#and yes people have pointed out that cas has always been fascinated with the world and humans and all of gods creation

[cthulhum]

and dean winchester thought he was unlovable and didnt deserve happiness he hated himself and thought eveyone would eventually leave him and then a literal fucking angel fell in love with him. like loved him more than anything else in the world.

[cynthiav06]

A friend of mine pointed out that people tend to date those with similarities to their parents.

When I started poking around the PJO franchise, my brain screamed that when I looked at Annabeth and then Gabe. And now I'm thinking about how Rachel may have similarities to Sally.

Please share Perachel thoughts.

This is so GOOD. I am only mad I didn't make the connection first. Percy is a mama's boy, so it's obvious his first girlfriend is a reflection of Sally. Bear with me, this is going to be LONG.

I am going to gloss over the bit about Annabeth and Gabe because it's not as much of a comparison as it is an analogy.

[Before anybody gets mad at anon, he wasn't saying Annabeth is like Gabe, he is paralleling them because Annabeth's form of mistreatment against Percy is so subtle but so deeply unsettling that he hasn't noticed it himself and if he has been feeling suffocated he hasn't yet connected the feeling to Annabeth.]

I feel compelled to clarify a few things in Gabe Annabeth comparison and why it's unfair.

Gabe was in no way, shape, or form Percy's parent.

Percy despises anything remotely related to Gabe like alcohol or poker, so Percy would never be with someone who, even for a second, reminds Percy of Gabe.

Gabe was exploitative of Sally, heavily so with no love or affection attached to it.

Annabeth, on the other hand, does love Percy. She, however, does not love him the way he deserves to be loved because her fatal flaw and a few toxic traits get in her way. For example, Annabeth has a habit of taking Percy for granted and is not appreciative of his efforts. She shows toxic possessiveness over him and almost always gets physical with Percy due to her lack of control over her emotions and not knowing how to express them well enough. She has consistently shown a poor understanding of Percy's motivations and his choices and has a habit of putting blame on Percy in several unnecessary situations. Character development would have served us all well but it doesn't seem very likely because Rick is Rick and Annabeth's fatal flaw is hubris, which means she is unlikely to acknowledge her toxic traits.

Now, back to our main point. Let's look at some direct or indirect parallels between Sally and Rachel and some things that deviate from the mold of Sally's experiences.

Rachel, I think, has always paralleled Sally. She is a mortal born with the sight, something that Sally herself has gone through. Rachel is Sally's past, and Sally is Rachel's future in a way, at least when it comes to their sight. Yet their final choices contrast each other, which is very fascinating.

Sally is a writer, and Rachel is an artist. They both have creative interests and aspirations. They are both naturally compassionate and kind but also very strong-willed.

What Poseidon was to Sally, Percy is to Rachel, and I think I really like that parallel. Maybe in another life, Sally would have said yes to Poseidon's offer, and in another life, Rachel would have turned down the Spirit of Delphi and pursued Percy, and Percy would have pursued her.

(They represent the pathway to an entirely new world to both Sally and Rachel, and its a feeling you cherish forever.)

Remember how being in the rain or near the sea makes Sally look younger and healthier, I think Rachel has a similar connection to the things Percy is connected with. After meeting him, she does seem to like beaches more. Considering her vacation spot was a beach and she also went on a beach date with Percy.

(You might think Percy chose that date spot, but it was obviously Rachel cause Percy is a gentleman who would definitely let his partner choose the date spots and then prepare the date for them as they like)

Her visions begin revolving around Percy, and Percy himself begins dreaming often of her. Not just visions but in general. It is stated in Botl that he dreamed of running into her again and not being able to answer her questions.

Another thing is that Sally parallels Rachel in case of emotional nuances between her and Poseidon and Rachel and Percy. Even after all these years, Sally trusts that Poseidon will not abandon Percy and will protect him when it comes to it, even after her death; especially after her death. The same way Rachel is comfortable in calling Percy whenever she is in trouble or when the visions are bothering her [I think we get a mention of how Percy has met with Rachel's father in The Last Olympian and how Rachel's father TRUSTS Percy's word about keeping Rachel SAFE.] And for the shippers, he has already met the parents and they approve lol.

The trust goes both ways, too. Cause we know Percy is an extremely private person and doesn't like to share anything about himself unless he is obligated too and even then sparingly. Even after being friends with him for so many years, Annabeth and Grover are in dark about a lot of things about him but Rache who has canonically had visions about Percy and his experiences, who has the power to tap into Percy's past and Percy is just so chill with that. Like he knows Rachel knows cause he has had several visions of his own about her, but he just lets it go.

Percy Jackson of all people TRUSTS Rachel enough to let her peek into his past experiences, hell it's because of her that he uncovered the true meaning of the prophecy and then TRUSTED HER WORDS ENOUGH TO STAKE THE FATE OF THE WORLD ON IT. We all know he hates Luke like no one else has hated Luke ever and yet GIVES Luke the knife, not cause of Annabeth's or Hermes's trust in him [they have both been wrong before] but because RACHEL SAID SO.

Another thing that's reminiscent of Sally's relationship with Poseidon is the fact that Sally was in no delusion of who she was with. No delusion of Poseidon being anything other than what he was, a force of nature and a god. He was kind and soft with her, but she was not disillusioned to his other natures. The same goes for Rachel.

Rachel doesn't expect Percy to be some tamed down version of himself or for him to suppress his impulses or nature. He is soft and nice to her. She appreciates it, but she doesn't expect nor want him to be anything other than what he is. As evidenced by the lovely painting she gives him of Percy looking fearsome against his battle with Antaeus. It was such a sight that Percy himself was jarred, but Rachel said he looked good. She was totally fine with his darkside, accepted it, and understood it.

Rachel also has a very positive relationship with things Percy is passionate about. She has a keen sense for environmental conservation as we see her participating in a charity work (actual volunteering) in BoTL and we know how sensitive Percy is on rivers or oceans being unclean.

She also seems to have a great bond with Percy's companions. Like you are telling me Blackjack, who has trauma of his time with being captive on Princess Andromeda under Luke, and who is fiercely loyal to Percy, let Rachel just order him into going to CHB like that. Obviously, Blackjack likes her enough to let her take him without Percy's explicit permission and without informing Percy because he knows his boss cares about her. I don't know how we, as a fandom, moved on from that scene. It's so beautiful that Rachel is able to connect to Blackjack so seamlessly. And how one of Percy's first thoughts is worrying about Rachel's well-being as soon as he finds out.

Don't even get me started on how him, including Nico and Hades in his wish and demanding justice and respect for children of Hades, is what broke the curse on the Oracle. I think Percy knew what Rachel was going to do or what her role was due to him seeing the visions of May Castellan, and don't tell me he didn't include Nico in his wish for that reason as well. And he was still so panicked when Rachel swore the oath to Apollo, despite the curse already being broken.

There's also a point of how they are both very integral part of Olympus and quite above the others in terms of hierarchy. Percy is the twice savior of Olympus. Several gods owe him a favor, and he is the prince of Atlantis. Rachel is the vessel of Spirit of Delphi, a force that has existed before even the gods. The Olympians need her, the demigods need her, and she is under the protection of Zeus himself. The two most important people in the world exempting gods and other immortals are literally them.

This is why it bothers me when people say Perachel is a big what if. Perachel isn't a what-if. It already happened. It simply didn't last. Not because they didn't want to but because the choice was taken from them. But both Percy and Rachel chose to save the world and chose to do the duty expected of them over dooming the world and being in a relationship. Destiny is inherently unjust as it were. The only what if's are what if they chose to defy expectations and rules and got back together anyway.

The Savior of Olympus and the Oracle of Delphi are a perfect match, but fate would not let it be. Perhaps in another world, they would have cared less about the fate of the world or less about defying Olympus. Maybe when Percy becomes immortal, he will finally get a chance to be with Rachel. In my headcanons, that is how it goes. I admit I like the dynamic of the strongest demigod ever and the Oracle herself teaming up. It's not like anyone can top that duo. The power couple that they would have been, the fandom is not ready for it.

[poppetsisters]

Hi, amateur Jack Kirby scholar here. While this is a great quote, I want to elaborate on Jack Kirby's political philosophy, because it's something I don't think anyone would've expected.

The quote this came from is Groth's legendary interview with Jack Kirby for The Comics Journal #134 (February 1990), published only four years before Kirby's death.

The context of the answer comes from Jack's opinion on the Senate Subcommittee Hearings:

GROTH: How did you feel about the Senate Subcommittee Hearings? Did you think that was a witch-hunt, or did you think there was any validity to the public’s concern? KIRBY: I didn’t feel one way or another about it. I was only hoping that it would come out well enough to continue comics, that it wouldn’t damage comics in anyway, so I could continue working. I was a young man. I was still growing out of the East Side. The only real politics I knew was that if a guy liked Hitler, I’d beat the stuffing out of him and that would be it.

This leads Groth to ask about Jack's opinion on communism.

KIRBY: Oh, communism! That was a burning issue. It was an outrageous issue. To be termed a communist would damage your whole family, damage your whole world — your friends wouldn’t talk to you. I’m talking about other people — because I wouldn’t go near the stuff. Sure, I was against the reds. I became a witch hunter. My enemies were the commies — I called them commies. In fact, Granny Goodness was a commie, Doubleheader was a commie. GROTH: What was it about communism that you didn’t like? KIRBY: Well, it was a radical concept to me. Like any other American, I wasn’t sophisticated enough to study all its facets. All I knew about it was it was foreign to democracy. And here I was, I had been fighting for democracy and always aware of two political parties and brought up in that kind of atmosphere. Anything radical was dangerous to me, as it was to the average American. Nobody knew where a thing like that would lead and we were always afraid of chaos. So communism became the doorway to chaos, and the doorway to chaos was the doorway to evil. Your family might be hurt. Your friends might be hurt. You didn’t want to see a thing like that.

