#a Castiel who didn’t save dean from hell

[sky-is-the-limit]

I don’t think people fully understand the sheer gravity of Destiel.

Like, this isn’t just a story about an angel falling in love with a human or another fanon ship that was created just because two dudes were standing too close.

This is an angel, a being forged by God, programmed to follow orders, incapable of free will, the literal embodiment of divine obedience!!! choosing to rebel. For one man. For Dean Winchester.

Think about it. Castiel wasn’t made to feel. He wasn’t made to question. He was made to serve, to follow heaven’s will without hesitation and then he meets Dean. He saves him from hell and in that moment, that exact fucking moment, his entire purpose shifts. Dean didn’t just change his mind cause we are not talking about another mortal being. He changed his entire fucking existence.

And here’s the kicker of it all. God, the all-knowing, all-powerful storyteller, couldn’t stop it. God, who controlled the narrative, who created Castiel and set the rules of the universe, couldn’t stop him from falling. Cas didn’t just disobey orders!!!!!!! He shattered the divine design. He looked at Heaven, at the eternity he was promised and said, "No. I choose him." Insane.

Do you understand how fucking huge that is? This isn’t a simple love story. This is cosmic rebellion and the writers couldn’t even grasp the insanity of what they created for a CW show.

It’s tragic and overwhelming because Cas didn’t fall in love with Dean for any selfish reasons. He didn’t want anything back. He didn’t expect Dean to love him, didn’t need his affection or validation. He never got to touch him or kiss him or get the "I love you too" that all of us wanted to hear. He just wanted to be near him. To help him. To save him, over and over, to make sure that Dean knew that he had someone who was looking after him.

And the cost? It was everything and people just brush over that.

Cas gave up Heaven. He gave up grace. He gave up the safety of eternity and purpose to stay in Dean’s proximity. Not because he was destined to, not because God told him to but because he *chose* to. That’s what makes it so tragic. It wasn’t written. It wasn’t meant to happen. Castiel broke the rules of his existence for someone who didn’t even realise the depth of it until it was too late.

Then THAT moment. When Cas says, "You changed me, Dean." It just hits different, doesn’t it??? Cause it’s not just a love confession. it’s a revelation. He confirms it right there that it was Dean's humanity that did it. Not some grand cosmic force, not some divine intervention. Dean himself, in all his flawed, beautiful, self-sacrificial mess, changed everything.

Dean, who always put others before himself, who had to raise himself, who gave everything to Sam and kept nothing for him. Dean, who was destined to always be second, to always sacrifice his own needs for someone else. Dean, whose car that he loved so much, his only constant, even that belonged to his father. Dean, whose clothes were probably second-hand, whose childhood was spent taking care of his little brother. Dean, whose purpose was always for the world, for the greater good and never for himself.

For the first time, Dean had something that was his. Something that wasn’t meant for anyone but him. Cas was HIS. Not for God, not for his father, not for Sam or the world.

This isn’t just a story about love!!! It’s *the* story about love. It’s messy and painful and romantic in the most devastating way cause Cas didn’t just rebel against heaven, people!!! He rewrote the entire concept of free will, of devotion, of sacrifice!!!!

He loved Dean with everything he was and that love was strong enough to defy God himself.

It’s the greatest, most tragic, most insane fictional story of our lifetime. Nothing will ever come close.

[shanastoryteller]

SHANA HAVE YOU SEEN ARCANE? IF NOT GO DO THAT AND JOIN ME IN MY INSANITY WITH JAYVIK. Otherwise its dealers choice and some happy valentines chocolates for you 💕💋

Castiel has gone rogue, has torn down the wall keeping the cage at bay, and Dean is going to have to face him alone if Sam can’t figure out how to get out of his own head.

Absorbing the memories of what he’d done when he’d been soulless had hurt. To know that any version of him was capable of that kind of callousness, of the kind of ruthless efficiency he’d always turned up his nose at, was a blow.

But absorbing the memories of the cage may very well kill him. Everyone seems to expect it to, if it doesn’t drive him outright insane. It’s likely the most he can hope for is that it leaves him cationic, that he stays in this safe little place in his mind that Lucifer can’t touch and leave the rest of the world to rot. He already destroyed himself to save it once, why should he have to go through that again?

For the same reason he did it the first time.

The world still has Dean in it. He can’t leave his brother to suffer if there’s anything he can do about it.

When he finds across the version of himself that knows the cage, he has to clamp down on the urge to tremble. He’s standing there, half hidden in shadow, leaning against the wall like he can’t hold up his own weight.

He’s covered head to toe in blood.

“Hey,” he says then swallows. Soulless had been aggressive, had been angry, hadn’t hesitated to engage with him. Cage seems like he can barely keep breathing.

It’ll make him easy to kill, easy to reintegrate, but he doesn’t know what that will leave him as when he’s done.

Just killing the guy after everything he’s been though doesn’t seem right. He licks his lips. “Look, I don’t know how aware you are of everything that’s going on, but I – we – I mean.” He swallows. “Dean’s in trouble and I can’t help him without remembering. Everything. And I know I’m not strong enough to deal with everything you’ve delt with-”

“Why do you say that?”

Sam startled. Cage’s voice is raspy, but not weak. There’s no fear, no tears, just simple curiosity. “I – what?”

“Why do you say that?” Cage repeats.

“I,” he thinks back on Soulless’s memories, of how he’d been on board with getting his soul back up until he’d found out what it would do to him, of how they’d described the tattered remains of who he used to be. “They said it would destroy me. You don’t – you don’t look to be in great shape.”

Cage shrugs. “People have always underestimated us, Sam. You know that. They didn’t think we’d be able to take control of Lucifer and we did that.”

“What?” he laughs incredulously. “It was just a hunky dory time in there with Lucifer? You look like shit.”

“And you think Lucifer did this to us?” Cage smiles, Sam can see the white of his teeth against his blood covered face. It should be disturbing, a sign of a cracked mind, a cracked soul, but it just looks like a normal smile. “You know us. You know us better than I do at this point. When have we ever stopped fighting?”

“We fought the devil,” he says flatly. “In the cage.”

“Do you know what powers angel’s grace? Demon’s abilities?” he asks.

Sam shakes his head.

“Human souls,” he says. “It’s the greatest source of power on any of the three planes. And if you know Enochian, you can harness that same power. It took a while, but eventually we learned.” He tilts his head to the side. “I won’t lie, Sam. Lucifer put us through things that no person should experience, a type of hell that broke us more than once. But we were in that cage a long, long time. Souls heal. Grace disconnected from heaven just runs out. I’m thankful to be out, but given a few more centuries, well. Lucifer wouldn’t just be in the cage. He’d be gone.”

Sam doesn’t understand, doesn’t believe it. “So you used your own soul to fight the devil? With the angel’s language? That’s–”

“What did we have to lose?” Cage interrupts. “Michael and Lucifer distracted each other occasionally, and Michael keeps Adam unaware. All we had was fighting and surviving. If we could kill Lucifer for good, what did it matter what state it left our soul in?”

“Then why hide?” he challenges. “Death and Castiel put you away. Why hide even now? If it’s not that bad, why let yourself be walled away?”

“It is that bad,” Cage says softly. “You’re just that strong.”

Sam swallows.

He used to believe that about himself.

“I’ve spent centuries in the cage,” he says. “Some days I barely remember life on Earth. I’ve changed. I had no reason not to.” He looks away for the first time. “I did it for Dean. I never forgot that. And Dean got me out, he saved me, but,” he meets Sam’s eyes. “I remember what it was like to have Dean look at me like he didn’t recognize me. I didn’t want to go through that again. You, he knew. You, he recognized. I thought it was better. You didn’t need the person you became in the cage once we were out of it and I wanted,” he cuts himself off again.

It's okay.

Sam knows.

“You wanted to be someone Dean would be willing to sell his soul for,” Sam says.

He’d never wanted what Dean did, but he’s always felt crushed under the weight of being worthy of it, of the loss and fear when he felt he wasn’t. It’s such a fucked up metric to measure love against, if someone would be willing to go to hell for you, but Dean’s the one who set it. He’s just following suit.

He’d do anything for Dean.

“Dean needs our help,” Sam says. “Castiel-”

“I know,” Cage says. “Even a juiced up Cas isn’t Lucifer. We’ll be able to take care of him. You need to know what I know and there’s no way to teach you Enochian without everything you had to go through to learn it. I’m sorry.”

“We’ve got a year of fresh memories,” he says. “A year of our life on earth front and center. It’ll help. They won’t feel so far away from us after.”

Dean will still love them after.

“You hope,” Cage scoffs.

Sam smiles and lifts a shoulder in a half shrug. “Yeah. It’s all we’ve ever had, right?”

Cage smiles again, pushing off the wall to stumble forward. Sam catches him when his knees buckle, looking into his own face, his own eyes. They are different. But not unfamiliar.

Souls heal. Whatever Lucifer did to him, whatever he did to himself in there, it’s not irreversible. There’s a difference between scarred and bleeding.

“You’re going to be okay,” Cage says, offering him a knife that Sam hadn’t even noticed him carrying. “You can do this.”

Sam swallows, giving a nod before taking the hilt and plunging it into Cage’s chest. He holds him through it, hearing the wet gasp against his hear. “Yes,” he says softly. “We can.”

When he opens his eyes in the panic room, all versions of him settled into one, into just Sam, he doesn’t waste time mourning the people he used to be.

Dean needs him.

[samsno1]

you should write jealous sam!!

Gut Feeling

Sam Winchester x F!Reader

the gif is not exactly accurate since the fic passes after the first lucifer shenenigans but i wanted to use it. also, sorry that it took so long to write this request, ive been struggling for a while with writing but here it is, better late than never i guess

Summary: Falling in love with his brother's best friend is good, Sam could keep it secret and stay close to her at the same time but jealousy eats at him slowly because her and Dean seem way too close for his liking

Warnings: just fluff, kind of hurt/comfort, jealousy (duh), sam wants to kill dean, dean is flirty and reader jokingly flirts back, sam's got it bad, hinted bisexual sam because idc what anyone says this man ain't straight, NOT PROOF READ, english is not my first language

wc: 4.3k

enjoy!

Sam wouldn’t call himself a jealous man, especially of those who weren’t romantically related to him. He had his insecurities but, if any woman or man was willing to be with him, even knowing everything that he did, — and does — he didn’t think they would feel the need to betray him. Besides, Sam wasn’t cocky, but he knew he was above average in the ranking of looks, he had been more than assured of that by both men and women throughout his life. Even so, Sam still was Sam, the one who constantly put himself down, the one who constantly didn’t feel enough and the one that constantly stared at you like a predator eyeing a prey everytime you were too giggly with his brother.

You had come into the Winchester’s lives while Sam was away at college, meeting Dean and his father, John, first. It took a few weeks for you to find out through a fight between Dean and John that Sam existed and that he was Dean’s younger brother. You had questioned Dean at the time while comforting him after the heated argument why he hadn’t told you about Sam and he said it was a sensitive subject. You had assumed Sam died — thank God you were wrong — but he was studying Law at Stanford. You were shocked at that, usually hunters that grew in the life didn’t even care about education, much less were capable of getting into a renewed University such as Stanford. Dean told you about how Sam always hated hunting, complained about constantly moving, had straight A’s in whatever schools he went to and, as soon as he got the invitation letter, he left.

You could see Dean missed his brother, just talking about Sam made him show this nostalgic look, like he was talking about a distant memory. A few months later you finally met Sam while you looked for John — who had disappeared in a hunt. He wasn’t what you expected — usually you picture the younger brother shorter and you didn’t stop making fun of Dean for days after that. Sam was smart with quick thinking and incredible deducing skills, finding out about the Woman in White was easier than you thought it would be.

At the end of the hunt, you said your goodbyes to Sam. You could see the bitterness surrounding Dean when he couldn’t convince Sam to keep hunting with him and your hand rubbed his back discreetly for comfort.

Imagine your surprise when you hear Sam scream in horror as fire spreads through his home. Dean didn’t think twice before going in, soon coming back out with Sam, who was crying his heart out as he put up a battle against his brother while Dean pulled him away from the fire. He screamed a girl’s name — Jess, his girlfriend — and you soon understood what happened.

Ever since then it was you, Sam and Dean against the world, literally. You were there when their father died selling his soul to save Dean, you were there when Sam died and tried to convince Dean not to sell his soul for him and do the same his father did — when you thought you finally persuaded him he sneaked out when you were sleeping and made a deal —, you were there when Dean went to hell and back and met the Angel Castiel, when Sam was addicted to demon blood, when the brothers wouldn’t stop fighting, when Lucifer was freed and everything the boys had gone through up until now.

Throughout these years, Sam grew enchanted by you. At first, he didn’t think much of you, he thought you were dating Dean and when he questioned you about it you made a fake gag sound, dramatizing your motions by putting a hand to your stomach and curving your spine forward. You got a chuckle out of Sam and rolling eyes out of Dean. On a more serious note, you clarified to him that you and Dean were nothing more than close friends and that you had been there for Dean when he needed you, and Dean, for you.

You had developed somewhat of a close relationship with the brothers as the years passed and they were your rock. When your parents died on a hunt of their own you were inconsolable and Sam and Dean were there to help you grieve. When you wouldn’t get out of bed for days it was Sam who brought you breakfast, lunch and dinner. Dean would distract you by telling you stories about 80s drummers and rock bands. They comforted you through the whole thing and you couldn’t be more grateful. When you thanked them they said it was the bare minimum they could’ve done for you since, according to them, you had been there for them through the toughest shit.

Sam never thought he would secretly fall for you, so secretly that not even he noticed. He doesn’t know when it began but he remembers when your smiles got brighter and your eyes shinier as he swam through the color in them. Your laugh got sweeter and your gestures had more meaning — at least in Sam’s eyes they did.

He would catch himself stealing glances from afar, learning the littlest of things about you just so he could impress you, yearning to be closer to you, not just physically but emotionally. He would read your favorite books and watch your favorite movies just to have something to talk to you about and he loved when you shot that confused yet shocked look at him when he mentioned your favorite media. Your eyebrows first furrowed as you looked at him then your eyes widened and a smile opened up in your face — oh, your smile — as you started talking about all the things that you liked in said book or film. It was the most beautiful thing Sam had ever laid his eyes on. 

After Jess, he didn’t think he would feel this way ever again. Of course his deceased girlfriend still crossed his mind until this day, it was hard to forget someone like that, especially with such a horrific death. Especially someone Sam loved. But you were there, in his mind, from when he woke up until he fell asleep, maybe even in his dreams. You were easy to love, your personality was incredible, your looks were capable of taking people’s breath away easily and, being a hunter, your strength was more than impressive, mentally and physically.

But Sam didn’t want to love you, he felt guilty for loving you. He had his fair share of terrible experiences with romantic partners and he would never forgive himself if something ever happened to you — much how he doesn’t forgive himself from what happened to Jess. So he swallowed those feelings down and kept them hidden as well as he could. Even now that you are sitting close to Dean in the booth, his arm over your shoulder as you look through the diner menu. Dean’s thumb caressed your shoulder and Sam felt sick to his stomach.

“I think I’m going to get a chicken burger with fries, it’s cheap and looks good” You said as your finger ran through the page, looking between the prices and the food itself. Being a hunter on the road didn’t allow you to waste much so you always went for the cheapest looking thing on the menu but that still looked decent enough to eat. “Sam”

That brought him back to reality, your gentle voice making him look at you. He hummed as an answer to his name being called.

“There’s some good options of salads here, do you want to take a look?” You said with a small smile, offering him the menu. Dean piped up and brought the menu back to himself.

“Wait, Sweetheart, I didn’t even choose what I want” He complained and you rolled your eyes.

“Don’t pretend you aren’t already sure of what you want. Bacon cheeseburger with fries, extra bacon”

Dean shot you a wide grin. “You know me too well…Okay Sam, dive in” He said to his brother as he closed the menu and handed it to him.

Sam’s blood was boiling. Sweetheart? You know me too well? He was going to kill Dean as soon as he got the chance. He grabbed the menu from him with a fake smile and a weak thanks then looked at you. His face softened. “I’ll look through it, thank you”

“The Cobb Salad seems good, if I was in the mood for salad, I’d go for that one” You said, pointing the dish out on the page. This type of salad had bacon in it. “If you don’t want the bacon, ask them to take it off…or give it to me” You said with a mischievous smile and a playful wink in his direction. Sam chuckled as he gently shook his head.

“I think I’ll try but just because you were convincing” He said. You put a hand to your heart and straightened your spine, filling your lungs with air as would someone who was — sarcastically — proud of themselves.

“I have awesome taste, you won’t regret it Sammy” You teased with the nickname on purpose but Sam didn’t care. It was odd that the only person he somewhat enjoyed calling him that was you. Sam didn’t have many nicknames — Moose didn’t count — so you feeling comfortable enough to call him by any kind of affectionate or teasing name showed him that you were comfortable around him and that felt greater than ever. He knew that if he asked you to seriously stop calling him ‘Sammy’ you would stop, you never made him feel uncomfortable or ignored in any way, you would listen to him.

���

You and Sam were still eating when Dean said he needed to go to the bathroom, after he inhaled his hamburger as if it was nothing. Sam was looking through some stuff on his computer, probably looking for suspicious news that gave away the interference of a supernatural being. You noticed he seemed off, biting the inside of his cheeks constantly, his eyebrows furrowed for minutes on end and you could hear his foot bouncing anxiously under the table. You put your burger down and cleaned your hands and mouth with a paper towel, analyzing Sam’s behavior a little further. Honestly, you were staring. Clearly staring.

“Do I have something in my face?” Sam said without taking his eyes away from the computer screen.

“I don’t know, but you definitely have something up your ass” You replied, raising your eyebrows provocatively. That made Sam look at you with a shocked look and that’s when you noticed he had something on his mind. On a normal day Sam would’ve laughed at you instead of giving you the stink eye. “What’s wrong?”

Sam sighed “Nothing’s wrong”

“Bullshit”

“What do you know?” Sam seemingly snapped and you shut your mouth for a couple seconds.

“You” You said, playing with one of the fries on your plate, not looking at him anymore. You took Sam’s silence as a hint for you to continue “I know you, and I sense that something’s wrong. C’mon Sam we’ve been friends for years, do you really think I don’t see it when you’re not fine? If you don’t want to talk about it that’s fine but don’t belittle me like that” The conversation seemed to end there as you went back to eating your burger. Sam was still looking at you, his finger tapping the table. He let out a long sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. Friends. That was exactly what was wrong.

“Okay, I’m sorry, it’s just– I’ve been stressing over the last case…” (lie) “...And it’s bothering me how long it took us to solve it…” (complete lie, Sam was in love with you and absolutely jealous of his brother) “...But otherwise I’m fine, I didn’t want to snap like that” (well, there’s the first truth of that sentence). Sam was wondering if you would believe him, you could read him well and if you really looked into it you would be able to see he wasn’t being truthful.

You swallowed the single bite you took of the burger and untensed your shoulders, letting down your defensiveness. “Sam…” You gently called, putting down your food. You cleaned your hands and fingers on a paper towel, wiping away the grease off of them and placed one of your hands over Sam’s fidgeting one on the table. Sam froze. “...You’re too hard on yourself. C’mon, we were able to find and burn that ghost with only the death that you saw on the paper that led us to finding the case, nobody else died, we are all okay and that spirit is now free.” You gave his unmoving hand a gentle squeeze then patted it twice, letting it go. “Don’t stress over it”

People tend to say that, for those who are in love, anything that their loved one does makes them feel euphoric, or feel it a hundred times stronger, deeper. Sam’s heart ringing in his ears showed that this was, in fact, very true. It was stupid, love was really a sickness that ate you from the inside out.

He felt bad for lying to you because he knew you’d always try your best to help him through anything, he could count on you with his life but there was no way he was admitting to you that he was upset because you decided to sit beside Dean at the diner table instead of him. Or because you directed more of your smiles to his brother, that you brushed your hand against his shoulder while you laughed at his jokes, or maybe because Dean always spoke to you in a flirty manner — like he would to a bartender or waitress he wanted to take back to his motel room — and you egged him on, flirting back. Sam would always ignore it because one, you weren’t even his, two, you knew Dean for longer and three, neither you nor his brother knew about his crush on you. To sum it up, if Dean really wanted to try anything with you, Sam had no right to stop him — but he could still be silently angry about it.

And that’s what he was doing. Dean was back from the bathroom and sat beside you again, reaching his hand to steal one of your fries from your plate. Much like Dean, you were overprotective of your food so you almost instantly dragged your plate away from him and pushed him through his chest to stay far from you.

“Hey! You already ate a whole entire burger and fries!” You argued.

“Oh c’mon Sweetheart-” Stop calling her that “-just one fry, please” Dean begged like a child and you shook your head.

“No, stop that, I’m hungry” You firmly replied and, even though he had a frown on his face, Dean backed off with a laugh.

“Alright but I’ll make you pay for this later” He said wiggling his eyebrows, a mischievous smirk on his lips, his words dripping innuendo. You looked at him, already used to his constant dirtiness.

“Mhm, come right on sweetie” You replied, the double meaning in your words as clear as day. Sam could puke. Actually, he would if he stayed there for another minute.

“You guys are disgusting, I’m going to the car” Sam said, closing his laptop and getting up from the booth as quickly as he could, not even looking back as he pushed the glass door of the diner to get out, the bells above it ringing loudly.

You looked at him through the window as he walked to the Impala in long, angry strides. You turned to face Dean with furrowed eyebrows and clear confusion on your face as you could faintly hear the passenger door of Baby being aggressively slammed. Dean looked just as confused and slightly bitter since he saw the way his car shook with the strength his brother just applied on the old door.

“Was it something I said?” You asked Dean, your eyes still looking in the overall direction of where the Impala was parked. You went through your past conversation, it was nothing out of the ordinary, this was usually the setting of when you three were together, Sam focused on something else while you and Dean talked or joked with each other, it was never an issue and, if it was, it was never voiced as one before.

Dean sighed “He’s probably just having one of his temper tantrums, he’ll be back to normal in a few hours”

You hummed unconvinced but didn’t press the issue further. After you finished eating and paid the bill, you left the diner with Dean by your side and Sam was staring out the passenger window at the both of you with that sinking feeling in his gut again. He was biting his nails — a habit he tried for years to overcome but never succeeded — and his knee bounced up and down as if he was trying to drain all his anger through the bottom of his feet (it wasn’t working).

Though muffled through the closed window of the Impala, he could hear your sweet laugh as you approached the backdoor, probably directed at a stupid commentary or joke his brother made. He sighed just as you opened the door and sat down right behind him.

“Okay, I surrender, Ramble On is definitely much superior to The Rain Song, happy now Winchester?”

“Not when you don’t sound sincere about it! It is much better” Dean replied and Sam’s eyes accompanied his movements as he sat on the driver’s seat and started the car.

This is what Sam disliked the most, you had so much in common with Dean it made him sick. From music taste to food you were almost the same and he hated it. Of course that compared to his brother you had your particularities, and it’s not like you hadn’t gotten some mannerisms from Sam himself but when you put them on a scale of comparison, guess who won.

“Yeah, yeah, I agree” You sarcastically said but a smile was on your face, one that Sam saw shining through the rearview mirror. The same way he saw your eyes darting to his through said reflection.

You placed a hand over the one from which he was biting his nails to make him stop. Sam turned to you — a weird sideways position that kind of hurt his back — and you leaned towards the front seat, closer to him.

“Stop” You demanded, looking straight into his eyes. Sam had this expression of a kid that got caught doing something wrong and you saw his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. You nodded at him, as if to ask if he understood and Sam nodded back, making you smile sweetly at him, retreating back to your seat.

–

Okay, what the fuck.

Right now, you were back at the bunker and Dean had gone to isolate himself in his cave since you guys didn’t have anything to do, nothing to hunt, nothing to kill, not even chores to do because you ate out, so no dishes were dirty — a rare occurrence — and you were sitting across from Sam, staring at him, trying to read his mind about what was going on.

He told you he was fine but the way he was treating you told you otherwise. Ever since he stormed off from the diner he was short and dry with you, something that never happened, not even when you did something stupid during a hunt and he got mad at you for it. Usually in those times he scolded you, yelled at you and spoke his mind.

Of course Sam shutting out wasn’t something you were foreign to, he did it quite often and it was one of his behaviors you always tried to work your way around because you knew how hard it could be to talk about your own problems without feeling extremely vulnerable. And Sam Winchester hated being vulnerable. He hated having to rely on others or speaking up about how he was feeling and you understood that, he had to be strong and independent or whatever his sick father put in his mind that he had to be. But, even though you understood, you wouldn’t take shit from Sam Winchester.

You looked at him one more time, he was biting his nails again. You sighed and got up from your chair, circling around the table until you stood right beside him, who still didn’t look at you, so you decided to take drastic measures. You grabbed his cheeks, turned his face to you and pretended to analyse the patient, putting the back of your hand on his forehead, looking into his eyes to see if the pupils were blown out or not…Sam was in shock, his eyes were wide and he was paralysed. When you started to try and pry open his mouth he gripped both your wrists to make you stop.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“Trying to figure out what’s wrong with you” You replied and Sam closed his eyes, sighing.

“I already told you that–”

“And I don’t believe you, Sam” You interrupted, a scowl on your face “What is it, huh? Are you under some spell? Did you eat something that made your stomach upset? Did you get cockblocked last–”

“No, no! Stop it! It’s nothing like that–  God why are you like this?” Sam said, looking down slightly, his hair partially covering his face. Your wrists were still grasped in his hands, his rough hands contrasting with the gentleness in which he held them. His thumb caressed your skin unconsciously.

