always thought I was. That the way he saw me changed him. He cared… because of me. And I still didn’t believe it when he said it, until he died for me because…”

“Because?” Sam encouraged Dean gently.

“Because he loved me.”

There. He said it. Was it… was it the first time he had said it out loud? Hell, was it the first time he had thought about it, acknowledged it since that day? He could feel Cas stirring inside him, as taken aback at hearing Dean say it as Sam and Eileen looked to hear it.

“That’s when the Empty came,” Dean continued. His gaze had dropped down to his lap, unable to take Eileen and Sam’s stunned yet sympathetic looks. “Took Billie, then… it took Cas. And that was it.”

“Wow…” Sam breathed out the word in response. “He finally told you?”

Dean’s head snapped up at that, a deep frown etched into his face. “Wha – You knew?”

“We… had our suspicions,” Eileen answered.

“We, um… we kind of had a bet going, actually. Before… everything went wrong.” Sam said, already grimacing in preparation for Dean’s response.

“Excuse me? You had a bet? A bet for what?”

Sam and Eileen shared nervous looks.

“You know what? Don’t answer that. I don’t wanna know,” Dean grumbled, reaching over to the left side of his bed for his wheelchair that sat nearby. “Point is Cas helped me to see there’s more to me than I thought; made me realize that I actually wanted to keep living. I’m not gonna throw that all away now.”

“Well… that’s great!” Sam exclaimed, fighting back the urge to go around the bed and help Dean as he struggles into his wheelchair. “Just wanted to make sure you know we’re here if you’re ever feeling… Dean – what’s that?”

Dean froze, looking up to see Sam’s eyes fixated on his arm. “Huh?”

Sam stormed around to the other side of the bed where Dean was, coming to a stop in front of him and pulling the sleeve of his t-shirt up to his shoulder. “Isn’t that…?”

Dean threw his brother's hand off his shoulder, pulling his sleeve even further up and twisting his arm as he lifts it. There, branded on the skin of his left shoulder… was Cas’s handprint. The scar, the one he had found the day Castiel brought him out of Hell. The one they used to discover Castiel’s name. The one that had, slowly after time, faded away.

It was back. It was faint, not as raised and raw looking as it was the first time it had appeared on his skin, but it was there.

“What the…” Dean mutters, brushing a hand over the scar as if it would just wipe away.

The second his fingers brush against the pink scar, a sensation like electricity shoots around his body. It even startles Cas, who gasps in his mind, the sensation yanking Cas from his hiding spot to the forefront of Dean’s mind.

‘Cas? What in the hell is this?’

‘I… I don’t understand. I remember… it was gone.’

‘Yeah. And now it’s back. You got any idea why?’

‘I… it… no, I don’t.’

“Is anyone going to tell me what’s happening?” Eileen asked, eying the giant scar on Dean’s shoulder with a mix of intrigue and horror.

“Dean had that scar a long time ago,” Sam answered, eyes flickering from the scar to Dean’s flabbergasted face. “When Cas pulled him out of Hell, he… kind of left a mark on Dean. It faded with time, but now…”

“It’s back? How is that even possible?”

“I have no idea…” Dean mumbled, coming back into the conversation. “And neither does Cas.”

“Right... so…” Sam punctuated with a sigh, gesturing to the open door of Dean’s bedroom. “Research?”

* * *

Miracle was more than happy to have the rest of her little family back together, periodically racing between their legs at the library table for some well-deserved pets (which, let’s be honest, was as great for them as it was for her).

“So, wait – you’re telling me that this guy was helping the spirit to kill people?” Dean asked.

“It’s where we got thrown off. Bodies were showing up around the same time, but some of them seemed to have knife wounds – not your usual weapon of choice for a vengeful spirit. Turns out that the guy’s wife made a lot of enemies. Enough to get a target painted on her back.” Sam answered.

“And then she decided to pick off her enemies even after death,” Eileen added. “Her husband was so desperate to help her pass on that he thought helping her finish her… task… would do that.”

Dean whistled in astonishment. “Damn… that’s kind of sad, actually. What did you do about the guy?”

“Passed the evidence onto the local police,” Sam said. “They took him in; no idea what they’ll do with him.”

“So, what about you?” Eileen asked Dean, crossing her arms and leaning against them atop the table. “Get anywhere with the research?”

“Oh yeah-,” Dean answered sarcastically. “-It’s all taken care of. I was actually joking before; Cas isn’t in my head anymore. He’s back in his body, just chilling in the kitchen.”

Sam gave Dean’s leg a swift kick under the table, quickly paling when he remembered Dean wouldn’t be able to feel that anymore. He was, however, able to see the movement underneath him, looking down to his leg swinging from the impact, and then up to his brother's horrified face. “Dude…”

Sam cleared his throat awkwardly, looking everywhere but at his older brother. “Let’s just… pretend that didn’t happen.”

“Not in your dreams, Sammy,” Dean answered with a grin before grabbing at the Men of Letter’s file he had left on the table. “And to answer your previous question seriously; This is the closest we came to finding something angel related.”

Dean offered up the file to Eileen, who gladly took it from his hands. “Whoa, weird; this file is really thick.”

Dean shrugged. “I think it’s just old paper. Plus, seems like this is one of those experiments by Sinclair that he didn’t really want the other Men of Letter’s interfering in. Wouldn’t be surprised if he tried to keep it as much as a secret as he could – hence the weird paper.”

“Wait – Sinclair?” Sam asked, looking up to Dean as Eileen passed him the file. “The collector?”

“That’s the one. And you’ll never guess who helped him with this little experiment…”

Sam scanned briefly over the document in his hands, feeling himself deflate as his eyes brushed over a familiar name. “Henry Winchester…”

“Winchester? Is he…?”

“Seems dear old Grandpa was involved in some seriously messed up stuff during his brief stint as a Man of Letters,” Dean said. “There’s some footage if you wanna see it, but… both me and Cas would strongly advise you don’t.”

‘I would much rather you burn the reel all together if I’m being honest.’

“How bad is it?” Sam asks cautiously, wondering if he even wants to read the file.

“They managed to snag an angel for themselves. You remember back when Gadreel had possessed you, and you were trying to extract his left-over grace?”

Sam shivered at the memory. “Yeah… I remember that damn needle…”

“Did the same thing,” Dean continued. “But they left some of the angel its grace. They thought that they could kill the angel, but leave the vessel alive that way – so long as they fuck up the vessel a ton so that the angel heals him, but burns itself out.”

“I’m guessing it didn’t work…” Eileen said.

Dean sighed. “Not in the slightest. They blew the poor guy up. Both were… gone. Just like that.”

Sam’s eyes dropped down to the paper in his hands, the weight of it suddenly feeling much heavier than before. “Did, uh… Did Cas see?”

“Course he did. He’s in my head,” Dean answered. “And before you ask, no; Cas didn’t know the guy personally. Or, uh – the angel personally. Knew his name though: Atheed.”

Sam’s face twisted with a guilt that wasn’t even his to feel. “Was he a good angel, or…?”

‘He was an obedient angel; he did what he’s told, as most do. You can deduct what you want from that.’

“He was a guy doing his job who got caught by the wrong people. Bad or good… that was a messed-up thing to do to him.”

“Makes me wonder how much of that kind of ‘work’ the Men of Letter did…” Eileen says softly, gently sliding the file out of Sam’s hands. “I suppose a lot of the knowledge we have today came from similarly cruel experiments… as sickening as that is to think of.”

“Yeah… and we’ve gotta siphon through all of those files to find anything angel or vessel related,” Sam gestures behind him at the multiple cabinets lining the wall. “I’m not sure if I wanna find out how many more cruel experiments Grandpa had a part in…”

“That makes two of us…” Dean mumbled in agreement, fighting back a groan at the thought of even more countless hours of research.

“What about Cas?” Sam asks, leaning back against his chair. “Does he have any idea?”

‘You hear that, Cas? You got anything?’

‘Well, I… No, no I haven’t.’

Dean’s eyes narrowed in suspicion at the hesitancy in Castiel’s voice echoing around his head, the shift in his expression garnering interest from both Sam and Eileen.

“What is it?” Sam asks. “Cas got something?”

“Dunno…” Dean said slowly. “Kind of sounds to me like someone is hiding something.”

‘I’m not hiding anything. An idea came to mind, but I believe it is a dead end. More than a dead-end in fact, I believe it is likely to get us either into a debt we cannot repay – or repaying causes us more trouble than it’s worth – or is just going to get us all killed.’

‘Come on Cas – we both know those kinds of ideas are the ones that usually work when it comes to our problems. Hop up in the driver’s seat and tell everyone.’

Dean could hear Cas’s long-suffering sigh deep within his mind. None the less, he felt that uncomfortable squeeze of pressure as Cas pushed himself to the front, sliding away into his own mind as he passes over the controls.

Both Sam and Eileen straightened in their seats at the sight of Dean’s glowing blue eyes; something about angel possession always making them uncomfortable, even when they know the angel in question.

“I’m guessing you have an idea?” Sam asks once the sheen of grace slips away from Dean’s eyes. It was odd - how it was Dean’s eyes looking at him, but Sam could see nothing but Cas behind those eyes. The stare was completely and unequivocally Cas.

“I do, unfortunately,” Cas replies in a strained voice. “Do you remember Sergei?”

“Sergei?” Sam asks, face scrunched in thought before the memories flood back. “The Russian guy?”

“What?” Eileen splutters, already looking none too pleased with the idea. “You mean that guy who nearly got Sam killed so he could bargain with us?”

‘He did what?’

“That’s the one,” Castiel replied dejectedly. “I don’t like the idea much either, but…”

“He did stop me from dying,” Sam offers awkwardly, able to feel the amped-up tension radiating from Eileen.

“Yeah – after Cas threatened his niece!” Eileen argued.

‘You did what?’

‘Sergei is… one of those men who only responds to violence. Somehow, I gained his respect through my threat. Though, I still worry about the consequences of it…’

“Still, he’s a pretty powerful guy, isn’t he? I mean, he managed to hide Gabriel from everyone, right?” Sam adds.

“It was one of the reasons I approached him in the first place,” Castiel agrees. “He is… knowledgeable, to say the least. So much so that British Men of Letters would frequently go to him for help.”

‘Huh… well, if those poncy up their asses British asshats came to him for help, then he must be good at what he does.’

“Yeah, okay, so he’s good,” Eileen reluctantly agreed. “But at what cost? Last I remember, he nearly got Sam killed trying to get something from you guys-,”

“The Key to Death’s Door,” Cas fills in the blanks for her.

“Right. I don’t know about you, but that doesn’t sound like something that should be in the hands of someone with that much power and knowledge. Who knows what he might ask for this time?”

“We don’t know until we ask, right?” Sam attempts to douse the paranoia rising. “If he’s as good as advertised…”

Castiel sighs, hands instinctively reaching for his trench-coat pockets before remembering what body he was in. “He once told me his job was ‘to solve the unsolvable.’ At this point… our problem seems to fit that title.”

Sam cleared his throat, shuffling on his seat as his gaze switched between Eileen’s displeased expression to Dean’s – or he supposed Cas’s – uneasy face. “So, question is: Is the risk worth it?”

‘I don’t like it.’

‘Neither do I.’

‘That settles it then. Get Sammy to call the douche up.’

Occasionally, Castiel believed the Winchester brothers were able to read each other’s minds; especially when the two were in the midst of a particularly challenging hunt. This was a thought that came to mind once more as, shortly after Dean had voiced his opinion, Sam let out a small sigh as he dug into his jean’s pockets and pulled out his mobile phone with a grim face of resignation.

“Alright, Cas. I hope you can remember his number…”

* * *

The booming, heavy knocks on the bunker’s metal door resounded around the bunker, its presence immediately heightening the tension that hung in the air ever since Sam had hung up the phone. Quite frankly, Castiel was surprised Sergei even bothered to pick up the phone – especially considering the fact that Sam's number would have shown up as ‘unknown caller’.

Eileen was the first to jump to her feet, having shifted into a ball of nerves as they awaited Sergei’s arrival. Sam stood from his chair beside her, easing her nerves ever slightly with a comforting but knowing touch to her shoulder.

Not a word was passed between the three. Dean, having regained back control, could only wheel after Sam as he steadily approached the staircase, coming to a stop at the bottom as both he and Eileen watch Sam carefully climb up step by step.