Something about Jack's answer fascinates me to no end. Clearly he's made his stance that he doesn't like communism, but the reason why is the kicker! He doesn't actually know what communism is, in fact he's very self-aware that he doesn't understand it. He only seems to hate communism because of what happened to people that believe in it, which sounds more like he has a problem with how his society handled communism than the philosophy itself.

In fact, he has a lot more negative things to say about the man who initiated the witch hunts in the first place:

GROTH: How did you feel about McCarthy? KIRBY: I didn’t like McCarthy. I didn’t like his methods. I liked this other fellow — he was a gray-haired man from Maine I believe. He sat opposite McCarthy and challenged him. Walsh was his name.

Jack is likely referring to Joseph N. Welch, who is from Iowa, not Maine. Welch's question "Have you no sense of decency, sir, at long last?", is seen as a turning point in the history of McCarthyism.

GROTH: Was he the one who asked McCarthy if he had no shame? KIRBY: Yes. He sounded more logical to me, more temperate. You didn’t feel like the stormtroopers were going to knock on your door the next day when you listened to this guy. When you listened to McCarthy, you knew they were going to drag you away, or your parents. McCarthy sounded like a threat, and if you didn’t fit certain specifications as an American —he laid down the specifications, he laid down the rules. That’s what put the fear into everybody, because all of us are afraid that we’re not going to fit certain rules. McCarthy put the fear of the devil into the entire public. When Walsh began to talk, he began to make sense. He talked not exactly like a statesman but a rational human being. McCarthy was a hunter. McCarthy didn’t care who he shot in the woods. But he was getting prestige. He wanted something, and he was going to get it any way he could even if he cut you down. Walsh wasn’t like that at all. Walsh was a man who discussed issues and who discussed McCarthy’s demeanor. Walsh was a guy who threw cold water on McCarthy and reminded him he was just a politician with just the ambitions of a politician, and he was never going to be a Hitler. It was reflected in the newspapers to me that the public was regaining its confidence because there was going to be chaos and that was a big fear.

It really does sound like Jack hated McCarthy more than he did Communism. Though Kirby admits to his lack of knowledge on communism, he has an excellent ear for fascism. I have to imagine Granny Goodness being a commie was more a reference to Joesph Stalin than anything else. In case there's still some doubt, Jack also drops this quote earlier in the interview

KIRBY: I knew this much — that everybody voted Democrat down my way. If you were poor, you voted Democrat and if you were rich you voted Republican.

So we've established that Kirby is, at the very least, left of centre, but Jack Kirby's production assistant and author of Kirby: The King of Comics, Mark Evanier, claims that he also had something to say about Objectivism.

This particular anecdote comes from the article A Failure To Communicate: Part Four by Mike Gartland, published in The Jack Kirby Collector #24 (April 1999):

According to Mark Evanier (based on conversations he had with Kirby), Jack originally intended for this storyline (Fantastic Four #67) to represent his take on the Objectivist philosophy. What Jack had read of Ayn Rand and had explained to him had gotten him to thinking about the philosophy and its pitfalls (some, of course, will dispute that there are pitfalls in it and that is their right), which led him to do a story about it. Jack probably did not consciously think, "Here's my answer to Ayn Rand"; his primary goal was, as always, to just write a good story. But in Jack's original story, the scientists are well-intentioned, with no evil plans. They are attempting to create a being totally self-sufficient, intellectually self-reliant; not encumbered by superstition, fear, or doubt; in short, a being based on Rand's absolutes. Of course such a being would be totally intolerant of those who created him; a truly Objectivistic being would not cope with the flaws in others.

As the article would go on to state, and what you would know from reading Fantastic Four #67, is that this plot never made it to print. To my knowledge, Kirby himself never confirmed nor denied the events described by Mark, but Evanier is one of the best secondary sources you could get on Jack Kirby's career, especially after 1969.

But nothing beats the man himself, and if you know Kirby, you know that he puts himself into his work constantly. Even if his words are edited by forces out of his control, his actions speak much louder. My advice: Find Kirby in his art, and the meaning between the panels.

[verobatto]

It's Always been You.

I love you

Destiel Meta. 15x18 meta.

Keeping the fire burning in our hearts, i can't believe what we just saw last night, and i have to keep screaming about this historical scene.

I wrote this meta with my friend's huge help @mrsaquaman187 , because we needed to talk more about body language. Because the scene was perfectly played by Jensen and Misha.

And i want to say thank you to my dearest friend @spnsmile because she made amazing gifs for this analysis. Love you girl!

Before start this meta, i want you to read a meta i wrote two years ago, and i want to share it again with you today.

Break the jar and do it again. The slow construction of Destiel Canon

Okay, now, let's start this journey...

Castiel's honesty at his purest form

I will analyze word by word, because this is historical, as I said before. So, let's rewatch the scene together, the scene in which Castiel released himself, and allowed for the first time, to be happy. (I want my angel back 😭).

“I always wondered, ever since I took that that burden, that curse, I wondered what it could be, what...what my true happiness could even look like. I never found an answer. Because the one thing I want...it's something I know I can't have."

Well, my friends, as I yelled in my Destiel meta you can find here, is canon now that Castiel was wondering what would it be to have Dean not just as a friend, but as a lover, and I'm.... Okay. (Internally screaming).

And damn @weird-dorky-little-deana and her post here in which I screamed again, this is it, my friends. Is perfect. Because is all along what I was suspecting... Remember 14x09, Pamela represented Dean's fem side, Dean's subconscious, so, in conclusion, Pamela was Dean talking to himself and saying :YOU WANT WHAT YOU CAN'T HAVE. Is because Dean thought CAS didn't love him back, and Cas saying he can't have Dean is a huge parallel because it shows the way it was constructed. Both men thinking they can't have each other. Is perfect and angsty and so romantic.

"But I think i know...I think I know now. Happiness isn't in the having. It's in just being. It's in just saying it.”

This is such a deep thought and it talks about Castiel's maturity of character. He understood once for all, that loving Dean Winchester, feeling what he feels for him, and expressing that to Dean, is his true happiness. Because...

METATRON: "(...) You draped yourself in the flag of Heaven, but ultimately, it was all about saving one human. Right?"

Dean didn't know it

Dean: “What are you talking about, man?”

Dean's question shows us he didn't know what Cas was trying to say, he didn't know Cas was about to confess his love for him, he didn't know Castiel loves him back the same way Dean loves him.

Cas: “I know. I know how you see yourself, Dean. You see yourself the same way our enemies see you. You're destructive and you're angry and you're broken. You're...you're 'Daddy's Blunt Instrument.' And you think hate and anger, that's...that's what drives you. That's who you are. It's not. And everyone who knows you sees it.

I just have to put everything in red because, OMG, people, this is Cas in the barn all over again but after 11 years of being with him and truly sees through him, and this is Cas in the golden room:

CASTIEL: What is so worth saving? I see nothing but pain here. I see inside you. I see your guilt, your anger, confusion.

This time answering himself, this time, healing all the weight and the pain Dean could carry inside. Because Dean deserves to be saved. That's why Cas gave his life again for him.

Even now, with Billie outside saying IT AS ALWAYS BEEN YOU, and naming him like the rebel, Cas rewords all of that, and shows Dean why he is all of that, because he is GOOD.

Oh Lord, okay, everytime I see Cas smiling and saying those words i have to repress my tears, but...

"Since Castiel laid a hand on you in Hell, he was lost!"

No, sister, he was found.

Castiel is rewording each bad comment or mocking angels had done based on his romantic love for Dean, he is saying , yes since I met you in Hell, i was found, you changed me, I fell for you. Damn... Dean go get back this angel because I swear...

But now, i want to share with you my friend reading about their body language on this scene.

@mrsaquaman187 wrote:

"Here is interesting because usually with conversations like these Dean would get upset or strut around then disagree and blame himself for something. BUT he doesn’t do that this time. Which leads me to believe he knew what Cas was going to say... you can see his face stiffen, intense eye contact and he clenches his jaw. Which tells me he is MAKING himself listen. He knows what’s coming and he has made the decision to HEAR it."

@mrsaquaman187 wrote:

Gif 1:

"Here he’s trying to hold it together. He’s swallowing back tears because he wants to see this conversation through to the end."

Gif 2:

"Oh this one is fascinating because he’s not moving. This means he’s no longer trying to be sure of what Cas is saying. He definitely knows what he’s going to say. Also if you look at his eyes, his pupils are dialated. Fun fact: when you’re looking at someone you love, your pupils dialate."

If you are still alive, i just want to point how romantic is this, because he is saying that Dean changed him for good. And he is naming all their family, Sam, Jack, and humanity, the world. Dean. So practically, Cas is saying, Dean showed Cas how to take care of others. Damn...

But also....

ISHIM: The way you let those simians talk to you... Castiel, when did you get so gooey? You know why we're meant to stay away from them humans? Hmm? It's not because we're a danger to them. They're a danger to us. Case in point.

CAS: Well, my friendship with Sam and Dean has made me stronger.

Castiel rewording again, because he knows what Dean did on him, Dean changed him for good.

I Love You

@mrsaquaman187 wrote:

Gif 1:

"Hmmm this one is a mixture of disappointment and denile...he’s basically thinking “you can’t be leaving me again”. His slow blinking and calm appearance indicates that he’s sort of asking out of disbelief or denial."

Gif 2:

"My poor boy had so much to say! Here you can tell he realizes what Cas was saying...he gets the meaning but can’t get his response out. He starts with the head tilt which signifies endearment and fondness. He swallows hard which represents the nervousness he feels and the sadness he feels. And then you can see his lips twitch and turn into a light smile along with his eyes softening. So he understands that Cas is confessing to loving him. And he understands that Cas has been holding it in and hurting the whole time. Which is why he tilts his head. The hard swallow is because he’s being loved but wants to love back and has no idea how to express that. All he could manage was “don’t do this Cas” which along with the body language equals to “Cas don’t leave me”.