“Oh so I am the problem? What did I do Sam?” You rose your defenses, his words making you feel partially upset, partially angry. You hated making Sam sad or mad and you especially hated when he didn’t say anything about it to you.

“Why do you keep flirting with Dean like that, huh? Why do you laugh so much at his jokes?” He asks, getting up from his chair and staring down at you. “And in front of me too? Don’t you know how that makes me feel? Seeing you all over Dean and him all over you while I just stare from the sidelines?!” He snaps, letting go of your wrists, yet, you’re too stunned to even move. His breathing is quicker after his rant and yours just stopped in pure shock, was Sam–

“Jealous? You’re…jealous?” You asked, almost whispering. Sam opened his mouth as if to say something but nothing came out besides a sigh. He pinched the bridge of his nose, realizing just how stupid this sounded when he said it out loud and he wanted to dig a hole on the ground — his grave.

“I’m not– I mean– I just–” He tried to make something up when he heard a low giggle, his eyes closing in on your hand over your mouth as you stifled a laugh behind it. Sam’s face felt warm suddenly and he avoided booking at you entirely for a moment.

“Oh, Sam…” You said, residue of laughter still on your words as you shook your head.

“Look, I’m sorry, I know this is weird and we are just friends so let’s just forget about it and–”

“Hey, hey, slow down pretty boy, who said I wanted to forget it?” You stopped him, one of your eyebrows raising as he turned to look at you, a confused expression adorning his features.

“What?”

You reached your arms to wrap around his neck, pulling him down slightly, his back curving. Your faces were inches from each other, which made him hold his breath. 

“Who says I don’t like you either Sammy?” You whisper, your minty breath invading his lungs, intoxicating his whole being with the smell of you, so close, so kissable, so beautiful. He didn’t know what to do besides hesitantly put his hands over your waist and squeeze lightly, to make sure you’re there, to make sure he’s not dreaming…he doesn’t know but he wanted to make sure of something.

“Do you?” He whispers back, his eyes looking down at your lips then at your eyes again. You smiled and kissed the corner of his mouth, just a tiny peck, and pulled back again.

“Do I?” You asked, faking confusion and Sam mumbled something intelligible as he pulled you in again for a proper kiss, one of his hands crawling up your back and holding the back of your neck gently. He pulls back for a second and looks at you to guarantee you’re fine with this but you pull him back to your mouth again before he can ask anything.

His tongue teases your bottom lip and you happily let him in, a groan escaping his throat. He tastes the hint of toothpaste in your mouth and he feels in heaven — when he dies, he wants this exact moment to be his heaven, he'll make Castiel convince someone of this. All the worries, all the anxiety, all the jealousy went away because you were his. The thought made goosebumps spread over his skin.

Sam put his hands behind your thighs and propped you up on the table.

“You don’t know how long…” He breathed out, his hands roaming over your body like you were some fragile sculpture. “How much…I dreamed of this, of you.”

You gave him a peck. “Make your dreams come true Sam, I’m right here, I’m yours”

[swtsupernatural]

S.W || ANGEL BY MY SIDE

Sam Winchester x Fem!Angel!Reader

Content Warning blood, mentions of death, sam fighting for bodily autonomy, religious themes & talk of heaven, reader being shorter than Sam

Summary Angst, hurt-/comfort for Sam, slow burn i think - Sam was supposed to die tonight. At least, that's what his guardian angel told him after she saved him from death.

W.C. 2.4k words

Playlist: ♫ Kiss of Life - Sade, Telephone - daste., Salvatore - Lana Del Rey

A.N. first sam fic ! this came to me sunday night, been thinking alot about spn angels lately. enjoy! - claire

It had been a long fucking day for Sam Winchester. Not only was the demon he found in Manhattan trying to summon more, but they were working with a large pack of them and an even larger pack of vampires that lurked in Vermont’s lush forests. The two creatures had teamed up, and as a result Sam was surrounded in a poorly lit dirt road in the forest, moonlight shining on his knife. He couldn’t see or hear Dean, and he knew Castiel was busy with extremely pressing ‘angel matters’ as he put it. He had vamps and demons circling him, and Dean had the stupid demon knife. Or, he did when Sam had seen him a few minutes ago. Now, he had no clue who had their hands on it. His brain was twisting as he desperately tried to wring out ideas of escape from his head like a sponge. He was trapped. Fuck. A demon sprung, holding a large, saw-edged knife slicing his forearm making him tense. A measly cut never stopped him, and he twisted the demon’s neck, shoving the body to the side as another few came behind him. Twisting and trying desperately to gank two at once, Sam missed the others on his right, one stabbing Sam deep in his lower abdomen.

Significantly outnumbered, Sam tried to keep his thoughts collected. But it was difficult with five vamps and six demons on his ass, and the blood slowly staining his shirt, the agonizing pain making him want to double over. The demons suddenly pounced on him simultaneously. He managed to injure one of them, but the rest kept their grip on his arms, legs, neck, and torso tight. One of the taller vamps sauntered over to him, her lips curling into a smile. 

“You’re gonna taste so sweet, boy. I can already tell…” She pulled his hair back roughly, her painted fingers tight on his long hair. She exposed his neck, and Sam had never thrashed more than he had in that moment. It seemed like all he had done in his adult life was fight for his bodily autonomy. He felt numb — of course this would be how he died. The second he felt her lips on his skin, he felt and heard something he never had.

A loud whoosh, the hands and arms restricting him gone, and a swift change in the chipping air all in less than a second. He was in the motel. His motel he and Dean were staying at in some small town in Vermont.

But…there was still a single hand on his shoulder. However, it was gentle. Too gentle. He turned his head, his eyes meeting yours; a woman. You couldn’t have been much older than him. But you weren't really a woman. He drew his gun from his belt, effectively pushing from you, making space between you two. 

“Who the hell are you?” He was assuming you were an angel. He didn’t know of many other creatures or beings that could move him so effectively and so fast. He was also thinking how everything in this world came with a price. You weren't saving his life to do him a favor or to be nice. That wasn’t how this ever worked. Except; there you stood, your hands tentatively coming up in a gesture of surrender. 

“Sam. I’m very glad you are okay.” You stated your name, a small smile on your lips. Still, he held his gun up directly at your face.

“So much for a thanks, I guess. I’m your guardian angel, Sam. There’s no need for hostility.” Sam faulted, just a bit, but you took a single step towards him and he was back in his rock-solid stance.

“I’m sure. What do you want?” 

“Well, I’d like to heal that cut in your stomach. It’s quite deep.”

He scoffed, “Why? So I can owe you? So I can be in your debt?”

You were silent for a moment, your eyes widening a bit. “Castiel never told you? Sam, certain angels…we are assigned to humans to watch over them. We are permitted to help you, prevent you from death if it is not your time, and only if we are not spotted. We cannot be seen, or…well, in simple terms, we’ll be kicked out of Heaven.” 

“You…you’re my guardian angel? Seriously?” He mulled over you, his eyes squinting in suspicion. “How come we’re talking, then, if I’m never supposed to see you?”

Rolling your eyes suddenly that same whoosh came, only a lot quieter. You had his gun in your hand, pulling the mag out, throwing the piece in one direction and the gun elsewhere in the motel where neither of you could reach it.

“You were going to die. You were supposed to die. That was your time, Sam. I defected to save you. I’d like a ‘thank you’ at the very least.”

Sam breathed quickly through his nose deciding what to do. Your eyes were so genuine. He’d only ever seen that look from one other angel, Cas.

“I…thank you.” You nodded, and he saw realization in your eyes. It was raw and undoubtedly heavy on your being. You nodded. 

“I’m going to put my fingers on your temple and you will feel much better, understand?” You looked at him; from his shaggy hair to his dirty boots, and back up again. “It will be easier if you sit down. You’re much taller than I thought.”

Sam let out a small huff of laughter, sitting on the bed.

“Well, you don’t seem very tall for a guardian angel.” You squint your eyes at him, a look of unshaken power in them that startled Sam to his core. He knew what angels were capable of. You could have killed him and everyone in the motel in seconds. Yet, from someone else’s perspective, you were a hell of a lot shorter than him, and just looked like a regular young woman. 

“My true form is larger than the size of this building, Sam. I know that you know what I am capable of. Even if I may not look like it.”

Sam nodded in an apologetic way, your cold fingers on his temple immediately putting him at ease. Cas had healed him a couple times before but it had felt nowhere as heavily as this. He could feel his wounds closing before he could register what was happening — even the widespread blood stain on his shirt dissipating. He let out a long sigh he didn’t know he was holding, his shoulder slumping forward. He truly felt better than he had in years.

“Thank you. And I’m very aware of what angels can do…though I’ve never met a guardian one.”

You nodded, your face quite close to his. He smiled gently. Cas was never great with personal space either. Yet, Sam always found it funny when the angel would appear a mere foot from his older brother. Now, the last thing on his mind was humor. He would never admit that your presence was intoxicatingly calming. 

“We possess stronger healing powers and sturdier wings than typical angels. Not that it matters much now.” The sorrow in your eyes made guilt settle uncomfortably in Sam’s stomach.

“Why did you save me? I’m not exactly the poster boy for virtue or dignity.”

“I’m aware. But you must understand I’ve been watching you your whole life, Sam. I perfectly believe you deserve another chance on Earth.” Sam gazed into your eyes, trying to find what he could not understand. His father, Dean, Bobby…they had all known and loved him for so long. But they’d never expressed it like you were right now — and he'd never even met you. He had met defected angels before, fallen ones too. They would lose their wings. They would lose their grace. They were as old as the beginning of time, and would sacrifice it all for a single human. 

“But why? You flew me here, but I’m guessing your wings aren't doing too good right now, Angel.”

You stared deeply at his features. You’d seen Sam, watch him grow up before your eyes from the day he was born. But your visions of him were never as clear as they were now. His eyes were a solemn swirl of blues and greens, the inner ring a twirling hazel. The lines on his face told you of his laughter, his light forehead lines telling you of his worries, the short hairs littering his jaw telling you he’d been up for nights focusing on the hunt that was supposed to have ended his life.

“Because I thought…” you looked at a stained part of the unappealing carpet on the floor, your eyes glazing over a bit, “I thought that some of the angels were abusing their power over humans, over hunters. I had been on earth a few times and stupidly got your disease of emotions.” Sam chuckled softly despite the situation, hoping you would feel a tad better. But he knew you didn’t. How could you?

“I felt sympathy for humans. There were unjust things happening everyday, people's lives ending at their wrong time. I thought you were worth saving because–well, maybe it's time angel’s be kind instead of unforgiving.” Sam listened to every word spilling from your lips. You had been very short and to the point with him earlier. You really had begun feeling human emotion, if even a little. 

“And I thought that maybe you’d help me. Help me adjust, at least. I have seen the ways you and your brother act. I know it is selfish of me, but you are close with my closest friend and brother, Castiel.” You took a pause, eyes averting from Sam’s sincere face.

“I have seen you do it for humans and creatures and being alike, Sam. I thought maybe if I was kind to you, you could be kind to me, too.”

Sam stared at you in awe, his jaw slightly open. He honestly wasn’t sure what to say. Of course he would like to help you, but how? You were an angel for God’s sake. Maybe Cas was capable of giving you what you really needed to adjust, to be an angel without your wings, but he’d try. He’d fight like hell to try for you. You saved his life. It dawned on him that he was meant to be dead. He’d likely be in hell at this very moment if you hadn’t intervened. You truly were an angel sent from Heaven for him. 

“Of course I’ll help you, Y/N. You saved my life. I’m not done fighting yet and I’ll try everything I can, as a human at least, to support you.” You smiled. Your eyes were watering and you confusingly blinked at a wet drop falling from your right eye. “What is…” Sam reached a large hand to your cheek, rubbing the tear away. 

“Tears. You’re tearing up. Nearly crying, it happens when you…experience intense emotions, sometimes. Usually they are sad ones, but I’m guessing yours aren't.”

“No. I think I am happy. Maybe…anticipatory?” Your stomach was in knots, but you didn’t think you were sick. Castiel had explained it as…excitement. Sam smiled at your words. 

“Why is everything I say to you funny, Sam?”

Sam shook his head, still smiling as he brought a hand to your shoulder, “Not everything, you’re just…amusing.” You nodded after a moment as if agreeing with him. You knew you weren't accustomed to human culture or customs, you felt out of place every time you were on Earth. Nevertheless; now it was your home. 

“I find you very amusing. And you can be funny, but only when you are not being stubborn.”

“You really have seen me my whole life.”

“But I like that about you. You have such complex emotions.”

“Yea, I do…” Sam trailed off, the twisting in his stomach intensifying as he looked at your lips briefly. “Can I…” he leaned in closer, but not too close. He didn’t want to crowd your space, but you just looked so heavenly sitting next to him on his bed, your lovely hair framing your soft, glowing face. You tilted your head the way Cas did when he was confused about something human-like.

“Can you what, Sam?”

Fuck, your voice was so pretty. “Nevermind,” he leaned back slightly, getting up to call Dean to find out what happened to him before you grabbed his arm pulling him into a tight hug. 

“Thank you, Sam.”

“You realize you shouldn't be thanking me, right?”

“I know. But I also know humans can be very cruel and you’ve shown me a lot of kindness. I wasn't sure it was still possible in your world. Oh, and Dean is alright. I asked Castiel to help him as I did you.” Sam kissed your forehead, and it felt like it lit on fire. Your cheeks were warm, and you weren't sure if you were ill, or what was happening to your very human vessel.

“Sam, are you sick?”

“Not that I’m aware of. Why d’you ask?”

“You just made my skin hot, and my stomach feels weird.” Sam froze, his lips coming into a smirk, “Did I?” He tested the waters, lacing his fingers over your arm, and you stared up at him, your cheeks pink and your mouth slightly open. 

You pulled him down on the bed, holding his face with your hands. “Yes.” You stated matter-of-factly.

He smiled, sliding his hands over your cheek. “You gonna do anything about that?” Sam spoke in your ear lowly and you turned your head, his hair tickling your face and leaving goosebumps on your arms.

“I don’t know what to do.” He curled further into your face, leaning closer to your ear, his mouth on the edge.

“It’s okay, we don’t have to do anything, Angel.” 

You nodded, but opted for leaning up and placing a kiss on his forehead too.

“I think I need to teach you about other human stuff before we uh…do that.” You nodded, still leaning on Sam, when a thought came to your head. 

“Hey, Sam?” He gazed over your face, listening attentively to your sweet voice.

“I still have my grace and powers. But, since I’m not a real angel anymore…do you think I can try things like ice cream and taste the real flavor?” He threw his head back, laughing boyishly. 

“Yea, yea, I can buy you ice cream, Angel.”

[impala-dreamer]

When The Rivers Rise

A Supernatural Story 

~Alone and unprepared, Y/N goes to collect Dean from the bar and convince him to come home. Sam says he has a cure, and she'll be damned if she doesn't at least try to get Dean on board...~

Demon!Dean x Reader, Sam, Castiel

6,331 Words

Warnings: NSFW, Angst, Smut, Demonic Charm, Fingering and Fucking, Mild Violence, Canon Everything, Choking During Sex, Choking not during sex, Lose of consciousness, Yada Yada

A/N: So basically, I took S10 E2 & 3 and smushed this in there. Please enjoy. I did. Published to Patron June 5, 2023

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

The Flamingo Lounge was filthy. The parking lot was fenced in, littered with trash; its brick walls covered in graffiti as if the city’s youth used it as a canvas. Luckily, though, it seemed empty.

Y/N parked her car in the lot, not caring to lock the doors behind her. She double checked the syringes stashed in her jacket, made sure her gun clip was full. Really, there was no way to know what she was walking into, but she had to try, had to do something.

And she had to do it quick. If she knew where he was, so did Sam, and God only knew what Sam would be planning.

She walked in through the side door, letting her heavy boots thud and announce her presence. There was no reason to hide, anyway. Sneak attacks were never her speciality.

Soft piano notes filled the air, a half plucked melody that never quite turned into a song.

The room smelled of lingering cigarette smoke and stale beer, whiskey and maraschino cherries. The bar stools were vacant, the room empty save for the bartender and her target. She stopped by the counter; blue neon light shining down on her face. She grit her teeth and cleared her throat.

The music stopped and he looked up with a smile.

“Hey, Y/N.”

Dean. Her pulse quickened.

“Didn’t expect to see you.” His jaw twitched as he looked her over. “Thought it’d be Sammy who came callin’.” He cocked his head to the side, cracking his neck unnaturally.

Not Dean.

“Yeah, well, I thought I’d come see you first. Save him a trip.” Her voice felt so small. It crackled in her ears as fear welled up inside. She’d been tracking Dean for months and now, standing half a room away, she felt unprepared and severely out matched.

Dean chuckled under his breath and spun on the piano bench. His legs spread as he straddled the cushioned wood and he rubbed a hand down his thigh. Green eyes were piercing through her and Y/N shivered. She hadn’t felt his stare in forever, hadn’t known she’d feel it ever again.

He stood and she instinctively reached for her pistol.

“You know you can’t just shoot me, Y/N.”

He blinked. Blackness overtook the green and her heart sank. He could see it in her face, smell it pulsing off of her like thick perfume. She was terrified, disappointed, intrigued.

He laughed and made his way to the bar. “Oh. You weren’t sure, were you?”

She swallowed hard. “Sure about what?”

“About me.” He nodded at the bartender and Harv took a walk, dropping his drying rag on the bartop. “You knew what happened, that I’m… different now. Better. But you didn’t really believe it, did you?”

Shit.

Y/N dropped her hand to her side, dug her nails into her palm to steady herself. “Not really, no.”

Another little laugh left his lips as he leaned over the bar and grabbed a bottle of whiskey. He cast a glance back at her, his eyes green again, his gaze hungry.

“Well, believe it. I’m new and improved, babydoll.”

His tone washed over her. There was a new grit in his voice, a different confidence that was so unlike him but so very much Dean that it made her head hurt.

“You’re a demon.”

He shrugged and plucked two glasses from the drying rack, turning them over. “Yeah. Cool, ain’t it?”

Y/N bit her tongue hard, hoping the quick flash of pain would clear her head a bit. “Not cool, Dean,” she spat. “Evil.”

One elbow on the bar, he turned to face her and grinned. “Sweetheart, you wouldn’t know evil if you were stuck in Hell with it. Which…” He looked around at the empty room and laughed. “I guess you kinda are.”

The emptiness of the room suddenly weighed down on her and Y/N took in a deep breath to steady her shaking hands.

Dean filled both glasses and then slid one across the bar for her. “Drink up. You’ll need it.”

Nervously, she stepped up to the bar and took the glass between her fingers. “Why? You gonna kill me?”

He sucked his teeth and let his gaze fall down her body, remembering, enjoying. “Maybe.”

Her heart thudded in her ears. “You haven’t decided yet?”

Dean knocked back his drink. “Nope.”

“That’s bullshit.” She took a sip and it burned down her throat.

“What?”

“You decided the second I walked in here.”

Dean refilled his glass while keeping one eye on her. “Actually, I didn’t. I was too curious to worry about what I’m gonna do to you.”

Y/N held the tumbler to her lips, breathed in the oaky fumes. “Curious?”

“Well, you walked in here, alone…” He licked his lips. “Lookin’- mighty tasty if you don’t mind me sayin���.”

Fuck.

Her blood sizzled. “I do mind. Asshole.”

Dean smirked and took a long drink. “And I thought to myself, Y/N’s a smart girl. She’s gotta have some kinda plan. Wouldn’t just walk in here by herself with no backup, no weapons, no nothing. She’s not an idiot.”

He paused to watch her reaction and found her stronger than he thought. She held his gaze without faltering and he moved closer.

“So, tell me, Y/N, was I right? Are you smarter than you look?” He licked a drop of whiskey from the corner of his mouth. “What’s the big plan?”

She refused to look at him lest she lose her nerve. She finished the last sip of whiskey and then pulled her weapons from her jacket. On the bar, she laid down her gun and three syringes filled with a harsh sedative. The smooth, eternally cool handle of the angel blade pressed into her side, but she kept it hidden beneath her shirt.

“There. There’s my plan.” She turned to face him and swept her hand over the weapons.

“You were gonna- what? Force me to OD?” He grinned, flashing perfectly white teeth and the pink tip of his tongue.

Y/N shook her head. “It wouldn’t kill you. Just knock you out.”

“And then?”

Her shoulders rose and fell in a confessional shrug. “Honestly, Dean, I didn’t think I’d even get this far, so… there’s no and then. Bring you home, I guess.”

“What if I don’t wanna go home?” he asked, taking a step closer. “What if I don’t have a home anymore?”

She held her breath. “You do. You’ll always have a home, Dean. Whether you want it or not.”

He laughed. “Lemme guess. Home is wherever you and Sam are. Where we chose to hang our hats.” He shook his head and sighed. “Home is dead, Y/N.”

Her heart ached. “It doesn’t have to be. If you come back with me, maybe we can-”

“What?” He cut her off. “Maybe we can pretend everything’s good? Play house? Oh, you wanna try being boyfriend and girlfriend again, act like we have a future?”

His words were a knife, but she bit her tongue again, refusing to give him a reaction. “Don’t be cruel, Dean. I’m trying to help you.”

He sucked in a breath and turned away. “See, I don’t really care about being helped. I’m fine. You’re the one who’s gonna need help in a minute.”

She pressed her arm down against the blade, reassuring herself that it was there and ready.

“You’re not gonna kill me, Dean.”

He looked back over his shoulder. “We’ll see.”

“Whatever happened to you,” she said, hope burning on her lips. “Whatever this is… It can be undone. You’re still you. You’re still Dean Winchester. You’re still-”

“Still what?” He spun on his heel and towered over her. “The man you love?”

Pain twitched around her eyes. “Yes.”

“You know what you are? You’re a sad little girl playing with shit she don’t understand.”

She stood up tall, finding strength in the marrow of her bones. “Sam has the cure. He can-”

Dean laughed and backed up, cocky and amused. “Sam’s probably dead right about now. I don’t know how much good his cure will do.”

Y/N froze. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, you don’t know?” Dean clicked his tongue and smiled. “Some assclown called me from his phone. Got baby Sammy all tied up in a shed somewhere doing… something. I don’t know, I wasn’t really listening. But, that was a while ago. I assume he’s…” He slit his throat with a single finger and stuck his tongue out, mocking Sam’s apparent death.

Y/N shuddered, unable to hide the truth from him.

“So you didn’t know.” He spun back to the bad. “Sorry. Don’t shoot the messenger.”

She cleared her throat, pushed the worry aside. “That’s exactly what I came to do.”

She took a chance, lunging for the gun on the bar, but Dean got to it first, expertly disarming it and tossing it aside.

“You’re too slow, Y/N. Always have been.”

He poured them another drink while she regrouped.

“Tell me, how is it you don’t know where Sam is? You two’ve been attached at the hip forever.”

A bit of whiskey sloshed out of her glass and flooded the bar. She went to it, lifting her cup from the mess. “Yeah, not so much anymore.”

Dean leaned in, condescendingly. “Wanna talk about it?”

Y/N took a drink. “No.”

A month ago, Sam was losing his mind to grief and obsession, pushing Y/N aside at every turn as he tried to find his brother. The last straw was a torture session in a barn in Kentucky. Sam was slicing up a demon, carving into its stolen flesh, and when Y/N protested, he hit her, knocking her back against the rotting walls. They tumbled, fighting, screaming at each other while the demon watched, cackling from the center of the Devil’s Trap. When the dust cleared and Y/N came up bloody and bruised, she spat in Sam’s direction and told him to go to Hell. That was the last she’d seen or heard from him. He was on the same mission, but going about it in all the wrong ways.

She stared at the neon sign behind the bar. “We’re not exactly speaking anymore.”

Dean hummed and refilled his glass. “Funny. You and me in the same boat.”

Y/N huffed. “I chose this boat, Dean. You didn’t.”

He grinned. “You don’t think so? You don’t know all the fun I’ve had this summer, all the trouble I’ve gotten into. All the tail I’ve chased… and gotten.” She flinched, but he kept going. “All the drugs, the fights, the booze. It’s been a great time. You should join me.”

She laughed bitterly and downed her drink. “Pass.”

He frowned, mockingly. “I’m sorry. Does hearing all that hurt your feelings? All those chicks I’ve banged, dudes I’ve nailed… makes ya jealous don’t it?”

Y/N sighed and turned to look at him. “No. Just sad for you. And them.”

He took a step and she balked, moving away from the bar, her defenses on edge.

“Come on, now. I’m the best you’ve ever had. And I’ve only gotten better.”

“You’re an asshole.”

Dean grinned. “Baby, you have no idea.”

He moved closer, stalking towards her, forcing her to back up. His eyes were fixed on her face, intent obvious. His mouth parted gently as his tongue came forth to tease her, wet his plump lips. A strange mix of panic and arousal swelled in her gut and she reached into her jacket, pulling the angel blade free.

“Stop!” She twirled the blade in her hand and held it out in warning.

Dean laughed. “Really?”

“This kills anything, right? Human, angel… demon. If you’re two outta three, I got a fighting chance.”

Her voice was shaking as hard as her hand and Dean kept coming, boots thumping the stained carpet.

“Stay back!” she yelled, spreading her feet and bending her knees, taking a fighting stance.

Dean swept forward in a flash and grabbed her wrist. He twisted hard and she held back a scream as the bones threatened to snap.

The blade fell to the floor.

“Get off me,” she snarled.

Dean’s right hand curled against her lower back and he leaned in close, breathing in her scent. “You don’t mean that.”

Frozen, caught and confused, she gasped as he bent to kiss her. Squirmed as his tongue poked between her lips, thrashed as his fingers tensed on her ass. Swooned as the kiss lingered.