Sam pulled his pistol out from his back pocket as he reached the door, cocking it and aiming it in preparation towards the doorway as he yanks the door open.

Sergei glances down at the gun pointed towards his chest in mock surprise, holding up his hands in fake surrender. “I’m afraid I won’t be much help to you with a bullet in my chest,” He points out, nodding his head towards the pistol in Sam’s hands. “Unless you only wanted to lure me here to end me – in which case, I commend you for your plan.”

Sam glowers at the Russian, but lowers his gun down none the less – though keeps a firm hand wrapped around the handle. “You’ll have to forgive me. Last we met, you nearly killed me for your own gain.”

“Yes. And last I met you, your angel had one of his dogs stalk my niece, ready to pull the trigger at any moment,” Sergei fired back, stepping past Sam and onto the stair’s balcony. “I’d say we both have a reason to be wary of one another, wouldn’t you? Alas, I am still here-,”

Sam cut off Sergei with a snort. “Don’t pretend you’re here out of the goodness of your heart.”

Sergei nodded his head in acceptance. “Fair enough. Now, where-,”

Sergei stopped mid-sentence, eyes landing on Dean sat at the bottom of the stairs. A rather obnoxious grin stretched across the Shaman’s face that unsettled Dean, glaring up at the large man as he descended the stairs towards him with a tense-looking Sam in tow.

“Dean Winchester!” Sergei bellowed halfway down the stairs; arms outstretched either side of him in greeting. “I do not believe we ever had the pleasure of meeting.”

“Pleasure ain’t exactly a word I’d use,” Dean grumbled in response, backing away from the stairs as the Russian got closer. “But I’m willing to play nice for the time being.”

“Ah, but that’s how the world works, no?” Sergei asks once he reaches the bottom of the staircase, blocking Sam from going any further -much to the younger brother’s annoyance. “We play nice - so long as the other has what we need.”

Sergei’s eyes drifted up from Dean, landing on Eileen’s fiery gaze locked on him. The confident grin on his face waivered by the slightest, but remained there. “Ah, but you I remember. Good hand strength.”

Eileen’s glare didn’t budge. “And you best remember that.”

Sergei exhaled sharply in amusement – along with a hint of admiration – glancing back at Sam over his shoulder. He stepped to the side, allowing Sam to take the last steps down and join his brother and Eileen.

“Now, if we’re done with the threats…” Sergei announced with a clap of his hands. “How about we get down to the reason I’m here? Is it true, what I was told on the phone?”

“Yes,” Dean answered curtly, raising a hand to tap at the side of his head. “Cas is up here – with me.”

“Fascinating…” The Russian drawled out, tilting his head to the side as he took Dean in. “Angels are… not usually ones to give up control so freely…”

“Cas ain't like most angels,” Dean shot back. “And that’s why he’s the only one of ‘em that matters. But it can’t last forever-,”

“Oh, I know,” Sergei interrupted Dean, who had to bite on his tongue to stop himself from cutting into Sergei’s sentence, solely out of spite. “A little birdie told me about your trip to the Empty, Castiel… I was rather disheartened to hear this – considering you still owe me that favor. I can only imagine the sorry state your grace must be in… Do tell me; how did you manage to escape from its clutches? Again?”

“That would be because of me,” Dean answered for Cas.

“Hmmm…” Sergei hummed in interest. “I wonder; do you say that as a declaration of accomplishment, or as taking the blame?”

“Neither,” Dean got out between gritted teeth. “It was a… mutual agreement. I was… well, to put it bluntly, I was dying.”

“Naturally,” Sergei said dryly, glancing from Dean over to Sam and Eileen. “I heard a lot about you Winchesters from the British’s grievances… Your apparent aversion to death.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well, it should have been it this time. Right before I was about to go, I… I sent out one last prayer to Cas.”

“Even though he was dead?” Sergei asked, clearly perplexed by this.

“Especially because he was dead…” Dean answered softly, his answer only serving to throw Sergei off even more. “Anyway, next thing I know, there’s a portal opening up in front of me. Cas stepped through; this big mess of… sludge that I didn’t even recognize as him at first.”

“Interesting… I suppose that explains why, well…” Sergei off handely gestured at Dean. “I assume Castiel is the only thing keeping you held together?”

“No. I’m healed – mostly. I wouldn’t die if he left, if that’s what you’re trying to get at.”

“Then… why hasn’t Castiel left for another vessel?”

“He can’t,” Sam answers, dragging Sergei’s attention over to him once more. “And that’s why we need your help.”

“Ah… now I understand why you were so insistent on recreating his vessel when we spoke over the phone…” Sergei proclaimed, nodding his head minutely along with his own realization. “It’s about his grace, isn’t it?”

The uncomfortable looks shared between Eileen and the two brothers was the answer Sergei was looking for.

“Oh yes, I know about Heaven’s little problem,” Sergei told them. “Last I heard, even the few angels that reside up there are struggling… but you Castiel… it has been a while since you’ve felt yourself at full power, isn’t it?”

There it was again. That faint electric buzz that shot out from his head, spreading around his body. He wondered if this was Cas’s grace acting out inside him, trying to gain possession as it acts on Cas’s emotions, either with or without Cas’s control.

Which reminds him…

“That’s not all,” Dean’s word brought Sergei’s full attention back to him, roughly yanking up his t-shirt sleeve to reveal the raw-looking scar that somehow seemed to have raised even more in the past few hours.

Sergei’s brows practically shot up to his hairline at the sight in front of him, instantly able to sense the grace that was settled within that one patch of damaged skin on Dean’s arm. The surprise shifted to an amused and downright delighted grin, leaning back with a belly laugh so out of nowhere that it nearly had Sam reaching for his pistol.

‘Dean, I don’t think this is a good idea-,’

“Oh-ho, Castiel – you sly dog!” Sergei got out once his bouts of laughter were over, though his tone still one full of amusement. “How did your superiors not kill you for such an indiscretion? They must have been furious! Especially Michael - he mustn’t have appreciated you leaving such a mark on his vessel!”

‘The hell is he talking about, Cas?’

‘I said this wasn’t a good idea, Dean…’

“W – Why would they have killed him?” Sam asked, still rather taken aback by Sergei’s sudden outburst of laughter. “Cas said the mark was left there from where he pulled Dean out of Hell. He was just doing his job, right?”

“That is… partly true,” Sergei said. “But this right here? This is a mark of ownership. Angels leave such a brand on humans they intend to claim, almost as an offering – a proposition if you will – to the human who’s mark they leave.”

“Wait, what?” Dean spluttered, his voice rising in volume without his control. “You telling me Cas claimed me?”

There went Eileen and Sam with those knowing looks again…

‘Cas, what the hell? You saw me in Hell and decided – what – that I was your property?’

‘No! It wasn’t… the claim wasn’t intentional… I… I got carried away, okay? You have to understand – ALL of my life, my billions upon billions of years of existence had led up to this moment. The ONE job I had, and I was so proud to be the one to bear it. The angel intended to raise the righteous man from perdition. After what felt like years of battling through swarms of demons and other Hell filth… there you were. And your soul was so bright, so… you were everything you were described to be, and more. You were MY charge. MY human to watch over. And in that moment I held you to my chest as I pulled you out, my arms wrapped around you… As I said, I got carried away. I hadn’t even realized I had left the brand on your soul until I rebuilt your body.’

“Is he… having a stroke?” Sergei broke the uncomfortable silence that had filled the room.

“No… That’s what he looks like when he’s talking to Cas in his head.” Sam said, shuffling awkwardly on the spot as he waited for the focus to come back into Dean’s eyes.

“Okay, so… Cas left this mark on me. We’ve established that.” Dean mumbled as he came back to reality, Cas’s confession leaving him with an oddly hollow yet warming feeling, the two juxtapositions fighting for dominance. “But why did it come back?”

“Come… back?” Sergei questioned.

“After a while, it kind of just… faded away,” Dean explained, experimentally probing at the scar. Just like last time, that same static electricity jolted out from the contact. “And now it’s returned, but we have no friggen clue why. It’s not like it started coming back as soon as Cas possessed me, it just seems to have all of a sudden… pop up again.”

“May I?” Sergei asks, gesturing a hand to the scar on his shoulder. The very last thing Dean wants is to have this guy touching the mark – and judging by the angry buzzing in his veins again, Cas wasn’t too thrilled at the idea either – but it wasn’t like they had any other ideas to fall back onto.

Sergei takes Dean’s silence as ‘not a no’, stepping up to his side and placing his hand atop the hand-shaped scar on Dean’s arm. His hand doesn’t quite fit the same way that Cas’s hand did, and Dean feels his body instinctively try to move away from the wrong hand on Cas’s mark. It wasn’t Cas’s touch on his arm, and it seemed like the scar itself didn’t want it. Just this feeling of wrongness that had the functioning parts of his body recoiling, face scrunching in discomfort that got Sam and Eileen on high alert.

“What are you doing?” Eileen demanded sharply, hands reaching for the knife stored in her jacket.

Sergei has his eyes firmly shut, his back turned to the two like he didn’t fear them in the slightest. “I am analyzing the scar, as was requested of me. Though… it appears that Castiel here does not want me doing so… Or, at least, his grace does not. That is quite the claim you put on him, Castiel…”

Sergei’s eyes snapped back open, the removal of his hand from Dean’s arm a great relief to both Dean and Castiel.

“So?” Dean pressed, shaking his left arm in an attempt to shake off the ‘wrong’ feeling that lingered. “Find out anything?”

“I have two theories – which may be connected,” Sergei answered, glancing down at his own hand with his palm facing towards him, as if he could still feel the grace surging through Dean. “The first is that this is a result of Castiel’s presence inside you. The only other grace I sensed within Dean was Michael, the Archangel; so I assume this is Castiel’s first time possessing you?”

Dean nodded in response.

“I thought so. Whilst the scar itself has faded, the grace leftover from the mark would have remained inside you. Perhaps, now that the entirety – or, at least what remains – of Castiel’s grace has entered your body, it’s mixing with the grace that was already in your system caused a reaction; forcing the mark to return to the surface. However-,”

“That still wouldn’t make sense,” Sam butted in, about to fill in with what was going to be Sergei’s next point anyway. “It should have shown up immediately if that was the case, wouldn’t it?”

“Precisely,” Sergei agreed.

“So… why is it only showing up now?” Eileen asked. “What’s the second theory?”

The amusement on Sergei’s face had disappeared completely now. His gaze had been fixated on Dean ever since he had felt the mark for himself, a look of… actually, Dean wasn’t too sure what the look was. Pity? Disgust? Sympathy? Sadness?

“Are you going to tell him, Castiel?” Sergei asked. Though his eyes were locked with Dean’s it felt like he was looking straight past Dean, trying to reach the angel that was harbored within. “If you don’t – I will.”

‘Cas… look, whatever this is… I’d rather hear it from you, okay?’

‘Dean, I… I don’t…’

‘Do you know what he’s talking about? Do you… do you know the answer?’

‘I… yes. I think so yes. But Dean, it’s… I don’t see how… I just can't. I can’t…’

“Just tell me,” Dean grated out, knowing this wasn’t going to be an argument he could win.

“I believe…” Sergei began, words trailing off as his line of sight dropped from Dean’s face back to the distractingly reddish scar. “…The reason the scar faded with time is simply because you did not accept the claim, Dean. To be expected, since you didn’t even know what it was. It is back now because, to put it bluntly… you have accepted the claim.”

The silence that followed these words had to be the most uncomfortable few seconds of Dean’s life. Sergei looked like he was regretting ever coming to this place, whilst Sam and Eileen weren’t sure whether they were supposed to be looking at Dean, Sergei, each other, or the floor.

“Not that it matters to the actual problem,” Sergei added rather late, the additional information a blessing to break the uncomfortable tension they were in. “That is why I’m here, is it not?”

“Right…” Sam said blankly, shaking his head as he tried to bring himself back to reality. “Right! Yeah, uh… so, what do you think? Can it be done?”

“No,” The single word Sergei uttered was enough to kick all the air out of Dean’s lungs. “Or at least, not to my knowledge. I could look into it further but, quite frankly… I do not see the point.”

“What?” Eileen spat, pushing past Sam’s calming hold and towards the towering Russian.