I'm crying again, damn...

Okay Dean is shocked, shocked because he just figured out Cas loves him, Cas had loved him this whole time!! Is a huge, huge revelation to him, because Dean didn't imagine his best friend would feel the same for him! That's why he always thought he couldn't have Castiel the way he wanted to.

"I can see the love inside of you, but is croaked in shame."

Shame because it was his best friend, a pure, beautiful angel, out of his league. But now... This angel is confessing he had been in love with him the whole time! And not just that but he dies after that!

Dean losing again the love of his life after knowing he loved him back, is a new level of shock and despair to him. So Dean's reaction is just accurate and perfect!

And the scene crying alone in silence, not answering Sammy's phone call is SO SO IMPORTANT! He forgot about Chuck, about the world ending, about everything, because he only could think about Cas, and how he just lost him, and how he loves him the way Dean loves him, this whole freaking time.

To Conclude:

This was the most beautiful Destiel scene until now, and i only hope for the second Destiel canon scene, in which Dean will said I LOVE YOU TOO to his angel, closing his ILY journey, and rescuing Castiel. Maybe with the reset button, maybe entering into the Empty. But this is not the end, my friends, is just their starting.

Hugs! Love you all!

Tagging @metafest @gneisscastiel @emblue-sparks @magnificent-winged-beast @weird-dorky-little-deana @michyribeiro @whyjm @legendary-destiel @a-bit-of-influence @thatwitchydestielfan @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @lykanyouko @evvvissticante @savannadarkbaby @dea-stiel @mybonsai1976 @anarchiana @angelwithashotgunandtrenchcoat @trashblackrainbow @destielshipper221b @mishtho @dancingtuesdaymorning @feathered-castiel @bre95611 @zoerayne2426 @justmeand-myinsight @that-one-fandom-chick @proccastinate @studio-hatter @pepevons @poorreputation @mrsaquaman187 @dizzypinwheel @jawnlockwinchester @dwstiel @thislunarkiss @ladygon @shippsblog @la-random-fangirl @lets-try-this-again-please @mychemicalobsession514 @destiel-shipper-11

@asphodelesauvage @2musiclover2

Buenos Aires November 6th 8:54 PM

[hopefullystillatheatrestudent]

okay so i’ve been going crazy these past few days. all about cockles/jensmish and obsessively watching their panels or reading the transcripts BECAUSE. THEY ARE LOUD. LIKE. i saw some fancams on twt and i thought people were just exaggerating but noooooooooo!!!???? so, getting to the point. you said that how do we know that jensen is performing masculinity? because jared isn’t and THAT IS A BIG BRAIN MOMENT. ON POINT. I CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH. a particular moment from gag reel that jumps out (which you’ve talked about) when jensen goes ‘cas, you are my baby daddy’ and misha goes, ‘i know i love you too’ and jensen goes, ‘i didn’t say i love you’ and misha goes, ‘i know you wanted to’ and jensen says, ‘i love you’ WHAT THE FUCK! that was NOT a joke. yes, people took it as a joke and had a good laugh BUT I HAVE WATCHED IT TOO MANY TIMES AND IT LIVES IN MY MIND RENT FREE BECAUSE IT WAS NOT A PERFORMANCE. THAT WAS JENSEN. THAT WAS MISHA. jensen has a had trouble with the pda and being all touch feely (the breakup theory) and he gradually grew into it, accepted it and misha was right there all along, never pushed it. it was like a deancas au but tbh, 99% of destiel is because of cockles and we all know it. i just. jensen has latched onto dean as an emotional support because he tunes with it. understands it. projects on to it. yeah, i just had to say it and get it off my chest. (and what about those poetry pages on instagram? alma? what is your opinion?) btw, you have a lovely blog and your analysis are right on target.

so there is a LOT i’m going to address here(how dare you bring up [gunshot] i HAVE to talk about it now) so again!!!! under a cut it goes but i hope you appreciate my rambles anon it seems like you do :,)

1. jared vs. jensen and performing masculinity. hell yeah man. jared and jensen are both just ‘guys from texas’ but they are still so vastly different. today i actually had a revelation that i’m pretty sure has to do with me being bi. and it’s that i have a group of straight friends(that i love dearly but they care too much about hockey and pitbull imo could not be me) and i have a group of queer friends(who are also batshit[affectionate]). and it’s like whichever group i hang out with a different side of me emerges? they’re both me, it’s just that certain aspects of who i am as a person only surface depending on who i am around. however, i will say i feel like i watch what i say around my straight friends more. i see that very clearly in jensen as well. around jared during panels and on set, he’s definitely putting on an air of machismo and engages in typical guy talk. i do think an element of it is performative, because he wants validation from jared that they’re still just two dudes from texas taking on the world together despite his sexual identity. does that make any sense??? i hope so. but when he’s with misha he is an entirely different person and his sense of humour becomes wildly different. the machismo fades away, he’s way less caught up in what people think about him, lets his guard down, etc. to go back to my original point which is how j2 are different in that regard....jared does not do this. he is a constant. he does not flip a switch between ‘performing masculinity’ and ‘not’ because he isn’t performing any part of who he is. he just IS. so yeah these two are similar in many regards but there’s somewhat of a dissonance between them when it comes to how they perform masculinity because one of them is putting on a show and the other is merely being.

2. that crypt scene blooper(here just in case you need to see it again. do it. as a treat.) when i tell you i have easily seen this over thirty times??? since it first came out??? i mean it. it is such an overlooked(r*mantic) moment and it means so much more than people think it does. i’ve talked about the context behind it, and i think that’s why this blooper was so meaningful, so i’ll mention it again. jensen and misha had a LOT of trouble with this scene. the reason is that jensen couldn’t wrap his head around why dean would be saying these things, if i remember correctly, and both of them sat down and scoured over how they should play it for a while before filming(teamwork ;) teammates *ahem*). [to be honest we all know why jensen had a hard time with that scene and it is because it is blatantly romantic. rip to him but i would simply give in to it at that point but oh well] so anyway, their heads were scattered going into shooting, which is NEVER a good headspace to be in for a scene, ESPECIALLY not a pivotal one. but they had each other to help them through said weird energy on set that couldn’t possibly have invoked the best feelings, especially considering jensen STILL doesn’t think he played that correctly(but he praised misha on his performance :,) ). and with that context every single part of that video hits haRD 

-’stop pulling my face towards your crotch’ i think this is objectively hilarious because it really really looks like jensen is pulling HIMSELF towards misha’s crotch. again, you’re fooling no one, jensen. misha’s wheezing laugh and the way he wraps himself around jensen is also,,,sweet??? like i don’t know how else to describe how i see it but this moment really reads as jensen, in his weird ‘constructing elaborate rituals’ way is asking for security through a physical touch from misha and he happily obliges and gives jensen what he needs. because i mean...watch it again. jensen ‘fights back’, but not really at all, actually. pretty wimpy counterattack. he literally lets himself be smothered by misha, and i would literally describe what they end up doing as cuddling. 

-’i need you, cas. you’re my baby daddy’ i love having an actor’s perspective on things bc i think i can explain what’s going on here. jensen just delivered what was(in his own mind) a rotten take of the lines he’s most scared of delivering. so the scene was already messed up. therefore; ensuing fuckery is warranted to help him feel better. but there’s also for sure more than meets the eye for what he says here because of misha’s reaction after??? like he seemed genuinely touched. first of all, he’s saying ‘you’re my baby daddy’ as half-jensen, but not necessarily dean either(because he didn’t say the previous lines as true to his character...you get it), to misha, not cas. i think i’ve made this point before, but every single innuendo in the gag reels is to misha specifically, never once cas. therefore; logical conclusion: ‘you’re my baby daddy’ was for misha and it meant something deeper than we think because of what follows it

-this part. jensen’s giddy ass smile after he sees misha crack and then misha says ‘yeah, i know’ (can i just say his voice when he says this is so intimate???? like am i intruding guys??? sorry i’ll let myself out) also he is smiling SO BIG

- ‘i know’ ‘why are you laughing?’ ‘no i know i love you too’ this analysis is already so long but i still want to get into what THAT whole exchange means. ‘why are you laughing?’ to me sounds like jensen’s pretending to be affronted by misha laughing at something that is serious. and it’s serious because he quite literally meant ‘i love you’. he did. misha knows it. misha’s really REALLY good at cutting the bs and just getting to what people are actually trying to say. he has an innate sharpness to his sense of humour. so yes, misha is being 100% accurate when he says ‘i know, but you wanted to say it.’ misha isn’t lying here. jensen did want and mean to say ‘i love you’. and then he actually does say it(in a jokey way but not really). 

- so yeah. it is actually so romantic??? like in a weird way jensen was professing his love for misha here?????? and that’s why this clip will NEVER. ever. get old. 