Fuck.

It was warm and wet and so Dean. She hummed despite herself and freaked out when he pulled away. She slapped his chest, shoved him hard.

Again, he pulled her close and his lips found hers. He licked at her mouth and exhaled into her, flooding her brain with desire, washing her body in lust filled memory.

“Stop it!”

Once more, she shoved him back with all her might, but it only made him angry. He stumbled back a pace and dipped his chin, daring her, enticing her, tugging on every string.

Oh god…

“Just- stay back!”

Dean’s upper lip twitched and he bared his teeth, advancing on her like a wolf in the wilderness. He wrapped himself around her, pushing her back until she hit the piano. Nowhere to go, she melted in his arms, let him probe her hot mouth, let him slip his knee hard between her thighs.

She gasped, hating herself for loving him. Hating her love for getting in the way.

“Stop.”

He pulled back an inch, burning into her with familiar green eyes. “If you really want me to stop, I will. Just say it.”

His breath struck her face, that dreamlike mix of whiskey and smoke and long faded mint. Her eyes fluttered and her pussy clenched. “No.”

He grinned, let his fingers trail down her cheek to wrap loosely around her throat. “No you want me to stop or no, you don’t won’t say it?”

Unable to think, to speak, to reason herself out of the moment, Y/N grabbed at his flannel with both hands and tugged him down. She licked at his lips, sucked on his tongue until he growled against her, thrust his hips into her.

“Knew you were good to go,” he moaned, fumbling with the zipper of her jeans.

Y/N clawed a hand through his hair and tugged, yanking his head to the side and licking at the sacred vein. She pressed her lips there and felt his heart beating steady. He still had a heart.

“Miss you so much,” she whispered, half gasping as he tore at her bottoms, tearing the denim from her hips.

“Oh, I know you did.”

He grabbed at her sides, slid his hands up beneath her arms and lifted. Her bare ass squeaked on the piano lid and Dean closed in on her, pushing her onto her back with a heavy kiss. She spread her knees around him, tugged him closed with her heels on his ass. He snuck a hand between them and grinned against her lips.

“You did miss me, huh?”

She nodded, breathless as he shoved a finger into her.

“So tight.” He added another and she gasped. “Thought you’d be runnin’ around like a cat in heat without me, but looks like you’ve been a good girl. Kept yourself all tight and virginal for me.”

Her nails scraped at his scalp. “I don’t know about virginal…”

A third finger jammed into her and Y/N bit her lip as the stretch burned.

“You been fucking other guys behind my back?”

His ring finger barely made it inside and her pussy clenched down hard on him.

“Nah.” He grinned and nipped at her lips. “You ain’t been doing nothing but dreaming about me, have you?”

She wanted to scream, to push him off, to run, but there was no escape. Not when he had his lips on her throat and his body pressed so hard against her.

“Yes…”

He pulled his hand away and pressed two fingers to her clit, watching in delight as he eyes lit up and a silent scream filled her mouth.

“You could come with me, you know.”

She snapped her jaw shut tight. “No.”

Drawing his left hand firmly down her body, he stopped at her hip and tugged her shirt up, exposing the blank protective ink over the bone. His thumb ran over the tattoo. “Sure you could,” he explained. “I’ll just cut this off… drag some bitch outta Hell… stuff her into you.”

Her body jerked as he forced his hand back into her cunt and Y/N grit her teeth. “Wouldn’t be me then, would it?”

He paused and shrugged. “Yeah, I guess not.” He tugged the shirt up higher and smiled as the thin cotton of her bra did little to hide her pert nipple. “I like you like this anyway. All scared and confused.” He dropped down and sealed his lips around the bud, tugging hard.

Y/N squirmed and let out a cry that rang like music in his ears.

“Fuck, I missed that sound.” He sucked again and bit down. “The whores I’ve been picking up lately, they just- it ain’t the same.” He straightened up and looked down at her. “Sex is just sex until you learn someone’s body. You can’t really fuck someone the right way until you learn how. You gotta pay attention… learn what makes them… squirm. What makes them scream...” He crooked his fingers and Y/N squealed, her thighs slamming shut around his arm. “See? Just like that.”

“Fuck, please!”

Her lips were burning from his kisses, stubbled lips leaving the ghost of his touch behind. Her body was aching, throbbing from his fingers, dripping down onto the piano.

“Dean-”

He bit his bottom lip and let it fall slowly away. “Love hearing my name like that. Never gets old.”

He pulled away before she could cum, leaving her struggling and needy. She reached for him, but he slapped her hands away and unbuckled his jeans.

“Lay still,” he grit.

Y/N sealed her lips shut and clutched the hem of her shirt. She eyed the exit, thought about jumping down and taking her chances outrunning him, but before she could take a deep enough breath, Dean jutted his hips against her and his cock slipped between her swollen lips.

Her shoulders jolted upright and Dean grabbed the back of her neck, tugging her down toward the edge of the piano. Her ass was hanging, teetering off the side, and she grabbed at his shirt, holding on as he fucked deep into her.

“That’s it,” he grunted, one hand on her hip, the other on her throat. “Fuck, I remember this cunt. So fucking wet for me. So tight.”

She gasped, eyes wide, heart racing. His thumb covered her pulse and he pushed down just enough to blur the edges of her vision.

“D-Dean!”

His hips snapped upwards, his breath quickened. He squeezed her throat tighter and watched as the color drained from her lips.

“That’s it, babydoll,” he urged. “Gonna get you nice and dizzy so you cum hard. I know you like that…”

She could feel it building, that tightness inside as he hit every spot she’d been unable to reach herself.

Green eyes blurred in her vision and then with a grin, he snapped them to black.

Y/N came instantly, her cunt pushing and pulling on his thick cock; a flood of warmth slicking down his thighs.

“Yes…” He thrust harder. “Yes… Just like that!” His roar was intense and Y/N’s eyes began to roll, her heart struggling to beat. “Yes!”

The room was fading to white; her head was spinning. Still throbbing, her cunt was the only thing responding as Dean finished with a grunting cry. Just before her eyes rolled back, he released his grip and oxygen flooded her brain.

Y/N gasped and caught herself, falling back onto her elbows on the polished wood. “Fuck!”

Dean flashed a cocky grin and tucked himself away, uncaring of the mess. “You still got it, Y/N/N.”

His wink was uncalled for and aggravating, but Y/N had no energy to clap back at him. Carefully, she rolled onto her belly and slid off the piano. Her muscles were aching, her flesh on fire.

Dean headed back to the bar and poured another round. He walked a little slower, his voice rolled a little smoother off his devilish tongue.

“Can’t say I’m mad you stopped by,” he joked, swirling the whiskey in his glass. “Turned out pretty good after all.”

Y/N yanked her jeans up and grimaced as the seam scraped at her raw pussy. “Just think how much better it would be at home, in the Bunker, where you belong.”

He laughed. “Really? After all that, you’re gonna try again?”

She stumbled forward, grabbing the bar for support. “I gotta keep trying, Dean. You need help.”

Sighing, he knocked back his glass. “See, that’s where you’re still wrong.”

Behind him, the door creaked open and Y/N’s eyes went towards the light.

Dean didn’t have to turn around, he knew.

“Hiya, Sam.”

Shit.

Sam let the door shut behind him and he walked in, arm held in a sling, face cut up and bruised.

He locked eyes with Y/N and her stomach tensed. They hadn’t spoken in weeks, and seeing him now, it all rushed back to her.

“Sam.”

He nodded at her and moved to stand equidistant from her and Dean. The triangle was a familiar one, but strange altogether.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, eyes flickering between them.

Y/N swallowed down her anger and swept the sweaty hair from her eyes. “Same as you, I guess.”

Dean laughed. “I highly doubt he’s here for that, Sweetheart.” He brought his right hand to his lips and licked her taste from his fingers. “Unless…”

She shuddered and Sam’s brow creased.

“We’re gonna take you home, Dean,” Sam said, ignoring the obvious sexual confession. He turned his back on Y/N and focused on his brother.

Dean rolled his eyes. ”Yeah, I don’t think so. I told you to let me go.”

Sam’s shoulders tensed. “You know I can’t do that.”

Dean pursed his lips and nodded. “Yeah. Well…” Reaching behind him, he pulled the First Blade from his belt and showed it to them both. “Sucks to be you, don’t it?”

For a moment, Y/N felt calm. Almost as if her soul had decided to give up all hope and accept the fact that Death was on His way. She exhaled slowly and imagined what it would feel like, that sharp jaw bone splitting her in half, gouging through her chest with one quick sweep of Dean’s hand. Would he be quick or let her linger? Would he weep for her in the end? Would he care?

Sam held up a hand, begging for patience. “Dean, you don’t have to do this. We can cure demons-”

Glass shattered behind Y/N and she turned to see the window break. A smoking canister landed by her feet and she looked at Dean, confused and flooded with panic. As her brain and feet got themselves together, the smoke rose around her and she covered her mouth and nose, too late. She started to choke her and beside her, Sam coughed loudly, waving at the smoke to push it away. He inhaled too deeply and stumbled forward, grabbing her shoulder for support. She buckled under his weight and fell to her knees in the cloud. It strangled her from every side, burning her lungs, stinging her eyes. She crawled towards the door and felt Sam’s big hand on her back, pulling her to her feet.

“Come on!”

He hit the door, pushing it open and knocking fresh air into the room, but it was already inside of  them.

Y/N staggered out behind him, barely able to stay on her feet.

Confused and bleary-eyed she saw Sam fall, knocked out by a stranger’s fist.

She rushed out of the bar, leaving the smoke behind and slamming into the arms of Sam’s kidnapper.

“Who the hell are you?”

Blue eyes and a crew cut stared back at her and Y/N coughed, expelling poison from her lungs.

“Me?” she swayed on her feet and swatted at him. “Who the fuck are you!”

Cole grit his teeth and pulled a gun from his thigh holster, easily spinning to take Y/N in his arms and aim the muzzle at her temple.

From the back of the parking lot, Dean appeared, cool and seemingly unaffected by the attack. He held out his arms, cocked a brow as he looked at Cole, wondering who the fuck was bothering him now.

Y/N held still but seethed, nostrils flaring, anger sloshing about in her dizzy head.

Cole’s forearm pressed hard against her throat and he pointed the gun at Dean.

“Wow. It’s really you.”

Dean clicked his tongue. “We met?”

“Talked on the phone.”

“Right.” Dean laughed under his breath. “You’re the guy who’s supposed to put a bullet in Sammy’s brain.” He dipped his chin and smirked, cocky and unimpressed. “Did you miss?”

Dean took a step and Cole tightened up. Y/N clawed at his arm but didn’t have the strength to fight him off.

“Dean-” Her voice was shattered and weak.

Cole pressed the gun against her head again. “You stay there or I’ll-”

“What?” Dean leaned in casually. “You’ll put a bullet in her too? You don’t exactly have a great track record for that.”

Cole growled. She could feel it rumble through his chest and into her. “I’ll do it.”

Y/N blinked up at Dean, begging, but for what, she wasn’t sure. The calm of Death approaching had settled over her once more.

Dean shrugged, his eyes locked on Y/N’s. “Do it,” he said. “I don’t care.”

She drew in a breath and everything changed. Cole’s grip on her loosened and she ducked from his arm, ready to rush forward and out of the line of fire. He grabbed her arm and brought the butt of the gun down hard on the back of her head. She saw sparks, heard a yell, felt the rough gravel of pavement scrape her face.

When she woke, she was back in her bed in the Bunker, blanket smooth beneath her, boots still on. She’d been carried inside but not tucked in.

Sam.

Her head was pounding, mouth somehow dry and wet at the same time. She swallowed down the guck and rubbed her eyes as she climbed out of bed.

The halls were quiet, the lights bright as always. She peeked into Sam’s room, but it was empty, dared a chance at Dean’s, but he was nowhere to be found either.

What the hell?

A pained, demonic roar echoed down the hallway and Y/N pushed off of her backfoot, breaking into a run.

The dungeon door was open, the decoy shelving pushed aside.

She looked in to see Dean tied to a chair, his face covered in thick sweat, right arm bloody from needle punctures. Sam stood to the side, watching his brother writhe in pain.

“Sam?”

She stepped into the room and both men looked up.

Dean grinned through his strangled panting. “Heya, Sweetheart.”

She rushed forward and Sam stopped her, stepping in her way. He towered over her and looked down, hazel eyes filled with hurt and purpose. “Don’t.”

Dean sucked in a hard breath, lungs burning, blood boiling.

Y/N tried to circle Sam, but he barred her with his good arm.

“What are you doing to him? You’re killing him- look!”

Sam shook his head and gave her shoulder a shove. “Out. Now.” He grabbed her arm and dragged her to the door.

Dean watched her leave, struggling with consciousness. “Good to see ya, Y/N/N!”

Outside, she ripped her arm from Sam’s giant paw and growled up at him. “What are you doing in there?”

He sucked a breath through his teeth. “Curing my brother.”

“Looks more like you’re killing him! Can’t you hear him screaming? That can’t be good.” She turned to the door and again, Sam blocked her.

He softened, lowering his voice and easing his stance. “Look, I know you’re worried but-”

“But what? You’ve got it all under control as usual?”

He dropped his head. “He has to go through this. He’ll survive.”

She looked up, tears wetting the corners of her eyes. “How do you know? How do you know this won’t actually rip his soul apart and kill him?”

He let his head fall back against the door, resting for a split second. “I don’t.”

Hours ticked by with Y/N pacing the halls, listening as Dean’s wretched voice echoed through her, tearing at her heart.

Sam wouldn’t let her inside, but she caught glimpses of Dean when Sam came out for air. He was dripping in sweat, slumped down in the chair.

“Are you sure about this?”

He brushed past, barely holding on himself. “Honestly, Y/N… I don’t know anymore. But we’re almost done. He’ll either come out of this cured or-”

She held her tongue. “Yeah.”

Sam turned left and headed towards his room.

“Sam?”

He paused before rounding the corner.

“Should you and I- I mean, we should probably-”

He held up his hand, but was kind when he turned. “I know. We need to talk. I need to apologize. I just need- I gotta finish this first. I need to save him.”

Y/N nodded. “I know, Sam. I know.”

Sam had been gone for a while, so she took a chance.

Y/N slipped into the dungeon with a bottle of water and a damp cloth, her heart in her throat, her head in a vice.

Dean was limp in the chair, his chin tucked to his chest, eyes gently closed. She toed the Devil’s Trap, watching, praying to see a breath.

“Dean?”

He stirred and she sighed. “Thank God.”

A chuckle lifted his face to hers. “God ain’t got shit to do with this, babydoll.” He smiled and then coughed, heavy, painfully. His chest heaved, his mouth fell open as he strained for air.

“Dean… fuck.”

Before she knew it, she was inside the sigil and kneeling at his feet. She pressed the cool washcloth to his forehead and he sighed gratefully as she wiped the sweat from his brow.

“That’s… that’s nice.” His voice was cracked, throat raw from screaming.

She patted his cheeks, his throat, lay the cloth across the back of his neck.

“Are you OK?”

She looked him over, certain he was near to fading. His arm was torn from the needles and she could swear The Mark looked paler, as if Sam’s cure was pulling the evil from it. Maybe it was working…

Dean smiled. “Oh, sure. I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” A cough shook him badly and Y/N held his cheek, unable to help.

“I’m so sorry, Dean. It’ll be over soon. I promise.”

She cracked open the bottle of water and held it to his lips, urging him to drink.

He managed a tiny sip and then pulled back.

“I’m dying, Y/N/N.” His head lolled to the side and her heart ached.

“No.” She grabbed at his flannel and shook him gently. “You’re gonna be fine. You’re Dean Fucking Winchester. You are going to be fine. You hear me?”

Green eyes rolled back to white and Y/N set her hand on his chest, rubbing hard.

“Hey! Hey! Dean! No. Wake up!”

She slapped his cheek and he sucked in a heavy breath, gasping loudly as his eyes snapped open.

“Oh, Jesus, Dean!”

Before relief could set in, Dean’s fingers wrapped tightly around her wrist and his pained smile turned into a devilish grin. He squeezed and her pulse quickened.

“What’re you doing? How?”

She looked down to see the ropes that had held his arms frayed and broken. “Dean?”

A blink shattered his beautiful green eyes and only black remained. He laughed. “You showed up just in time…”

It was like a rush of wind inside her head and all around.

In a flash, Dean had her up off the floor, her feet dangling, throat clutched in his big hand. He slammed her against the wall and held her there, lungs screaming, eyes bulging. He traced a hand down her body and tilted his head to the side, watching the blood rise to the surface of her skin. Aroused even as her breath died away.

“See, I don’t get you.” He let her slide down the wall until her toes scraped the floor. “Sammy warns you not to come looking for me by yourself and you do. He tells you not to come in here, and not only do you ignore him again, but you bring me a bottle of water. You came in here to take care of me. And for what?” His fingers squeezed and she felt her heart strain to pump. “You think you can ease my pain? Make it all better?” He brushed a hand over her breast and grinned. “Or maybe you think I’ll fuck you again.”

He tossed his head back and laughed.

“You’re a stupid little girl.” He blinked away the black and dipped his lips to hers, kissing her sweetly. “But I do enjoy watching you suffocate… I never told you that before, but it’s beautiful. Your eyes get real wide and the color starts to drain from your mouth. This sweet, delicious mouth.”

He forced his tongue inside and Y/N’s eyes rolled back. She clawed at his arm, but the strength was gone, the will fading close behind. Her vision ebbed and her fingers slid from his arm, falling limp at her sides.

“Do me a favor, babydoll,” he whispered, licking at her lips one final time. “Wait for me right here.”

With a flick of his wrist, she was on the floor, falling like a ragdoll at his feet. Air filled her lungs but she was already too far gone to wake fully. She tried to move, but everything was a struggle, everything ached.

“I’ve gotta go take care of my baby brother.” He ran a hand through his hair and she watched in horror as he stepped out of the Devil’s Trap. “Then I’ll be back for you."

Kind blue eyes were there when she woke and soft hands were helping her to sit up.

Castiel smiled sadly and lay his palm across her forehead like a mother would.

“How are you feeling?”

Y/N blinked rapidly, clearing the haze from her eyes. She squinted up at the angel and then panicked.

“Dean!” She scrambled to her feet, leaping from her bed and grabbing his arm for balance. “Where’s Dean!”

Castiel took both of her hands in his and forced her to calm down. “He’s fine. He’s…” A smile turned his pink lips. “It worked, Y/N. Dean’s back with us.”

It felt like the walls were crumbling inside of her. Everything slid downwards and she went with it, falling against Castiel, her body exhausted, her mind a mess of relief and worry.

He sank to the floor with her and held her close.

“He’s going to be fine,” he whispered. “You are too.”

The summer rushed through her head, ups and downs, horrors and worse. She saw black eyes and blood, felt every bruise, every strike against her flesh.

She wiped her eyes and sat back. “How?”

Castiel looked down, eyes sad but clear. “Time.”

Dean was sitting on the edge of his bed, fresh from a shower. His hair still damp, gray flannel a little dark around the collar from collecting the drippings. He was hunched over, elbows on his knees, head in his hand.

She knocked gently and he looked up.

“Hey, Dean.”

He turned as he stood and started to go to her, but something stopped him. Flashes of what he’d done played on the empty space between them and he lingered over the bruises on her throat, the cut on her forehead. His fingers were twitching and he shoved his hands in his pockets to hide the unwanted movements.

“Hey.”

She wanted to run to him, to wrap her arms around him and hold him close, but he looked nervous to have her there, scared almost.

She cleared her throat and wrung her hands. “You feeling OK?”

Eyes on the floor, he nodded. “Yeah. All good.” He looked up through his lashes, afraid to face her fully. “You?”

She sniffed back a wave of tears and swallowed hard. “Yeah. I’m- I’m good.”

The lies hung like an iron curtain between them, massive and unbreachable.

She turned to go. “Well, if you need anything, just holler.”

He was on her before she reached the door, shaking fingers wrapping around her wrist and pulling her back. She spun and crashed into his chest, burying her face in his shirt, clinging to him. He was warm and alive. He was safe. He was home.

She could feel him trembling, hear the shaky intake of air. He held her tight, his big hand on the back of her head, the other slung around her middle. He pressed his cheek to the top of her head.

“Y/N, I can’t- I- I’m so sorry-”

His heart was racing against her ear and she snuck her arms around him, locking him to her.

“Don’t,” she whispered. “We don’t have to do that yet. Just… just be here.”

A tear escaped his eye and fell, landing on her arm.

“OK.” His hug grew a little tighter. “I’m here.”

She sighed and let the tears go. “That’s all I ever needed…”

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[couldyouimagine-that]

Cuddles with Satan, Pt. 3

Genre; hurt/comfort, fluff

Word Count; 2.1k

Warnings; Canon-typical violence and death at the start, which you can skip if you wish. Dean being mean to the reader (but I love him, really I do). Reader has a bad head injury but it’s mostly the psychological aspect which is described. Lucifer being Lucifer (though per usual, a fluffier take on him).

Pairings; Lucifer (Supernatural) x Reader

Hi all! The long awaited and sought after (by some) part three of Cuddles with Satan is here! I had a lot of fun writing this one, hope it was worth the wait. This version of Cuddles involves wings :)

Masterlist

-

It was yet another bad day. In fact, it was the worst one you’d had for a long time.

You had misjudged a situation involving what you thought was a single demon. There turned out to be four of them, two of which came at you from behind immediately after you had told Sam and Dean to go ahead and rescue the people who were being held deeper in the warehouse. Because you could handle it. Once they’d beat you bloody, one of them had hit you over the back of the head with a lump of wood so hard that you’d passed out. When you came to, Sam was hauling you vaguely upright. Dean ran past without a glance your way, a young man draped across his shoulders and covered in blood.

You didn’t remember getting to the impala, but then trees were streaking past rapidly with Dean behind the wheel. Sam was trying to stem the main cause of bleeding on the man who was now slumped on the seat beside you. Dean swore and slammed his palms down on the wheel when Sam gave up because the man had stopped breathing. The next thing he screamed at was you.

You were almost grateful that your head was ringing too badly for you to hear every word he spat, but a few things were rolling around on repeat. The three people had all died, because the place was crawling with demons. You had said there was only one and you could handle it, so their blood was on your hands. If you had done your job and stopped the demons you were fighting, those people would still be alive. You thought somewhere in your dazed state that he was right.

Sam had taken a few verbal swings at his brother in your defence, but you were just too out of it to pay attention. You had the feeling that you were hurt worse than either of the Winchesters realised. But Dean was driving at breakneck speed to the bunker anyway, and you could get help soon. Or so you hoped. With Castiel wherever the hell he had disappeared off to, Lucifer was your single option. You had no doubt he would want something in return, but with your thoughts growing fuzzy, all you could do was focus on him and mentally cross your fingers.

Dean stormed off the minute he cut the engine. Sam moved to help you out of the car, but you waved him off as best you could. Convinced him to deal with the man who had lost his life instead. He lifted up the guy like he weighed nothing, gone from the garage in the time it had taken you to get both feet planted on the floor. You realised you were swaying at random when you tried to lead your head on the car seat and couldn’t manage. The movement caused an onslaught of nausea which you closed your eyes against, and that was of course the moment your saving grace – he’d probably hate to be called that – decided to show up.

You hadn’t heard Lucifer say your name too many times, but you could hardly believe how soft his voice sounded. He laid a firm yet gentle hand on your knee and made no comment when you couldn’t so much as acknowledge his presence. The next thing you knew, your vision had cleared, the nausea was gone, and a throbbing pain at the back of your head which you hadn’t even noticed became conspicuous by its absence. The suddenness of it all sent you pitching forwards – and straight into Lucifer’s arms. Your forehead came to rest on his shoulder and he kept you there with a hand on the back of your head. You took the excuse to stay put and catch your breath, though you couldn’t have extricated yourself even if you had wanted to.

Without a word, the archangel looped his arms beneath your knees and around your back, and you opened your eyes to find you were now in the room he had taken as his own. He deposited you on the comforter atop his bed with a care you wouldn’t have believed he was capable of. When you tried to sit up, he pushed your shoulders down easily.

“Stay there,” Lucifer told you. He spoke quietly, but his calm demeanour was betrayed by his blazing crimson eyes.

It had taken you long enough to realise, but the Devil was furious. You had somehow missed the tension defining his posture, the agitated way he couldn’t quite stand still. You were still in a bit of shock, but your mind was slowly clearing. It was about to become a very bad day for the objects of his anger.

“Where are you going?” You asked, lunging forward to grab his wrist when he went to pull back again. For a moment, just a bit of that irritation was turned on you.

“Just for a little one on one with the Winchesters. Won’t be long.”

You suspected you had roughly a few seconds to save your friends from being incinerated. Not very long ago, you would have thought it wasn’t possible. But now…

“Please don’t leave me.”

You heard the words as though someone else had said them and felt ridiculous the second they were out of your mouth. But the truth was, you were scared. You still didn’t know how close to a near death experience you had just come, but Lucifer’s reaction was giving you a pretty good idea. And that meant there was space for panic to start creeping in. What would have happened if you hadn’t gotten back to the bunker in time, or if Lucifer hadn’t appeared when he did? Would the Winchesters have realised you were in serious trouble and could they have even gotten the help you needed? Truthfully, you were more concerned for yourself than the brothers, even though they were now the ones in very imminent danger.

Your admission gave Lucifer pause. He didn’t think anyone had ever said something like that to him before and he couldn’t deny the burst of pride the thought gave him. He was leaning back down towards you before he really knew what he was doing, and his power shifted so dramatically that his eyes turned back to their usual bright blue.