“I was quite certain from our conversation on the phone that it was not possible,” Sergei replied with a shrug of his shoulders.

Dean could feel the rage that was Castiel burning inside him, the heat of it only fanning the fire of his own temper. “Then why the hell did you bother coming here?”

“Call it curiosity,” Sergei took a few cautious steps away from the pissed off faces that surrounded him. “Castiel… I’ve lost count of the amount of ‘favors’ you’ve owed me… and usually, your ‘favors’ have been nothing more than not murdering me or my loved ones. Quite frankly… you have been a thorn in my side – and so what reason would I have to put myself out to keep you alive?”

Dean’s grip on the wheels of his chair was so tight that he could feel the rubber material peeling away from underneath the force of his nails. He could feel the anger churning away inside him, ready to burst out with one wrong word…

“And besides…” Sergei continued, most definitely the wrong choice to make. The gloating, obnoxious grin was back on his face as he stepped closer to Dean, ignoring the gun Sam had drawn and currently had pointed at him. “Mostly… after what your brother told me Dean, I couldn’t miss out on an opportunity to see Castiel reduced to such a pathetic, weak form…”

That did it.

Except, it wasn’t Dean’s anger that boiled over. Castiel’s push to regain control was more like a shove, practically thrown to the back of his mind as Castiel took over. Sergei didn’t even flinch as the furious green eyes glaring at him flashed with a burning fiery blue, steadily brightening in its intensity as Castiel’s grace collected together, the violent and disastrous power it was capable of brimming just underneath Dean’s skin…

Sergei only ‘tsked’ in response to the display of power, his disgustingly sly grin widening to reveal a row of misaligned, discolored teeth. “Careful there, Castiel… You don’t want to use up too much of your burning grace, now do you? At the rate it’s disintegrating at… I wouldn’t risk it.”

Sergei wrongly assumed he had won as he saw those flaring blue eyes revert back to the sharp green ones of Dean Winchester. Though, that couldn’t be further from the truth. It hadn’t been Castiel’s choice to give back control. Rather, Dean had forced himself back into the driver’s seat as his fury propelled him forward, only just settling back into possession of his own body as his arm shoots out, catching the Russian by surprise as Dean’s hand wraps around his throat, squeezing it tight to clinch Sergei’s windpipe shut, staring up at the flailing Russian in repulsion.

“You listen here…” Dean growled at him in warning. Sam began to lower his gun down to the floor, knowing Dean had complete control over the situation – even if he didn’t exactly have control over himself right now.

“You wanna know the reason you’re here?” Dean continued, tightening his grip just a little more as Sergei attempted to pull away. “Why you, your niece, your acquaintances, everyone you love, everyone on this Earth - and every other damn Earth out there - is here? Because me, Sam, Cas, and our kid? We kicked God’s ass. Jack brought everyone back, and you know what? That wouldn’t have happened without Cas saving my life. That wouldn’t have happened without Cas insisting that Jack was good, that Jack would one day help to save the world. All of this wouldn’t be possible without Cas, so how about you show him a little bit of goddamn respect.”

Dean released his grip on Sergei's throat once the Russian’s face had shifted through a good few shades of purple. He stumbled back from the unexpected release, all but crashing into the metal barrier of the bunker’s staircase.

Sergei raised a hand to his already bruising throat, bulging eyes darting between all three of them. “What is it with you people and choking…”

“I suggest you get the hell out of our home,” Dean said. “Or like you said; you won't be doing much with a bullet in your chest.”

Sergei glanced back down to the pistol still held firmly in Sam’s hand, finger inching towards the gun’s trigger. “Alright, alright!” He said in defeat, backing up the staircase as to keep his eyes on the Winchesters – and the other weapons he knew they were likely carrying.

The fury burning away in Dean’s veins – that of which he wasn’t sure was entirely his, or Cas’s – only ebbed away in the slightest once the Russian disappeared beyond the front door with a grumble of: “Thick-headed Americans…”

“So…” Eileen was the first to speak up, just barely resisting the urge to head up the bunker's stairs to double-check the door had locked itself. “That went about as well as I thought it would…”

“We’re not dead, so that’s a plus.” Sam offered.

“You guys have really low levels of expectations…”

“I mean… we did find out some information,” Sam pointed out. “Like, uh… we know why the mark is back…”

Sam turned his worried gaze back to his brother, who was being uncharacteristically quiet. Usually, he would chalk this up to another one of the ‘private conversations’ between Dean and Cas, but… that wasn’t what this looked like. Dean didn’t have that unseeing sheen over his eyes. He was staring directly at the floor ahead of him, jaw clenched so hard that it would surely ache something awful.

“Dean…?” Sam called his name timidly. “Dean, what’s wrong?”

“You better tell me the truth here, Cas,” Dean said out loud, voice calm and steady in that detached way where your anger has passed new limits. “Were you hiding shit from us? Again?”

The only thing in Dean’s mind were his own thoughts. He could barely feel Cas’s presence, the only indicator that he was still here with him being that almost undetectable hum of something otherworldly settled in every cell of his body.

The coward was hiding.

“Don’t you run away from me,” Dean hissed out, the outburst of anger catching both Sam and Eileen off guard. “Was that Russian dickhead telling the truth? Is your grace running out?”

A few seconds tick by in the unnaturally still bunker. Somewhere from within, Miracle whines; her high-pitched note of displeasure at her owner’s palpable anger piercing the uncomfortable quietness.

Castiel does not answer.

* * *

That night… Dean dreams of the Impala.

He dreams of endless miles of jet black tarmac and worn road markings rumbling underneath her pristine tires. He dreams of beautiful Kansas countrysides: of rolling green fields and tall, golden crops waving gently in the evening's cool breeze as they flash by his window.

He dreams of the perfect night sky. Pitch black nothingness, dotted with bright, beautiful stars that seemed to light his way as he drove.

Baby’s worn interior was bathed in an intermittent golden glow of the overhead street lights as he passes under them; the occasional flashes of light giving sight to his cracked and scarred knuckles tightly gripped around her leather steering wheel, hoping that the monotonous motions of driving would help to ease some of the tension in his body.

He dreams of Castiel.

Or, more accurately, Castiel decides to stop being a coward and face him.

There’s no indication of Castiel’s sudden presence in the passenger seat. No flap of wings to give away his arrival. One second the seat was empty, the next it was filled by an anxiety-filled angel that stared resolutely at the road in front. It had been a long time since Cas had unexpectedly showed up in his car like that, so you’d expect him to flinch just a little. Maybe jolt in his seat, maybe ever jerk the steering wheel to the side and struggle to get Baby back under his control as his racing heart returns back to its normal speed.

Instead, his grip on the wheel tightens even more. He hears the leather screech in protest under his suffocating hands.

“Hello, Dean.”

Castiel stayed silent next to him.

“Is it true?” Dean repeated his question once more. “Is your grace burning out anyway? Even when you’re not using it?”

“Yes.”

Dean thought that hearing Cas tell the truth would make him even angrier than it already was. Strangely, though, it did not. Perhaps because he was already expecting the answer. Perhaps because he was prepared for Cas to try and dance around the issue by creating a series of elaborate lies that threw him off the scent.

The anger was still there, however. How could it not? But it was accompanied by another feeling. One that’s been plaguing him a lot lately.

He felt… tired.

“Is it… is it because of me?” Dean asked. “Are you burning through your grace to keep me alive?”

“No,” Castiel asserted strongly. “This isn’t because of you. My grace, it… it was already fading, Dean. Coming back from the Empty, being placed in a vessel that is not mine… Your body is able to accommodate me, Dean – considering you were built with the ability to withstand an Archangels grace… my grace is doing no damage to you. It is simply… unable to sustain itself no longer.”

“How long have you known?” Dean was pretty sure he didn’t even want to know the answer to this question. Mostly because…

“I knew as soon as I possessed you.”

Yep. That was why.

“You know from the beginning? This whole time, and you-,”

The anger boiled over for a moment. Dean cursed sharply as he slammed his fist into the solid frame of her steering wheel, the sound startlingly loud in the quiet of Baby’s interior.

“You should have told us,” Dean scolded him. “As soon as you realized, you should have told us! Told me! We could-,”

“You could what?” Castiel interrupted him. “What could you have done different, Dean?”

“Lots of stuff!” Dean shot back. “We could have got me out of the hospital earlier! Sam and Eileen could have stayed put and helped us with the research instead of going on that hunt!”

“And let countless of innocent lives perish? Do you think I’m worth that?”

“Yes!” Dean’s yell boomed around the car, whipping his head to face Castiel for the first time, who could only stare at Dean in astonishment. “When are you going to realize it, you idiot! You’re everything to me! Sam and Eileen could have passed that hunt onto another pair of hunters! And- fuck – there we are messing about in my dumb dreams, having stupid fucking beach vacations and kicking back beers when I could have been doing something to save you!”

Castiel leveled him with that cool, steely blue gaze. “I am going to die, Dean. My grace is going to burn away. I am sorry, but that is what’s going to happen.”

“No Cas, we’re going to-,”

“No, you’re not,” Castiel said sharply, voice raising to match Dean’s ticked off tone. “We both know that recreating my vessel isn’t going to happen, Dean. I would have thought Sergei’s assessment of the situation would have clued you into that by now.”

“So what?” Dean said. “You just… strung us along? Pretended that everything would be fine, that you believed there was a way too?”

“Yes.”

“What the hell FOR?!” Dean's voice rose sharply once again. “Why would you bother when-,”

“Maybe you should look at it from my perspective for once in your stubborn life, Dean!” This was one of the rare times Castiel raised his voice at him, and it never failed to shut him up the second he heard it. “I accepted my end the day I took the Empty’s deal! Knowing that in my death, I was able to save you? I was content with that. Coming back from the Empty on what I knew from the start would be nothing more than borrowed time… it’s been a blessing. Do you know why?”

Dean could only stare blankly at Castiel in numb shock.

“Because of you. Your ‘dumb’ dreams have been some of my own deepest desires, Dean! In what other scenario would I ever get to do such things? Even the simple ones, ones where it’s just us. Just us in the bunker, talking. I am grateful for this extra time, because it’s extra time with you. So yes, maybe I preferred ‘stringing you along’ and pretending that there was a chance. Perhaps I preferred being able to spend the last few days I have on this Earth in your dreams, by your side, instead of hours hunched over a desk table doing research I know leads to nowhere! Maybe that makes me selfish, but for once, I think I’m entitled to that little bit of happiness. Even if only for a little while.”

Baby’s tires squeal against the road as Dean slams his foot onto the brakes, leaving behind black burn marks on the road as the Impala comes to a sudden spot on the empty road. Dean’s chest heaves with heavy intakes of breath like he’s just ran a damn marathon, fingers trembling as they remain gripped tight around the steering wheel. “You… you can’t-,”

“I can’t what?” Castiel asks in that slow, dejected tone Dean hates hearing from him.

“You… how can… fuck!”

Dean promptly throws open Baby’s door, jumping out of his seat and slamming the door closed behind him. The cold, biting air does wonders to calm him down, taking in deep lungfuls of the night air as he attempts to clear his mind. With a shake of his head, he wanders over the front of Baby’s hood and perches himself down, burying his head into his hands in the hopes he’ll wake from the nightmare.

Because that’s what it was, now. A nightmare. Now he knows his one deepest fear will become true. He’s going to lose Cas. Again. And perhaps, worst of all… Cas seems to have given up the fight himself. Knowing this, and knowing what Castiel had just told him…

He’s sure he’s going to say or do something very, very dumb.

The hinges to Baby’s doors creak as they’re pushed open, followed by the dull thud of it being closed much softer (and with more respect, if Dean’s being honest with himself) than he had. Dean hears the soft, padded footsteps of shoes against the asphalt, then the feeling of the hood dipping as an extra weight is added. He can feel the warmth of Cas’s body bleeding into the cold air next to him, only mere inches away. Of course he would… That was his thing. Plenty of space to stand or sit, and Cas always chose to get as close to Dean as humanly possible.

Always.

“I’m sorry,” Castiel is the first to apologize. “I thought… perhaps it would be a kindness, to not tell you. To let your last memories of me be… of us ‘messing about in your dumb dreams’… I didn’t want you to worry.”