3. jensen having trouble with pda and projecting onto dean: we can all call ourselves dean coded cas girls but NO one deserves that title more than jensen ackles himself. he is dean winchester but marginally less repressed because he actually did admit he was in love with his best friend and let himself be happy, and pretty early on too. one year and two months as opposed to twelve years. so. happy deancas au is correct. and yes about the pda thing: one day i want to write my own post about both of their body language when it comes to each other, but all i can tell is jensen, even in the early days, couldn’t help himself from flirting with misha, but if misha ever crossed a line, jensen would not be happy. clearly he’s come around, however. what i find sweet is that misha always follows jensen’s lead when it comes to how much affection they’re allowed to show each other onstage. it touches my soul

4. destiel is cockles fault. yeah. and the thing is everyone knows it, too. even non-cockles shippers will explain early destiel as entirely dependant on jensen and misha’s wild chemistry. and that chemistry is easily explained by the fact that misha and jensen are literally just wildly horny bisexuals who were crazily attracted to one another and were falling in love on screen before our very eyes. and when you have THAT insider info(which sounds cray doesn’t it!!!! the destiel actors are in love irl??? huh???) everything really does click into place. why destiel got SO popular when the show and actors never ever intended for it to happen.(i know some people think misha was playing cas as gay the whole time for shits and giggles, and i won’t deny that[especially considering he found out early on that destiel was why he was staying on the show], but i don’t think he really wanted it to amount to anything, nor did he care??? i mean he has the real thing with jensen, for one, so their characters aren’t really as important. for two, he loves joking about destiel because it’s a cultural phenomenon and it’s fascinating, and i’m sure he did ship it because he’s unhinged, but i don’t think it was vastly important to him either way.) destiel got popular because everyone was and is unintentionally reading into the real deal. i could pull up countless gifs that people have used as destiel proof that is actually just jensen and misha being messy. mainly jensen. if i’m being honest.  the symbiotic relationship between destiel and cockles is why i’ve stayed onboard the destielcule and shellerscape for three solid months now; because it is utterly fascinating to witness and kind of super beautiful, too. 

5. alma(and others). so. i do NOT want to really REALLY get into this in its entirety here and now so i will just give you my opinion on if i think alma is misha or not. also; i don’t want to mention the other poetry accounts here bc i feel like that’s a bigger breach in privacy, but a lot of people do know about alma now. way too many, actually. this is why we can’t have nice things. anyway-to answer your question-there is absolutely no doubt in my mind that yes, misha is running that alma poetry account. i am 100% certain. some people think it’s actually three people and they’re all connected to misha in some way but that is so needlessly complicated. as it goes in psychology; the easiest explanation is probably the right one. it’s just one person running that account, and it is misha collins. i don’t know why it’s so hard to believe KNOWN POET misha collins(who is known to spend most of his free time writing poetry anyway) would have created a secret poetry account to write about his intense secret relationship under an alias and also get legitimate feedback since no one used to know it was him. oh and the handwriting is identical??? you are blind if you do not see that i am sorry. and a million other things prove it’s misha too but yeah all you need to know is yes. it’s him. it would take a literal livestream from a random woman on that account to convince me otherwise. and honestly not even that because a random woman could technically still log in if misha asked her too. so. it would take a hell of a lot to convince me otherwise, clearly. that said DO NOTTTTTTTTTTTT GO ONTO THAT ACCOUNT WITH A SUPERNATURAL RELATED USERNAME AND COMMENT THINGS THAT ARE COCKLES RELATED. ARE YOU BRAIN DEAD WHY WOULD YOU THINK THAT’S OKAY. sorry i got heated but god please just don’t be dumb so many people have already gone way too far 

6. thank you for your lovely compliment on my analyses!!! i love doing them but i don’t know if people actually like reading them so i really appreciate it

[wormstacheangel]

Almost: Ch 5

Chapter Summary:  Dean hides in Cas's childhood bedroom during the funeral reception. He quickly finds himself having a nice conversation with Mick and - fuck- the dude's actually nice.

Read on tumblr Ch 1 link | Ch 2 link | Ch 3 link | Ch 4 link |

or read it on AO3 link (maybe leave a nice comment?)

Word Count: 2468 More Under The Cut

“Ah, this is where you’ve been hiding.” 

Dean was sprawled across Cas’s old twin bed, one leg swinging off the edge as he laid on his back holding up one of his old X-Men comics. He muttered a “Fuck” under his breath as he put the book down on his chest before looking up at Mick. The happy husbands-to-be walked in and closed the door behind him.

While Dean wasn't a big fan of the Novak clan - they weren’t so hot of Winchesters and company either - Sam and Charlie couldn’t give a rat’s ass. They both stayed downstairs with Balthazar who’s been the only one to welcome them in. Finding them ‘fascinating’. Whatever the hell that meant. But they were having a good time and Dean wasn’t going to rain on their parade just cause he wasn’t in the mood to mingle.

Instead, he hid in a familiar room, Cas’s childhood bedroom, that looked practically untouched. Even their old snack drawer was still filled with old Halloween candy wrappers. 

“Making yourself at home?” Mick asked as he looked around the room. His hands touching the items on the desk. “Oh, didn’t know Castiel read comic books.”

Dean sat up as he ran his hand nervously through his hair. “He - um, well - he doesn’t. I mean he does but he won’t buy them himself. Those are all mine.”

Mick looked at him, eyebrows pushed together as he squinted. “You brought comic books to read?”

“No!” Dean put the comic book he was reading down on the bed as he stood up to walk over to the bookshelf behind the door. He motioned towards the middle row. “These are all mine. I used to bring them so when Cas had to study I wasn’t so bored in his room.”

“Ah.” Was all he said as he looked back at the desk. “So you two spent a lot of time together?”

Dean shrugged, his hands awkwardly digging into his pant pockets. “Yeah, I guess. We did go to high school together.”

“Yes,” Mick looked over at Dean, a bright smile on his face as if he was excited that he knew something about Cas. “His first public school experience! He told me.”

Dean awkwardly chuckled. “Yeah, he got in real trouble when Chuck found out he forged his signature.”

“What?” 

“Cas! He um, he forged Chuck’s signature on the school papers.” Dean laughed remembering and walking back to sit on the bed while Mick looked at him, eyes sparkling in curiosity. Dean hated it. “Yeah,” He cleared his throat. “Um, Gabriel and Raphael helped him keep the whole thing a secret from Chuck for almost two years. It wasn’t until Cas got suspended that-”

“Castiel got suspended! He never told me!” Mick grabbed the desk chair and moved it closer to Dean. He looked happy to know more things about Cas and Dean felt himself relax just a little. As much as he was jealous - he was practically hulking out by how damn green he was - he was glad that Mick actually seemed to care about Cas. “Well, go on, Dean.”

“Oh, yeah.” Dean blinked a few times to catch his thoughts. His face blushing at the memory. “Shit, well, Cas got into a fight.”

“A fight?!”

“Yeah!” Dean laughed. “Some guys were messing with me. Just some dumb guy shit, you know. And someone must have called Cas cause all I remember is my nose cracking under a fist and then seeing the dude get tackled down. Like Cas full-on body slammed that dude to the ground!” Dean’s face hurt from the big grin that stretched over his lips. “Then he was screaming! Man, it was some sight! Never seen him so damn rabid like that since but I had to drag him off the guy before he really gave the guy a concussion.”

“My Castiel did that?” Mick sat back in his chair, in amazement and shock while Dean tried to hide the flinch from those words. Rolling his shoulders back before rubbing at the back of his neck. 

“Sure did.” Dean nodded before slowly standing up. “Well, we should head back down-”

“You know,” Mick sighed as he looked down at his hands. “I always feel that Castiel keeps me at a distance. As if he’s still guarding his heart from me.”

Dean falls back on the bed with a huff. For fucks sake, he really doesn’t want to play counselor to a guy he wants to hate. He could easily do the fake nice guy act and tell Mick that maybe Cas just doesn’t love him. That Cas was just a nice guy who has a hard time saying no to people and while that’s true he really doubts that’s why Cas said yes to him. Cas said yes because he loves this pathetic looking guy and Dean just wants him to be happy. 

Even if it’s not with him. 

Though Mick looked like he already trusted Dean wholeheartedly and it would be so easy - No!

Dean sighed as he scrubbed a hand down his face. Knowing damn well he was gonna regret playing nice but the guilt of being a part of hurting Cas would feel a shit ton worse. “Mick, man, Cas is complicated.” 

Mick looked at him with soft round eyes. He was being sincere as fuck and it was annoying. “Not to you.”

“I had practice.” Dean smugly smiled and gave Mick a wink. “Cas is like - fuck how do you even describe that crazy asshole?”

Mick laughed, relaxing into his chair more. “I guess like that but I wouldn’t say he was an asshole.”

Dean laughed and reached to pat Mick on the shoulder. “Oh, then you really don’t know him! If he hasn’t kicked you out of his car in the middle of a rainstorm because you offended his favorite character then just count yourself lucky.”

“He did that to you?” His eyes widened in shock.

“Twice.” Dean held up the two fingers with a grin. “Had to walk home too because he didn’t come back for me.”

Mick and Dean both laughed. 

Fuck. Dean thought as he saw the guy wipe tears from his eyes from laughing. Mick really is a great guy and now Dean just wants to help him. If it means he could make Cas happy then that’s all that mattered. He can at least do that for his old best friend. 

“He’s an old soul.” Dean continued and pointed at the bookshelf again. “You can check out the rest of the books and see they’re all classics. He won’t admit to it but he also likes cheesy YA books.”

Mick got up to check out the bookshelf, his eyes scanning it up and down before he reached for a random book that caught his eyes. 

“He’s a grumpy old man mostly. He hates being wrong and would fight you tooth and nail to prove his point.”

Mick looked up at him and shook his head. “I think me and you really do know two different, Castiels.”

Dean raises his eyebrows at that and hopes his heartbreak doesn’t show on his face. “Kinda curious on what your Cas is like.”

“He’s focused.” Mick nods stiffly at him before his face scrunches up. “That’s a sad first description of my fiance, isn’t it?”

Dean laughed before nodding. “Yeah, dude, it is.”

Mick looked so in love though as he smiled at Dean. “It’s stupid, Dean, but I just...since I met him I can’t think of anyone else.” 

No. No. I don’t want to hear this. Dean kept that smile on his face as he stood up to maybe distract Mick with a book. Cas usually had dumb bookmarks maybe he can talk about the pressed flowers.

“What about you, Dean?”

“What about me?”

“Did you feel the same when you got married?”