The mattress moved a little beneath you as Lucifer sat down by your side. He laid a hand along the side of your head, fingertips brushing close to where your injury had been. However inhuman he was, you knew what his mind was caught on. If you had been less shaken up, the reasons behind why he had so suddenly and obviously decided to care about you would have bothered you a lot. As it was, his hand was steady and his proximity comforting.

A risk though it was, you gathered your courage and pulled him closer towards you. Lucifer allowed you to do it, smug, but there was a hint of something else beneath all his pride. It was softer and much more well-guarded – something to be analysed at another time. The archangel manoeuvred himself to lay next to you, only to drag you half on top of him with an arm around your waist. Your bodyweight was nothing to a creature like him. You held onto his shoulder and tucked your face against his chest, keeping as close as you could manage. He watched you the entire time. His frame was solid against you, steady and comforting.

Lucifer squeezed you closer to him for a moment, an arm across your lower back and a hand on your ribs. Then, he wound his fingers through your hair and against the back of your head and you almost sighed out loud. Your head tipped forward automatically, eyes closed. The archangel gently dragged his fingertips over your scalp, almost massaging the skin. He was thrilled you would display so much trust in him in response to such a simple touch, but you didn’t need to know that.

He grinned to himself as your very energy changed, all your concerns melting away into utter relaxation. But his face fell as his mind began to wander. He had always known how fragile humans were. Before, it had only ever served as another way to show how flawed they were. Now though… That wound could have so easily turned fatal. There was no way the Winchesters, another set of idiot humans, would have realised the help you needed in time. Without wings, he doubted you would have even made it to the hospital. The brothers would pay for their oversight, even if you thought you could protect them from him.

You hissed lightly, and he realised the thought had made him catch his nails on your scalp. He healed what was an incredibly minor scratch with a click of his tongue, then went back to the massage you seemed to be enjoying so much. Lucifer couldn’t truly justify what he did next, even to himself, but with a sigh he physically manifested his wings. He doubted you even knew that was an option, but you were verging on the edge of sleep at this point. You hadn’t noticed.

The archangel wrapped his wings around you, covering you carefully with the longest feathers. He had never particularly felt their weight, but they were so large that he supposed you did. You did sigh out loud that time, then tried and failed to push yourself even closer against him in response. He scoffed quietly, but he knew the noise was far more fond than it should have been. That was definitely something to deal with later. As it was, laying on his back with his wings out wasn’t the most comfortable experience ever, but he found that it was worth it.

You eventually found the strength to open your eyes. It was a struggle not to fall asleep then and there, but you wanted to confirm for yourself that the literal Devil had in fact put a comforter over you. What you found was that your field of vision was so filled with white that you couldn’t make it out. The colour struck you as odd, given you couldn’t recall ever having seen a white comforter in the bunker before. Then again, maybe he’d just manifested it. So you did the next logical thing, which was to reach out a hand and touch this mysterious comforter to make sure of what it was. And the whole thing jolted sharply, Lucifer’s body tensing and his hand stilling in your hair.

It took you a minute to connect the dots. You propped yourself up on an elbow and half turned to get a better look – at Lucifer’s wings. They were immediately enthralling, the shadowy impressions of those belonging to ordinary angels absolutely nothing in comparison. You gently ran your fingers over the feathers on the leading edge of the one closest to you. They were cool and soft, perfectly overlapping with one another. Your touch trailed down one of the end primaries as far as you could reach, which was maybe halfway. If Lucifer possessed even an ounce of your trusting nature, he would have closed his eyes like you had earlier.

As it was, he let you go on for a while before pushing you back down towards him with the wing you weren’t touching. Your eyes went wide and your thoughts turned to panic as you realised what you had been doing, and to who. That was certainly enjoyable.

“Hush,” Lucifer murmured, before you’d had a chance to say so much as a word out loud. He guided your head back to his shoulder and returned his wings to their original position – which had absolutely nothing to do with wanting to feel like he was protecting you, as he had certainly not done that for real already. He threaded his fingers back into your hair and through, quite frankly, your disbelief of the entire situation, he heard you decide not to comment.

Though you fell asleep quickly, Lucifer didn’t move. He also didn’t allow himself to close his eyes, not even for a moment, to enjoy the feeling of your weight against him. Nor the feeling of holding someone who knowingly wanted him to be this close. He fully intended to go on ignoring the furious clash of you and his deep-seated hatred of humans for as long as possible.

[deancaspinefest]

Take The Long Way Home

Author: sidewinder | Artist: caught-a-dragonfly (Sarah)

Posting on Monday April 15

Two months ago, the world didn’t end. But for Dean Winchester, who fully expected to sacrifice not just his life but his very soul in order to stop Amara? The celebration has been clouded by the disappearance of his best friend, Cas—the friend he’d started to realize meant more to him than he’d been willing to accept until now. The last anyone’s seen of Castiel was when he was banished from the bunker by Toni Bevell. The Brits swear they don’t have him. Neither Heaven nor Hell claim to know of his whereabouts. All of Dean’s calls, texts and prayers to the angel have gone unanswered, and Dean can’t help but worry that a "Winchester win" has once again come at a terrible price. One day hope finally arrives in a lead from an unexpected if not always trustworthy ally. However finding Cas might end up being only the first step in saving him—not simply from the forces holding him captive, but from the prison of his own mind.

Keep reading for a sneak preview!

As Dean approached the galley, he saw the light on there already, meaning he wasn’t the only early bird up and about today. His mood brightened with a momentary spark of hope—Cas rarely slept, and when he was around the bunker, he usually enjoyed hanging around in the kitchen to read or watch cat videos and shit all night on one of their laptops. But Dean’s bubble of hope burst when he saw it was just his brother, sitting there in his sweatpants and a ratty old t-shirt, chugging a disgusting-looking green smoothie. Sam was no doubt ready to head out on his morning self-imposed torture session—that is, a five-mile run looping around the bunker to Lebanon and back.

Kid seriously had to be the devil’s vessel if he found that kind of physical torment enjoyable.

“Hey,” Dean grunted at his brother.

Sam looked up from his laptop at Dean and nodded. “Hey. You’re up early.”

“You too. Couldn’t sleep?”

“Rarely do.”

Yeah, that was something they had in common. “Anything up?” Dean asked on his way to fill the coffeepot with water. 

“Not really. Just restless, I guess. I found a case, maybe. Not that I was looking for one,” Sam added quickly. “But while I was searching for any signs of Cas, or Lucifer, I came across a news story about some strange deaths in Wichita. It’s not far from here, and—”

“If you wanna go hunt whatever it is, go for it,” Dean cut him off. “Take mom. I know she’s itching to get out of here and do somethin’ other than stare at our ugly mugs all day.” 

“Dean—”

“No, Sam. I mean it. Until I know where Cas is, I just can’t. My head’s not in the game.” A distracted hunter was a dead hunter. That was the rule their father had drilled into them as soon as they each could carry a weapon, and learn about the things that went bump in the night being real. A week ago, Dean had let Sam talk him into going on a “milk run” hunt to clear out a small vampire nest near Toledo and he’d nearly lost his neck thanks to not fully concentrating on the job at hand.

“Okay, I get it.”

“Do you?” Dean snapped. “Cas has been missing for two months, Sam! We have no idea where he is, if he even—”

Dean cut himself off. He couldn’t say it. Not out loud.

If he even survived.

(continue reading on Ao3 on Monday April 15)

[destieltaggedfic]

Hi I’ve been reading Time Cast A Spell On You by bethefirstwhoeverdid and I literally love it! Do you have any similar recommendations? Also this isn’t a requirement but I would love if you knew any with Bobby in them<3

Oh ok. I haven’t read that one because it’s not finished yet. But from what I can work out its time travel, or swapping places with yourself. This I can work with.

Simply Shoveling Sand - Lucha_Pseud   Ao3

Set S13 AU & S5.  In the process of burning Cas Dean wishes he could have told Cas he loved him and ends up on the night he took Cas to the brothel and with Dean’s memories Cas finds a new way to stop the apocalypse

Word Count: 6k                                                 No Sex

Know And Understand - Aaron_The_8th_Demon   Ao3

Set 15x20 didn’t happen AU & S4.  In the process of saving Cas, Jack accidentally sent the modern one back to early in the apocalypse and brought that one forward.  A Dean fresh out of hell appreciates the soft way Cas treats him while older Dean has trouble with a Cas back to default settings.

Word Count: 10k                              No Sex

Crazy Diamonds - pantheon_of_discord   Ao3

Set S4 & S14 AU.  Two Deans 10 years apart have switched places.  One has woken up in the bunker with a human version of the crazy angel that dragged him out of hell.  The other has woken up in his own past and this Castiel is confused by his overly familiar behaviour.

Word Count: 25k                              Graphic Sexual Acts

Darkness Driving Bliss – devilwearsplaid   Ao3

Set S6AU.  Miserable hunting by himself while Sam is in hell and Cas is busy in heaven, Dean is on the trail of a ghost but an encounter with a strange woman propels him to the future where he apparently plays golf with angels and Cas is not just permanently living with them in a bunker, he is also human.

Word Count: 20k                              No Sex

A Crash Course in Someone Else's History - Annie D (scaramouche)   Ao3

Set S4 & S6.  Just after he takes his vessel Castiel finds himself summoned and trapped in a ring of holy fire by none other than the man he just rescued from hell who is claiming that it is actually 3 years later and that Cas is in the middle of betraying them.

Word Count: 12k                              No Sex

[snowbazzledestielshipper]

SNEAK PEEK

Sneak peek for an upcoming chapter of Dean’s List below!

Electricity pulses under Dean's skin at every point of contact he shares with the other man. Dean's pretty sure he's just gotten shocked. That’s the only thing that makes sense.

Cas goes stiff and steps back, and that’s when Sam coughs to let them know he’s back.

He looks even angrier than when he left, but stays silent and packs up his and Dean’s bags with all of the things he brought for them.

He doesn’t say another word until Castiel has left to get lunch for the trio.

“”I can’t believe you. You’re still falling for him.” Sam accuses.

Dean scoffs.

“I’m not falling for anything. He’s cute and really nice, and he makes good pie, but I don’t fall over the first person to be nice to me, Sam. Seriously, do you really think so little of me?”

Sam lets out a deep sigh.

“No, I don’t. I just don’t understand why you’re so willing to accept help from him.”

"He's offering the help and he seems trustworthy. I don't know, Sam, he just seems nice and he's had a hard life and I can relate, you know?"