Dean pulls his head out of his hands at this, staring vacantly at the never-ending stretch of road ahead. “Why’s it always gotta be us, Cas? Why are we always dealt the shit cards…”

“Because that’s life,” Castiel responded, keeping his gaze fixed on his hands as they hung loosely between his knees. “It’s not often fair. And can sometimes be seen as downright cruel, but… I think that’s because we often focus on the negatives, more than the positives. They seem… bigger, somehow. More impactful. Sometimes, we have to stop focusing on the negatives so much. Don’t let them build up on you. Then… the positives seem just that little bit bigger.”

“Yeah, well… don’t know how many of the positives there’s gonna be when you’re gone, Cas. I… I can never seem to say goodbye to you.”

“This go around… you have more time. I know you’ll find the words.” Castiel said softly, turning his head to the side to look to Dean. “And even if you don’t… that’s okay. You were never a man of many words, Dean Winchester. You’re more… a man of action.”

Dean almost managed to laugh at that. “Yeah? How so?”

“Subtle things I’ve picked up over the years,” Castiel replied. “The pat of your arms on my back as you hug me. Your grasp on my thigh, when I returned from the death by that reapers hand. Your hand squeezing my shoulder as you wrap a blanket around my cursed body… brushing a hand over my growing stubble in Purgatory… the lingering touch of your hand on mine whenever I was saved from the brink of death…”

Castiel’s face broke out into a soft, sad smile as he reached the end of his list, finally raising his eyes up to lock with Dean’s. “You say more with your actions than I think you intend. But that’s okay. Your own personal language is the one out of hundreds that I valued learning the most.”

Dean could only hold the eye contact for a few seconds more after that, dropping back down to his lap as Castiel’s words whirled around his head. “Do, uh… Do you even know how long you have left before…?”

“At its current rate… I’d say a month at most. Perhaps a few weeks.”

“A few…?” Is all Dean can get out before his throat constricts, cutting him off. “Then what? You’re just… gone?”

“As I said before - I’m not too sure on what happens. Either I’ll simply burn away, or… I am forced to take control of you. Which is why there’s something I need to ask of you, Dean.”

Dean didn’t like the sound of that one bit. “…What?”

“When the time comes… when my grace is nearly all burnt out… I am going to very weak,” Castiel’s eyes were burning into the side of his head, something that Dean couldn’t ignore. “I am… worried, to say the least; that the second option will be what occurs when it runs out completely. I can not allow that to happen. Do you understand me, Dean?”

“I… No, not really?”

“There’s a good chance that I will be so weak, I am unable to eject myself from your body,” Castiel continued in answer, reaching out a hand to rest on Dean’s shoulder. Dean bit back a gasp as the electricity shot through his body once more, even though there was a layer of flannel stopping Cas’s hand from touching the scar directly.

“If that is to happen…” Castiel continued, his voice firm with his urgency. “You are to forcefully eject me, Dean.”

“What?” Dean snapped, disgusted with even the thought of doing such a thing. “Cas, I could never-,”

“I need you to promise me,” Cas said firmly, tightening his hold on Dean’s shoulder. “I could never, ever, live with myself If I did that to you. When I tell you to, you will revoke your permission. Do you understand?”

“Cas, you… you can’t expect me to do this…” Dean said, voice utterly broken.

“I need your word. Promise me you’ll eject me when the time comes, Dean. Otherwise, I’ll leave right now-,”

“NO!” Dean shot out a hand to wrap around the arm on his shoulder, keeping Cas firmly in place. “Don’t you even think about it. We… there’s still a chance.”

“Dean-,”

“There’s still a chance,” Dean insisted, his fingers scrunching in the familiar scratchy material of Cas’s trench-coat. “We still have a few more weeks at least to find something. But if we don’t… dammit… okay… I promise, Cas. I’ll… I’ll do it.”

Dean felt the grip on his shoulder relax at his promise, releasing his own hold on Castiel’s arm and letting the angel's hand slip away. Immediately, he could feel the scar on his shoulder ache, keenly missing its owner’s touch.

“We’ll find a way,” Dean promised him quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “We will.”

“You can try,” Castiel replied, gazing up at the night sky. “And that’s already more than I can ask of you.”

Looking to Cas, drinking in the subtle, relaxed smile on the angel's face as he was bathed in the ethereal silver glow of the moon, was when a question popped into Dean Winchester’s head. It was one he had been actively avoiding for… well, from the second Castiel had made that confession. That world turning, gut-punching, revelation of a confession.

“Hey, Cas?”

“Hmm?” Castiel hummed low in response, keeping his gaze on the beautiful display of stars above.

“When did you realize you were in love with me?”

The relaxed smile slipped away at Dean’s words, his throat visibly shifting as he swallowed down his nerves.

“We both know we can’t pretend it never happened,” Dean said.

“I wasn’t pretending,” Castiel said. “I didn’t mention it for your sake. I assumed you didn’t want to talk about it.”

“Yeah… not too sure if I can… but this is me, trying.”

“I suppose it is…” Castiel said. He still couldn’t look at Dean.

“So… do you know when-,”

“When I watched you rake the leaves.”

“…When you… what?”

“It was in Fall,” Castiel elaborated. “Back in two thousand and ten. This was… when you were living with Lisa Braeden and her son. When Heaven was on the verge of Civil war, and I had not long after recovered Sam from Hell. I was… desperate. Desperate for an answer. For help. You were the first person I thought of Dean. Of course you were.”

“But… you didn’t come to me…” Dean said. “I would remember that. You went with Crowley instead… you ripped open Purgatory for its souls…”

“I went to you,” Castiel maintained. “But you couldn’t see me. I kept myself hidden. I… I couldn’t bring myself to tear you away from your new life. For once, you looked at peace. You had, miraculously, found a way out of the Hunter’s life. And I couldn’t bear to be the one that brought you back in.”

“You should have,” Dean argued, but with no heat to his voice. This was an argument they had many years ago, now.

“Perhaps… but you know what was strange, Dean? As I watched you there, performing such a simple chore… I felt jealousy. A strange emotion, and one I had yet to fully comprehend… What was I jealous of? At first, I thought, perhaps, I wanted to take your place. To be free of the burden of my responsibilities. No more Heaven, no more fighting between my brothers and sisters… No more apocalypses, no more choosing sides… I thought that, somehow… I wanted to become human. To exist in a world where my biggest worries were taxes and maintaining the yard…”

“I’m guessing by the ‘at first’ that it wasn’t the reason you were jealous?”

“No, it was not,” Castiel agrees. “I was not jealous of you… I was jealous of Lisa. It’s wasn’t your place I wanted to take… it was hers. I wanted to be the one you came home to. I wanted to be the one that laughed with you in the kitchen as we prepared dinner. I wanted to be the one to stand by the window and watch you as you raked the leaves in our yard. I wanted you. It was then… that was when I realized I had fallen for you, Dean Winchester. And in realizing that… I knew I couldn’t take you away from the small piece of happiness you had found. So…”

“So, you went with Crowley…” Dean finished for him.

“Yes… and I believe you know the rest.”

“So… Jesus, that’s… what, ten years? Ten years, Cas? How… how did you hold onto that for so long?”

The corner of Cas’s lips curled up, huffing out a small laugh. “It’s not something I had to ‘hold onto’, more… it was what drove me. No matter how dark or pointless everything seemed… I had to keep trying. Not just because it's the right thing, but because… because you never gave up. Because I had you, and with you I had Sam, I had Jack, I had Claire, and Jody, and… well, through you, I had family. I had a reason.”

“Wow, uh…” Dean mumbled, awkwardly shuffling his legs atop the Impala. “You know, I uh… I’m not used to hearing stuff like that, man. Most girls that throw themselves out me, are, well… let’s say they’re not in it for who I am, more…”

“There is no denying you’re a very attractive human, Dean,” Castiel told him. For some reason, hearing Cas calling him attractive in a way that was – well, Cas like – brought a dusting of red to his face. “But your physical appearance is not the part of you that caught my attention.”

“Is it my plucky attitude?”

Cas pretended that he didn’t hear that amazing comment. “In those times where I see you doubt yourself… when you judge yourself so harshly… I wish I could give you my vision. Your soul, Dean, its… its light is what guided me to you in Hell. Even when we were down there, and you had been twisted by torture… I had never seen anything so beautiful.”

Dean laughed awkwardly – the only reaction he can fall back onto – scratching at the back of his head. “Come on… can’t be that special… I imagine it’s got quite a few blemishes…”

Cas looked to Dean’s steadily reddening face, listening to Dean ramble in his deflections with a soft sigh. “Like I said… if only you could see.”

Dean risked a glance over to Cas, only to see the angel had returned his gaze back to the splattering of stars overhead. He turned his face in the same direction, feeling himself relax as he fell back into a routine he had done many times with Sam. Watching the stars… it was the one consistent moment of peace they were able to find on the road. Throughout all the moments of chaos, traveling from one hunt to another, one shitty rundown motel to another… the night sky was always there, waiting.

Dean watches in awe as a stream of light shoots across the sky, moving so quickly it was gone in a few blinks of an eye. Then there was another. And another. And another, and another. Shooting stars, speeding across the night sky like brushes of white paint across a dark canvas.

“Do you see that Dean?” Castiel asks him calmly, raising a hand to point a finger at the streaming stars. “The stars weep when they see you Dean Winchester, for they know they could never shine as bright.”

The words seem to suck all the air out of his lungs. Dean tears his eyes away from the night sky, looking to Castiel in dumbfoundment that the angel could make such a declaration. Castiel was still looking up at the sky though, that relaxed smile on his face like he hadn’t just said yet another thing that sent Dean’s head spinning.

“I still remember the day God placed the stars in the sky. This Galaxy was the first he made, of course. The Sun was the first part of it created, and was already there before I was created myself… Back then, as you can imagine, God was… he was… I don’t even have the words for it. He was our creator, our father – I don’t think ‘love’ is an adequate enough word.”

“Yeah, I get it,” Dean said. “You didn’t know what Chuck was yet…”

“No, we didn’t. Life on Earth had yet to even begin. Space was just… that. Space. Darkness… One day, God turned to us and said ‘How about we fill in the blanks?’, and then… it was truly remarkable to see, Dean. It took him so long to do, used so much energy… Now, thinking back on it, the time seemed to go by in the blink of an eye, but at the end of it? There was this. What was once a blanket of nothingness was filled with these small dots of light. They seemed so insignificant from afar, but to know they were these giant balls of light… It was then, actually. God had spent all that time working, creating, utterly exhausted, and yet… seeing the stars is, I believe, when he had the idea for Souls. Each more powerful than a hundred suns… There was never doubt from us, and yet when he did it… I didn’t think I would ever get to see something more beautiful than the first soul. I was proven wrong, billions of years later, when I laid eyes upon yours.”

And that’s when Dean knew.

No, not knew… That’s not the right word. It wasn’t like a punch to the gut, kick to the head moment of realization. It wasn’t something that had him running for the hills, doubting everything he thought he knew about himself.

It was more like… accepting. Acknowledging it.

He was in love with Cas.

For all he knew, it could have been as long as Cas had known. It certainly wasn’t ‘love at first sight’ or any crap like that. No, he was downright terrified of Cas the first time he saw him. Maybe a little admiration, sure. It’s not every day you meet an Angel; one that pulled you out of Hell on God’s orders no less. And it sure as hell took him some time after that to warm up to him. But somewhere along the way, this long winding journey of theirs… he had fallen for Cas.

It had come naturally. It wasn’t destiny either. He hated that word. There was no way in hell that Chuck wrote this in as some weird, perverted love story. It just wasn’t his style, because then it would give Dean some little semblance of happiness, and he knows Chuck did all he could to keep him from that.

It didn’t happen all of a sudden. It just… happened.

When he tried to think of himself getting out of the hunter life, settling into that domestic civilian one… he could never see it. Mostly because… he always thought he’d be alone that way. Sam would go on and live his own life, and where would that leave him? Whenever he tried to imagine himself meeting someone, picturing that person by his side… the face was always blank. Which is perhaps why he could never see the whole thing working out. And now, taking in the sight of his angel smiling so peacefully as he recounts the few memories he has of a God that seemed to care… he lets himself feel it. He lets himself fill in the blank face with Cas’s…

And it just fits.