“When I got what?” Dean froze in the middle of the room but before Mick could ask again the door swung open. Shielding Mick from view.

Dean’s eyes meet the baby blue’s that made his stomach flip. 

Then Cas smiled at him and it wasn’t fair. He shouldn’t be smiling at him like that. Smiling as if Dean was his favorite damn person in the world. As if the hour separation from the last time he saw him was torture for him and seeing Dean was just pure relief. It wasn’t fair. 

“Dean.” Cas sighed, his shoulders dropping as his whole expression softened. He looked so relieved and happy to see him that Dean didn’t know what to do with himself. He just stood there like a dumbass as Cas ran into him. Crashing his whole body against Dean’s own and into a big comforting hug. 

Then Cas did this laugh - fuck it sounded so unrestrained and heartfelt that it made Dean feel like he was floating - as he hid his face against the crook of Dean’s neck. 

“I didn’t think you were going to come.” Cas quietly says and the relief in Cas’s voice left Dean more dumbfounded than he already was. 

“Wow! Am I getting one of those hugs too, sweetheart?” There was a small strain to Mick’s happy tone.

Cas froze in Dean’s arms - he even heard the dumbass cuss into Dean’s skin - before he pulled away to look back at Mick. Then looked back at Dean, his dumb head tilt - thank god that didn’t change - and squinty eyes asking questions that Dean could hear clear as day.

Dean rolled his eyes. “We were just talking. Don’t get your damn panties in a twist, Cas.” 

“I was just asking.” Cas shrugged, a smile in his voice before he walked over to Mick. “I’m glad you two are getting along?”

Dean could hear the damn question in his voice and stuffed his hands in his pockets. His heart was still racing from the few seconds of having Cas so close again. Having him look at him like...like that.

Mick pulled Cas from around the waist and reached to kiss his cheek. It was sweet and Dean saw the red prick Cas’s cheeks. 

“We are. I never had a best friend before but I am jealous of your friendship.” Mick looked over at Dean. “Must be nice to have that deep connection with someone.”

Dean looked away. Instead gave his attention to the desk that still had another comic book with a chip bag folded inside to be used as a bookmark.

“Yes.” Cas quietly said before clearing his throat. “Um, why are you both in my room?”

“I just followed Dean here.” Mick quickly answered while Dean nervously ran his hand through his hair.

“You know me, Cas. I can’t stay too long with that creepy vampire clan you have as a family.” Dean winked at him while Cas rolled his eyes.

“Vampires?” Mick asked as he looked between them.

“They’re not vampires.” Cas said at the same time Dean said, “Yeah, you know, bat wings and fangs. The full Twilight!”

“We don’t have...Dean! Stop telling people my family is made up of vampires!”

“I’ll be more worried at the fact that people always easily believe me.” 

“Ah,” Mick awkwardly laughed as he wiggled a finger between Cas and Dean. “Is this like an inside joke?”

“No.” “Yes.”

Mick hummed as he dropped his hand. Clearly uncomfortable but he should try stepping into Dean’s shoes. 

“How was the burial?” Mick turned to smile at Cas, leaning in to kiss his shoulder, and Dean had to fight the urge to roll his eyes. 

Just cause he thought the dude was nice doesn’t mean he wants to see that shit. 

“It was fine. Nobody really talked.” Cas nodded, his eyes far away as he was thinking about it because he was unsure. Then he blinked a couple of times before turning to look at Dean again. “Which reminds me, Bobby and you are invited to Dad’s will reading tomorrow afternoon. Actually, invited is the wrong word. You guys have to be there in order for the testament to be read.”

“What?” Dean shuffled the weight on his feet awkwardly as he tried to process Cas’s words. “What - wait. Why do we have to be there?”

“I honestly don’t know.” Cas shrugged, “But I would steer clear of my brothers for a while. Probably Sam too. While Gabriel may think it’s funny, he is the only one. They already don’t particularly like you, Dean.”

“Yeah, Cas, I noticed.”

“Really? They like me.” Mick proudly said, cheeks high as he smiled.

“Shocker.” Dean muttered but by the look of Cas’s face, he must have not said it quietly enough. “Whatever. Maybe I’ll just get Sam and Charlie and go home.”

Cas tried to step forward towards Dean but he saw Mick’s grip around his waist tighten. Cas made a face but then he gave Dean one of those fake smiles. “Yeah, probably for the best. Don’t want Mike finding you and interrogating you all night.”

Dean nodded, biting the inside of his cheek before he gave them both the same cocky smile. “Yeah. Sounds like a plan then. I’ll head out then.”

Dean made his way out of the room, not wanting to meet the stare that was digging holes into him. He made it down the hall and was on the first step down the stairs when Cas called out to him. Dean turned around just when Cas stopped only a few inches away from him. From this angle, he can just take the next step up and have his lips pressed up against Cas’s skin. Against his lips. Pull him down for a kiss he desperately can’t stop selfishly thinking about. 

At least he can imagine he was brave enough to do that.

Instead, he looked down at the piece of paper that Cas was handing him. “Take it, Dean, it won’t bite.”

Dean takes it and looks to see it was Cas’s phone number written in quick handwriting. That dumbass even drew a little happy face. 

“Call me in the morning so I can give you all the details about tomorrow afternoon.”

Dean puts the paper in his pocket as he smiles up at Cas. “Sure, Cas. Thanks.”

Cas smiles back and Dean swears he blushes. Before Dean could enjoy the handsome sight, Cas ducks his head down to leave a kiss on Dean’s cheek. It was quick but it still felt lingering as it burned his skin.

“Night, Dean.” Cas whispers as he starts to walk away. “Um, and thanks for keeping Mick company. Give your family my best for me!”

Dean sucked in a shaky breath. “S-sure.”

Then he waves back at Cas, who looked like he was almost skipping before he disappeared back into his bedroom. Back to Mick.

[norahastuff]

You know, I think a really underrated and particularly relevant episode of Spn we don’t talk about enough is 10x19 The Werther Project. Berens did something very special with that one. Why all of this is relevant post 15x20, I’ll mention at the end, so feel free to skip to that if you don’t want to read the whole thing.

Dean, at this point is suffering from the effects of the Mark of Cain and is afraid he’s not going to be able to control it for much longer. He gets hit by a spell and gets trapped in his subconscious, which for Dean manifests as Purgatory and Benny. Dean’s not under any illusions, he figures out what’s happening and he knows that this isn’t real, and yet the conversation he has with Dream Benny is one of the most illuminating insights into Dean’s mind that we ever get on the show. It shows how remarkably aware Dean has always been. 

Dean and Benny keep walking in circles and ending up at the same place. Benny even makes a point to remark

Benny: Well, how about that? A perfect circle. Don’t look at me, chief. You chose the way.

Dean: Benny, whoever you are, I need to get out of here

Benny: “Need” and “Want” are just two different things, ain’t they?

Dean knows there’s a difference. He may use the words interchangeably, but he knows they don’t mean the same thing. 

It soon becomes clear what the point of all this is: Benny is a figment Dean has created as the manifestation of his suicidal thoughts. He can’t see a way out, hence Benny appearing to try and seduce him into returning to purgatory, or in other words a place where he felt at peace and pure.

Out there? You’re sleeping. You make the right choice in here, you’ll sleep forever, and you won’t ever hurt anyone ever again. No one needs to know, Dean. What happens in Purgatory stays in Purgatory. 

Dean’s tempted. He considers it

I always did love it here. It’s as good a place as any to call it a day, huh?

Until he has a realisation:

I’d do it. If I really had to, I would. But the real Benny, would never let me.

I always found this moment fascinating. Sure Dean looks within himself and realises he doesn’t want to do this, he wants to keep fighting, keep living, but the impetus that snaps him out of his dark state of mind and to this realisation? That his friend, the real Benny, wouldn’t let him do this. 

Dean’s always been someone who forged these deep complex connections with other characters. There’s Cas of course, Benny, Charlie, Claire and even Crowley, which was also a very interesting and complicated relationship. These bonds were important to him, they changed him. If there’s any doubt how important, just listen to what dream Benny, who once again is just a manifestation of Dean’s own thoughts, says to him about the worst case scenario that could happen if Dean gives into the mark.

Benny: What., you just wanna wait for the Mark to reclaim you? Go out swinging, die topside, then what? Maybe kill a few humans? Kill Cas? Kill your brother? Yeah, that’s mighty honorable!

Dean: Benny, shut up!

Benny: Oh, I-I’m sorry. I forgot… about your plan. You gonna get Sam and Cas to put you down? You really think that they’re gonna keep that agreement? Come on. Dean, let’s say they do. Do you think they will ever recover from that? It will ruin them.

Benny’s not really saying anything here that we don’t know about Sam and Dean’s relationship. Dean is well aware of how important he is to Sam, and how it would break him to have to hurt his older brother, if he could ever bring himself to do that. 

What’s interesting (and I don’t think I mentioned it in my “Dean’s thoughts about how Cas feels” post) is that Dean also seems to know how much he matters to Cas. I mean remember earlier in the season when took Cas for lunch? Cas saw right through Dean’s “I’m fine” posturing, after which Dean made Cas promise to kill him if it came down to it. Seems like Dean always knew Cas wouldn’t be able to do it, and that even if he somehow could, it’s not something he could live with afterwards. Turns out Dean was right. Cas didn’t have a plan if he couldn’t convince Dean to stop. He knew after everyone Dean loved was gone, he’d still be there. He would stay with him and “watch him murder the world” but he wouldn’t be able to kill him.