"I know, I just don't trust him. It seems like he's hiding something."

~~~

"Where the hell have you been hiding?"

Castiel hears the voice before he sees him, and is instantly filled with both love and dread.

He spins and locks eyes with his older brother. He loved Gabriel, but he could be a bit much at the best of times, and he was here to distract Castiel from the funeral.

"Gabriel, I haven't been hiding anywhere, I've just been busy finishing school. It's been a rough semester."

Gabriel softens, bringing his little brother into a hug.

"How have you been holding up?"

"Not well. She was my best friend, I was proposing the next day, and intead, I spent it in the hospital and she spent it..." He cuts off before the dam broke and the tears threatening to spill over were unleashed.

Gabriel pulls back and then drags Castiel out of the airport and over to the bus stop.

"So, back to your place, then dinner and then I’m taking your sad ass on an adventure!” He stumbles as he spins around and rights himself just in time to avoid knocking into Castiel.

“First, I want to help some friends move in to my place. Since you sprung this on me last minute, I don’t have an actual room for you to sleep in, just the futon.”

“Hey, I just wanted to cheer up my favorite brother! Is he at least hot?” Gabriel asks, snarkily, as Cas rolls his eyes.

“None of your concern. And before you ask, no, you cannot ‘hit that’ and no, you can’t force him to sleep on the couch. He’s wheelchair bound and his 16 year old brother is in the other room.”

“You cleared out the office? Cas, who is this guy?” Gabriel’s tone is suddenly serious, which makes Castiel nervous.

"A friend." Castiel levels a stern look at his brother.

"Okay, fine. What is he like?"

"Kind, brave, smart, and loyal to a fault. He raised his little brother when his dad got abusive. He knows all of the details of the accident, and didn’t make a big deal out of it, and he got seriously injured. So I decided that I would help where I could and offered them a place to stay while Dean does physical thereapy and heals. It's close to Sam's school, close to the college, close to the hospital. It was all my fault, so I'm doing the best I can to atone for the crash.”

A worried look crosses Gabriel’s face, but then the bus is pulling up and they are boarding.

“I suppose you have an opinion, brother?” Castiel asks once they sit.

"I do, but I'm saving it for when I meet these chuckleheads. All I want to say to you is that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, now does it?"

Castiel rolls his eyes, but stays quiet for the rest of the bus ride back to his appartment, as his brother regales him with his tales of glory and conquests.


•••




They unboard at their stop, and Cas takes a deep breath to steady himself.

"So how's everything else In your life? classes still classing? You still... You-ing?" Gabriel asks, stumbling though the phrase with the grace of a baby duck learning to walk.

"Everything is mostly fine. Let's just get inside and get this over with."

"Fine, but just know, for the record, your life is a thousand times more interesting now than it used to be." He takes the stairs two at a time and has to slow down every few steps to let his little brother catch up, until they get to Cas' floor and bump into Sam loading boxes into the apartment.

"Lemme help you with that, small fry." Gabriel plucks the box off of the teen's shoulders and he whips around ready to fight. He stops in his tracks when he sees Gabriel though.

"Oh, hey. Thought you were my brother for a minute. He doesn’t like to follow doctors orders."

"Hey, I'm Gabe Malek, how's things, little dude?"

Sam smiles and a light pink dusts his cheeks.

"Nope, nope nope nope, shutting that down right now. You're cute, kid, but I'm way too old for you, and even though I've heard you've got more than enough baggage for me, you could do better. You're young. I promise you will do better."

Sam glares and rolls his eyes.

"Name's Sam, and I have a girlfriend, thankyouverymuch. Now please shut up and help me with these boxes. Also, I'm only two inches shorter than you, so I’m not sure ‘little dude’ is the nickname you want to use."

Gabe cackles and Cas is left standing in the hall wondering what the hell just happened.

“That should be the last of it.” Sam says, dusting off his hands after settling his box down.

“You don’t have anything else?” Cas asks, looking at the small gathering of boxes in his room.

“Not that I can bring on the bus with me. Luckily, Bobby, our landlord is letting us keep our beds and stuff at his place while Dean heals. He’s also Dean’s boss at the garage he works at, so we’ve known him since we moved here.”

Castiel nods, amazed by the information the younger Winchester just willingly gave. He’d barely said two sentences to him since Dean agreed to take him up on the offer.

Maybe having Gabriel here wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

That thought was quickly shattered when Gabe started showing Sam all the most fun ways to flip people off, and Sam joined in with a few of his own.

“Where is Dean?” Cas asked, hoping he would get a straight answer out of the distracted teen.

“Trying to find the best way to get both of us to school on time. He wants to go back as soon as he can. He should be back here soon.”

Cas nods and heads into the kitchen to make coffee and order a few pizzas.

Dean wheels in a few minutes later, bumping into some things as he tries to maneuver his new chair. The hospital fitted him for a specialized one a few weeks ago, but he hadn’t actually gotten it until the day after he left and this was his first time trying it on his own.

“Dean, how’d it go?” Sam asked from the couch, trying to organize some boxes into ones for Dean’s room and ones for his own. There wasn’t much, they didn’t have much, but clothes, perishable food from their own apartment, and school stuff were non negotiable.

“Not bad, kid. It took a while to get my bearings, but when that was sorted, I was fine. shouldn't take too long to get you to school in the mornings from here on the bus. Where's Cas?”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15530436

[starseneyes]

Part IV - Destiel Meta - Dean Winchester / Castiel - Supernatural

You read Part I, Part II, Part III, and still want to read more of my insane ramblings!? Wow. I think I love you.

This was the wildest Meta I've ever written. And the longest continuous Meta for me, too! I hope someone out there gets a fraction of the enjoyment reading it that I got writing it.

WARNING: These are just my opinions. We all have our own head cannons and I don't think mine's more valid than anyone else's!

SPOILERS: Everything is fair game. I hold nothing back from the series.

Good to go? Yeah, we're good. Let's dive in.

S11E01 -

Oh, goody, the weird Darkness arc where Dean’s supposed to have sexual tension with a woman and it just doesn’t land.

Look, I’ve said before—chemistry is or isn’t. And there are others who I am sure saw Dean and Amara together and were just waiting for them to rip their clothes off and claim one another as the new creation.

I’m just not one of them.

And it’s not the Destiel clouding me. I mean, I’ve seen Dean have some mad chemistry with some of his hookups.

This one just never read as sexual to me… more an incomprehensible drawing of the one who unleashed the Darkness and the Darkness itself.

Oh. My. Gosh. It’s Zuul and Vinz from Ghostbusters. Like, no chemistry, but a strange drawing to one another. And, yes, I know how that ended, but I didn’t like that one, either, even as a kid.

There is no Dean. Only Zuul.

“Where the hell are you, Cas?” I’m, I’m okay.” “You don’t sound okay.” “Dean, I am fine. Besides, what I have, you can’t help me.” “What do you mean what you have?” “Just, please tell Sam Rowena escaped with the Book of the Damned and Codex.” “Okay, forget Rowena, where are you?”

Dean can hear how bad off Cas is—and he’s scared.

The last time he saw Cas, he beat the shit out of him. And now it sounds like things have only gotten worse.

That’s bound to activate some of Dean’s Protective Hubby status, especially now that the Mark’s gone.

“Now, you tell me, the Mark.” “Oh, really, you’re worried about me after everything that I-”

Yes, Dean. After everything. After all the things he knows you’ve done. After all the things you’ve done to him. After all the things he’s done to you.

After everything you will still be Cas and Dean.

“Dean. Is it gone?” “Yes, I’m good. I mean, I’m not great.”

Look at the relief on Castiel’s face. He needed that. He needed to hear that it worked. That Dean Winchester—his Dean Winchester—would still walk the Earth, no matter what happened to Cas next.

“Sam. Dean. Goodbye. It may be some time before we see one another again.”

And Dean’s trying to keep Cas on the line, to get more information from him, to know that he’s going to be okay. But he is far from okay.

“We can’t save Cas if we’re stuck in a hospital, okay?”

The mission shifts. Because Dean fucked Castiel up (derogatory) the last time they saw one another, and now he knows the Angel’s in deep shit. And he wants to save him.

He wants to be the one. He has to do something good for him after all the bullshit.

Because Sam didn’t give up on his big brother. And Cas didn’t give up on his maybe something. And much as Dean protested at the time, he’s here and he needs to protect the people he loves, again.

S11E02 -

“Near as I can tell, when you have to choose between Heaven and the Winchesters, you choose them, every time. So, you see, you’re not my brother.”

Oh, good, return of the Dick Angels. And, yes, I combined them up there. They’re not worth the quotation marks.

Hannah?! Fucking Hannah is going to be the savior?!

Oh, nevermind. Good, I always knew she was a bitch. I feel vindicated.

“Help me.”

Gotta love that he fixed his tie before going to them. Like, seriously, what a weird choice, Cas.

S11E03 -

“Sorry about those, Cas. Til we know what’s goin on with you, you're still a bit of a wild card, you know?”

Why the fuck didn’t we use those on you, Dean!? You were all like, “Sure, I’m slaying left and right like everyone’s worst bloody nightmare, but I’m good”.

Two seconds of “something’s off with Cas” and the chains go on. Gee wiz.

“Cas, you alright pal? … It appears I simply respond differently than humans.”

And while Cas is trying just to sit upright, the Winchesters are stage-whispering about how much worse he’s getting.

Y’all, he could hear you through the door when he was in Betrayal Mode. You really think barely lowering your voice is going to do anything when he’s two feet away at the next table!?

Seriously, Winchesters. He’s an Angel.

“You think it’s crappy?” “Eye of the beholder.”

I love how Dean’s the one to reassure Cas. Because, we all see value in different place, right?

And this is another case of Cas seeing a value that Dean can’t—Cas saw the value in his car. He sees the value in Dean.

It’s such a little thing, but I like the consistency in character, there.

Cas seizures and falls, and the boys run to him.

Interestingly enough, before the fade to black, the only voice we hear calling out to Cas is Dean’s.

Probably meant nothing when someone wrote it that way, but then little ole fans like me wander in and go, “Coincidence? I think not” (thanks The Incredibles).

I mean, yeah, this one’s probably a coincidence, but it’s more fun out here in delulu land.

When he wakes, he sees Sam there, but Dean’s the one touching him, a hand on the shoulder.

“It’s like I was inside a blender that was set to puree for a tomato salsa.” “And you’re the tomato.” “In this analogy, yes.” {Sam stares}

Damnit, Sam! They were having a moment. Yes, I know you’re concerned about Cas and whatnot, but that was cute.

They help him up and Dean places a blanket over Cas, leaving a hand on his shoulder. He only removes the hand when Cas starts talking about the voices.

“First thing’s first.”

I kinda love that Heaven’s priority is Metatron, and Dean’s is Castiel. I mean, wow. Wanna talk about how things have shifted, how things have changed.

They could go after Metatron to deal with the Darkness, but Cas comes first.

He’s down so bad for the little winged Angel and he doesn’t even know it!

“And your friend with the bent halo? He goes foaming at the mouth mad and dies.”

Well, this is new one to the “ways to describe the broken Angel” category. Poor little Castiel.

“Your wee pal Castiel wouldn’t be in this pickle if you’d done what you’d promised.”

She says this to Sam, but it’s a nice twist of the knife in Dean’s ribs.

“Cas. Let her go.”

He listens. Through the fucking spell cast by one of the most powerful witches in existence, Castiel hears Dean. Tell me that’s not fucking love!

“It’s gonna be alright, buddy, okay?”

And then Cas gets a turn to beat the shit out of Dean. Seriously, if these two would just go to couples’ counseling, a lot of this could be avoided.

Yes, I know. I know. Magic Spell. Mark of Cain. Lots of other magic, supernatural bullshit.

Cas starts to seizure and Dean—who is already on his knees—drops lower to be close to the same level as him. Dean lifts Castiel’s face, cupping the Angel’s face with his right hand, the other on his shoulder.

Dean helps him to sit up, then places a hand on either side of his face, holding his eyes before patting him on the shoulder, right hand still cupping his face.

“Dean, I… there aren’t words.” “You’re right, there aren’t words, Cas, ’cause there’s no need.”

And that’s still my over-reaching theory for these two and Heaven. Dean will never need to tell Cas that things are different since they said goodbye, that he’s had the chance to examine their relationship through the eyes of love—something that never occurred to him before.

His mother and Bobby already know. No doubt, they’ve told John, so he’s up to speed.

So when the Angel and Dean show up for family get-togethers and hanging at the bar, seeing one with an arm around the other is commonplace.

No words are needed.

But, I’m getting way ahead on this one.

“You were under a spell, it’s fine.” “Yeah, but you had Rowena. Because of me, you-” “You know, Cas, we’ve got the codex. That’s a start.”

Sam tries to comfort Castiel, who always sees himself as a burden to those he loves. Heaven treats him as broken, and he wants so badly to do well for these humans—his chosen family.

It’s almost worse to let down your chosen family, you know? The people who found in life and thought, “Yup, they’re mine!”

Because that kind of love isn’t demanded by custom and blood, but forged in fire and hope.

“Dean, I can fix that.” “No, no, no. It’s fine, Cas. Besides, I had it coming.”

Dean looks up to meet Cas’ eyes. It’s purposeful.

I don’t know if either of them told Sam how bad it was—how close Dean came to killing Castiel under the weight of the Mark of Cain.

And they haven’t discussed that at all.

Look how Castiel responds to that. The little tilt of the head. The “oh, darling” expression in his eyes as his mouth closes.

Dean doesn’t use a lot of words, but Castiel knows enough what this is—his penance. His apology. His punishment for what he did to Cas.

Dean turns away, but looks back at Cas, briefly. He’s lingering on that moment where he almost made one of the worst choices of his life. So, he’ll take this pain, damnit, because it’s nothing compared to the emotional pain he’s not ready to deal with.

And this whole sequence cuts Sam out like he isn’t even there (Hell, Padalecki probably wasn’t there at all because it’s not his coverage)—because this conversation is about Dean and Cas.

It’s only after Cas sits that we see Sam, again, looking between the two.

S11E04 -

They shot an entire episode… from the car’s perspective!? How many cameras? My production mind has so many questions!

Sure, bottle episode, blah, blah, blah. But now that we’re waiting 2+ years for streamers to release 10 episode seasons, I’d gladly take back the 22-26 seasons every few months even if it meant there were some filler episodes and bottle episodes in there.

We didn’t know how good we had it.

“Cas is getting better, so theres that. Still wants to fix your-” “I’m fine. 100%.” “Alright, well, he’s not. He still needs more time to heal. “Maybe, guess we got nothing to do but get better.”

It says a lot that even after Dean said he deserved it, Cas still wants to fix it. He always wants to fix it, especially for Dean.

“Cas, you’ve got one job to do, and that’s heal, you understand?”

Look at these two. So stubborn. So similar. Castiel knows that Dean would be doing the exact damn thing—trying to help when he should probably be resting. And Dean’s trying to take care of the damn Angel, but he’s so resistant.

“You think he’s gonna be okay?” “He just needs some time, you know? We all do.”

He keeps talking about the “we” here needing healing and restoration. I don’t know if our boy is finally realizing he can’t bounce back like he did in his 20’s, or whatnot, but it’s recurrent in this episode.

Also, I wonder how much Castiel told them about his torture at the hands of other Angels, at how they told him he is entirely unwelcome. He has been cut off by the only family he ever knew, even when he begged for mercy and help.

But the Winchesters—despite Dean nearly killing him and he beating the shit out of Dean not a week later—are there for him. His chosen family.

So, if he has to stay home and heal, he’s going to try to do something productive with the time he has.

And, I’m sorry, can I join the Bob Seger sing-a-long because that shit is fucking adorable. Oh, it’s nice when the show reminds us that these brothers do have good times together. They need that. We need that.

We need the reminders of what we’re fighting for.

And, yes, this is a show. It’s a television show that’s been off the air for five years. But it means something to us.

In the real world, there’s so much going on right now that’s tough and terrifying. But I choose to rebel by injecting as much joy as I can into my life. And I love cheering for my friends who are experiencing joy.

Because we’re all beautiful, as we are. And there are factors trying to take away our rights, to silence our voices, to restrict our movements, to overwhelm us to the point we shut down.

But if we remember what we’re fighting for, we can help carry each other through. Even if one of us loses faith for a while, others will carry the torch so the light is never-ending, still guiding us toward that indestructible construct—hope.

Television shows may seem like throw away things, but even a TV show can give us hope. For many, Supernatural is the show they put on when the world goes to shit. It’s a comfort in trying times.

Entertainment is often billed as pulpy or unworthy of attention if it doesn’t strike certain tones or themes, but I think that’s bullshit. Because entertainment, characters, stories… these are the magic.

So, yes, I love when Supernatural shows these boys actually functioning as brothers who get a minute just to be together and experience a moment where they aren’t drenched in blood or burdens.

Sometimes sometimes they just sing along with the radio. And that’s beautiful.

“Really? You don’t ever want something more?” “I’m sorry. Have you met us? We’re batting a whopping zero in domestic life, man. Goose eggs.”

Bro, you’ve been in a domestic partnership with an Angel (formerly) of the Lord for a few years, now. But because Cas isn’t running around in a frilly apron making you meatloaf, you don’t see it.

“You don’t ever think about something? Not marriage or whatever, but… something? You know with a Hunter? Somebody who understands the life?”

Y’all are just being obtuse, now. Hmmm. Who do we know that Dean has a more-than-friends but not-brotherly affectionate and loving relationship with? Who? Hmmm. I wonder…

“Come on, man. That quote? ’God helps those who help themselves?’ God didn’t say that. That’s not even in the Bible. That’s an old proverb that dates back to Aesop. … I read.”

Dean [No Middle Name] Winchester, can you just stop and accept that you’re fucking smart!? Sometimes he is so committed to putting everyone in their boxes that he thinks that both he and Sam can’t be smart—only one of them. And he’ll choose Sammy every time.

Give yourself more credit, damn it!

And how wild is it that the boys both dream of a normal life? Because Dean will never admit it and never pursue it. But, some part of him does want it.

“Cas? You okay?”

I love that his first thought it that something must be wrong with Castiel, and that’s why he’s calling. And then Castiel ends up being the one freaked out, crying Dean’s name over and over.

And then Dean just leaves him, again, to decapitate the guy.

“Alright, Cas, you there?” “Of course. What’s going on?”

Him and his “of course” to Dean. I guess that’s his “As you wish”, right?

“Thanks, Cas. Good work. Way to come off the bench.”

All those words of affirmation for his little Angel. Gosh, I love when he gives Castiel those little morsels to hold onto after all the horrors of the Angels. Dean doesn’t even realizing he’s doing it, but it matters.

“We’ll get Cas to fix you up.” “Only if he fixes you up, too.” “Okay, Mom.”

He finally gives in to letting Cas help, but only because Sam pushed him. Good.

S11E05 -

“What do you want to do about Cas?” “Oh, he’s knee-deep in binge watching The Wire. Just started Season 2.” “Oh, yeah, he’s not coming out anytime soon.”

They both know Cas is shaken up bad. So, maybe he did tell them about the bullshit with the Angels and my (least) favorite Angel, Hannah.

S11E06 -

“Oh, what, you think he’s ready? He’s had a pretty rough go of it lately.” “Which one of us hasn’t?”

I forgot Season 11 is where Dean and Sam switch when it comes to Cas, where Dean becomes the more protective one and Sam gets more exasperated.

I know I talk a lot about how Dean’s feelings for Cas get deeper when he loses him, but I think that whole “nearly killing Castiel” thing also fucked with him pretty bad.

Because, he nearly did it. He was inches from doing it. And Castiel still didn’t give up on him.

Who, besides his little brother, would have been willing to go through all that and not utter a word or demand an apology? Castiel understands, and so Dean doesn’t have to use words. Cas just knows.

But, now his Protective Hubby mode might actually be hurting more than it’s helping.

“Seems insane to leave our one and only Angel friend on the bench.” “I’ll call him.”

We’ve come a long way from “Why does it always have to be me to make the call?” to Dean willingly offering to make the call. And Dean steps away from Sam to make it, too, putting distance between himself and his brother.

And that is fascinating to me, because he doesn’t want Sam to overhear. He wants to just focus on talking to Cas and try to get him off the bench.

“Cas. How you doing, buddy?”

Castiel is caught up in daytime television—the kind of stuff I only really watched with babysitters and my abuella when she took me sometimes in the Summer. There’s a reason I would excuse myself to read on the back porch, instead.

“Well, you sound weird, okay? Bad weird. … So, do me a favor. Turn off the TV. Go outside and get some air. We’re int he dark here, pal. I need you back in the game, okay?”

He tried. He tried to get through. And he was honest.

But just approaching the door is bringing on a wave of trauma… of beating the shit out of Dean again. Of Dean, again saying, “This isn’t you”. He sees the other Angels, all the pain he’s wrought.

And we never get to see the Leviathan arc properly because so much of that season he’s gone and under Naomi’s control. But, I imagine if there was footage, that’d be in here, too.

Yes, Castiel has done some horrible things before. And sometimes things roll off you and sometimes they don’t, and you can’t explain why. That’s this whole bloody affair.

And at the end of the whole flashback sequence—book ending with him beating the shit out of Dean—is Cain-marked Dean kicking his ass while he never fought back, merely tried to block the blows.

Cas ends up back watching television—giving him an unexpected break in the case. See, Mom? Binge-watching can be helpful!

“You are broken, Castiel. You were always a bit of a nancy, but this?”

I’m sorry. Did he just call Castiel gay!? I mean, I’m not a fan of derogatory words, but this is implying Cas has always been noticeably different.

“Look, Guys, I’m as glad as anyone that Stella got her groove back, but you let Metatron go?” “Dean, how many times are you gonna repeat that question?”

Enough for the audience to catch up, I suspect, and no more.

“He’s not a threat to us.”

Us. Castiel sees himself as part of the team, part of the family. Finally.

“She overpowered me. End of story.”

Except Castiel can detect lies. He knows there’s something Dean’s not telling him, and Sam can see from Cas’ reaction that something’s up.

S11E07 -

“This is everything Cas dug up in Gaza, every last bit of pre-Biblical lore.”

We remember you, buddy! Even if you aren’t with us.

S11E10 -

Dean’s a mess with the poisoning, so Castiel finds him blowing chunks on the side of the road.

“Dean. I came as soon as you called. Are you alright?” “Cas?” {spews} “You’re not alright.” “Obviously.”

Castiel appears to be going through something he saw on a medical drama. Because, we know he can detect things just from observation.

Okay, I’m sorry, Amara carved a message on Castiel’s chest so he just had to flash it at Dean? Okay, yeah, you talked big game about how insignificant Cas is, but your little puppet, Dean, has a mighty connection to this little Angel.

And now he can’t stop staring at the Angel’s nipples. So, yeah, not sure you knew what you were doing there, babe.

And what was that choice of Dean looking over at Cas very confused and unsure how to feel during Lucifer’s little dance party? It caught my eye, made me laugh, and made me wonder many things.

I mean, this episode is all over the place, but I’m not mad. Just confounded.

And… we begin the Casifer Arc.

S11E11 -

“Hello, Dean.” “Right, yeah.” … “I’m sorry.”

Starting small with classic Cas phrases. There you go, Casifer. Gotta ease into it a bit. And, damnit, this is that thing that is hard for me to do—watching something uncomfortable.

Like, to Dean it isn’t. He has no idea his buddy’s a vessel for hellfire and damnation. But, for me, I’m screaming at him going, “No! No! Don’t open up to fucking Lucifer!”

I’m as bad as my Uncle yelling at the Washington Commanders not to fumble the ball during a playoff. Yes, he’s a Commanders fan. No, there’s nothing I can do about it.

“I’ve had two shots at Amara. I struck out both times. … I don’t even know where to start.”

Yes, I’m cutting out the Casifer stuff because it’s not Cas.

But Dean thinks it’s Cas, so he unloads and shares everything. And it’s uncomfortable to me because Castiel is in there, somewhere, missing his human confiding in him.

Because Dean trusts Castiel in ways he doesn’t trust anyone else. He loves Cas in ways he doesn’t love anyone else. And if Lucifer was aware of their whole thing, oh, wow, is he hearing alarm bells about it, now.

He’s got Castiel’s vessel and memories and emotions and feelings swimming around in there. And he’s got Dean three inches from his face pouring his heart out in the dark.

And I’m not the first to make the following point, but it goes along with what I’ve always thought—Castiel accepts Dean as he comes. He would never judge him for whatever’s going on between him and Amara.

I mean, Dean beats the shit out of him, and Castiel does not judge. Dean murders a bunch of people, and while calling him on his shit, Castiel does not judge.

Dean. It’s not your Angel! Run!!

And when he puts the hand on the shoulder like that? It’s wrong. Something’s off. It’s not right. And some part of Dean knows it.

Okay. phew Made it through one Dean-doesn’t-know-it’s-Lucifer scene. But it wasn’t easy.

I don’t know why I’m this way. Truly! I don’t like to be uncomfortable. I can handle some gore and dark themes and murders and serial killers and so much more. But give me an uncomfortable scene and I’m still 12 years old looking between my fingers.

“Cas gone?” “Yeah, I guess so.” “What was he doing here, anyway?” “He was looking for lore on the darkness. Something a little off about him, too.”

Yes, Dean. Yes. You know your husband well enough by now to know when something’s wrong. He’s not your Angel!

If Sam hadn’t dismissed it so quickly, you might have followed it and figured it out earlier.

S11E12 -

“What about you, you hear from Cas?”

Nobody’s heard from Cas since the cage, my friends. You just don’t know it, yet.

S11E13 -

Dean, Dean, Dean. If you’re with someone with any skills, you don’t end up with hickey at age 40, just sayin’.

And I looked it up, and Dean was 37 in this season, roughly, but just sayin’. I stopped leaving marks like that in my teens, and the last time I saw a peer with one, he was 22 or so.

Dean, my man, find better lovers. cough Castiel cough

Also, glad he finally opened up to Sam about his Amara pull. At least he knows it’s not love. He might not know much about love, but that ain’t it.

S11E14 -

Oh, goodie, Rachel gets to be uncomfortable, again. Dean-o, can you just, I dunno, skip the “Maybe Cas isn’t as off as I think” phase, this time?

We did it when he was working with Crowley in Season 6. We did it when he came back in Season 7 and didn’t have all his faculties. We did it in Season 8 when he was being controlled by Naomi.

At some point you gotta trust your instincts and go, “that’s not my Angel!” C’mon!

But, more credit to Collins and those damn micro expressions. Even when Lucifer is trying to be comforting, or speak as he believes Cas would, there’s an edge to it.

Our Cas, when speaking lovingly, has a gentle quality, like he’s trying not to disturb someone who has a gun pointed at him with an itchy trigger finger. Casifer’s eyes are hardened, lacking in any softness.

Damn, man.

I mean, until Supernatural, the only thing I’d seen Collins in was an episode of Timeless where I was so impressed I immediately looked up his IMDB to see what else he might’ve been in.

When I saw Supernatural, I exclaimed, “Oh, it’s the Angel!” because though I didn’t really get into the show during its first run, I’m terminally online.

I mean, y’all—all two of you—are reading this on Tumblr, a site I’ve been on about 15 years. If we’re here, we’re all terminally online.

Something else that is fascinating about the cinematography here is the choice of who to feature in two-shots. We’re getting a lot less of Dean and Casifer, and that honestly helps make things feel… off.

Like, as a viewer I was watching and trying to figure out what felt wrong about the scene. And if it was purposeful, wow, it was beautifully done. I know that something’s wrong, here.

Oooh, and we’re at the iconic GIFs. The GIFs I saw before the episode of Collins switching on a dime from Casifer to Cas, and even without sound I knew to tell the two apart.

“I’ll just say, ’Dean’.” {pauses, holds up finger, lowers voice and turns on puppy dog eyes} “Dean.”

And the subtitles say “imitating Castiel’s gruff voice” and I have to say, I’ve never thought of it as “gruff”. Gravely, maybe, but not gruff. He’s too pookybear!

As Lucifer goes to kill Sam, Castiel steps in.

“Hello, Castiel.”

Damn, that Angel’s got some fight. Fight, baby, fight!!

“Sam, it’s me.” “Cas. Why?” “I wanted to be of service to the fight, and only Lucifer can beat her.” “You chose this? You have to fight, Cas. Eject him, now!” “I can’t. It’s taking all my strength to keep him from killing you. And besides, we need him.” “No, Cas, we don’t.”

I explained this show to my Eldest (twin) 10-year-old as, “A show where three man-shaped beings take turns being the one to do the stupid thing, not tell the others, and they spend the season trying to fix it before trading places.”

Funny enough, kid understood right away.

“We need him to save Dean.” “You can’t time travel.”

Duh! I have been screaming this at the screen since the beginning of the episode. Castiel lost a lot of stuff in the Fall. He still has his Grace, but not his wings. Not other things.

“Dean. That’s not Cas.”

Nope. But damn Collins is doing a masterful representation of Mark Pellegrino, here. I mean, the mannerisms, the expressions, the physicality—I don’t see a trace of Castiel in it.

And I don’t see someone doing an impersonation or something frivolous. No, this is an incredible ode to the other performer that you rarely see executed at such a precise level.

I’ve heard the same interviews we’ve all heard, where Collins asked Pellegrino for pointers and was told Lucifer always looked at people deciding whether to fuck them or kill them. It works.

Casifer’s a menace, but the Winchesters learned a thing or two from Castiel, including how to blast away an Angel. Fuck off, Casifer!