Castiel began talking again, snapping Dean out of his thoughts. “Dreams are fascinating, aren’t they? A survival mechanism built into your subconscious…. Did you know that’s why nightmares are so common? It’s almost like… a form of training. A way for your brain to act out the stresses in your waking life… but then you can also dream of incredible things.”

A smile creeps across Dean’s face as he listens to Cas talk so enthusiastically, watching as he waves his hand to gesture all around them.

“Take this, for example! I know it’s not possible with all humans, and it’s incredibly rare, but the fact that you can sometimes find a way to take control of your dreams! With one single thought, with one wave of the hand-,” Castiel waves his hand across the sky above them, creating another batch of strikingly vivid shooting stars that trailed after his hand. “-You can have anything you desire.”

“Anything, huh?” Dean asks, unable to wipe the giddy smile off his face.

“Yes, anything!” Castiel repeated firmly, finally tearing his eyes from the night sky back down to Dean. “Anything you can-,”

Dean leans across the hood of the Impala, wrapping a hand around Castiel’s familiar blue tie and yanking him closer. Cas’s words stutter off as Dean’s lips crash into his, feeling Dean’s other hand grasping tightly at the lapel of his trench-coat.

Dean tries to fight down his concern that Cas isn’t kissing him back. In fact, Cas isn’t doing much of anything other than sitting there frozen like a block of ice. When he pulls away from Cas, he’s met with blue eyes wider than he’s ever seen, and a look of both awe and horror on the angel's face.

“Why did you do that?” Castiel whispers to him, raising a hand to his still tingling lips.

“That’s kind of a stupid question, isn’t it?” Dean retaliated.

“Dean, you-,” Castiel stops, shaking his head with his eyes scrunched closed. “Please… don’t do it like this… Not like this…”

Dean frowned at the sight of Cas scooting away from him. “What are you talking about, man?”

“I know you feel bad for me…” Castiel said. “I know that you feel guilty for the way things were left when the Empty took me. And now, knowing that I don’t have long left… I don’t want this to happen out of guilt, Dean. Because you think it’s how to say goodbye, or because… because you think it’ll make me feel better.”

“Hey, hey, hey – this ain’t pity,” Dean insists, his frown deepening. “And it sure as hell ain’t a goodbye. I told you Cas; we’re gonna find a way to keep you here. You know why?”

Castiel only stares warily at him in response.

“Because we’re making our own damn destinies now. We’re writing our own story, and guess what, Cas? You’re in mine. We’re gonna get you your body back. Then me and you and gonna take Miracle for long walks in the woods. We’re gonna watch all those classic movies I promised I’d watch with you. We’re gonna have those lazy Sunday mornings where we both try and race each other to make breakfast in bed for the other. I’m going to have those days where I wake up and look at you, and I’m gonna realize just how damn lucky I am that I have your love. And I’m going to kiss you every time I remember that. You know why?”

The cautious hope on Castiel’s face is absolutely heartbreaking to see. Even worse is when he shakes his head. He should know. He should know.

“Because now I know, Cas. I know what those words should have been when you said goodbye to me. I’m not kissing you because I feel bad for you, Cas. I’m kissing you because I love you. It’s as simple as that.”

Castiel blinks rapidly at him for a few moments, the blank and emotionless look on his face doing nothing to soothe Dean’s nerves.

“As simple as…?” Cas rumbles out, the blankness giving way to disbelief, and… wait, was that anger?

“You stupid son of a-,” Castiel growls out before grabbing Dean by the collar of his shirt – who thought for a split second that Castiel was going to take a swing at him. Instead, he’s met with Cas’s lips on his own; an insisting and demanding pressure that took him by surprise. Cas’s hand shifts from his collar, resting atop the scar on his shoulder, where that spark of electricity has him gasping into Cas’s mouth. Dean’s hands find themselves grasping onto the sleeve of Cas’s trench-coat, the other resting on the side of Cas’s face; the sharp scratchiness of Castiel’s stubble against the palm of his hand being a sensation he isn’t used to - but welcomes.

“There is nothing simple about you Dean Winchester,” Castiel takes a moment to break away from his lips to growl at him. “Only you could make something so damn complicated…”

“…Sorry?” Dean meekly offers, the charming smile he usually puts on for girls coming out a bit more lopsided than he intended.

Castiel can only sigh, dropping his head down to rest against Dean’s. Dean lets his eyes slide closed at the comforting contact, taking in deep breaths of air.

“I really am sorry,” Dean whispers to him, his breath warm against the night air as it fans across Castiel’s face. “I can be a little slow at times… it shouldn’t have taken me this long.”

“I’m still not entirely sure this is real,” Castiel admits. “I never even let myself imagine what it would be like, because… I knew it could never happen.”

“I never knew it was something you wanted,” Dean tells him. “I didn’t know it was something you could want. I thought you always saw me… as a friend. A brother.”

“I did. Because that’s the way you saw me. And that was already more than I ever thought I could have.”

Dean’s face softened at that, closing his eyes again so he wouldn’t have to see the enduring pain on Cas’s face. “You deserved so much more, Cas…”

Castiel timidly reaches his hand out, the pads of his fingers brushing against the top of Dean’s hand where it rested atop the Impala’s hood. Dean twists his hand around, letting Cas’s fingers intertwine between his own, another small smile etched across his face as Cas’s thumb wraps around his.

“If I have this?” Castiel says, squeezing Dean’s hand. “I have you? There’s nothing else I could ask for.”

Dean tilts his head down to place another soft kiss on Cas’s lips, lingering there for a moment as he lets himself take in all that is Cas.

“Home…” Dean whispers against Cas’s lips, getting a confused hum from his angel in response.

“Home?”

“That’s what your grace smells likes,” Dean tells him with a lazy grin, brushing his thumb leisurely across Castiel’s hand. “You smell like home.”

Next Chapter - - ->

#destiel #destiel fanfiction #destiel fanfic #destiel fix it #fix it #fix it fic #castiel/dean winchester #Dean Winchester/Castiel #casdean #cas/dean #dean/cas #supernatural spoilers #season 15 spoilers #fluff #angst

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ar-jae-spn · 4 years

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Okay okay, let's talk Dean and Jack's reLAtIonShIP - season by season.

(I'll take you through four stages! Prevention, elimination, realization, and solution.)

Season 12:

Okay, obviously we don't see a lot in this season, but Dean still has an opinion on Jack, who he is, and what he'll become.

When they first figure it out, there's an immediate action - find Kelly and her "lucifer love child" and figure it out from there. They don't really go into specifics yet, because they have no clue what it is that they're going to do. They're focused on sending Lucifer back to the cage, leaving Kelly in Cas's care. As we know, she quickly gets away, and they go back to trying to find her.

Here - Dean is in the mindset of prevention. Prevent the bad thing from happening, before it happens. He thinks something is coming, something bad, because when has the name "Lucifer" ever been a good thing.

Lucifer dragged his brother to hell. Lucifer drove Sam to the edge of death. Lucifer is bad news, and Dean's been wanting to stab that angelic arse since season 5. (This becomes so much clearer at the end of season 13, when they finally kill Lucifer. The relief is so clear when they beat him.)

So, what does "prevention" mean. Well, to Dean it means stopping the birth of Lucifer Jr. by any means necessary. This is SO IMPORTANT TO NOTE. Sam is the idealist - he believes that they make the world a better place. He believes in them! He believes that there is always, ALWAYS another way, because he has too. This because Dean is the cynic. He believes they're saving people, but making the world a better place? He's not so sure. He relys on anger and trauma in order to keep going, because he believes the only thing waiting for him is death (which actually becomes quite literal in seasons 14 and 15). He doubts whether everything is worthwhile. He doubts his decisions, and it makes him a mess. That's why he's so good at hunting. It's an absolute for him. You see something bad, you kill it. No second-guessing, no doubts.

So, any means necessary. That includes death. He doesn't want to kill Kelly, but if he believes the single touch of this baby corrupts, what's to say she's not brainwashed? What if she's evil too? Are they willing to take that chance? But when Sam finds a way to save them both, Kelly and her child, he gets on board immediately. He's for it, because if there is a way you can save this mother and her child, and the world while you're at it, he'll go for it. He'll go for it because he believes in Sam.

But then this child takes Cas, and Dean is lost in what to believe again. He's scared - for Cas, and even possibly of Cas. The way he burned Dagon to a crisp? That's power we haven't seen from Cas since the fall. That's scary. He's scary. And his best friend just went off the grid. What if he's hurt? What if he's gone?

And then we get that final showdown. Lucifer is coming, and he's pissed, and we don't have time to argue anymore. This baby is coming, and it's coming now. We get the door to another world, the disappearance of Mary, and Cas's and Kelly's death. In return, Dean and Sam get Jack. How can a creature who caused so much death, who has so much power, possibly be good?

Season 13:

Okay, this is the beginning of the end.

Obviously, Dean's pretty angry at, well, everything. This child is alive, has been born, and the prevention stage has gone out the window.

It's elimination time.

Dean's immediate reaction? Climb the stairs and put a bullet in Lucifer Jr. Sam tries to stop him, but the bullet goes off and Jack's powers are activated. Pure PURE instinct. He hasn't learned enough yet. He doesn't KNOW enough yet. He's just been born for Chuck's sake. And why did Dean act so recklessly? Because he's pissed. He immediately blames the death of Cas, Kelly, and Mary on Jack, because who the hell else is there left to blame? (Also, that moment where Dean calls upon God with no reply, will also start the lead in to "the end".)

Now they're on a chase, a chase for the son of Lucifer. They find him, Sam gets that little moment with Jack saying "will you tell them I'm sorry", and now it's about convincing Dean that Jack is good. But yeah, that doesn't go over well because Dean lost Cas and he blames Jack and Sam blames Lucifer, because Lucifer stabbed Cas. (These boys I swear.)

And then what happens? Cas comes back, and it's because of Jack. This is so so SO important, because this is the moment that Dean starts to ease up on Jack. He respects Cas, he loves him, and Cas's return also proves that Cas and Sam were right. This kid CAN do good.

So then he goes off to save Mary. Dean is surprised, but pleasantly, and they let him do what he has to do. We get that any means necessary vibe from him again, except now it's about saving Mary and protecting Sam. (Threatening Kaia/keeping Sam at the bunker.) Jack goes to Apocalypse World and Sam and Dean go to the bad place. They get back (via the amazing team of wayward women) and get they're spell on.

And, you know, Sam dies...

And then Lucifer is back - again - and Dean gets defensive, because that's his kid and his kid's mentally abusive father just came popping back in on them bearing the single gift that Dean can't refuse (Sam's life). Jack immediately connects this with his own experience. (Oh! I brought Cas back and now Dean thinks I'm good! Bringing loved ones back from the dead is good. i.e. Lucifer must be good.) Because he's a kid, barely a year old, and that's what kids do.

And Jack doesn't want to hurt anyone, driving him to join his father "in the stars" to protect Sam and Dean. Again, final showdown, Jack's grace is taken, Lucifer dies, and Dean disappears.

Season 14:

Moving on to the third stage ~ realization.

Okay so, season 14. I want to start off by mentioning that scene where Jack is determined to kill Michael even if it means sacrificing Dean because it's "what he would want". He's okay with sacrificing one life to save a million, even if it is Dean. Cas is obviously taken a back by this - clearly seeing that Apocalypse World shaped Jack in a way that the Winchester's hadn't. (I also want to quickly mention that this is the same mindset that Jack has now in season 15. His singular life over the world? No contest.) Here he still has his soul, yet the audience is meant to be offended by his proclamation. we've been considering Jack to be a kid who looks up to his father's but obviously it's more than that. He's was weapon of mass destruction, and now he's helpless. He's running out of options and his mortality is crashing down on him.

Then Jack takes ill, and Dean is thrown into a position that he's never been in before. He's about to lose a kid, someone he has treated as a monster since birth until he was able to prove his worth, and he's taking it REALLY hard. He feels guilty and he's totally unprepared to lose child. He failed with Jack in the same (but less extreme) way John failed with the brothers. And he's starting to realize that Jack has always just been a kid.

So they bring him back. Jack has soul, but it's limited now, and he has powers, but he can't use them. But that same feeling of helplessness will come into play when Jack ends up using his powers to save Cas and to save Sam and Dean. He burns out his soul, get his(?) grace back, and saves the world from hyped up monsters in exchange for his morality.