I’ve seen a lot of talk post finale about how the writers never cared, and it was all a waste and people were reading into things etc and I have two points to make on that 

a) an incoherent ending doesn’t suddenly erase the hundreds of episodes of content that came before it. If themes, stories, character traits/personalities were consistently shown a certain way throughout the course of the show, that’s not all now worthless just because the finale didn’t live up to what it should have been.

b) Spn more than any other show has an interesting kind of writers room. The writers had very distinct individual voices, and were given a lot of free reign on how they presented their stories and the themes they focused on. I mean on no other show I watch do I know the names of all the individual writers and can pinpoint when I’m watching one of their episodes just from the way the characters are presented. You know when it’s an Edlund episode. You can tell when it’s a Yockey episode.

Same with Berens. You can chart all of Bobo’s episodes from beginning to end (9x06 - 15x18) and see how consistent he is with how he writes these characters and envisions their story. How important Dean is to Cas and vice versa? He repeatedly emphasises it. Dean’s state of mind and his sense of self awareness? He’s fantastic at that. See all of the above, not to mention he wrote that wonderful speech that Dean gives to Mary in her head in 12x22, where he talks about how he had to be a mother and a father to Sam. 

And last but not least, he’s always made sure to highlight the connections that Sam and Dean have, especially Dean. That stayed true almost up until the end. And God yes I’m so frustrated that all this work, all this beautiful storytelling didn’t seem to factor into the finale at all, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t there. Journey, not destination and all that.

I’m not writing off years of intricate character work that has led me to love these characters and stories so much. There’s too much good here.

[nickelkeep]

What Mattered Most

Pairing: Dean/Cas Rating: Teen, for some profanity. Word Count: 6.1K Warnings: Pining, Internalized Homophobia Written For: Nickel’s Storytime On Ao3

Dean stormed into Crowley’s office, despite the warnings from the overworked and underpaid assistant. He threw the copy of Rolling Stone he carried onto Crowley’s desk and waited for his demon of an agent to get off his phone call.

“Seems I forgot about a meeting. A client just showed up at my office.” Crowley shot a smile in warning at Dean. “We’ll catch up soon. I want you to tell me all about this new talent of yours, Kipling. Until next time.” Crowley hung up the phone and picked up the magazine. “Ah, yes. Thursday James. Apparently Country’s brightest new star.” He tossed it back on his desk. “So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your presence?”

“I want to come out,” Dean replied simply and plainly. “I have hidden for the past 15 years because you said my music wouldn’t sell. I’m done not being me, I’m done hiding.” He pointed at the magazine. “He’s been on the scene for six months, and he booked a Stones cover? It took me seven years, Crowley. Seven! They never put country artists on the front.”

Crowley sighed and picked up the magazine and stared at it for a few silent moments before dropping it back on his desk. “No.”

“What the fucking hell!?” Dean’s arms shot out to the sides in exasperation before he pulled them back in, gripping his fingers on the chairback in front of him. “I have done everything you have ever asked of me, Crowley. I am just sick of living a damn lie.”

“So, you want to be ridiculed and laughed out of the country music scene?” Crowley pushed himself to his feet and leaned forward. While Dean had several inches on him, Crowley’s presence alone could cause most to back off. “You have succeeded in this world because you pushed that life away. You have sold out arenas because you are what women want and what men aspire to be. Until you retire, you are the straight, all-American boy. Do you understand?”

“No. I don’t.” Dean stormed back to the doors and swung them open, exposing Sam and Charlie, his lawyer and PR person. “So, I quit.”

“You really want to throw away your, as you acknowledged, 15-year career because you can’t hold hands with a man in public?” Crowley rolled his eyes as Sam and Charlie sat in the chairs across from him. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Dean. I have not led you wrong. I have not given you any bad advice.”

“You did, 17 years ago, when you first found Dean,” Charlie spoke up.

“He wasn’t out then, and he’s not out now.” Crowley tilted his head and looked at Dean. “Are you?”

“Not yet.” Dean shook his head.

Sam sighed exasperatedly. “For what it’s worth, Fergus, I did advise him to ask you differently. That being said, I don’t disagree with my brother. He’s done everything you asked. It’s been 15 years, and clearly, the world has changed.” Sam pointed at the magazine on the desk. “The world is in love with Thursday James. He’s proven that being queer isn’t a crime. And we’re not changing who Dean is. We’re not asking for chaps and songs about rainbows. We’re just asking you to let him be the person he’s hidden for 15 years. For you.”

“He doesn’t need a big coming-out party.” Crowley gestured at Dean. “Is there a person you’re interested in dating, Dean? Is that what this is? Go on a date. You’re not restricted to going out solo or having beards anymore.”

“Not good enough.” Charlie tapped Sam on the shoulder and pointed down to his briefcase. “As Dean’s lawyer and PR, we’re submitting an amendment to his contract, advising of it’s instant and final termination in regards to Article 2, Section 13.”

“A conflict of interest?” Crowley shook his head. “This is not a conflict of interest. This is me trying to protect my client, which is my job as his manager.”

Sam pulled out the stack of paper and set it on top of the magazine. “It’s a clean cut. We pay you a lump sum that equals 13% of his projected income for the next five years, which is a current 5% more than you take right now. Dean comes off your roster instantly.”

Crowley picked up the papers and quickly flipped through. “I also give up my rights to royalty and merchandising profits. Why?”

“Didn’t think you wanted to be associated with a gay country singer, Crowley.” Dean stood between Charlie and Sam, hands shoved in his pockets as he rocked back and forth from heel to toe. “Figured that 5% would make up for it.”

“Dean. Listen to yourself. You really want to throw our partnership away?” Crowley was practically pleading with Dean. “Why do you want to do this to your career?”

“Crowley, if my fans truly love me, I won’t lose them. And if anything, I’m openly welcoming a whole group of potential fans who think they’re not wanted. This is what’s best for not only me but also for the future of Country.”

Crowley stood up straight and rubbed at his temples. “Fine.” He handed the contract amendment back to Sam. “Believe it or not, I do want you happy, Dean.” He turned to the petite redhead sitting with a giant smirk on her face. “I’m assuming you’ve already started a plan?”

“Yes, but there’s one more thing.” Charlie pointed at Sam. “It was your idea.”

“In order to stay on as Dean’s manager, you will sign a different amendment. I’m going to start the official paperwork. Once you and Charlie come to a full and equal agreement for Dean’s coming out, it will be added to the contract, and both you and Dean will sign it.” Sam opened his suitcase back up and slid the defunct amendment into it. “We have an understanding, Fergus?”

“Yes.” Crowley nodded as he sat in his chair. “I think this is the first time I’ve been outwitted by a client.” He leaned back, resting his hands on his stomach. “Shall we begin, then?”

…

Thursday James took a deep breath as he took a final bow for the crowd that had come out to see him. While he was excited that his career was taking off, he had never expected how exhausting it would be. He stepped off the stage and into the wings, where he was greeted by his manager and best friend, Balthazar.

“Cassie! That was fantastic, as always!” Balthazar clapped his hand on Thursday’s - Cas’ - shoulder and led him back towards the dressing room. “You simply wowed the hall.”

“If you say so.” Cas slid off his mask, mindlessly playing with the fringe as Balthazar opened the door for him. He crossed over to his seat in front of the mirror and ran his hand down his face. “So. To what do I owe this pleasure? I wasn’t expecting you until St. Louis.”

“I am so very glad that you asked.” Balthazar crossed over to the sofa as Cas started his aftershow routine, beginning with the removal of his eye make-up. “Word of a fascinating tour came through the grapevine, and only a select handful of artists were invited.”

Cas perked up an eyebrow. “So, either I was invited, or you’re trying to get them to bring me along.”

“You were personally invited. By a Charlene Bradbury.” Cas’ head whipped up, and he stared at Balth’s reflection in the mirror. “I see you remember that name.”

“Charlie?” Cas frowned and turned around and stared at Balthazar, mouth agape. “Does she know?”

“Doubtful. Sia could learn a few lessons from you in hiding identity.” Balthazar leaned forward and clasped his hands together. His face turned serious. “Look, I understand the surprise, and I know I’m going to be fighting to get a yes out of you...”

“Damn right, you are! I’m not going on tour with Dean Winchester!”

“Let me finish, Cassie.” Balthazar tugged at his sleeves and fixed them before continuing. “Dean’s been a leader in the industry for 15 years. He’d be exposing you to fellow musicians, new venues, and possibly new members for your staff. Maybe you could steal Charlie out from under him?”

Cas shook his head. “Not happening, Balth. I can’t do it. He headlines arenas, he’s a damn star. I’m...” Cas choked on his own words, unable to finish the sentence. “You knew I would say no, why did you bring it up?”

“Well, for starters, it was 15 years ago. So why dwell on it? If you want him to know it’s you, you can show him that you outshone him in a matter of months.” Balthazar appeared to preen himself at those words. “But there’s an even bigger rumor involving the tour. Dean’s announcing something big.”

“He’s going to be the first country artist in space?” Cas deadpanned.

Balthazar let himself laugh at that. “I honestly don’t know. Charlie wouldn’t spill any beans. But, the rumor is that he’s going to retire.”

“Dean’s 36. Not happening.” Cas shook his head. “He’s got a lifetime ahead of him.”

“Okay, well the people who tour with him, get to find out first, and I am a nosy bastard, okay?”

“You’re a bastard, alright.” Cas picked up the mask he had worn for the evening and started fidgeting with the fringe. “And you’re not winning me over for this tour.”

“Fine. Rumor aside, here are the facts, from the devil herself. It’s a short 10 stop tour. All of the venues are 4000 people or less, either on college campuses or at smaller theaters.”

“That’s a huge step back for Dean.” Cas ran a hand through his hair and squinted at Balthazar. “I can see why retirement is a rumor associated with the tour.”

“That’s not all. The first stop?” Balthazar paused and bit his bottom lip. “Lied Center at KU.”

“Home?”

…

Dean looked up from his notepad as Charlie entered the studio in the home he shared with her and Sam. “What’s up, Red?”

“I got the final tour line up.” She held up a notepad of her own before crossing over to sit next to Dean. “Still writing?”