Oh, but look at Dean’s face. He’s gutted. Absolutely gutted. He lost Cas, again, and the mission was a bust. There’s no win, here. Just devastation.

“Cas.” “Yeah. Yeah, what do we do?” “What else? We hunt Lucifer, trap the bastard, and save Cas.” “Like I said, Lucifer may be in control, now, but Cas may not come back willingly. I mean, he chose it.” “No. No. Not possible.”

This whole scene kills me. Because Dean doesn’t think Cas would put himself in this position, that he would do something this monumentally unsound just to try to save them.

But he would, Dean. Again and again and again.

Dean looks off, away, thoughts reeling. He can’t wrap his mind around what happened, around the fact that everything he said to Cas since they got out of the cage was actually to Lucifer. And he’s so pissed at himself for not figuring it out.

Cas is his person. He is.

And Dean just lost him again. He can’t believe Cas would choose something like that again. Surely by now he knows how much he means to them? To Dean? Right!?

Like, Castiel can’t possibly see himself as disposable? As weak? As not enough?

But, he does. Castiel’s feelings of doubt and fear make him an easy target. He has no home, not really.

He wants to belong with the Winchesters, but too often feels more burden than help, especially after everything that happened with Rowena’s spell.

Dean has to wonder if he pushed Cas too fast to get back in the game, if there’s anything he could have done differently that would have kept him from making such a mad decision.

Castiel doesn’t know his worth. So much like Dean, in that. Neither knows how much they mean to the other. And now Dean is steadfastly avoiding a reality in his mind where he doesn’t get his Angel back.

S11E15 -

“He made a bad decision. We’ve been there.” “Yeah. You, me, now Cas.”

Honey, your boyfriend has made a lot more bad decisions than this one. But, yes, it is his turn this season to the be one without a braincell.

“Dean, we’ll get him back. We will. We just got to-” “Keep grinding. No matter how much it hurts, no matter how hard it gets, we gotta keep grinding.” “Right.” “And thats how we’re gonna win. And we’re gonna win. We’re gonna save Cas, we’re gonna ice the devil, and we’re gonna shank the Darkness. And anyone that gets in our way, well God help them.”

Priorities on display. But, also, I love the supportive brother-in-law.

Because Sam knows that Cas and Dean have something entirely different from what he and Cas have. He does love Cas as family. He trusts Cas.

But he can see that Dean and Cas are more. Even if Dean can’t see it, Sam does. He knows that Dean needs more reassurance about Cas than he does because that “profound bond” has always been there and always will be.

S11E17 -

“After everything we survived together, I watched the man I loved die. There’s no normal after that.”

Okay, is this a Sam/Dean thing or a Destiel thing? I don’t know, but Ackles’ performance here is crazy because he just disappears from the moment with her and he’s somewhere else entirely.

Yes, losing his brother is losing his world. But, she’s talking about a romantic relationship. So, that doesn’t quite play.

One of those things I wish I could ask someone about, because taking a stab at interpreting it feels too nebulous, even for me!

S11E18 -

“I will give you the horn if you help me exorcize Lucifer from Castiel’s vessel and then return him immediately to the cage.”

Fascinating fact—the subtitles use the English UK version of “exorcise” which made me pause, for a second, thinking I’d done something wrong. We’re good.

“After we exorcize Lucifer out of Cas and put him in a new vessel.” “What? Really?” “Yes, really.”

I love how Crowley just walks away from this situation. But, still interesting that Sam’s the one not seeing the idealistic view of this situation.

“We’re not gonna send Lucifer into battle inside Case. What if he doesn’t make it?” … “I’m guessing it can hold Lucifer." “It? It’s not an it, Sam, it’s Cas.” And Cas wanted to do this.” “Yeah, well there’s times I want to get slapped during sex by a girl wearing a Zoro mask. That don’t make it a good idea.” “Dean, this is exactly how we screw ourselves. We make the heart choice instead of the smart choice.”

Um… Sammy, are you trying not to say “love”? Because, it kinda feels like you’re trying really hard not to connect your brother and that word.

But that’s what this is—an act of Love. Castiel is trying to save those he loves doing what he thinks must be done. And Dean is trying to save Castiel before he loses him forever.

Yes, it’s the “heart choice” because Cas is Dean’s person.

Look, I don’t need to see them fuck or cuddle or even hold hands to know they’re an item. I remember the Aziracrow fandom going through it a few years back when Crowley (pronounced croh-lee) and Aziraphale finally locked lips.

Folks flocked to the inter webs protesting the show “making them gay”. Oh, honeys. The book was published in 1990 where not only were they referred to as “consenting”, a then-well-known slang for gay in the UK, but Aziraphale’s intro said people thought he was “gayer than a tree full of monkeys on nitrous oxide”.

And yet, the kiss was what made them “gay”.

The thing about queer love that I personally love is that its up to the people in it to decide what their relationship looks like. All you have to know is that it’s outside heteronormative rules, and there you go.

Some people like labels. Some don’t.

And whatever they are, Dean and Cas are each other’s person in this world, even if they’re not quite aware of it—Castiel because of his fear. Dean because of his baffling cluelessness.

“Oh, okay. Thank you, Dr Phil. Cas is family.” “Yes, and his choice deserves to be respected.” “Even if it kills him?”

And that’s the crux of it—Dean doesn’t want to lose Cas. Look, he’ll fight tooth and nail for his brother, and that’s understood. They’ve been codependent since childhood—especially Dean.

But Cas is something entirely different for Dean. He doesn’t have the words, yet, and maybe he never will. But it’s apparent to everyone involved that Dean’s more emotionally invested in Cas’ fate than the rest of them.

Crowley’s the one to go in to talk to Castiel.

“Wait, that was Dean I saw a minute ago, wasn’t it?” “Yes.” “And he wants me to expel Lucifer?” “Well, he may have a more objective view of the situation. Maybe I should.”

Cas is completely brainwashed and looks like one of those After School Specials that warned us about the perils of sitting too close to the television. I mean, there’s even bunny ears!

“Maybe Cas isn’t willing to play ball. I mean, you said it yourself—he wanted this. … Come on, Cas, what the hell?”

There’s no fight in there.

“Lucifer’s hold on him is too strong.”

Well, at least Crowley got to tell them that.

“Cas?”

It’s amazing how a single syllable—one word—can be so significant, yet so seemingly insignificant. Look how Amara reacts to Dean’s outburst—to the pleading in his eyes.

Because when Dean’s around her, he’s not always in control. But his love for Cas breaks through. It breaks through her usual allure, and she clocks that. Fast.

“Listen, um, I know I came down on the side of wanting Cas to deal with Amara, so…” “Well, thats what he wanted though, right? Besides, didn’t we say that we were gonna swear off getting in the way when one person makes a choice the other doesn’t agree with?” “Yeah. Um, yeah, we did say that.” “So…” “Okay, so that’s our policy.”

Dean’s masking. Because this still hurts like hell.

“Well, let’s go find that idiot and bring him home.”

Ah, there he is. There’s that optimism. I mean, yes, calling him names, but also determined to bring him home.

S11E19 -

“Dean, we'll find Cas, okay? He’s stronger than he looks.” “You know, we gambled with Cas and now Amara has him.” “For a reason. Which means he’s still alive.” … “The small fries, even an Angel like Cas, doesn’t even register. And if it meant hurting Lucifer, killing Cas would mean nothing to her.”

But it means everything to you, Dean. Because if you have Cas and Sam, you’re stable. You can keep going. But take either one of them away, and you’re a fucking wreck.

You may not fully realize why, yet, but you know you can’t lose Cas. Not again. Not now.

“So, we get back out there. We keep working. We keep moving. We’ll catch a break on Cas. We have to. It’s… it’s Karma.” “You know, Karma’s been kicking us in the teeth lately.”

Insane that Sam is the one trying to get Dean to stop reading books and get back to work. That’s how deep Dean’s love for Cas is.

A season earlier, it was everything Dean could do to keep moving. He was hurting bad with the Mark, but working was how he tried to cope.

With Cas in the wind, it’s not the same. It’s not an ache he can work through.

It’s a piercing, constant, targeted pain he can’t place and can’t ignore. Nothing soothes it, but trying to do something to help Cas makes it feel worth it. Worth the pain.

S11E20 -

“Whatever Amara’s doing to Lucifer.” “Yeah, beating on Cas in the meantime.”

Dean’s ready to take on Amara, but since he lost Cas, there’s always that “and”. He’s going to take down Amara and he’s going to save his Angel.

S11E21 -

In a move that is nothing short of insane someone wrote a storyline where Amara uses Castiel to connect with Dean. Like, I know I talk a lot about their cord of connection, but Amara is literally putting it in use!

I feel so justified in writing that all this time, now.

“Say nothing of the Vessel, your friend, Castiel.”

And the bitch shows him Castiel’s vessel, battered and broken. She’s using this to get her way. Nothing else has worked, right? So, try the Cas angle, I guess.

“We gotta find Lucifer before it’s too late.” “Too late?” … “She just showed up. But she’s showing me visions of Lucifer. And by Lucifer, I mean Cas, and he looks like crap. Like she’s really doing a number on him.”

Because that is what really concerns him. It’s not about Lucifer. It’s about stopping Amara and getting his friend back.

Why are these women so cringe, by the way? Amara’s come-ons to Dean are so gross, and I’m so glad he’s fighting back against her bullshit manipulation.

This isn’t love, Dean. If you don’t get to choose it, then it’s just not love. She’s a manipulative bitch with a tie to you because you unlocked a lock and now she thinks she has ownership of you. Fuck that.

“You’re right. I am drawn to you. And it bothers the hell out of me, cause I can’t control it.” “Then why fight it.”

Because that’s what “free will” is about, bitch. This entire show is about Dean Winchester and his little brother fighting against their destinies or whatever.

“Something stops you. Keeps you from having it all.”

Dean looks away. He’s fighting. And when she finds out Dean spoke with God—who sought him out—she reads it as betrayal. No, Darkness, that is not love. You can’t fathom love. You don’t understand free will.

Dean will never love you, much as you attempt to ensnare him.

S11E22 -

“Perhaps you’ll lend an ear to my very own Jiminy Cricket?”

And, of course, they can see the shift in Angels. And we see the shift in characters. Collins takes us from one to the other so damn beautifully.

Yes, I know this has zero to do with Destiel. But it’s beautiful and Ackles will get his due with the Michael arc, just wait!

“You know, every second that Ive spent subordinating myself to Lucifer, it’s been a torment. It’s destroying me. It’s burning through my vessel. But I would do it all over again because through me, he and God, they will defeat the Darkness. That’s my role in this fight. It’s God’s fight. You can play a part in that fight, too, if you join me.”

Cas was always good for a rousing speech. And, the reminder of the sacrifice—Jimmy Novak is a strong vessel, but every vessel is a temporary one when it comes to Lucifer.

“Oh, don’t worry. Your pet’s safety is my highest concern. Trust me, he’s onboard.”

Crowley’s face during this exchange is marvelous. He’s absolutely trying not to laugh aloud because everyone in this room is well aware of how Dean feels about Cas.

Now, some of them are saying it aloud, while others cough Sam cough are pretending not to notice. I mean, Sam seems like the kind of guy who wouldn’t out someone—even to themselves!

“First Cas is making Kamizaze side plans and now you?”

It’s never easy on Dean relying on the others, letting them do things their way. Doesn’t mean it’s gonna work out any better, but he is trying to let Sam take the lead, here.

S11E23 -

Dean puts a hand on Casifer’s shoulder to wake him. He starts to let it slide off, but when the being opens its eyes and looks upon Dean, it’s not Lucifer staring back out.

“Dean.” “Cas?”

Dean places the hand back on Cas’ shoulder, holding on this time.

“Hey, Is that you?!” “Lucifer is gone.”

Watch Dean here. Just… watch him. Take a moment away from worrying about waves hands the state of the bloody world and just watch the acting choice Ackles makes, here.

There’s such relief in knowing that Castiel is back that Lucifer is gone. In the midst of the horrors, there’s something to hold onto, again—Cas.

Because, when you’re in the thick of a shitty situation, where you can’t fix all the things in the world, you need little things—a favorite drink, a comfort television show, to hear the voice of someone you love.

Ackles puts such relief into that minute choice. His body shifts. His lips quirk into an almost-smile. You can feel a weight lifting off of him.

“Amara ripped him from my body.” “To where?”

There is no reason for that hand to still be on Cas’ shoulder Dean… we see you, Dean. And we love you for it.

“So that was a gun in your pocket.”

I’m sorry, but this is one time where Collins pulls focus. And it’s hilarious. I mean, he is out-of-focus and I’m still eating up his reaction to this because he isn’t looking at Rowena, he’s looking at Dean’s exasperated expression and wondering why he’s giving it.

Guess there’s still some slang and pop culture that’s out of Cas’ new understanding.

“Well, that was a complete and utter dog’s breakfast, wasn’t it?” “I didn’t know dogs had breakfast.” “Cas is back.”

Yeah, Dean. We noticed.

“Sometimes, me and Sam, we got so much going on that we forget about everyone else.”

Translation = I was taking you for granted… and I see that, now. And I don’t want you to feel that. I don’t want to do that anymore. I want to treat you better and appreciate you while you are here.

“You’re the best friend we’ve ever had. You’re our brother, Cas. I want you to know that.” “Thank you.”

Bro-zoned by the love of your life. Ouch, Cas, ouch. We all felt that one. Like the collective groan throughout the world was probably so loud it caused a tremble in the Earth’s crust.

Dean nearly lost Cas, and now he’s contemplative, and he’s saying things he needs to say. He needs Cas to know they are family. He doesn’t have a better word than that.

He still can’t wrap his mind around what they are. The closest thing Dean can reach for is family. But he totally bro-zones poor Cas. And if Cas isn’t completely sure he’s in love with Dean by now, he’s at least aware of it. It’s somewhere in there.

I mean, look at Cas’ face after Dean bro-zones him. He loves this poor bastard, and all he got for it is an invitation to the Family Reunion instead of an invitation to the Honeymoon Suite.

And Dean does love Cas in ways he’s never loved anyone else. Even if he won’t say it. Even if he doesn’t fully comprehend it. It’s there.

The thing about Dean is that he appreciates Cas more every time he loses him—whether to death or possession, it doesn’t matter. Whenever he thinks Cas might be gone for good, he recognizes how his feelings have shifted from the last time he lost him. They get stronger every time as his attachment to Cas grows.

He’s always late to the party, playing catch up to Cas' white-hot glow of love that deepens over the years. But it’s there, people. It’s there.

As Dean readies for his imminent demise, Cas goes in for a hug as flowers fall off the tree around them, blown by the wind. That is likely completely accidental, but it lends a beautiful ambiance to the moment.

Dean hugs Cas back, and while he says, “Okay, alright” his face says something else. He starts to get emotional. I mean, he just got Cas back again and now he’s the one to say goodbye.

“I could go with you.” “No, no no. No, I gotta do this alone.”

To the death. Cas was willing to go with Dean to the death so he wouldn’t have to do it, alone.

“Listen, if, when, when this works, Sam, he’s gonna be a mess. So look out for him, okay. Make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.” “Of course.” {Dean places a hand on his shoulder, again,} "Thank you for everything.”

Yup. “Of course” is Castiel’s “As You Wish”, his “I love you” when he can’t yet say it.

And Dean is entrusting Cas with the person most important to him—his little brother. He has spent his entire life watching out for that kid, and if he’s going to trust anyone to look after Sam, it’s going to be Cas.

“No chick flick moments, come on.” “Yeah, you love chick flicks.” “Yeah, you’re right. I do. Come here.”

Another one of those moments where I cringe at Dean’s upbringing and his heteronormative programming. Let Dean watch When Harry Met Sally, you cowards. With his best Angel. It’d be fucking adorable.

“He did it.” “He bloody did it.” “And Dean?”

Of course, it’s Cas. Of course he’s the one to say it. Sam can’t bring himself to say it. If the sun’s back, Dean’s gone, right? Right.

Or so they think. Dun, dun, DUN!!!

S12E01 -

“He’s a friend. Hey, Cas.” “Dean!”

They embrace, and it should be noted Dean was ready for that hug as much as Cas. I mean, he moves into that hug, even if Cas is the more ferocious in wrapping his arms around his person.

And it takes 0.5 seconds for Mom to clock that this is so much more than a “friend”. Look at that head tilt!

It’s okay, Mommy Winchester. Your boy found a good life partner.

Dean might lightly protest, but he lingers in that hug. He gives Cas a second to process and them both a chance to celebrate surviving the end… again.

“Dean. You're alive!?”

They pull apart, but don’t give each other much space. We are long past Dean worrying about personal space with Cas.

“This is Castiel.”

Castiel’s side eye makes me laugh every time. My 7-year-old daughter made me replay it over and over, because she thought it was funny, too. Because Castiel isn’t used to Dean Winchester introducing him by his full name.

I mean, this fully gives off “Introducing the boyfriend/girlfriend/theyfriend to Mom.” And, bonus, this is Dean’s mom.

“That’s an Angel?”

Cas as the muscle of the operation is a nice reminder of how capable he is when he has all his Grace.

He’s a badass, Angel warrior. And much as he thought he was super weak and super dispensable in Season 11, after all of that, he’s got new strength.

At the little roadside stand looking fun, Mary is a bit overwhelmed. And Cas is trying to be comforting. He sees the struggle in Mary, her overwhelm.

Oh, and those two coffees Castiel was carrying? He gave one to Mary, but the other was for Dean. Another act of service from our little Angel.

Season 12 is one of my favorites in terms of forward progression of the Destiel relationship. Castiel does go off the rails a bit at the end, but that’s kinda expected by now. One of them is gonna do it every season.

S12E02 -

“I understand. I’ll call you in the morning.” “Cas, hey.”

Cas is about to hang up and let Dean get his four hours of sleep, but Dean is actively seeking advice from Cas about his mother.

And, like, Dean, honey. Your Angel never had a mother, let alone one who came back from the dead after missing your entire childhood.

Like, Amara tried to do a nice thing for Dean, but it kinda fucks up the world even more. Kinda the theme of the show, right?

But I do like that Dean is asking Cas for advice and opening up to him… even if it goes nowhere.

“Powerfully warded. Okay, see, buddy, that was your headline, right there.” “Are we still discussing the same thing?” “Where are you?”

Aww, he confused the little Angel. I know that’s kinda their thing, but Cas is improving at the investigative stuff, and I do like that he gets that arc.

I mean, when he solves that case in S15 and goes back to the Winchesters after he and Dean divorced, it feels like he realized how much he could learn, how much he could overcome, how he is still useful, Angel power or none.

Also, how ridiculous are Cas and Dean trying to hold Mama Winchester back? And Cas even knows how stupid his request is, but goes along with it because Dean asks.

And the fact that Dean asks with a look makes me warm and fuzzy inside. I’ve always been a fan of their ability to talk without talking. That started early in the relationship, and I’m always giddy when it makes an appearance.

“I powered down all the wardings in this shack so your attack dog could come in.”

Dean looks to Cas on this and Cas is already looking back at him. I do like Cas getting to be a bit of the muscle for a while, Angel powers and all. Might as well use them sometimes, loves!

S12E03 -

“Castiel. What are you doing up?” “Oh, I’m always up. Angels don’t need sleep.”

Dean really needs to talk to his mom more about his Situationship. I mean, she has a lot to learn about him, but I think she’s already getting a good idea of the guy.

“Castiel, after you left heaven, when did it start to feel like, like you fit, like you belonged here?” “Well I’m still not sure I do. … Mary. You do belong here.” “Goodnight, Castiel.”

Okay, she likes her boy’s situationship. Very much.

“If it is him, I will call you. In the meantime, I think you’re needed here.”

Look at Cas trying to get them to address the Mom issue. That’s growth for Cas understanding humanity! He clearly can see the troubles going on within Mary and he’s trying to help Dean—who sucks at emotions—work through it.

When it comes to bullets and bloodshed, Dean knows the only way is through. When it comes to emotions, he bottles up, buttons down, and disappears into his head.

S12E04 -

“Bad news?” “Cas is chumming it up with Crowley. They’re hunting Lucifer together. That’s right. One’s an angel. One’s a demon, and apparently they solve crimes.”

Welp, at least he told you this time, right?! Seriously, Season 12 Dean and Cas are communicating, and I kinda love it.

S12E05 -

“Nazis. I hate these guys.”

I pumped my fists in the air at this line, y’all. It doesn’t have jack shit to do with Destiel, but I knew the moment I heard it I had to mention it. Fuck, yeah!

S12E06 -

“Are you a romcom chick?” “Are you?”

Hey, Sammy said he was! You can be more than one kind of person, Dean-o. You have such a binary, boxed-in way of looking at the world that you can’t even see it!

S12E07 -

“You consider switching up your duds here? Bit stiff for this town.” “He could be an agent or something.” “Yeah, maybe a third tier agent.” “At least I don’t look like a lumberjack.”

Ah, yes, the bitchy bickering of totally straight people.

I mean, Dean’s reaction is hilarious. Ackles is always good when it comes to a good reaction shot, but the ones where he and Collins are feeding off of one another particularly land.

In this case, Collins is the straight man and Ackles brings that laugh home. It’s a lovely rhythm, and I like when the Writers take advantage of it this way.

“Well, the only way you clear that crowd without drawing fire is if he’s otherwise engaged.” “Engaged in what, Cas? Killing you?” “Cas, you’ll last three minutes. Tops.” “Then I’ll buy you three minutes.” “Make it four. What? I help.”

Not much of a goodbye here, right? I guess Dean must’ve thought they were all going to be just fine, or he felt he and Cas were cool enough that if they went out this way, so be it.

Because, let’s be real, if Cas bit the dust, here, he’d be a mess.

“I wouldn’t expect you to understand. I was inside you. I know what a weak, duty-bound, pleasureless dullard you are.”

Hey, fuck you, buddy! It’s a running theme that the one thing all Angels can agree on is putting Castiel down. Any of y’all notice? All of them try to tell him how weak he is and dull he is.

Maybe they’re just jealous God keeps bringing Cas back and leaving the rest of them drooling on the floor of the Empty. I dunno.

“How you feeling?” “I’m not dead.”

Oh, Cas. Never change.

“Vince Vincente is dead.” “We never even hoped to save him.”

Wow, these two are in reversal from last season. When Casifer was roaming the Earth, it was Dean’s hope to vacate Lucifer before he faced Amara—to protect Cas. He was intent on saving Castiel.

This time, he’s on the “Yeah, we didn’t have a hope” side of the argument. Because that was Cas and he couldn’t risk losing him.

And, Dean, my dear, any clue why that might be? Nope. Not yet. Maybe after Cas dies a couple more times…

S12E8 -

Cas drops the coffee cups—the cups he grabbed for Dean and Sam. Another little act of service.

The boys rush in, and Dean is the first to reach Cas, grabbing onto his arm and back. Dean releases the hand on the arm, but keeps the one on his back, even as Cas tells them what’s going on. Dean doesn’t pull his arm away until Cas straightens.

“Alright. Stay here. We got this.”

Dean tries to get Cas to stay in the car, but as soon as he sees something’s going down, he’s on his feet and ready to fight.

“Cas, don’t.”

Cas is ready to take on the world for Dean Winchester. But, he stands down for the very same reason. There were times Dean begged him to stop, he didn’t, and the world and Heaven suffered.

So, while he’ll fight back when he thinks Dean’s being a dick, this time, he listens.

Oh! And love the detail that when everyone else ducks for cover, Cas just sorta stands there and goes, “huh”.

Also, the dude from Dear Santa!? I always thought he was a talented lad. Good for him landing a recurring role on a killer show!

“Who are you people?” “Well, dear. I’m a witch. He’s an Angel.” “And I’m the King of Hell.” “Oh, God.” “No, actually, he left.”

This little sequence of dialogue is amazing. It’s perfectly delivered, shot, edited, and still makes me giggle when I watch it, even though I’ve watched it a million times and committed it to memory.

Also, I love how Cas and Dean work wordlessly together, here. Cas gets the Bible and Dean sees where this is going, so he’s ready with the bin and the water. They’re really working well without words this season.

Oh, how far they’ve come!

S12E09 -

“You left them.” “Dean told me to go…”

I had to delete what I originally wrote because I realized I might have been channeling some of my own abandonment issues a bit too aggressively the first time around.

Let’s just say Mother Mary attacking Cas when she’s the one who left her kids because she missed the babies they once were didn’t sit well with me.

“If they needed help, why didn’t they call me?” “You were out.”

This.

“How do we let this happen, Castiel?”

We!? I’m sorry, we!? Castiel has been there with your boys, helping them. Working with them. Trying to work through all the shit the Universe throws at them. While she was off doing her own thing.

You are not in the same league, lady. So, stop taking your frustration at yourself and your own damn issues extend to Cas.

“I just wanted to say… I’m sorry.”

It’s a start. But you’re still on my shit list.

“They’ve only been gone-” “Six weeks, two days, and ten hours.”

See? Castiel knows it to the minute and you’re over here berating him when he’s been trying to find them, aching without Dean and worried for Sam.

Maybe it’s the first time she realizes just how much Cas cares because you can see the look in her eyes as this hits her.

“We’ll find them, Castiel. We will.”

Ah, yes, last season it was Sam comforting Dean about Cas. Now, it’s Mary comforting Cas about Dean.

And we’re supposed to ignore the parallels and pretend Destiel is a part of our imaginations. Yeah, right!

And then Castiel talks about the case he tried to work solo, the case he couldn’t solve, and how he ended up running away because he thought he wasn’t good enough to take care of it. Even when Mary offers to help, he answers, resigned:

“I’d only get in your way.”

He’s trying to “carry on” (thank you Kansas) for the boys. To do what they do. But he’s not quite there, yet, and it’s only making him feel worse.

“Cas.” “Dean?” “Hey, buddy, long time.” “What- what happened? Where are you?”

Look at the little Angel’s face. He’s so relieved to hear the voice of his love, again.

“Hey, buddy.”

Hugging is so natural by this point. But the way the camera hangs on Cas as he watches the Winchesters—mom and sons—reunite is telling.

He’s still on the outside here a bit, isn’t he? Much as he loves them. Much as he wants to protect them. He knows he’s not one of them.

“Cas, what have you done?”

Like any of y’all was gonna let one of the others take the fall. You’re Winchesters. You’re the “never give up” humans who keep Chuck entertained and baffle the rest of the supernatural world.

“You know this world, this sad, doomed little world, it needs you. It needs every last Winchester it can get and I will not let you die. I won’t let any of you die. And I won’t let you sacrifice themselves. You mean to much to me. To everything.”

Yup. This is the episode for Mary to realize just how much Castiel means to them. How much they mean to him. He’s an Angel who defied Heaven, who fell, who chose the Winchesters again and again and again.

But Mary knows nothing of that. She hasn’t witnessed it and she didn’t stick around long enough for her kid to learn it.

This episode shows her the bond her boys have with their feathered friend.

“Yeah, you made a deal. You made a stupid deal and I broke it. You’re welcome.”

The Winchesters are too damned shocked to berate him. Yes, Castiel has done some crazy, unhinged things for them in the past. But this is probably the craziest, at least to Dean and Sam.

As far as Mama Mary knows, this is an average Thursday.

S12E10 -

“You talk to Cas, yet?” “No.” “So, you’re just gonna keep walking past each other in the kitchen not saying a word?” “Maybe.”

Oh my gosh, these two are so married. And because make-up sex isn’t on the table at this point, they’re going to have to take the long way around to talking to one another, again.

“I’m not pissed that he… cares about us. You know. I’m grateful.”

Can’t say that Cas loves you, can you? I mean it. “Love” is a big and nebulous thing for Dean, no matter what shape or size it comes in.

If you’re not friend, family, or fuck-buddy, he doesn’t know what the hell to do with ya.

“My point is, Cas thought he was doing the right thing.” “I was doing the right thing.” “You sure about that?” “Yes.” “Well, I’m not so sure.” “And when the other shoe drops?” “I’ll deal with it.”

Seriously, they are so married and Sam’s trying to play intermediary to get his brother and brother-in-law to stop fighting.

Also, we’ve talked before about how Dean doesn’t mind being the one to die. He’d much rather it be him than anyone else he loves. And when those Cosmic Consequences drop, he doesn’t know which one of ’em it’ll drop on.

He has zero control, and he hates that position.

But soon enough, Cas’ll find the positions he likes.

I’m sorry! I’m so sorry. It just popped in my head, and then it tapped itself into the laptop and now it’s there. So, I can’t delete it on principle.

“Got a lead on Kelly?” “No, this is personal.” “Meaning what?”

I love that Dean wants to know. Like, he’s still fully invested in Cas even if he’s angry at him.

Wanna punch my boyfriend but pooky’s going out and not telling me why and I don’t like that, either.

Yeah, these two are totally married in S12.

“We’ll come with you.” “Both of you?” “Sure. Yeah, we could help. Gotta make sure you don’t do anything else stupid.”

Cas rolls his eyes, but Sam’s reaction makes me laugh the hardest. It’s like, “You were so close to getting through that without insulting your spouse, again”.

It’s Dean, Sam. Part of working relationships is working on them, communicating, sharing feelings and emotions.

He’s a walking advertisement for therapy and early intervention. You aren’t going to change that with a withering stare.

They ride in silence, which is weirding Sam out because the tension is thick. He tries the radio, but Dean doesn’t want it. He’d rather stew. And Cas stews with him.

Because this plays into one of the funniest and most consistent push/pulls between these two—Dean’s determination to sacrifice himself and Cas’ mission to protect him. And, yes, we know this goes both ways.

Kinda like Dean, am I right!?

ahem

“Alright, guys, you know what? This silent treatment thing, it’s silly. Its not gonna work. Whatever we’re walking into, we should, you know, probably have an actual plan.” “What do you want to know? “Oh, he speaks.” “Enough.”

This is so the couple in your life are arguing and you’re trying to get them to calm the fuck down. Also, Cas’ little glare at the back of Dean’s head is not helping the implied domestic squabble vibe of this scene. Just sayin’.