And then he kills Mary. (Personally I never liked Mary's character, but that's for a different post.)

It was an accident! He said stop, used his power, and she disintegrated. I mean if the soulless being, who maybe has too much power and just fried another human being tells you to stop, you should probably do it. I found the way Mary died to be very... stupid? I don't know. Personally I think she should've been smarter than that (but again, another post).

And now Dean is pissed. Because of course he's pissed. His mom just died by the hands of a kid that they helped take care of. I mean, the betrayal he must have felt in that moment is just astronomical. Not to mention Jack just saved Sam's life??? And then goes off and kills his mom??? Like how are you supposed to feel about that? He ends up quickly taking a step back into the elimination stage of our story, as "needing revenge" is the Dean Winchester way.

Then, obviously, we get the show down with God, the "equalizer", and Dean's apparent resistance to follow through with Chuck's "story" (probably because of Sam and Cas, thanks boys). But then Jack dies because Chuck kills him, and that would seem to be the end of the story.

Season 15:

Haha you thought-

Anyways, this is when Jack became the solution.

I just quickly want to mention the scene in the car where Balthagor asks Dean "who was he anyway?" and Dean replies "he was our kid, kind of." Clearly Dean still saw Jack as "their kid" even after everything that happened. He even has trouble replying to the question and then quickly changes the subject.

And then Jack comes back.

At first, Dean seems troubled that Jack has returned, but once Jack fills him in about Billie's plan to kill God, he seems on board, because of course he's on board to take down Chuck. Even so, there's still that mild skepticism about Billie, her plan, and Jack's involvement in it. None of them seem to like where this is headed, and Dean even says that they're being kept in the dark on purpose. They're even more concerned because he doesn't have a soul. Yet, he still volunteers to help save Kaia because it was "his fault". He's trying to right his wrongs because he remembers (logically) what she felt, and he wants to help her. He even says "I owe it to her" and "it's the right thing to do" because he's in her debt. They end up saving her, but get a face full of Billie's wrath in the process. They're clearly scared of her, and they should be.

I feel this is substantial, as Billie has taken a special liking to Dean, and Dean obviously respects her (as he did as the og Death as well as Reaper Billie). He's ten steps ahead in this plan, already thinking about killing Amara too. He's down with clearing the board of cosmic entities.

In "Destiny's Child," when Jack goes to the garden, Dean seems genuinely concerned about him, but taken their given situation and this new plan, it could easily have been mistook for distress over loosing they're last hope at victory. (Then again, when Jack comes back from the garden Dean makes extra sure that he's "okay", asking multiple times.) This is then followed up by the realization that Jack has his soul back and his teary plea for the brothers' forgiveness.

When the season ended here back in March, I thought for sure that Dean and Sam would forgive Jack. It seems so obvious to me that he felt guilty about it. I mean, the boy's literally crying!!! Not only that, but Dean and Sam have made plenty of mistakes in the past, some of which include beating or even trying to murder each other. With that in mind, I just thought they would forgive Jack for what happened to Mary considering he was soulless. I didn't expect Dean to forgive Jack right away, but I didn't expect him to be so reluctant about it either. I think he was really caught off guard when Jack asked for his forgiveness and I think he's still has a long way to go considering the betrayal. (I mean, clearly Dean doesn't forgive things easily. Even when it came to Sam, Sam struggled constantly to gain Dean's trust again until "Sacrifice".)

Then we got "Last Holiday" where we can clearly see Dean being conflicted over his relationship with Jack. He's not ready to forgive him but he doesn't inherently want him to die. He still has a protective instinct over Jack, and he doesn't really want anything to happen to him.

But when Cas tells Dean that Jack is going to be a bomb to blow up Chuck and Amara, Dean's first instinct is to protect Sam from this news. He truly believes that this plan, Billie's plan, is the only way that they're going to win. He blatantly says "You don't have a choice. We don't have a choice." This dialogue can easily be taken as aggressive and selfish, but Dean often hides his hurt with anger. He's pissed at Chuck, he's pissed at Amara, and yeah, he's still angry with Jack. But I have a feeling of Cas is able to find a way to save Jack, he'll be on board with it. There's nothing more important to Dean than Sam, and to just think that he's going to forget that Sam cares deeply about Jack is out of the question. Obviously, Sam has a strong connection with Jack (a profound bond you might say) and Dean didn't want to tell him because, once again, Sam is the only person in the world who could possibly talk Dean out of Billie's plan.

I think Dean is trying to take his anger and hurt from when Mary died and that sense of betrayal and turn it into a defense to cope with the loss of Jack. Jack is going to die, and Dean is certain of this, but he still doesn't like it. Even while he's talking to Billie at the diner, he mentions Jack's inevitable death disdainfully to her. She even has to ask if he's still on board, if they have a problem. He says no, but it's because he doesn't feel like they have another option. Chuck is coming and this is the only play they have right now.

Final comments on 15x16:

Dean doesn't believe they have a choice anymore, which is strange because the whole reason they're fighting in the first place is so that they can have a choice. The poetic irony of this is really in your face and kind of annoying. I think the writers could have done a better job with "Drag me away", especially with dialogue between Sam and Dean. The ending in the car was gold, and they definitely should have built up more dialogue and tension between them before that final scene. A lot of this episode was also emphasizing the fact that Dean would do anything for Sam (as if we already didn't know). But besides that, I thought it was a decent episode. I think it's weird that this episode came this late in the season, but I'm hoping it will tie in nicely in the end. Anyways, this was my analysis of Dean and Jack's relationship and I hope you enjoyed! Feel free to leave comments or things I might have missed. Stay safe out there!

#spn spoilers #supernatural #dean and sam #dean winchester #sam winchester #sam and dean #spn famdom #supernatural 15x16 spoilers #supernatural 15x16 #spn 15x16 #jack kline #cas and jack #jack supernatural #dean and jack

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drkfought · 4 years

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─ the mirrors surrounding you did as they were meant to , reflecting back a spitting image of jensen ackles - but it’s clear something is wrong from the moment that a vision of 𝘫𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘰𝘥 strikes you . perhaps it was a passing daydream in the frenzy of the funhouse . you reassure yourself - you’re 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑 , a 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘺 𝘰𝘯𝘦 year old 𝗙𝗜𝗥𝗘 𝗖𝗛𝗜𝗘𝗙 whose virtue lies in your + loyalty & + selflessness , although you’ve been told that you tend to be quite - short tempered & - self loathing , and you’re associated with 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒌𝒍𝒆𝒔 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚 𝒔𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒔 𝒂𝒄𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒔 𝒔𝒌𝒊𝒏, 𝒄𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒈𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅𝒚 𝒌𝒏𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒍𝒆𝒔, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒐𝒂𝒓 𝒕𝒐 𝒓𝒖𝒎𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒑𝒖𝒓𝒓 𝒐𝒇 𝒂𝒏 𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒆, 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒆 𝒋𝒆𝒂𝒏𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒇𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒍 𝒕𝒐𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒄𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒔 𝒂 𝒃𝒆𝒅 , by those around you . suddenly, however, you’ve found 𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐍'𝐒 𝐉𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐋 on your person - was that always there ? from the moment you leave the funhouse , memories from your life in 𝙨𝙪𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙣𝙖𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙖𝙡 have begun to return - leaving whoever you had been before in the mirror’s reflection behind you . you can almost hear 𝚁𝙰𝙼𝙱𝙻𝙴 𝙾𝙽 by 𝙻𝙴𝙳 𝚉𝙴𝙿𝙿𝙻𝙴𝙸𝙽 following in your wake .

hi i love dean winchester so stinkin’ much ... i am .... so excited . he deserves a life where he wasn’t hunting monsters all the time ! one where he got a job & had kids & is just living life ! let dean have a life !

full name : dean henry winchester . alises : the righteous man . the sword of michael . squirrel . age : forty one . gender & pronouns : cis male , he / him . sexual & romantic orientation : bisexual / biromantic . species : human . identifying marks : multiple scars across his body . some looking like they came from knives , others from guns . his memory on how he got most of them is fuzzy

─ 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 .

i will try to make this short . dean was born to mary & john winchester & for four years he had the most simple apple pie life a four year old could ask for . in 1983 , a demon went into the winchester house to visit their newborn son : dean’s younger brother sam . when mary interrupted the demon’s visitation , he killed her . slashed open her stomach & burned her on the ceiling . dean’s father , john , witnessed the terrible end of his wife’s life & though he made it out alive with both sam & dean , the event would irreversibly change him .

john became obsessed with discovering what it was that killed mary . he learned to hunt the supernatural & ruthlessly trained his sons to do the same . dean’s toddler life of toys turned into tinkering with guns , his warm bed into dirty motels , & his carefree existence into only worrying over his younger brother . he became the perfect killer but it took a toll on him . his father , far from perfect even before this , became harsh on dean . molding him until he was more dutiful soldier than he was boy . dean did everything his father asked & followed his every order with blind faith & even then he would never be the perfect son to john . sam , on the other hand , rebelled against the life john gave them . though dean tried constantly to settle their explosive arguments as best he could no matter his thoughts on the matter at hand , desperate for peace between the two , he still couldn’t stop sam from running away in the end . he wanted to hate sam for it at first , but he never could .

years later when john went missing on a hunt , dean reached out to his estranged brother for help . the job was supposed to be a simple one but after coming back unsuccessful to the tragic death of sam’s girlfriend ( same as their mothers , in fact ) sam entered back into his life for good .

though the plots of both heaven & hell , sam & dean became pawns in the story of the world’s end . the apocalypse slowly set into motion & started with the winchesters at the center of it all . even though they managed stop the world’s end , though , it was hardly the last threat to humanity . as years passed , the brothers found themselves thrust into apocalypse after apocalypse . an endless cycle that they , eventually , discovered was god’s doing all along . they were simply the main characters of a never ending tragic story that god was writing . furious , the two brothers , with help from their rebel angel best friend & the half angel son on lucifer himself , devised a way to defeat god for good . in the end they succeeded . jack , the mentioned son of lucifer , took god’s place after his defeat . the world is their’s in the end . they , for the first time , get to choose their own paths .

─ 𝐀𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 .

there was still a fire at the winchester house when dean was four years old . an accident this time . an electrical fire . a normal tragedy . their mom was still lost but dean , holding onto the bundle that was his little brother , watched as the fire fighters pulled his dad from the flames . sitting with them , brother in his arms , while they consoled him & let him wear their helmets would always be a far more comforting memory to dean than the ones his father gave him in the years to come . john winchester became distant . negligent . borderline abusive . dean did his best to take the bulk of what their grief drowned father put on them , trying to shield sam , & gave a lot of his life to helping raise sam where john fell short . they moved around a lot , finally settling in alucard when dean was around seventeen .

when he was a late teen if he wasn’t at home or sneaking out for a smoke & some girls , dean worked at being a volunteer firefighter . it was something , he thought , slightly productive to do with his life as it was already obvious to him that he wouldn’t be able to go to college with sam still needing him around . at age eighteen , with his high school diploma stating he graduated with average grades , dean officially joined the fire force at an entry level & began saving up money for his own place . a place away from his father but close enough that sam could use it to get away at any time as well . though , as the year went on , he found that john would have been unlikely to allow dean to live under his roof anyway .

dean was notorious with women & thought himself as careful but clearly not as careful as he thought . when he found out he was going to be a dad at eighteen he initially rejected the idea , wanting nothing to do with the child out of fear of turning into his father . sam was the one who talked him down from the anxiety . with his encouragement , dean slowly worked to learn how to be a parent . preparing a room . reading parenting books . anything . it came as a shock a month before the due date to when he found out the mother was backing out of keeping the child . she had been the one initially for raising it at first but suddenly felt she couldn’t do it . though he’d be on his own , dean had steeled himself to becoming a father too much to let the girl to go up for adoption . beverly winchester was born feburary 13th & dean took full custody as her sole guardian . he kept in touch with bevery’s mother still , who went on to study psychology outside alucard .

being a single father was far from easy but dean managed , always taking help where he could from his brother or from friends . one friend even got closer than others . when beverly was nearing three years old , dean started seeing a foreign exchange student from england who was taking classes at the local university & the casual feeling of the affair wasn’t there for long . things blossomed into something serious & when it was discovered she was pregnant , this time dean was far more sure about things than when he was twenty . the wedding was small & around nine months later dean became a father of two as simon joined the winchester family .

for a few years this seemed the perfect arrangement . dean worked up through the ranks at the station , setting himself up to be the new fire chief one day , & raised his kids happily with his wife . but perfect sometimes doesn’t last long . their relationship , after all , had been a rushed one . after around six years , things simply didn’t have the same spark as they used to . the divorce wasn’t nasty , they knew it was a mutual thing , but it still stung . he left the court as a single father again , now with joint custody of his son . he didn’t seen simon much after the divorce . shortly after , he & his mother moved back to england which dean was always bitter about . though simon came to visit sometimes & dean called whenever he could , he always felt like he was far from the boy .

at fourty one , years later , he’s gotten well back on his feet . no serious relationships seem to stick but at work he’s finally gotten fire chief . he misses being in the middle of the action sometimes , but he loves his job nonetheless . if not at work he’s visiting his brother , the bar , fixing his car , or dedicating time to beverly & simon who has recently moved to alucard to be around dean , much to his delight . as his life is coming back to him , though , it is stressing him out . the world was already dangerous without remembering monsters . he feels as though this is just another story he’s now lived out & isn’t even sure whats real .