“He is.” Sam looked up from his desk. “And driving me crazy. Please get him to stop.”

“I changed my mind, Sam. I’m not writing a brand new song. I’m fixing an old one.” Dean turned to Charlie. “Hit me.”

“We’re going to go with four acts in total. First, a 20-minute set for your opener, a band coming out of hiatus, Tina & Her Pony. Second, We got Thursday James, which there’s a big caveat, but I got him.” She stole a glance at Sam, who was glaring at her.

“Sam’s going to kill you now, I’m okay with this. Continue.” Dean half-joked before gesturing for her to continue.

“Thursday is on for a 30-minute set. And, and, and! Brandi Carlile is on board, also for a 30-minute set assuming that yours is only 45. She’s got a hell of a negotiator on her team. Wonder if she’s single.”

“Brandi, or her negotiator?” Sam leaned forward on his desk, chin resting on his knuckles.

“Her negotiator. That wit. That charm. Ugh. So unfair.” Charlie let out a little sigh before shaking it off and looking at Dean. “So, did I do good?”

“You did fantastic.” Dean set down his pen and paper before pulling Charlie into a hug. “So, what’s the caveat with Thursday James?”

Charlie winced. “Shit, I was hoping you’d forget about that.” She flipped through her pad and pulled out two sheets of paper, handing one to Dean before getting up and taking the other to Sam. “It’s well known that Mr. James is private. I took the time to look up his previous riders. NDAs, no pictures unless he’s in a mask, pretty simple stuff. His agent - who’s name sounds so familiar - sent over his ‘standard rider’ and an amendment specific to this tour.”

“No guest appearances during his set, no requesting him to come on during another person’s set, and no requesting to hang out after shows.” Sam started to rattle off what he was reading. “What the hell?”

“I asked Meg, Brandi’s negotiator, to let me know if she got the amendment as well. I know that Tina & Her Pony didn’t get it as of yet, but Mr. James’ manager may not have sent it to them yet.” Charlie shrugged. “It is strange, but it’s not unheard of.”

“Well,” Dean shrugged, “if it gets him on tour with us, then I’m happy to do it.”

Sam nodded. “I mean, it’s not a bad request. I’ve heard Sia’s rider is insane. Like, you can’t even talk to her between sets.”

“Agoraphobia’s a thing, Sam. Lighten up.” Dean swallowed hard, a brief memory from his past flashing through his mind. “Charles, they okay being on a tour that’s literally called ‘The Thanks for Coming Out Tour,’ or do we have to change that?”

“I may not have mentioned that.” Charlie rubbed the back of her neck.

“WHAT!?” Dean and Sam cried out in unison.

Charlie held up her hands in defense. “Look, we don’t want Dean’s announcement blown before he gets to make it himself, right?” She waited until Dean nodded. “I’m going to get Sam to write up an NDA for the name, then Dean’s going to announce it with the tour dates on his website in a video.”

“So they don’t get to know the name of the tour until they sign the NDA, and if they don’t sign the NDA?” Sam questioned.

“Then, they can be replaced.” Charlie brushed it off. “But after speaking with Meg and Mr. James’ representative - why the fuck can’t I remember his name? - It sounds like they’re okay with it. I think they like knowing that they’ll be in on a rumor before the rest of the world.”

Dean stole a glance at his younger brother, who let out an exhausted sigh before speaking. “I’ll leave you to your magic, Charlie. You’ve never led us astray before. Just tell me what I need to write up and get out for you.”

…

“Cassie!” Balthazar closed the door shut behind him and held up a folder. “They accepted the terms of your rider with the NDAs and sent them over, signed. Charlie’s getting the rest of their crew to fill them out, and we should have them within 48 hours.” He flipped the folder open. “They responded with a note: ‘We fully honor the requests of Mr. James’ privacy rider. However, if he finds himself in need of someone to speak to, Dean and his crew will be available.’ How charming.”

“Shut up, Balth.” Cas kicked his feet up. “I’m assuming they sent the dates over?”

“Yes, and the rest of the lineup. Tina & Her Pony, you, Brandi Carlile, and Dean.” Balthazar pulled out a paper and handed it to Cas. “There’s also an NDA for you and I to sign. They don’t want the tour’s name to go public until Dean announces it, but they want to make sure we’re okay touring under it.”

Cas looked up from the paper. “I’m assuming you already signed for me?”

“Of course, Cassie.” Balthazar sat down and rested his ankle on his knee. “It adds weight to the retiring theory. ‘The Thanks for Coming Out Tour.’”

Cas chuckled. “One can only hope. I realized that the longer we’re in the industry together, the harder it will be to hide my identity from him.”

“There is that, yes.”

“You still think I should just tell him.” Cas crossed his arms over his chest and slouched down in his chair. “I can’t do that, Balth. I didn’t work my ass off for my career to spite him.”

“You can tell that to the people who don’t know you better, Cassie.”

“If I wanted to spite him, I’d be going by Castiel Novak, not Thursday James. I would show my face and not hide behind a mask. This has always been for me, Balth. I did this. For me.” Cas hung his head. “He wouldn’t care how hard I worked anyway.”

Balthazar pushed himself out of his seat and crossed to Cas before crouching down in front of him. “I can’t pretend to know what happened, Cassie. But when you two went your separate ways? I still believe a little piece of him died.”

“You’re right. You don’t know what happened. And as much as I love you? As much as I’m thankful every day that you’re my manager, my cousin, and my best friend? You do not and will not ever know.” Cas wiped a tear away. “I’m starting to think this was a mistake.”

“It’s not too late for us to back out. I’ve been informed that there are acts dying to fill the spots for this tour.” Balthazar rested a hand on Cas’ knee and squeezed gently. “If you want me to go cancel, I’ll do it in a heartbeat.”

Cas shook his head. “We’ve already signed a million and two pieces of paper, and put in the request to have the riders printed. I got through most of the autographed merch pile...” Cas looked at Balthazar. “As long as he honors the NDAs and riders, I can get through this. It’s ten stops. And if we’re lucky, he’s retiring.”

“Are you taking off the mask the day of or the day after he announces his retirement?” Balthazar smiled, clearly trying to get Cas to laugh. “We can throw a huge party announcing your real identity.”

“Well, if he announces it at KU like you think he is, then I have to wait for an additional nine more tour stops.” Cas attempted to return his cousin’s mirth. “But, I will say that I’ve gotten attached to the name Thursday James.”

“Then, we do an interview with the highest bidder to get an inside look at your life.” Balthazar stood up, his knees cracking. “Oh, bloody hell. When did I get so old?”

“Shut up, you’re only three years older.”

“Don’t waste those three precious years, my darling Cassie.” Balthazar gently patted Cas’ cheek. “Looking forward to losing the mask?”

Cas paused, thinking before nodding. “Once this tour is over, and Dean’s retired? I’ll lose the mask.”

…

Dean stared out the window as his tour bus pulled up behind the Lied Center. Two other buses were there, as was a small caravan of vans, and Dean made a mental note to offer to charter a bus for the tour’s opening act.

“Nervous?” Sam walked up next to him and looked out the window.

“I mean, when’s the last time we were home, Sammy?” Dean looked to his brother and tried to fight the nervous frown on his face. “The closest before was Topeka, and those Will-Call tickets were never picked up.”

Sam let out a sigh. “I meant about coming out tonight, but I guess that works too. You want Cas here, don’t you?” Dean nodded, and Sam continued. “It’s been almost twenty years, Dean. I know you’re still in love with him, but you need–”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence, Sam. Don’t you fucking dare.”

“I’m going to, but only because you need to hear this. You need to move on. I found out about your... something, with Cas because of that god damned song. You think you could have hidden that you’re gay from Charlie and me?”

“It’s my decision if I move on or not. And I don’t want to. I never have. And, to be honest, Charlie knew.” Dean turned in his seat. “And I wanted to tell you sooner, but...”

“But I was a loud-mouthed kid, and Dad would have killed you. I get it.” Sam sat across from Dean. “You gotta know, Dean. I have only ever wanted to see you happy.”

“Thank you, Sammy.” Dean looked over to the bus door, Sam’s head turned to look as well, as it opened.

Charlie walked up the stairs, her fingers in a peace sign. “What’s up, bitches?” She hip-checked Sam and sat down next to him as he slid over. “Dean?”

“It’s just weird being home.” He swallowed. “You get everything set up?”

“Of course I did, and before you ask, yes, I checked to make sure that a pair of tickets were held for a Castiel Novak at Will-Call.” She reached into her bag and pulled out a notebook and started going over it. “Benny and the boys want to know if you have the setlist finished.”

“Yeah.” He flipped up a piece of paper and slid it over to Charlie as he prepared for their pre-venue checklist.

…

“I know you can see it, Cassie.” Balthazar took a sip from a water bottle before handing one to Cas. “How are you holding up?”

“We’re back in Lawrence. I’m on tour with Dean, but it’s as a solo act.” Cas set the bottle down and looked up at Balthazar. “Balth, did I make the right choice, or was I too lenient in letting you twist my arm?”

“Well, that’s not fair. I’ve never made you do anything you don’t want to do.”

Cas ran his fingers through his hair. “I know. Even when it could have made us - how did you say it? - filthy fucking rich, you never forced me to do it.” He picked up the mask in front of him, an emerald green one with gold embroidery and fringe, and gently traced his fingers over the ornate pattern. “I’m making a huge fucking mistake.”

“Cassie. You have been having this fight with yourself for the past month while the tour dates got finalized. We are here.” Balthazar picked the bottle up and cracked it open before handing it back to Cas. “If you need alcohol, I’ll give you a couple of shots after your set, per your rider.”

“Can we break my rider for once?” Cas pinched the bridge of his nose before picking up the bottle and taking a sip. “So, what do you need?”