“Wow. This Benjamin seems like he’s pretty cool. Like he wouldn’t make any half-cocked, knee-jerk choices.” “Yeah, you know what I like about him is that he is sarcastic, but he’s thoughtful and appreciative, too.” “Now, what is that supposed to mean?”

Oh. My. Gosh. These two are totally married.

Dean has actually turned around in his seat to face Cas, completely ignoring the road. And neither of them is backing down. Poor Sam has to be the voice of reason.

And the camera swoop!? Normally we get the camera swoop between these two when Cas appears behind him or when Cas is there as backup. It’s often something that brings us comfort because of its familiarity.

This time, we’re breaking the convention because these two are in each other’s faces even if one’s in the backseat. They’re still connected by that blasted cord, even though right now they’d rather be annoyed with one another.

This isn’t brotherly, y’all. We have Sam and Dean to give us plenty of reference points for how Dean argues with a brother. This is something else and Dean doesn’t even see it.

They even added a horn sound to show that Dean’s driving is making others nervous outside the car. Bro, stop focusing on your argument with an Angel and keep your eyes on the road.

“She’s… his… friend.”

Sam, this is a wild choice. Like, “Lover” or something else more affectionate is right there, and if any Winchester would reach for it, it would be you. But you went with “Friend” which is technically what both of you call the Angel.

“Ishim said to come alone. He doesn’t like humans. If I plan to do anything else stupid, I’ll let you know.”

This is so bitchy. I love it. More, please.

Cas is looking past Dean so Dean knows without the shady of a doubt that this is for him. It’s catty and it’s direct, and I freakin’ love it. Dean needs a bit of this, sometimes.

“So, is he a hero? Is he a spanner in the works? I don’t know.”

Alright, you can fuck right off, Ishim.

“And you’re gonna storm in riiiiiiiiiight now.”

Dean is pacing outside the restaurant. He doesn’t like this one bit.

“Hey.” {Dean offers a bit of a shit-eating grin} “Dean.” “Feel a little left out over there.”

Cas doesn’t say anything to Sam, because he knows this isn’t Sam’s idea. Sam’s just along for the ride, on this one, as Dean determinedly tries to smash them all into a single booth, practically sitting in Castiel’s lap.

And before Dean’s even sat down, Ishim clocked it. Because Dean is zeroed in on Cas, and Castiel only chides Dean.

No doubt, since they know who the Winchesters are, they’ve heard legend of Destiel. I mean, almost every demonic or celestial being they come into contact with has some understanding of what’s going on, here, even if it’s not the complete picture.

“These are my friends. My friends who don’t listen very well.”

Dean almost looks proud with that little smirk and glance over. Jackass.

“You know, when I knew Castiel, he was a soldier. He was a warrior. He was an Angel’s Angel. Now, look how far he’s fallen.” “How about a little coffee with that sugar?”

Ishim’s been talking shit to Cas the whole time, but Dean doesn’t know that. All he knows is that he rolls up in here to see what’s going down and finds some dick Angel talking down to his Angel. It pisses him off.

And Ishim’s making mental note of it. He’s building the narrative in his head.

He sees in Cas and Dean him and Lily Sunder, for better or worse. But, he sees it—Castiel’s human weakness isn’t humanity. It’s Dean.

Only difference is that in this case, it’s love rather than obsession on Castiel’s part, and—though he won’t realize it until way too late—Dean has loved Cas for years.

No, I’m not going to get into what kind of love right now because it doesn’t matter. But Dean Winchester loves Cas in a way he loves nobody else. That’s just a fact.

And Ishim sees he’s pushed the right button. He glances from Dean to Cas and starts in on another round of insults.

“No wings. No home. Just a ratty old coat and a pair of poorly trained monkeys.” “Oh, well, you can go to Hell.” {Ishim smiles}

Ishim is poking at the pain points. He has his suspicions, but he wants confirmation. And he likes being a dick.

Dean glares at this fucker the whole time (until he mentions pie). Anything he was feeling toward Cas on the way here is melting away because Defender Dean is activated.

“Why do you let him talk to you like that? … I get that we need Super Dick there, but, I mean, come on.” “The Angels that I served with are being killed, so I will put up with Ishim, I will put up with everything else, and so will you. I have to go.”

This is so couple-coded. Like, “Honey, yes that asshole at the company Christmas party was sexist, but I need to make partner before I take him to HR”.

“You don’t owe them an explanation.” “Okay, hang on now. Uh, one eyed willy back there wasn’t trying to kill us. She was after you, so talk before she kicks in the damn door.”

It’s that “Choose Castiel, them or us” and it’s always really Dean. It’s about Dean. And Castiel will always choose Dean.

“They won’t understand.” “Cas, what’s going on?”

They even did the camera swoop from Ishim to Dean. It’s always going to be Dean. Give it a rest, Ishim.

“We’ll find her. Me and Sam.” “No, Dean.” “Cas, she doesn’t care about us, okay?”

Everything else from earlier has melted away. No, it’s not forgotten, but as long as there’s some magic-wielding, badass bitch with a blade gunning for his Angel, Dean’s going to put that shit to the side and charge into battle.

Or… a plea for mercy, as the case may be.

“Are you saying that those angels deserved to die? You think I deserve to die?” “No. No. That’s not what he’s saying.” “What is he saying?”

Have you ever had to be the translator for someone you love? Because while Sam cares about Cas, Dean knows him better than anyone. Anyone.

And so Dean sees Cas’ confusion and tries to help clarify, to calm him, to help him understand.

“We have to try.” “That’s right. And we’re not askin’.”

I mean, since you were roped into this, you’ve inserted yourself (I’m restraining here, friends, but it is not easy) everywhere Cas didn’t want you.

Damnit. It still came out wrong.

But, yeah, I’m not surprised that Dean “ask questions later” Winchester is going to help Cas whether he wants it or not.

Side Note: Hey, I found his middle name, at last!

“They’re a danger to us, case in point.” “Well my friendship with Sam and Dean has made me stronger.” “You can’t really believe that.”

Yes, he can, dipshit. Love and friendship and community always make us stronger. And that kind of strength isn’t something a bullish bastard with bad manners like you could ever understand.

“See, Cas is our family. So we can’t let you hurt him.”

Dean comes for Cas and immediately notes how worn and tired he is. He sits down on the couch next to Cas, but his positioning is already protective. He has a hand on the couch near Cas’s shoulder, and his positioning shields Cas.

“I think Ishim… I think he’s playing you.”

This is language Dean won’t use lightly. They used it before with the Angel who possessed Sam and Metatron fooling Cas. When they get played, it goes bad.

Dean helps Castiel to stand. Cas doesn’t have to ask. Dean’s there for him without him needing to ask when they’re actually on the same page.

“Who are you gonna believe? Your brother? Or some filthy ape who’s always talking down to you. Always mocking you?”

No, that would be you, feathers-for-brains.

“You know, Cas and I might not agree all the time, but at least he knows who his real friends are.”

I find the continued use of the two-shot of Cas and Dean here fascinating.

We’re racking focus between them based on what the coverage needs, but it lends a very “us vs you” quality to the scene, very clearly delineating that there’s no conflict for Cas—he didn’t need to be asked to choose this time.

It’s always going to be Dean.

“Who is he to question my choices? Who is he to question yours?” “Well, it seems that some of my choices may need to be questioned.

Growth. Because back in Season 6, Castiel was so convinced he was doing the right thing that even when Dean begged him to see otherwise, he couldn’t. Now, we see it’s an Angel problem.

And it’s another way where Castiel has stepped closer to Humanity. Not just in keeping company with the Winchesters, but in the way he thinks and the way he lives.

Castiel is presently neither Human or entirely Angel, but his own blend of two opposing forces made one through chemistry and devotion.

In short: Love changes us.

Not just romantic love, to be clear. All love changes us.

I still remember my first grade teacher. We recently reconnected on Facebook 34 years later (ugh, I’m old). I used to stay the night at her house and she taught me to make clay beads, paper mache face masks, to garden, to look at the stars and moon through a telescope, to hike in the woods.

I’ve thought back on those days over and over during the years when thinking of how to raise my own children—of what I wanted them to experience differently from how I grew up.

I had one beautiful year knowing that woman, and her love helped shape how I love my children all these years later.

Never discount the power of love.

“I used to envy you, Castiel. You believe that? You survived Hell. You were chosen by God. But now look at you. You’re just sad and pathetically weak.” “So, now, I’m gonna help you. I’m gonna cure you of your human weakness same way I cured my own—by cutting it out.”

Yup. Ishim thinks Cas loves Dean. I mean, we knew this. But if Dean’s listening in any manner to this conversation while he’s making that sigil on the wall, he knows it, too.

Dean’s ready with the sigil, and it gives the schmuck pause. But, he points out very quickly that poor Castiel is injured, and Dean might want to think twice about that particular move.

Ishim is a technician at isolating weakness. He’s now using Dean’s against him.

“You held him for long enough.”

This isn’t remotely a Destiel moment, but it’s one of my favorites of the episode. Lily thinks Ishim is going to finish her off, but the injured Castiel is able to stand long enough to kill a fellow Angel right in front of her.

She knows they were in the same group of Angels—that Castiel was part of the team that killed her daughter. But here he is, taking out the Angel trying to kill her.

There’s such awe in her eyes, as she sees that everything Dean and Sam said about Castiel is true. He doesn’t feel like other Angels. What he and the Winchesters has is real.

He falls to his knees as she still watches him, struggling to wrestle with her desire for revenge and adjusting to what she just witnessed.

These humans were willing to attack Ishim to protect her and Castiel. And then Castiel was willing to kill one of his own because he knew it was the right thing in the moment.

It’s hard when something rocks your reality. Dean will experience that in S15E18. But that’s a story for another time.

“He’s dead. Are you done?” “Revenge is all I’ve had for over 100 years. It’s all I am.” “Wrong answer. You’re done.”

OOoh, the parallels!! The parallels! Who else do we know who thinks that all they are is something dark and twisted?

“Dean.”

Dean says nothing, but acknowledges Cas. He doesn’t see the side-eye Cas casts him, but Lily does. She looks back to Cas.

“I’m sorry. I was wrong. And while its true that I didn’t know we were killing an innocent, ignorance is no excuse. I truly can’t imagine the depths of your loss.”

Castiel stands and walks within arm’s distance. He’s giving her plenty of space to stab him dead, right there.

It’s an important gesture—he’s offering himself up to pay for what he did. Yes, he didn’t know… but he still did the wrong thing. And he’s willing to pay the price.

“This was your child. I can’t imagine the pain. So if you leave here and you find that you can’t forgive me, I’ll be waiting. “Thank you.”

Lily has tears rolling down her cheeks. She said that every time she uses the Enochian magic, she burns more of her soul away. And right here, with his words, Castiel saves what’s left of this woman’s soul.

Because in him she sees what she’s never seen in an Angel before—remorse. Penance. The understanding that he was wrong and that being an Angel doesn’t absolve him from guilt or consequences.

And I’m thinking of S15E18—another time when Cas’ words heal what is broken. Yes, he’s a soldier. A warrior of God.

But the very things that make him different, the things that other Angels see as cracks and weaknesses—the things that make him more human—are the things that connect with us.

Love is what Ishim viewed as weakness. But love is what allowed Castiel to connect with Lily here, at the end. Love is what binds him to the Winchesters. And love will someday heal a profound brokenness in Dean.

At the start of this episode, Dean was annoyed with Cas—that his “caring” about them was going to get them in trouble. But, now they’ve gone through this whole episode where his ability to care is what saved the day.

Seriously, this is one of my favorite episodes not just because I’m a Destiel girly, but because of the way the themes, the characters, and their journeys are so effortlessly woven together.

“You earned it.” “This will do very little for me, but I appreciate the gesture.”

Dean pats his shoulder affectionately.

“What Ishim said, you’re not weak, Cas. You know that, right?” “I mean, obviously, you’ve changed, but it’s all been for the better, man.” “And you have been with us every step of this long, crazy thrill ride. And no matter how crazy it got, you never backed down.”

This reads as a lover checking in—making sure that his Angel knows how much he valued and doesn’t take the words of some asshole to heart.

“Cas, I don’t like how the whole Billie thing went down, okay? I know you thought you were doing the right thing. And I’m not mad. I’m worried. Because things like “cosmic consequences” have a habit of biting us in the ass.” “I know they do. But I don’t regret what I did, even if it costs me my life.”

They’re finally having a mature conversation about this. Because, let’s be honest, neither of them knows how to do this whatever it is.

Dean’s had some semi-long-term relationship stuff, yes. But not with someone who’s a part of their world and knows everything, I mean everything he’s done, good and bad. And Castiel’s an Angel shoe allegiances and alliances have determined whatever relationships he had.

Their relationship is something else that remains unnamed, to me. Like, I might comment on which labels seem to apply at a given moment in the story, but ultimately, I like that their relationship is theirs.

The Winchester parents were paired up by Cupid. God had a hand in ensuring their relationship. Destiel is the polar opposite of that—God didn’t see this one coming. And, frankly, I think it pisses him off.

From the moment he told Cas, “You’re not in this story” and Castiel said they were “Making it up as we go”, we knew that Dean and Cas are different. (Yes, Sam, too, but that’s not part of this particular point)

Castiel is a spanner in the works. And the Winchester boys are the most defiant of any universe—the ones who assert their free will time and time, again, despite Chuck’s best efforts.

Destiel doesn’t need labels to exist. Castiel loves Dean. Yes, we know it blossoms to a romantic love. And Dean loves Cas in a way he’s never loved another being. It just is.

But, I’m getting ahead of myself…

“So, what are you gonna do if you find Kelly and, uh, Lucifer Jr?” … “But, Cas, at the end of the day it’s a mom and her kid. I mean, do you think you’ll be able to…” “There’s a time when I wouldn’t have hesitated. But now, I don’t know.”

It’s not a great answer, but it’s an honest one. My Dad likes to say, “My favorite answer is ’I don’t know’ because then you can learn something new. You can figure it out, research, seek knowledge. It’s a perfectly valid answer".

“So, what are we gonna do?”

We. Us. Maybe everything isn’t forgiven, but they aren’t going to pass wordlessly in the halls, anymore. They’re aligned, again.

Everything in this episode showed that no matter how pissed they get at one another, Dean and Cas find their way back. They always find their way back.

S12E11 -

“Look, we can figure this out, alright? Don’t go calling Mom or Cas with this.”

Dean knows precisely who Sam would have on speed dial when something goes sideways. The Mom and the Boyfriend.

Like, seriously, Dean’s emergency contact list is short, but it’s intimate.

“And, our best friend’s an Angel!”

Really? A handprint is what reminded you of that!? And seeing it’s a bloody handprint makes me all the more heartbroken thinking about S15E18. Ugh, now I’m sad, again.

“My name is Dean Winchester. Sam is my brother. Uh, Mary Winchester is my mom. And Cast- Cas is my best friend.”

These are the things he’s holding onto tightest—the people who matter most to him in the world. Sam. Mom. Cas. He’s trying so hard to hold on.

And, as someone whose Mother-in-Law is suffering from dementia and getting worse and worse, this was a hard episode to watch. Because while Dean got happy without the burdens, my MIL is angrier and harsher, and I’m the one who she’s cast as the villain.

It’s not uncommon with dementia patients, and it’s not my first time with a family member to go through this. But for my husband, it’s devastating. I might tell him to skip this episode when he starts watching the show, again.

Oh! Matt watched the first three seasons back in the day during the first-run. I caught some over his shoulder, then, but it didn’t really stick. Since I’ve been talking his ear off, he’s considering diving back in. I think he’d enjoy it!

S12E12 -

“And how ’bout you, handsome?”

The Winchesters are a little taken aback. But, c’mon, y’all, the blue eyes? The disheveled adorableness? There are women who would kill for a night with that.

And as I write it, I’m suddenly hoping all these boys have good security systems in their homes in real life. Because, yeah, stalkers are a real thing and after watching my mom go through it, I can say yikes.

Admire from afar, my friends. Admire from afar.

And Castiel orders something, even though he doesn’t eat. More than likely, one of the others is going to take the food from him to polish off after eating theirs.

“Oh, dude, she is into you.” “Dean.” “No, this is good. We’ve been looking for teachable moments.”

Bro, last time you thought a chick was into him he ended up babysitting. You might not be the best at guiding Cas through the dating world.

Plus, Mom’s trying to subtly get you to stop because she long ago clocked the Angel’s puppy dog eyes for you.

Also, this table conversation is mad reminding me of my favorite family dinner scene in the history of cinema—from While You Were Sleeping. Like, this feels so real and lived-in and earned.

It’s delightful, and I don’t know if it’s writing or directing or both that’s responsible, but I adore it.

“You look like hammered crap.” “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

Dean’s trying to keep it light, because that’s how he gets through all the shit of life. But as soon as he glimpses Cas’ stomach, he sees how bad it is. The Angel isn’t healing, and it’s only getting worse.

“Dean, something’s wrong. I can’t heal myself. I think the, I think the demon’s spear was poisoned. I don’t- I think I’m dying.”

Cue Ackles on that damn lip quiver. Seriously, man, are you trying to kill us? It’s sad enough the Angel’s dying and you need to add to the body count?

Try as he might to stay strong for Cas, he can see how bad it is, and calls Sam over.

“If you’re an Angel, you just rot away. Sorry, Castiel.” “No, no. There’s a cure. There’s always a cure, and we will find it.”

Damn your eternal optimism, Dean.

“Hey, I was growing fond of the choir boy, too.” “Shut up, shut up.”

Dean isn’t ready to say goodbye to Cas. No way. No how.

“Cas, how bad is it?” {Cas shows his chest, covered in lines} “Crowley’s right. You should go.” “Cas, come on.” “No, you listen to me. You, thank you. Thank you. Knowing you, it, it’s been the best part of my life.”

Cas is casting his eyes around to everyone. This isn’t the intimate goodbye of S15E18. He isn’t trying to single out Dean, even though it’s there. He’s saying goodbye to his family.

“The things we’ve shared together, they have changed me.”

He’s looking at Dean for this one, and the editing choices confirm it—this is for Dean. “You changed me, Dean”.

Mary looks from Cas to Dean to see her boy’s reaction, and she sees him absorbing the words, trying not to feel the pain as Castiel struggles to breathe.

“You’re my family. I love you.”

Cas looks away on that last bit. He looks away, but the camera shows us Dean in this moment. Two episodes earlier, he said that Cas “cared” about them, but maybe Dean didn’t realize how much.

Maybe he didn’t realize the kind of love an Angel was capable of—but Castiel isn’t any old Angel.

“I love all of you.”

Cas looks to Sam first, but then to Dean. And the reverse shot here is Dean, looking down at a dying Cas, lip quivering. We’ll finally see Sam, again, after we see Dean. Moose is sad to lose the Angel, too.

But Sam will always know how much harder it hits Dean. Every time.

And all of these cuts between Cas and Dean are intentional, as are the shots of Mary looking from her son to this Angel, who means so much to him, who her actions injured.

Editing is an art. It’s a skill. There’s a reason there are awards for it because it’s storytelling.

Some folks think all the storytelling happens on the page or on the screen or both. And much as I love writers and wholeheartedly believe they still don’t get their due, everyone involved in a production is some sort of storyteller.

Lights tell a story. Where they are. Where they aren’t.

Costuming tells a story. What a character wears. Their state of mind. Their motivations and needs.

Set dressing tells a story. What matters to these characters and what doesn’t? What do they preserve and what do they let go?

So when I say Editing tells a story, you better believe I mean in. How a scene is cut together matters. Now, yes, the shots themselves and coverage are determined way ahead of time.

There may be storyboarding, discussions with the Director of Photography and working with the Director of a given episode to achieve their vision. Not to mention adjustments made on-the-fly once you’re actually setting up the scene.

But the Editors have a hand in this story, too. Some Directors lean over their Editors a lot, and some don’t. No clue which is the case in this episode. But if you look at all these shots during Castiel’s death speech, how they’re edited together says the things unsaid.

This is the “subtext” Destiel shippers caught onto long, long ago. So much of their story is told simply in how the scenes are lovingly stitched together.

We aren’t trying to read into something that isn’t there. We’re simply following the breadcrumbs to what appears to be a logical conclusion.

From Cas to Dean. Mary looking from Cas to Dean, not to Sam. Dean to Cas.

Yes, there are shots of Sam in there, but the shots that correspond with the dialogue are leading us somewhere. We’re simply following the breadcrumbs.

“Just please, please don’t make my last moments be spent watching you die. Just run. Save yourselves. And I will hold Ramiel off as long as I can.”

Oh, Cas. “I’ll hold them all off” with the archangels. “Run” with the Leviathans. Asking Dean to leave him alone as soon as he found the Angel in Purgatory. Even as he’s dying, he wants to save them.

Again, and again, and again. Protecting the Winchesters is his greatest mission.

“Cas, no.” “Yes. You need to keep fighting.” “We are fighting. We’re fighting for you, Cas.”

Aw, Sammy. Not gonna let your brother’s boyfriend die. Love the support!

“And like you said, you’re family. And we don’t leave family behind.”

To me, this is the moment Mary fully registers what Castiel means to her boy, even if Dean doesn’t see it himself, yet. Cas is next to her, trying not to cry.

Because this is love. Is it the romantic love he believes he’ll never receive from Dean? No. But there are many kinds of love, and Cas doesn’t need reciprocal love to love Dean. He simply… loves him.

But that “for love” Castiel talks about in S15E18? This is one of those times the Angel gets to witness Dean’s “for love” being “for Cas”. And that’s damn powerful.

Castiel starts to cry. Not the tears of agony or heartbreak, but of love. There have been many times when Dean’s love has shone through, that Cas has witnessed.

But I don’t think he’s ever felt it as acutely as he did here.

Look how Cas is locked on Dean in that moment. Remember, he’s an Angel. And he can see into Dean. This is a “heart choice” and it’s for Cas.

Once healed, the Winchester boys help Cas up, but once he’s on his feet, Cas only has eyes for Dean. And Dean looks back like he can’t believe it. While Sam releases Cas’ hand fairly quickly, Dean and Cas linger on one another’s as Dean pats Cas’ back.

Mary is about to fess up when Castiel asks what Ramiel meant about someone stealing from him, but Dean’s just happy to have Cas back, and his gaze and voice are so soft.

Mary clamps down—but not before she notices the intense staring going on between these two. She realizes what she almost did, what she almost took from her son. Indirectly, yes, but that was too damn high a price.

“Let’s go home.”

Home. Home is sometimes a place. Sometimes a person. But always a feeling.

“I almost lost one of my boys.”

This woman loves her son-in-law. Like, from moment one, she clocked something going on between Cas and Dean, and in only her second episode, Castiel was the one trying to offer her comfort, to tell her she belonged.

Cas and Dean have their falling outs, yes, but they find their way back. And this time, it was her actions and her secrets that nearly tore them apart. She doesn’t want to risk that, again. How could she look her son in the eye?

S12E14 -

“You were running an errand for the Brits. You kept it from us. Cas almost died.”

Always gonna be Dean to bring up his sweetheart.

“I am your mother. But I am not just a mom. And you are not a child.” “I never was.”

Damn, this hurts. The stories I could tell you… the things that happen when you childhood ends at 5, for Dean, or 6, for me.

“And this whole peacemaker schtick that you've been running, first with Cas, now with Mom. It’s getting old, man.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” “You’re always playing the middle, Sam. For once, why don’t you pick a side?”

Y’know what, Dean, your brother has your back through so much bullshit. And while you’re all black-and-white, pick-a-side, Sam has a view that leans grey and mediated. He doesn’t have to always agree with you to have your back.

But, I mean, I hate your mother, so there’s that, I guess.

And, again, no hate against the actress. She does a lovely job. But I could chuck the character off the page in two seconds flat and show zero remorse. Good thing I’m not writing her arc, eh? It’d be two pages long and so boring.

We need the conflict, I get it. But, personally, I can still want to tell her off.

S12E15 -

Cas meets that other Angel who gets him to betray Dean… again.

“Look, you’ve got more field experience than the next thousand angels combined.” “I think you overestimate me.”

This Angel is poking at him. Sure, you’ve got the Winchesters, but why not work with us, too? Yeah, this place is nice, but don’t you miss home?

“He sound weird to you?”Oh, Dean, your Castiel Sense has come a long way. And the last time you ignored your Castiel Tingle (nope… we gotta find another word for that) he turned out to be Lucifer.

So, that means you’re going to follow up, right? Right?!

Yeah, no. This is Dean Winchester. Move on to the next Monster of the Week, Lady of the night, and Beer of the hour.

S12E16 -

“Killing monsters is what we do. Or maybe paling around with demons and witches, you’ve forgotten.” “Don’t tell me how to do my job.” “Well, then do it.” “You think it’s that simple, do you?” “I really do.” “Yeah, I used to think the same thing. Here’s a little tip. Things aren’t just black and white out here.”

Yes, Dean. Yes. Finally showing that frickin’ growth you’ve been working at.

And, like Cas with the Angels, trying to pass on that earned growth without all the scars to another Hunter. Well, British Man of Letters, but close enough.

S12E17 -

“Hey, you hear anything from Cas, yet?” “Mm. No. Still MIA.” “You think he’s alright?” “I don’t know.”

Stupid Cas worrying his stupid boyfriend. Call him, Cas! Geez Louise!

S12E18 -

“Cas, it’s me. I’ve been trying to get ahold of you for days. I don’t know what’s going on, but we got a line on Dagon, and we got our asses handed to us even with the colt. So, we could really use the backup. Just call me back.”

Dean’s getting worried. You can hear it in his voice. Who knows how many messages he’s left, how many times he’s texted to no avail.

Also, try praying. Even if he’s out of cell service, he’s not outta prayer coverage!

“So, no luck with Cas, huh?” “Yeah, still AWOL.” “Alright, so let’s find him.” “I’ve been trying, Sam. The GPS on his phone is turned off, and there’s nothing in the system about some weird guy in a trench coat getting arrested or turning up dead.” “Dean, it’s Cas. I mean, this isn’t the first time he’s dropped off the map, you know? And whatever’s happening, he’ll be fine. He always is.” “Yeah.”

Now Sam is in comfort mode, knowing Dean’s been looking for Dead Cas. That’s how worried Dean is—he thinks Cas is gone gone.

And this is the episode where the table gets its first scratches as the boys leave their marks. I love the moments where we remember they are brothers not just brothers who hunt and save the world and doom the world and try to save it, again.

Like, the little human moments like this are what reminds us of their love for one another and that they do have some good moments together. Not just, y’know, shared generational trauma.

S12E19 -

“Let me rephrase that for Sam. Where the hell have you been. And why have you been ignoring our phone calls?”

Ooh, boyfriend is pissed you’re screening his calls, babe.

“It’s a gift. You keep those.”

I’m sorry. Is that… a mixtape!? Dean made a mixtape of his favorite songs for his boyfriend? Like, yes, Castiel is using this as an excuse to enter the room and carry out his latest betrayal.

But, Dean, you gotta level with me. How many of your guy friends have you made a mixtape for?

I mean, I’m old enough I made mixtapes on my boombox from the Top 40 that played on the radio. I’d memorize the order and know when to push down “record” to get the ones I loved.

But I wasn’t gonna share them with my brother. This is boyfriend behavior, Mr. Winchester, and you have some explaining to do!

“Cas you can’t… With everything that’s going on, you can’t just go dark like that. We didn’t know what happened. We were worried. That’s not okay.”

Oh, this aches. Dean is actually leveling with Cas and being honest. And I know Cas wishes he could be honest, back, but he thinks he’s protecting Dean by not including him.

It’s one of those lessons Cas just doesn’t quite learn—Dean would rather be in deep shit with you than in the dark. He’d rather be facing down the monsters by your side than stumbling blind.

Stop cutting your boyfriend out of the equation just because you’re afraid he might get hurt!

“Dean, I just keep failing. Again and again… I just wanted - I needed to come back here with a win for you. For myself.” {Dean turns} “You think you’re the only one rolling snake eyes here?”

This reminds me of, “I look like good luck to you?” Same vibes. Maybe Cas used that as the template for this whole conversation.

“We will find a better way.” “You mean we?” [motions between them} “Yes, dumbass, we. You, me, and Sam, we’re just better together. So now that you’re back, let’s go Team Free Will”

I’m sorry, Dean, but where the hell is the personal space?

“It was under my pillow. … He came into my room and he played me.”

I’m sorry. Phrasing.

Also, what are you doing telling your boy-toy you sleep with the colt under your pillow? How did Cas even know about it? When did you tell him? What was the context of this conversation? And when did you start telling Cas things you don’t tell Sam?

Like, look, I’m not unhappy you’re breaking away from that super co-dependent relationship that is literally holding you both back while at the same time preserving you in ways that separating cannot. But, I wish we got to see it.

“How did you find us?” “While you were scamming me for the colt, Sam put a tracking device on your phone.”

Ah, yes. One of you has half a braincell, and it ain’t the one blinded by love.