─ 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 .

father to BEVERLY MARSH & SIMON SNOW in alucard . he will absolutely go off on you if you are mean to his kids . yes , this includes other kids who bully his kids . he doesn’t care he’ll yell at you for being an asshole no matter your age . absolutely no one messes with his kids .

has had beverly around since she was born but has seen simon infrequently since he was about six since simon’s mother took him back to england with her . he doesn’t love simon any less , but he ‘s struggling with fact they don’t know each other as well as dean would like . he hates that his son grew up so far away from him with visits & phone calls too few & far in between .

is also now having to cope with the fact that , in this new life he remembers , he doesn’t even HAVE his kids . closest thing he has to a child there is jack & he doesn’t even know if jack is okay .

still has the impala here . can’t have dean without his car .

while he is the fire chief , fixing cars is a huge hobby of his . if he didn’t love his job , he would absolutely leave it to work as a mechanic at the local garage .

while he mostly works on his car himself , he still brings his car to the garage a few times a year for things that his own garage doesn’t have the tools for . they know him there from his recognizable car .

his father has been alive for sometime but he’s recently found out he died from a stroke in his sleep . dean is stuck between the duty of giving his father a proper funeral & his own bitterness at the man for how he treated him & sam . this is only worsened by the memories of john that will come back .

he is bisexual ! because i’ve watched this show & have eyes ! i know ! is he repressed a lot & hasn’t exactly had an offical coming out ? also yes ! doesn’t mean he HASN’T made out & gotten with a guy or two in the past . just means he never felt like he could say anything about it all growing up & now just figures it’s too late .

uuuuuuuuuuuuh anyway . i’ll add to this more if i think of more .

#dean: intro #duality.intro #THIS IS LONG im not sorry #neglect tw #abuse tw

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snarkymonkeyprime · 4 years

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I apparently started a destiel!labyrinth!au a million years ago? And it’s not terrible?

Also, I don’t know what a Bowman Tree is but I’m intrigued by my thought process regarding it.

Also, I made a note of who’s who:

Sarah – Dean Winchester

Toby – Sam Winchester

Goblin King – Lucifer

Hoggle – Castiel

Inch-Worm – Balthazar

Ludo – Benny Lafitte

The Dueling Guards – Bobby Singer and Crowley

Sir Didimus – Gabriel

Everyone’s so horrendously in character that I can’t stop snickering.

The creature stared at Dean, blue eyes wide. “I understand now, why the Bowman took hold of you. You’re the human,” he stated, voice deeper than Dean had expected.

Still holding his plank, Dean nodded sharply. “Yeah? So?” He inched forward, muscles tight with strain. The thing might have pulled him out of that bloodthirsty tree but even in the short time he’d been in Lucifer’s playland, he knew he couldn’t trust it. If he could get close enough, he could stab it and run. Probably. God, he hoped its skin wasn’t made from iron or something equally annoying.

“You one of Lucifer’s dicks?”

The winged man across from him tilted his head like a bird, narrowing his eyes a bit as he did. “Dicks? Lucifer has only one penis. And it isn’t anthropomorphic.”

Startled by the blunt answer, Dean almost dropped his makeshift weapon. “Uh, no shit Sherlock,” he muttered, frowning.

“My name is Castiel, not Sherlock,” he replied bowing. The black wings at his back flared out gracefully before tucking in once more. “I apologize for the lack of introduction. My brothers and sisters were most curious of news regarding humans.” He smiled, clearly trying to appease Dean. “We don’t often see your kind here.”

Dean glanced around, still not lowering the wood in his hand. “Yeah, I figured that part out when the tree tried to eat me.”

Castiel approached him again but stopped as soon as Dean swung the stick toward him. “Apologies,” he murmured, holding up his hands. “I mean you no harm. You must understand that this world feeds off the energies of its master. Currently, that is Lucifer.” He half turned, pointing in the direction Lucifer himself had indicated after dropping Dean in the middle of this hellhole. “It is a living creature. It forms based on the fears and dreams of the creatures around it.”

Curious despite himself, Dean half-lowered his weapon. That … no way. Christ, no wonder Lucifer had seemed so smug after Dean had agreed to this stupid bullshit. “He controls it? So, he tells it what to do?” Five minutes ago, he’d never have asked such a question but, five minutes ago, he hadn’t almost been eaten by a tree and rescued by a man with wings. So … fuck it.

“Hm, no. Not entirely.” He pointed again toward Lucifer’s home. “In fact, he is as much at its whim as you and I. However, this land feeds on his presence. The presence of an ancient angel. As long as one of that line remains on the throne, it survives.”

“Hold the fuck up,” he snapped, eyes wide. “Did you say angel?”

“Of course.”

Dean waited but when Castiel stayed quiet, he lifted his brows as high as he could. “That’s … what? How the … what?” Seriously, his brain was going to explode. Just … exasperated Dean all over the damn place.

Castiel’s wings lifted, feathers fanning. Sunlight gleamed on the blue-black color. “I am an angel, human. We are a limited race here but this is our home.”

Clenching his jaw, fingers gripping his plank, Dean grunted, “Why isn’t God your leader?”

The angel’s blue eyes were blank. “God? Perhaps you mean the one who created us? Created this place?” His visage soured for a moment as he looked away. “Our Father left us here a long time ago. We have no name for him. Not one that is translatable.”

There was sorrow in Castiel’s voice. And anger. Dean, strangely, understood that all too well. “So he just up and ditched you? Put you in charge and walked?” Yeah, that sounded pretty damn familiar.

Castiel nodded. “In a way. Lucifer has led us since we woke here. He is our brother.” Something in the way he phrased the statement sat wrong with Dean. Brother wasn’t a term he wanted to use. But why he held back now was a story better for another time. The land was important as far as Dean was concerned; not brotherly sniping between giant winged human dicks.

His mind whirled as he rehashed their conversation. “Right. That’s a bunch of shit but … fuck it. Can’t deal with that right now.” He took a deep breath, letting it out in a rush. Jesus, this was tiring. “So, if what you said is true, empty the chair, the place dies?”

And then there was that. Just when he thought this place couldn’t get any weirder. Giant life support system hooked to a massive dickhead? Yeah, that’s a great thing to learn.

Castiel nodded. “To simplify it; yes. It would take ages to die but it would cease to be, eventually. So we keep one of the ancient blood on the throne at all times.”

“But I’m going to kill him. I need to get my brother back.” He sneered. “Isn’t it in your best interests to stop me?”

Again the bird-head tilt. “I suppose, it would be the right thing.” He licked his lips. “But, no? There are others of ancient blood. I, myself, am one. We would find a replacement, if need be.” Castiel was holding something back given the hesitation in his voice but for now, given he had helped Dean, he was willing to overlook it.

Great; history lesson was over. Dean hefted the wood again. “Fine. So … thanks for smiting the tree back there but I’m kind of in a hurry so kindly fuck off.”

Castiel blinked. “I … I could help you?”

“Are you asking or offering?” Dean tossed back. He really didn’t need a tag-a-long in this endeavor. He just had to hike it to that dick’s home and get his little brother back. God only knew what Lucifer was doing to him right now. The very idea made his shoulders tense and splinters dig into his fingers.

Again that broad smile. “Offering, of course.”

Yeah … no. Dean shook his head. “Nope. Fine on my own, feathers. I don’t need one of you bastards spying on me to His Royal Dickness.”

“The title is highness, actually,” Castiel corrected blithely. “Though, we don’t heed such terms here. He’s merely considered our … leader.” He wrinkled his nose. “You seem quite obsessed with male anatomy.”

Dean wanted to be annoyed but it was strangely endearing how literal the birdman was taking him. Despite the situation, he found himself grinning a bit. “Uh, it’s a … nevermind. Cas, I don’t exactly care what you call him. He has my brother and I’m getting him back.”

He hadn’t even seen the guy move. In less than a second, Castiel had gone from being a few feet away to less than a handful of inches. His eyes were narrowed but it didn’t hide the brilliant blue. He didn’t seem particularly angry; just confused.

“Cas? Did you forget the rest of my name? Did the fight with the Bowman Tree make you ill? If you’ve forgotten, it’s Castiel.”

“Uh, nickname, Cas. You know … short.” He glanced at the plank he still held. Given the guy’s insane speed, he was fairly certain it wouldn’t be much in the way of weaponry. With an annoyed sigh, he tossed it, noting that Castiel relaxed when he did. His black wings fluffed once before settling again. “It’s easier to remember.”

“Hm.” Castiel nodded. “Very well. Do you also have a name?”

“Yeah. Dean.” He snorted. “I’d say it’s a pleasure to meet you, but it kind of isn’t. Lucifer stole my brother and then told me I have twenty-four hours to make it to his lair to get him back.” He swallowed, new nightmares of what waited for Sam swarming his head. “I just … this wasn’t what I wanted,” he muttered.

“Dean.” Castiel spoke his name as though cradling a gift. He smiled again. “Would you prefer to go by D? Short, yes?”

He did laugh then. “Uh, no. The short name thing is really only for longer names. So … like Matthew? You’d call him Matt. That kind of thing.”

Castiel, strangely, seemed disappointed. “Oh. I see.”

“You really have never seen a human before? Talked to one?”

“Not myself, no. I believe some of my brothers and sisters have. But not for many, many years.” He stared up into the sky, squinting. “It is … somewhat remote here. You have to intend to arrive.”

Figures. Dean scratched his head. “Yeah, got it.” He looked up to find Castiel watching him intently, the blue eyes tracking slowly along his face and body. Suddenly uncomfortable, he shifted and pointed. “So? Do we go or what?”

“You’ll allow me to aid you?”

“Yeah, sure; first sign of trouble? I take your head off, though.” With what, he hadn’t figured out just yet. He still had his dad’s tactical knife in his boot but that wouldn’t do much more than poke a hole in the guy; if he could even be cut. Shit, this place officially sucked.

Castiel’s eyebrows lifted a moment before settling again. “You don’t trust me. Very well.” He took a few steps away from Dean and gestured toward the dirt road ahead of them. “I assure you, I mean no harm. If, however, you feel my presence is detrimental, you need only tell me and I will leave.”

Dean considered it. But then again, he was alone in this freakhole of a place. Knew nothing about it. Hell, the giant slimy tree had almost eaten him. What else waited? He stared ahead, barely able to make out the shape of Lucifer’s home. Sammy, I’m so sorry. I didn’t … this wasn’t what I meant. Wasn’t what I wanted. He sighed and began walking. “Yeah. Fine. Just … let’s go, all right? I need to get to Sam.”

#destiel!labyrinth!au #angel!castiel #i really like in fic where castiel is truly alien #that was apparently my intention with this given his lack of understanding shortened names #huh #maybe i'll continue #destiel #spn fic

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wicked-cupcake · 5 years

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A Safeguarded Meal

Characters: Lucifer, Beelzebub, Cadence (oc)

Words: 2855

Summary: He’d only asked for her to cook in his stead, had offered a reward in turn. But he isn’t sure what to do with the kindness he gets in return.

Notes: I really like a lot of the text chats in the game and think they’re fun jumping off points for ficlets. And since this is the only one I’ve managed to finish, I figured it was high time to post some writing again.

Could you not be on dinner duty more?

Look at this amazing meal you’re missing because you chose to work!

Too bad you can’t enjoy this hot off the stove~

“Tch,” Lucifer muttered, putting his phone away as he walked toward the front doors of the house. There were more messages from his brothers, that he wasn’t going to bother reading since he had no doubt they all pertained to the dinner he’d missed. He’d had his phone muted, except for emergency contacts, while he worked, wanting to get through as much of it as he could, and he’d only turned them back on while on the way home.

He regretted it now that he’d been flooded with texts and images of the meal Cadence had made in his stead.

Some of them he knew were innocent enough, honest praise that they were glad that he’d picked Cadence to make the meal. But the majority of them he knew it was pokes at him not being able to enjoy it.

Pushing open the front door, he heard the little scurrying of feet as the little D’s scattered from the entrance way before it was nothing but silence. He stood there, one hand on the closed door, and listened. Normally he didn’t like it when the house was this quiet. It generally meant that his brothers weren’t here. Had some of them taken advantage of him coming home late to sneak out? He wouldn’t put it past Mammon and none of the others were going to bother trying to stop him. Cadence could have if she’d ordered him to and actually meant it, but so far as he could tell she was avoiding doing that.

What was the point of making pacts if she wasn’t going to try to command the demons she had at her disposal?

Lucifer shook his head. He’d figured out fast that trying to guess what was going on in Cadence’s head was a waste of his time. There was simply no way he would get it right. It was best if he just continued keeping tabs on her and tried to control the damage as much as he could.

His mouth twisted as his stomach cramped. He hadn’t bothered with food while he was working, using the work as a distraction from the hunger. There was no distracting himself now. Especially not with the reminder of the meal he had missed.

Nothing to do about it but eat. Hopefully Beel had been sated enough that he could find something in the kitchen to throw together for his own dinner. He was sure there would be food but whether or not it was going to be actually decent was still left to be seen.

Lucifer paused as he reached the kitchen. The door was open and he had a clear view in at the table. And the two people seated across from each other at it. Beel wasn’t a surprise. Even with dinner long over, he had come back for more. But what was Cadence doing here?

He watched for a moment, trying to figure it out. The pair of them weren’t talking, his brother eating and her reading a book in front of her. She had her chin propped in her hand as she lazily turned the pages. If all she wanted to do was read, why hadn’t she stayed in her room? The kitchen wasn’t exactly the best place for it.

He frowned as he stepped into the kitchen. “What are you two doing?”

Cadence looked up and Beel tossed him a glance. “Welcome back,” she said quietly.

His brother echoed the greeting, albeit with a little more mumbling as he was still eating.

“That wasn’t an answer,” Lucifer said dryly. “I can see what Beel’s doing but why are you here?”

Cadence hummed softly and he watched as she pushed a covered dish in his direction. “Guarding this.”

Lucifer’s frown deepened. “What is that?”

“Your dinner,” Beel said before she could. “Caden said we had to save you a plate since you weren’t there to have it with us. Mammon thought it was a dumb idea so I came in here to help her keep it safe.”

He blinked slowly, looking at the pair of them. They were guarding his dinner?

“I just figured, if you had to stay to keep working, you wouldn’t take time to eat,” Cadence said, lifting the cover off to reveal a plate of food identical to the one his brothers had sent. “I thought it would be nice for you to come home to a meal that you didn’t have to make.”

He’d only asked her to cover his dinner shift, had promised to make it up to her when she’d agreed so easily, but what was he supposed to do about this? As sharp as she could be, it was easy to forget that she did things simply to ‘be nice’. The concept of someone else doing something for his family without any thought of how they could benefit from it was still foreign enough to catch him off guard. But he’d never forget the puzzled look she’d given him the first time he’d asked what her price was.

“Price for what? Being nice? Lucifer, I know you’re demons but is it really that hard to understand that I don’t want anything back?”

Yes, it is, Cadence, he thought, moving into the room. He chose to ignore the smile that bloomed on her face as he shrugged out of his coat and settled on the stool beside hers. But he still saw it.

“It’s really good, Lucifer. You’re lucky Caden made so much of it because everyone had seconds,” Beel said, pushing off his chair to head toward the fridge. “She even got me to put a spell on the plate to keep it warm for you so it would taste the same as what we had. Do you want something to drink?”

What was the point of going to so much effort if she didn’t want something in return? She’d already made several pacts with his brothers, had gotten a dinner out of him for the abyssal way he’d treated her, and still she did this? He slanted a look at Cadence and saw that she’d returned to her book. “Does the chef have any recommendations?”

“It’s meant to go with a white wine,” she said without looking up.

“Did you serve that to the others as well?”

Cadence snorted. “No. I let them do what they wanted. I know better than to put alcohol on the table with them.”

Most likely because once they had a glass or two, some of them would try to get her to drink as well. Demonic alcohol and humans did not always mix well and he was glad that she was taking his warnings into account. “White wine then.”

She flashed him a faint smile but her focus was clearly on her book.

He didn’t look away from her immediately. He had been tired of looking at names when he’d finally chosen hers to be the second exchange student. With Solomon being the other, he’d figured a nice, normal human would be a good thing to have as a counterpoint. But Cadence had shown him that there was no normal where humans were concerned.

Starting on his meal before it went cold, Lucifer nodded at Beel as he set the wine glass down in front of him and took his seat again. But his gaze was drawn to the book. It only took reading a few lines over her shoulder to realise that it was part of the curriculum. For next month. “Getting a head start?” he asked mildly.

She hummed. “Everything has a bad habit of going sideways in this place. I figured if I had the time to read, I might as well.”

“And this month’s?”

“Already done and synopsis written so I won’t forget.”

He got regular reports from the faculty on how the exchange students were faring with their classes and they’d all said the same thing about her. Cadence took her studies seriously, even if they were completely new to her because they were rooted in the Devildom, and was doing very well in all of her classes. She wasn’t afraid to ask questions no matter how simple they seemed and he’d seen her when she was studying in the music room. She was determined when it came to school and he….

Lucifer paused before the next bite. And he what? Was proud? He had no reason to be proud of her, she wasn’t family. Yes, he’d chosen her to be here but that didn’t mean anything. She was under his care so her successes would reflect well on him. But he knew himself well enough to know it wasn’t that and that he didn’t want to think about what it could be.

The silence in the kitchen wasn’t oppressive as it fell completely over them; in fact it was quite the opposite. Beel was always good company and Cadence’s quiet presence was oddly comforting. Other humans he’d been around had loud and annoying auras, so much poured into it because of how shortly they lived. Yet Cadence was a silent, blank spot beside him. Everyone had noticed it that first time they’d ‘lost’ her. She didn’t give off an aura that was easy to find and it made him wonder all over again just how ‘normal’ she was. Asmo claimed she had deeper magic than Solomon but she hadn’t done anything to give them that impression. There wasn’t anything that should have set her apart from any other human on the street and yet she had snared four of his brothers already.

Sipping at his wine, he looked at her again. She was making notes on a small pad of paper beside her as she read, her handwriting crisp and clean even though he knew she was only going to rewrite them. Who was this little human that could move his brothers the way she had? Who was this little human that fascinated him-

Lucifer slammed that thought down before it fully formed. That was simply asking for trouble he did not want or need. She was only going to be here for a year. He wasn’t so foolish to think that there would be anymore than that and she was….

Cadence sighed suddenly and stretched. “I’m going to finish this in my room,” she said, packing up her things. “I hope you liked the meal, Lucifer.”

“It is well done, Cadence.” It was just as good as every meal she had prepared for them so far. Better somehow. “Give some thought to what I said.”

The corner of her mouth kicked up in her crooked half smile and she looked at Beel. “Thanks for helping me,” she said.

“Do you want to take some custard with you?”

She laughed and shook her head. “I learned my lesson with you and custard but thank you. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

Beel said his goodbyes and Lucifer nodded. But he froze in his seat as her hand slid along his arm as she passed him. One stroke, from shoulder to elbow, with just enough pressure for him to feel it. He barely moved but his gaze shifted, following her out the door. What was that? Why had she done that?

He’d seen her absently touch his brothers, small presses of her hand to them. He’d seen all of them light up every time she’d done it. But she’d never done it to him. He didn’t spend as much time with her and he kept his respectable distance. He didn’t give her much of an opportunity to get close. He hadn’t wanted the same kind of familiar intimacy that touch suggested. All that and more ran through his head when he saw her do it to anyone else but not him.

So why did he suddenly feel like he’d been missing out on something?

“Do you not like it?”

Lucifer looked to see Beel giving him a confused look. “I already said that it was good. I wasn’t lying. Cadence is a good cook.”

Beel shook his head, his mouth pulling down in a puzzled frown. “No not that.”

Lucifer returned his brother’s frown. “Then what?”

“Her touching you. You got this funny look on your face when she did it. Kind of like you ate something that didn’t taste the way you expected?”

Of course Beel would relate it back to food. But he hadn’t realised his brother had been watching or that he had made any type of face in response to her touch. How did he answer that though? He already had enough lies and secrets on his plate where his brothers were concerned; he didn’t want to add to it.

Beel sighed and went back to his meal. “She does it a lot,” he said around a bite. “Have you noticed? I think it’s because she’s warming up to us. Properly. She’s kinda like you.”

Lucifer snorted. “How is Cadence remotely like me?”

“She doesn’t really let people in. Or she does but it’s just on the surface. No one really knows a lot about her, she’s good at deflecting the conversation, and-” Beel paused, dark eyes flicked up to Lucifer before back down.

“And?” he prompted when his brother didn’t continue.

“People are scared of her because they don’t understand her,” he muttered.

“People are scared of me because of who I am, Beel, and they should be.”

“Also because they don’t understand you,” he insisted. “You’re not scary all the time.”

He wanted to ask how Cadence was even remotely scary when she was barely over five feet tall, but he’d heard the story of what had happened with the lack of coffee one morning. She had snapped as hard as Satan and put a certain kind of fear into his brothers that he admired.

“And she’s lonely.”

Lucifer paused in eating to look at his brother. Beel had said it so quietly, as if the words had slipped out unbidden. But was it because it applied to Cadence or that his brother thought it applied to him? “I’m not lonely. I have all of you and Lord Diavolo,” Lucifer assured his brother.

The look Beel gave him cut into him. “You don’t really let us in either, Lucifer. Not anymore.”

There was nothing he could say to that.

Beel gave him a smile and shrugged. “I think you two would get along really well if you spent more time together,” he said, finishing what was on his plate.

“We all live in the same house.”

“Yeah, but you don’t do things with her. You really should. She’s actually fun when she opens up and she’s really good at cooking. She made me these cookies the other day that had this frosting on them that tasted like candy. She won’t tell me how she did it but she promised to make more.”

Lucifer smiled faintly. Of course she was winning Beel over further with her cooking. But listening to Beel talk about her made him realise that he was right. He did barely spend any time with her. What time he had had mostly been spent either apologising or explaining things to her. Or threatening to end her life.

His mouth flattened before he smoothed his expression out. The whole point of this exchange program was to build bridges between the realms. How were they supposed to do that when he wasn’t building anything with the student living under the same roof as him? But what was there to do? The one time he’d taken her shopping he’d seen how much she’d balked at what he’d spent for her. “What is she even interested in?” he mused.

“Lots of things. Satan said he took her to an art showing at the museum and she loved it. She plays games with Levi. Her and Mammon are devouring every series Levi gives them. Asmo takes her shopping and we go looking for new places to eat. She really liked that horror movie night we had too.”

All things very keyed to his brothers or them as a group, but what of his interests would line up with hers? Rolling his wine glass between his hands, he thought about it before smiling. Opening night was coming soon. Perhaps he could interest her in another dinner and a show this time. She was always holed up in the music room to do her homework and had started actually playing music for them to hear so they knew she was in there. Perhaps….

“Are you going to finish your meal?”

Lucifer gave Beel a dry look. “I’m not going to waste the effort that went into keeping it safe.”

“Could always ask her to cook it again for you. Or something else. She said she’d make cheesy omelettes again on her next breakfast shift.”

She’d definitely won Beel over...and he wasn’t opposed to having more of her cooking.

#obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me beelzebub #obey me oc #obey me fanfic #cadence rusu

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