“I wanted to keep you out of this. I was trying to keep you safe.” “You’re not our babysitter, Cas, okay? This is not your job. {Cas reaction} And when in our whole lives have we ever been safe?”

Honestly, I don’t think Dean’s ever been loved like this. Think about it. Nobody was there to protect Dean.

Dean was the protector—the one constantly watching out for Sammy. And, now, he tries hard to protect Cas, too. But he’s not used to someone protecting him because he feels like that’s his job.

But nobody knows more than Castiel that even the great Dean Winchester sometimes needs saving.

“Dagon is after Kelly. Your truck is broke down. Why don’t we get in the Impala, we’ll head back to the bunker and we’ll talk. We’ll figure it out.”

The shots tighten after he says this. Cas, then Dean. It’s always a battle of wills with these two. And in this moment, Cas relents.

"I betrayed my friends… my family.”

Note he talks about “two of my men” for those who call him “brother” but he no longer sees the Angels as his family. He sees Dean and Sam as his family.

“Well he hasn’t exactly had a banner year… everything’s blowing up in his face and he’s so desperate for a win right now he can’t even see straight.”

Why are they so alike!? Dean takes the Mark of Cain and straight up murders a buncha people, then Sam’s able to get the Mark off only to unleash the fucking Darkness, and now Castiel’s on the lamb with the President’s mistress and the spawn of Satan.

Yeah, fun club you’ve got, boys. I heartily decline membership.

Later, Castiel straight up smites Dagon. The moment the power flows from Kelly’s hand to Cas, Dean sees it. It’s Dean who immediately spies something is up with Cas.

“You’re hurt.”

Even when they’re at odds, he’s going to heal Dean. And it’s fascinating that he reaches for his arm, here, his and Dean’s hands barely touching as he does. His fingers wrap around Dean’s arm when they don’t need to.

“Whatever that thing did to you, we’re not gonna just let you walk away.”

Dean has seen Cas lobotomized. He’s seen him possessed. He’s seen Cas go through so many horrible things, and he wants to stop this before it gets bad. But, it’s too late.

With a touch, Sam’s out. And as he reaches for Dean, all the human can mutter is “Don’t” before he’s out and headed to the ground.

S12E20 -

“So, last night, that Super Mario power up crap? That wasn’t Cas. That freakin’ baby isn’t even born, yet, and it sock-puppeted him.”

This makes sense, based on every other time he’s seen Cas a little off. There was Godstiel, there was Naomi mind control, and there was Casifer. I mean, when it comes to being controlled by other beings, Cas has a reputation.

And it always goes badly.

“Look, this doesn’t make any sense to me, either, Dean, but if we wanna have some shot at finding Cas, then we have to, I don’t know. Uh, try and think like him?”

Look at poor Dean. He is worried. They survive Casifer and all that bullshit for Cas to up and disappear to then con him of the Colt, then he goes AWOL with Satan’s semen.

“How? I mean, seriously. Up until now if Cas messed up, if he did something wrong, but he thought it was for the right reasons, I got it. Right? But last night when I looked at him, I did not recognize the guy staring back at me.”

I mean, to be fair, Castiel didn’t look constipated, concerned, or confused, so I guess that would make him harder to recognize.

“Even if you can’t swing by, can you call me back? Just some stuff going down that’s got me spun out.”

He can’t shake the Cas stuff. He never could. And now he really wants his mom to be there for him to talk about his boy troubles.

Which is such a fun reversal from earlier in the season when he was gabbing with his Angel guy about his Mom troubles.

S12E22 -

“Y’know, it won’t long ago I thought we had it made. We saved the world. We got Cas back. We had Mom back. I mean, it wasn’t perfect, but, still, we had ’em. And now.” “Now they’re all gone.”

Ouch. I mean, just ouch. I mean, yeah, Mom stuff’s a bit worrisome, but Castiel is in the wind, not in the ground. You can still get him back.

“Yup. Big. Beautiful. And Dumb.”

Dean describing the weapon… or was he describing himself? Hmmm.

S12E23 -

“Dean.”

I just love how the little Angel only needs to acknowledge Dean. He sees the others, of course. This is his family. But it’s always gonna be Dean.

“We’ll work through our crap. We always do.”

This aches. It reminds me of Season 7 all over again when Cas assured Dean in episode 1 that he would redeem himself, that he would find a way. And then he dies.

This time, Dean says that he and Castiel will get through it because they always do. He knows that he and Cas will find their way back to one another, even if their paths diverge, sometimes. And this is important.

Because that cord between them is so strong now it feels almost impenetrable. That while their lives may take them away from one another at times, they are connected and that bond cannot be broken.

Dean has no idea how easily the right kind of blade can severe a cord completely when wielded in weighty hands. He goes into this situation knowing the odds, but thinking they’ll come out of it, fine.

And after they figure it out, they can talk it out. After they get through this latest horror, they can yell at each other and make amends.

All they need is time.

Oh, Dean, you think you have time. But time is running out, faster than you know.

“I have faith in us. You. Me. Mom. Cas. And Crowley. Sometimes.”

While, yes, the core of this show is the brothers—and it always has been—this is a moment when Dean is recounting those closest to them. And right behind his blood family is Cas.

Dean shouts when the knife pierces Cas and he sees his Angel die. He’s devastated when his Mom disappears into the closing portal with Lucifer. And while Sam has the wherewithal enough to go check on Kelly, Dean can’t tear himself from Castiel’s side.

He drops to his knees next to the body of his closest friend, his best friend, his almost something. And all those words he thought they’d have time to say die on his lips.

Something within him dies with them.

When he lost Cas to the Leviathans, he was shaky. When he lost him to Purgatory, he was devastated. When he watched him die and come back to life when he was human-ish, he nearly stroked out.

But this time, he’s shattered. Dean is shattered. The pieces are strewing everywhere and he can’t pull it back together.

Yes, part of this is his Mom. We’re not going to pretend that doesn’t hurt something awful. But it’s not all her. A lot of it is Cas.

Looking for Part V? It’s here! Thank you for reading!

[satanslovergirl]

=°= HALLOWED GROUND =°=

*"The righteous man who begins it is the only one who can finish it."*

— *Castiel, Supernatural: Season 4, Episode 2 ("Are You There, God? It's Me, Dean Winchester")*

---

**Word Count:** 8,217

**Pairing:** Dean Winchester x Reader (She/Her)

**Tone:** Protector!Dean, Angry!Dean, Jealous!Dean, Enemies to lovers

**Written by:** Little Devil ♡

**Synopsis:**

When a sacred burial site is desecrated, Dean, Sam, and Castiel discover Y/N—an archaeologist with supernatural ties—unwittingly triggered an ancient curse. She joins them reluctantly, her knowledge vital to stopping a seal from breaking. But as the war between Heaven and Hell escalates, so does Dean’s inner conflict. Falling for her was never in the plan. Letting her go might be the only way to save her.

**Rating:** M (Violence, Injury, Language, Intimacy)

**Based on:** Season 4 (AU insert, post-episode 2; timeline consistent with Castiel’s introduction, and seal-breaking arc)

---

The wind ripped across the open field, the Kansas plains stretched thin beneath a bruised sky, storm clouds blooming black over a burial mound older than most men could fathom. Dean Winchester adjusted the collar of his jacket, boots crunching against the dried yellow grass, eyes narrowing as they scanned the dig site.

It reeked of death. But not the fresh kind. Older. Something ancient, waiting beneath the dirt, now stirred.

Sam had already ducked beneath the yellow tape—Bobby’s name was written across the top of the case file, but the local historical society had flagged it when a museum intern went catatonic during cataloging. And now a body lay gutted on the altar rock. Sacrificial. Ritualistic. Wrong.

“What the hell do you think this is?” Dean muttered, squinting at the sigils scorched into the stone.

“A seal,” Castiel's voice arrived before his form did, sudden and ghostlike. “One of sixty-six. Broken incorrectly, it won’t just release Hell—it will unmake the boundary between the living and the divine.”

Dean turned, startled, but masked it with a tight scowl. “Yeah? Then maybe Heaven can send someone down who actually gives us a little warning before that happens.”

Castiel only tilted his head. “You’re already here.”

Before Dean could retort, a voice snapped across the field—low, sharp, exasperated. “Hey! You can’t be here!”

The woman approaching was dust-streaked, sunburnt, hair pinned haphazardly under a bandana. But the fury in her voice was clear, laced with the kind of fire Dean hadn’t seen outside a hunter’s glare. She held a field notebook tight to her chest, arms crossed.

“I’m not here to argue,” Sam said quickly. “We’re friends of Bobby Singer.”

That gave her pause. Her gaze flicked between them, landing last—and longest—on Dean.

He met it, a little curious, a little annoyed. And suddenly the air between them stretched thin, taut like a wire.

She hesitated. “You’re here about the curse, aren’t you.”

---

°•°•°•°

The house was old, creaky, and filled with open books. Y/N poured tea without offering, her hands trembling slightly despite the steel in her voice. Dean watched her, quietly assessing. She was sharp—too sharp for this mess to be accidental.

“So you just ‘accidentally’ disturbed a sacred burial mound, woke up a curse, and now people are dying?” he asked.

Her eyes snapped to his. “I didn’t disturb it. I was cataloging artifacts—carefully. It was already compromised.”

Sam nodded beside her. “There were signs of summoning—blood rituals.”

“That wasn’t me,” she said, sharper now. “I didn’t even know what I’d found until it was too late. Then Bobby called.”

Dean leaned back. “Right. And you just happened to be an expert on ancient seals, huh?”

“Enough.” Castiel’s voice silenced the room. “She is not your enemy.”

Dean clenched his jaw, fingers tapping his knee. “Doesn’t mean I have to trust her.”

But he did. Or… he was starting to.

---

°•°•°•°

Over the next few days, Y/N became an unwelcome fixture—and then, strangely, necessary.

She could read symbols faster than Sam could Google them. She translated celestial coordinates buried in Enochian. She handled cursed objects without flinching. And Dean hated how natural it felt—how easily she fit into their rhythm.

He caught himself watching her.

The way she wrinkled her nose when she thought. The way she tied her jacket around her waist when it got too warm. The way she tilted toward Castiel, talking in hushed tones, celestial jargon Dean couldn’t decipher.

Jealousy prickled, hot and petty. It wasn’t just that she was close to the angel. It was that she didn’t look at *him* that way.

And yet—

“Dean,” she said one night, voice soft. “Why won’t you sleep?”

He blinked, halfway through polishing his gun. He hadn’t realized she was still awake.

He shrugged. “Sleep’s overrated.”

She stepped closer. “You’ve got dark circles under your eyes. And you haven’t smiled once since I got here.”

“I don’t really smile at strangers.”

Something in her expression softened. “Am I still a stranger?”

Dean didn’t answer.

---

°•°•°•°

The attack came at dusk.

They’d followed coordinates to a half-collapsed chapel built into the side of a hill. The moment Y/N stepped onto the cracked stone altar, the ground split, sigils igniting in gold fire beneath her feet.

Dean tackled her, rolled them both to safety as the seal flared and shrieked.

“You alright?” he barked, hands scanning her arms, her ribs.

“I’m fine,” she rasped, heart hammering beneath his touch.

“Don’t ever do that again,” he growled. “You don’t walk into the fire unless you know you can walk out.”

“You think I *want* to be part of this?” she snapped. “I didn’t ask for any of this. But if it means stopping a seal—saving lives—then I’ll risk it.”

“No,” Dean said, low and trembling. “You don’t get to throw yourself on the altar. That’s *my* job.”

They stared at each other.

Neither said what was suddenly screaming between them.

---

°•°•°•°

Later that night, Dean stood outside the motel room, beer sweating in his palm, knuckles white.

He couldn’t do this. Couldn’t afford to let her in. Not when he had one foot already in Hell’s door.

But when she opened the door to him—hair loose, eyes wide—he didn’t walk away.

“I needed air,” he lied.

She stepped aside.

Minutes passed. They didn’t talk. The silence was heavy, intimate. Dean caught sight of her hands, ink-stained from hours of research. He wanted to take them in his.

Instead, he looked at the floor. “You scare the hell out of me.”

She looked up, startled.

Dean swallowed. “You’re brave. And smart. And you give a damn. And every time I look at you, I think—what if I let myself feel something. What if I let myself want this.”

He paused.

“But I can’t.”

“Why not?” she whispered.

“Because I’m already gone.”

She stepped closer. “You’re not. Not yet.”

Dean clenched his fists. “Y/N…”

“Let me choose, Dean. Let me fight for you.”

And God help him, he let her pull him in.

---

°•°•°•°

In the chapel, beneath the final seal’s echo, Y/N stood ready to give herself up.

The curse needed blood. Prophetic blood. Hers.

Dean screamed her name as she stepped forward.

But Castiel held him back. “If she doesn’t do this—”

“I don’t care!” Dean roared. “She doesn’t get to die for us!”

Y/N turned, eyes wet. “It’s the only way.”

“No,” Dean said, breaking free, crossing the circle.

He stood in front of her, shaking. “You once asked why I won’t let people in. This is why. Because they die. And I can’t lose you.”

Her lip trembled. “Dean…”

“I love you,” he said. “You stupid, brave woman. I love you. And I’d rather the world burn than let you go.”

Her hands found his. Fingers gripped tight.

Behind them, the seal cracked—not fully—but enough to stall. Enough for Castiel to step in, redirect the energy. A temporary fix.

Y/N collapsed into Dean’s arms. Alive.

---

=°= END =°=

*You don't have to be alone anymore.*

— *Dean Winchester, Season 5, Episode 10*

---

**#dean winchester x reader** **#supernatural fanfiction**

**#spn fanfic** **#season 4** **#castiel** **#hurt comfort** **#emotional dean**

**#novella format** **#written by little devil ♡**

[holylulusworld]

On the road

Summary: You and team free will are on the road.

Pairing: No real pairing – you can imagine if it’s Dean Winchester x Reader, Sam Winchester x Reader, or Castiel x Reader

Warnings: banter, fun, language

Divider by @firefly-graphics

“Let’s play a game,” you clap your hands to encourage your team to join the fun. “Come on,” you kick the front seat, making Dean grunt. “Don’t be a spoilsport.”

“You kick that seat again and you walk the rest of the way,” Dean mutters. “I dare you to kick one part of my car again.”

“But I’m bored, and still pumped up from the fight, or rather the lack of it,” grunting you glance at Castiel. “That’s all your fault, buddy!”

“Hey, leave Cas alone. He saved your cocky ass in there,” the elder Winchester argues while you stick your tongue out at Castiel.

“Shut up, big meanie,” you grin at Dean in the rearview mirror. “Your job is to drive the car, focus on the road, and get us home safely.”

“What?” Dean hiccups. “Who made you the boss?”

“We all go a job in the car,” you point out. “You,” patting Dean’s shoulder you smirk, “are the driver. Sammy.” You grab Sam’s hair to tug at it. “Because you always call shotgun are the destined navigator for this trip.”

“Let me guess, sweetheart,” Dean throws an empty water bottle at you, “you are here for games and to annoy us.”

“No, you dummy,” you slap his shoulder again. “I’m the official food and drinks distributor.”

“Rather the person asking if we are there yet,” Sam laughs as you snarl his name and throw the empty water bottle at him.

“No, she’s the one napping and snoring in the backseat while I try to focus on driving.” Dean laughs as you kick his seat again. “Stop kicking the seat!”

You cross your arms over your chest and pout. No one wants to play a game and you a bored to hell and back. “You’re not funny.”

“What about me?” Castiel glances at you. “Everyone has a task. You didn’t give one to me.”

“Oh, yeah!” You gasp. The last thing you wanted was to make Castiel feel like an outsider, or that he’s not welcome to sit next to you in the backseat. “You’ve got your angel blade ready, so you are the bodyguard for this trip.”

“Bodyguard,” Castiel hums. “I’ll be watching over you then.” He nods and watches you put your jacket in his lap. “What are you doing?”

“You are my pillow. I will rest my head in your lap,” you rest your head in Castiel’s lap and get comfortable. “I’ll take that nap now. There will be no snacks for you two.” You point at Sam and Dean before closing your eyes.

“Well Cas, I guess you got the hard job this time,” Dean jokes.

“It’s an honor to protect Y/N,” the angel replies. “I’ll be watching over her sleep until we get to the bunker.”

“I guess we go another concurrent,” Sam whispers to his brother. He glances over his shoulder to watch you sleep.

“Not a chance,” Dean grunts. “Cas doesn’t stand a chance, just like you…”

Tags in reblog.

[naturegirl555]

Ranting about supernatural because I hate this show so so much (I’m so so obsessed with it to the point where it’s concerning) and I’m on season 6 episode 20 “the man who would be king” and can I just say how incredibly annoying the boys are! Like can you maybe hear cas out maybe! His reasons for doing these things aren’t malicious or demonic. He is fighting a war in heaven which they couldn’t give to shits about and now they are gonna be mad because he was MANIPULATED by crowley (I love the man but still) like can they use their brains for one moment. And I feel this may come off like I hate Sam and dean and I do not in any way they are very complex characters with trauma and trust issues but cas has done everything for them. He was trying to save them. He didn’t know the outcome. Like Sam and dean have never made a mistake before. Because I remember a couple seasons ago where Sam was going crazy gorging on demon blood because he thought he could do good with that power! So why be so hypocritical and get mad at cas in the way they did. And can we just talk about how broken cas looked when they trapped him in the holy fire! Like Sam said to him did you bring me back without a soul on purpose and his eyes god! Like in what world would castiel who saved you both from hell do that purposely! It was already hard enough to save dean it was a group project in a way he didn’t have help with Sam! And cas is also doing all of this because he thinks its what god wants. He is so blinded by his faith again because he got brought back to life. He had the idea that he was brought back for this reason and chuck did absolutely nothing because all he wants is drama and trauma for the collective and not caring about how his kids feel! Castiels faith breaks my heart because no one could understand it. Dean couldn’t and Sam couldn’t. Castiel has been an angel since the beginning it’s not so easy to give up everything you’ve ever known even when you know that it might not be the right thing. Was it easy for dean to see his father the way everyone else saw John. No. So why can’t it be difficult for cas. They truly never give cas a break. And yes I’m a major destiel shipper. But the way dean acts towards cas sometimes makes me so enraged. But this “breakup” dean looked heartbroken. Castiel had lied to him. Him of all people. The man who he had a profound bond with. He just wanted cas to ask for help and cas didn’t because he doesn’t do that. He’s never been not capable before things have never been this difficult for him before. And when you look at what castiel did there was truly nothing wrong with it. He was blinded and manipulated and he didn’t want all of the shit they endured to stop the apocalypse to be for nothing. He didn’t go to dean because he saw dean living a normal life he saw him getting out and he wanted to respect that. How could castiel have known dean wasn’t happy in that life. Castiel isn’t very good with human emotions and his thinking is very black and white while the winchesters have shades of gray thinking. So how is it fair to blame cas for all of it. I’m sorry about this rant i just feel so much about this! Like castiel is my favorite fictional character of all time and I wish I could’ve teleported into the show and been his lawyer because no one would listen to him no one ever does. I love all of them very very much but it would be dumb to think castiel doesn’t deserve better. Thank you for coming to my Ted talk about castiel. It may happen again

[lol-jackles]

I'm rewatching spn and Jared 's portrayal of Sam when possessed by demon Meg in season 2 I think is sooo good! He really appears unhinged when he comes out as the demon, and even the scenes where Sam (possessed by Meg) is acting like Sam, are so wicked. I think this is the first episode where Jared sort of portrays a character who is not Sam (in mind, body and spirit) and he really does a wonderful job.

With Dean's character I've noticed that whenever he is in mortal danger, like making the year long deal to save sam's life, or the mark of cain arc, or being possessed by Michael arc, and many many more arcs in the later season, Dean just completely gives up on himself and on life. I HATE this attitude with every cell of my being! MORE than Dean being codependent on Sam and not letting him live his life without Dean. I hate this defeatist attitude so much. And then everyone else around him has to worry for him and take care of him and find resolutions for his issues. While with Sam, he doesn't give up till his last fighting breath. I love that!

 Meg!Sam was probably the first time when casual watchers sat up and go, "whoa, the kid can act!". When Meg and Castiel became a canon couple, I thought it was a huge missed opportunity that Meg didn't possess Sam again and gift us scenes of Castiel swooning after a flirty Meg!Sam.

Yeah, Dean's defeatist attitude was a plot device that can get tiresome, starting in season 5. Still, it was a plot device that usually works as part of Sam's hero journy arc.

From Sam’s point of view, Dean’s endless self-inflicted apathy is part of the long list of crappy-things-to-do-to-Sam.  Like in episode 13x05, Dean temporarily killing himself so he can go into the dead zone to find the bodies and free the souls, while a good idea (I guess???), was still a very crappy thing to do to Sam as there was no discussion, just “here’s a needle give me five minutes being dead okay see you later.”  It’s been ongoing since season 2, so I don’t blame Sam in season 14 for thinking the Mal'ex magic box business is just the latest in a long string of events of Dean causing himself harm and then giving up at the first inconvenience.  Sam’s angry speech in episode 14x11 “Damaged Goods” was not only about Dean cutting Sam out of his plan with no discussion but also for giving up by using blind faith in fate as an excuse (“since when do we believe in fate?”).  Sam’s speech in episode 14x12 “Prophet and Loss” recounts their long history of defying fate and surviving literal and figurative hell because they had faith in themselves. Dean is forgiven for forgetting this lesson every season because the plot device kicks in just in time to give us some of Jared's finest acting of Sam’s decade-long frustrations with Dean’s obstinance, causing him to breakdown and ask, “why don’t you believe in us?”, like a child asking why adults do stupid things when the adults should know better. 

Dean's defeatist attitude is part of the determinism (Dean) vs free will (Sam) philosophy that ran through the series by Sam confronting and challenging the authority figures in his life: John Winchester, Dean Winchester, Lucifer, and then God. They all wanted Sam to be something he didn’t want to be - John’s solider, Dean’s companion, Lucifer’s vessel, and Chuck's story.  Eventually, Sam acquiesced to their demands but on his own terms, he became a hunter to leave a legacy, became Dean’s partner to save him, became Lucifer’s vessel to save the world, became Chuck's story to defeat him and bring free will into the world through Jack, a nephilim he essentially raised and influenced.

Dean: "Finally free"

[profoundbondfanfic]

Hey, I was wondering if you had any reverse fics, with Dean as an angel and Cas as the hunter ?

(also, you are doing God's work and I love your blog so so much ❤️❤️)

Hello there, thank you so much! And here are a few fics we've enjoyed:

Calming the Weather by seidenapfel [Explicit, 35k words]

Rescued from the Empty, Cas is fully human, and miserable. So, rather than acknowledge what happened in the dungeon, Dean searches for a way to change that. He finds it in a simple spell. The spell gives ordinary humans a limited dose of angelic powers. Too afraid it might harm Cas, Dean tests it on himself. But it backfires. Thanks to a piece of Grace bound to his soul, Dean wakes up fully powered, wings and all. With their roles reversed, it is up to Castiel to teach Dean how to wield angelic powers, and for Dean to share the peaks and lows of humanity with Castiel. Misconceptions come to light as they learn from each other. Meanwhile, a storm is brewing. In order to stop it, Dean not only has to get a hold on his emotions, but he must face a revelation about himself, one he had repressed all his life.

Castiel's Angel by Valinde (Valyria) [Explicit, 5k words]

The angel took a deep breath and looked down at his hands. He was fidgeting Cas noticed. Usually he was so bizarrely at ease in his human form, lounging around and tossing winks and smirks at anyone with a pulse. That more than anything had Cas straightening on his stool and wishing he was a little less tipsy. “Ineedyoutogroommywings,” Dean muttered in one long, almost unintelligible, string. He was blushing.

Grace the Gun by chevrolangels [Explicit, 169k words]

He’s got a shotgun in his hand and his mother’s broken rosary around his neck. His eye is cut open and dripping, and he’s got forty years of Hell fresh in his mind. Do not. Fuck with him. It's been four months since he died, when Castiel wakes up, six feet below the ground, alive. Alive without an explanation, with a mysterious itch under his skin and rumors of a whisper, a whisper of something so powerful, that demons themselves are running scared. Then he meets the thing that pulled him out—a spitfire angel named Dean, who turns out to be nothing to run from. With his sister Anna at his side, Gabriel at his back, and three angels in their corner, they're gonna take the fight to them. And they're gonna show God just exactly how they feel about his plan for fate and destiny.

Hunting for Faith by perunamuusa, riseofthefallenone [Explicit, 270k words]

It starts a few days earlier. Castiel first notices it in the middle of the night when the dreams of fire and screams have kept him awake. He’s kneeling before the altar, praying, when the glass in the windows start to shake, the very air vibrating around him. Castiel is on his feet and reaching for the gun tucked into the back of his pants as the shutters over the windows start to rattle.

My Roots Take Flight by KismetJeska [Mature, 125k words]

After forty years in Hell, Dean’s more than willing to accept the offer: become a guardian angel and earn his freedom. But his new ward seems destined to hunt alongside Sam, and there are secrets in Heaven that the angels don’t want found out. Dean’s going to have to choose between his duty and the people he loves- and to work out just where Castiel fits in.

Obey His Word by K_K_TiBal [Teen and Up, 33k words]

When Castiel was ten years old, he was cursed to always be obedient. Now he’s a hunter—not the best one at his job, admittedly, since he’s always forced to comply with the monsters that beg for their life. Everything changes on one such hunt, when an angel named Dean saves his life, and tells Castiel that he’s searching for his missing brother, Sam. His naive callousness about humans and give-em-Hell attitude is off-putting, but Dean ends up being exactly what Castiel didn’t know he needed. As he grows closer to Dean, he tries to keep the secret of the curse close to his chest—but the past always has a way of exposing the truth. Curses are hard—but trust is harder.

the rapture of distress by ozonecologne [Mature, 16k words]

Castiel swung his legs around the edge of the bed and leaned forward, setting the eggs aside. He briefly entertained the notion of patting Dean’s knee, so close to his own now, before deciding against it. Holding hands in your sleep is weird enough. "Whatever it is, I'm sure it isn't the end of the world," he consoled, wiping some grease from his mouth. Dean looked up then, and he remained guiltily silent. Castiel’s eyebrows shot up, up, up, along with his heart rate. His breakfast stuck like glue in his throat. "The end of the world?" Dean winced. "I'm working on it." A reverse!verse AU in which Castiel is a hunter and he’s visited by an angel.

To Hold In Your Hands by saltnhalo [Teen and Up, 6k words]

Castiel has never wanted an angel. He does just fine on his own, has for a long time—since he was old enough to hold a shotgun and make a salt circle. He’s proud of what he’s been able to achieve without angelic help, and the longer he can keep hunting solo, the better. But judging by the summons he’s just received to the Men of Letters’ bunker, his time is up. He can’t avoid his future angel partner any longer. (aka. five times that Dean saves Castiel's life, and five times that Castiel slowly learns angels aren't as bad as he'd thought)

[nancylou444]

Here’s my response to the arsehole who blocked you. I wasn’t going to comment on their terrible taste, but since they seem like a dick, here we go.

…

“Don't think about an alternate bittersweet ending where the boys somehow find a way to free Castiel from the empty."

- brothers fans (not even talking wincestie here, just people who like the actual story) don’t think about this at all, because Sam and Dean don’t give a shit, certainly not enough to risk their own happy ending to save the loser angel. And fans of the actual show, not the imaginary garbage in your head, don't give a shit that Cass died two episodes before the end. He should have died at least 3 seasons earlier, if not more.

"Don't think about Sam taking it upon himself after researching the way top to bottom and realising the consequences. Because Dean needs Castiel and Castiel needs Dean."

- Castiel is dead, so he doesn’t need anything. And when Sam brought up Cass to Dean, he basically shrugged and suggested they enjoy life and eat pie. Dean. Does. Not. Need. Castiel.

"Don't think about Sam being at peace with the plan because he doesn't have much left himself and he's just going through the motions - but Dean would have Castiel and that's good enough for him."

- Sam has Dean, and that’s enough, and he’s always been the character who has hope for the future. He’s not throwing his life away for the moldy trench coat. And if Dean thought Sam would try, he’d kill them both before he Sam could do it, sending them both to heaven together.

"Don't think about it working only for Sam to die in Dean's arms, his big brother telling him how proud he is, and that it worked. That he did it."

- This would be Dean's literal nightmare. He would NOT tell San he was proud if he did this. Why do you hate his character so much that you would wish this on him?

"Finally, he did something right. He did it. Dean and Castiel are going to be happy together and Sam...."

- "Finally, he did something right," fuck you. Sam went to hell to save the whole world. He didn’t owe anyone shit by the end. There is NO happy for Dean without Sam. If he knew Sam killed himself to bring Cass back, Dean would kill the angel himself, sending him to the empty yet again. Then Dean would chose death by monster and join Sam in heaven within the year.

Why don't the whiny piss babies like this go watch some lame YA queer romance with all the TayTay Swift references, giggling and footsie they can stomach, and leave the show about two damaged hunters, who only have their brother to rely on alone?

(re) and (re)

This is perfect, my darling.

Exactly, this is not a 'wincestie' mindset, it's an actual fan of the show way of thinking.

That's why when I see hellers declare themselves FANS OF SPN, I seriously doubt it, since their "idea" of the show isn't what is presented to the rest of us.