“Since we’re borrowing Dean’s band for the tour, their leader - a handsome, hopefully single, drummer named Benny - is asking for a finalized setlist. He also wants to do a test run of a song or two with you for the sound crew.”

Cas pushed himself out of his seat and went back to his bedroom. He grabbed a notebook off of the bed. He stole a quick look at the picture on his nightstand - a reminder from his life 17 years ago - before rejoining Balthazar. He handed the paper over and sat back down. “Small change from the usual list.”

“Cassie...” Balthazar looked up from the setlist.

“I don’t need your criticism right now. I made sure that the song was on the possible choice list for the tour.” Cas put on his mask.

Balthazar shook his head. “Not criticizing. Just worried about you.”

…

Dean was on edge as the concert started. He had paced his dressing room until Tina & Her Pony started the first song of their set. Per his request, Charlie had gotten their music on his phone, so he could listen to it, but hearing them live was much better. He calmed down and finally sat on the sofa, drinking the water Sam forced on him.

“You look like you’re going to faint.” Sam took the seat in front of the mirror and checked himself before turning around to face Dean. “You do your grounding technique?”

“Yes, Samantha.” Dean rested his forehead in his palms and stared at the ground. “They’re probably not going to answer at the box office, are they?”

“You’re not going to find out, Dean.” Charlie looked up from her phone. “I will unplug that phone if necessary.”

Dean harrumphed and slunk down further into his seat.

“Seriously, Dean. What’s finding out if he’s here going to do? If he didn’t come, you’re going to be mopey. If he did come, you’re going to be so nervous you can’t perform.” Sam pointed at him. “Go through your grounding again.”

“I’m fine.” Dean closed his eyes and focused on the current set piping through the speakers. He gave himself a silent reminder to provide Charlie with a raise for picking the duo for the tour’s opening act.

A few songs later, one of the members thanked the audience and told them to enjoy the rest of the show. Dean opened his eyes and looked up to the monitor, and watched as they waved and stepped offstage. The stage crew stepped in quickly and prepped for the next set. Dean sat up in surprise as he watched them roll a baby grand onto the stage, not remembering which of Thursday James’ songs required it.

“Charlie?” Dean smacked her shoulder and pointed to the monitor. “I don’t remember that on his list.”

“I have no idea.” Charlie sat up in her seat and leaned forward, aptly paying attention alongside Dean.

…

Cas was incredibly impressed and surprised by how easily his set had gone so far. He was humbled and honored by the sheer number of people who were cheering for him, and he used their energy to wash away his dread and apprehension.

“Ladies, Men, and Gentlethem.” He pulled the mic out of the stand and spoke into it as he walked over to the piano. “There’s a little something special I wanted to do for you all tonight.”

The crowd cheered, and Cas took the opportunity to inhale deeply as he put the mic into the stand clipped on the piano.

“I’m sorry to disappoint, but it’s not a new song, but a song that you all are familiar with. When I first wrote it, I had intended it as a piano ballad.” Cas sat down and adjusted the mic. “A few of you may have already noted it missing from the lineup, but it’s one that I’ll always sing until I can’t anymore.”

Cas ran his fingers over the keys in a brief allegro, stirring the crowd up even more. He took in another deep breath and closed his eyes before hitting the first chord of the song.

Catch ’em by surprise and Chasin’ the horizon Nothing holds me down Askin’, “Where the time’s gone?” Dreamin’ with the lights on Tryna keep your eyes on Something along the rise

You and I Bide our time And I miss summertime

Cas found himself surprised by the number of cheers as he played. While he was there to perform for the concert-goers, this was for him. This was to get him through the remainder of the tour.

Catch him on the run, they Punish those who love young Never right on time Watch each other fallin’ Always catch the call and Whistle while we’re walkin’ Something inside me dies

You and I Why, oh, why? And I miss summertime

Cas swayed in his seat, letting the piano run through him. He fought back the tears that threatened to spill.

Keep on rockin’, baby Keep on risin’ on the tide Son of a gun and maybe We’ll be ridin’ all night Something inside me dies You and I, You and I Bide our time. And I, I miss summertime

You and I Why, oh, why? And I miss summertime

Cas hit the final chord of the song, and the venue exploded. He stared at the keys for a few moments, letting the tears fall softly before nodding. “Thank you, everyone. Enjoy the rest of the concert. Up in just a few minutes will be the amazing Brandi Carlile!”

He stood up and waved before quickly walking offstage. Balthazar led him to his dressing room. Once the door was shut, Balthazar pulled Cas into his arms and hugged him tightly. “I am so sorry, Cassie. I never realized it.”

“Realized what?” Cas sniffled.

“You two. You and Dean? You were together.”

Cas swallowed and looked up at Balthazar. At a loss for words, there was only one thing he could do. He broke down and sobbed into his cousin’s arms.

…

Dean was still shaking from Thursday’s set when he was given his five-minute warning. Brandi was terrific, and he looked forward to hanging out with her after the show, but the way that Thursday sang, the smooth whiskey sound, the profound heartbreak... Dean knew there was more there. Something was entirely familiar to him, and it was driving him crazy that he couldn’t put his finger on it.

Dean walked out to the stage, waiting in the wings for Benny to start their opening number with the rest of the band. He tried to shake himself loose, rolling his neck and stretching out when Charlie walked up to him.

“You’re working yourself up, Dean.”

“Yeah, and I’m about to come out to a sold-out auditorium, which is probably going to go viral. Forgive me if I’m nervous that I’m going to kill my career tonight.” Dean pulled his arm in front of his chest, stretching out his shoulder, before switching to the other.

“And you’re so full of shit.” Charlie looked out to the stage as Benny counted the band out. “Break a leg, Dean.” She stood up on tiptoe and kissed his cheek before stepping back further into the wing.

Dean shook himself out one more time, putting on a great big smile and ran out on stage, waving to the crowd. “Good Evening, Lawrence!”

The crowd roared, and Dean broke into his first song. Their energy was contagious, and it took all of Dean’s power to not come out right then and there. He wanted to ride the high and get it over with. But people came out on an excellent show, and he was going to give it to them. And it was all he could hope that they would still be fans when all was said and done.

After the eighth song in his set, yes, he’d been counting, Dean smiled at the crowd and winked. “I think it’s that time, huh?” He took his guitar that he had acquired during the second song off, and walked it to a stand. He picked up his acoustic guitar and grabbed a stool before setting back up in front of the mic.

“First and foremost, I want to thank y’all for coming out tonight.” Dean sat on the stool and pulled the guitar strap over his head. “I’m not sure if y’all know, but Lawrence is actually my hometown.” Cheers and whistles rifled through the crowd. “I was born and raised here, stayed until I was 19 years old. Ran off to Nashville, found a manager who thought I was decent, and here I am. Blessed by fans like y’all.

“And I mean it when I say I’m truly honored to have so many wonderful fans. But there’s something that’s been eating me up inside for a long time, and I need to be honest with y’all.” Dean strummed absentmindedly on his guitar, his fingers starting the beginning notes from memory. “Eleven years ago, my second album came out, and on it is a song that means so much to me.

But my manager, even though I’m not which one more, was concerned for my career and my safety. He refused to let me include it on the album unless I changed the pronouns.” Dean bristled at the hushed whispers going through the crowd. “While that song turned out to be one of my most significant hits, I’ve never forgiven myself for letting that change be forced onto it.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m gay. And Cas, if you’re out there. Anywhere. This has always been your song, sunshine.”

…

Cas fell off of the sofa.

The room spun around, and Balthazar joined him in a heartbeat as he stared up at the screen. His mind was racing a mile a minute as he thought through Dean’s discography.

I thought I knew the boy so well If he was sad, I couldn’t tell I missed the point I missed the signs So if he’s gone the fault is mine I know, I know a whole lot little things And even though I could list them one by one Oh, he would still be gone

Cas sucked in sharply. He knew this song. He knew it better than he would ever care to admit. He had often dreamt about it being for him.

His eyes are blue His hair was long In ’84 he was born In Baton Rouge His favorite song is “In My Life” I memorized his every move I knew his books, his car, his clothes But I paid no attention to what mattered most

Cas pushed himself up to his feet, relying on Balthazar’s shoulder for support. His eyes were locked on the screen, feet unable to move.

I never asked he never said And when he cried, I turned my head He dreamed his dreams behind closed doors That made them easy to ignore I know, I know I missed the forest for the trees All I have to show Oh, when he walked out the door The cold facts and nothing more

His eyes are blue His hair was long In ’84 he was born In Baton Rouge His favorite song is “In My Life” I memorized his every move I knew his books, his car, his clothes But I paid no attention to what mattered most

Cas started to the door, ignoring Balthazar calling after him. He ran out the door, making it to the stage as Dean began the final refrain.

His eyes are blue His hair was long In ’84 he was born In Baton Rouge His father’s tall His mother’s gone He moved out west when he was two The way he laughed The way he loved Oh my god, what did I do?

He dreamed his dreams behind closed doors I never asked he never said

Cas looked out to the crowd as Dean got a standing ovation. He wanted Dean to have this moment, to know that the audience would still love him, regardless of orientation. But Cas also wanted to know if Dean still loved him. He needed to know.

He started to walk out on stage when a hand wrapped around his arm and pulled him back. “Holy shit. Cas? You? You’re here?” Charlie looked him up and down. “Oh my god. Thursday James. Castiel James Novak.”

“Please, Charlie. Can I?”

“You have a lot of explaining to do, but you both do.” She turned him around and pushed him gently. “Go get him, and make him whole again. Please.”

…

Dean gave a final wave to the crowd before turning to walk off of the stage. He looked up from his boots, and his eyes met the bluest eyes he’d ever seen, and he’d never forget. Dean’s knees went weak and out from under him, and he grabbed the stool he’d just been sitting on. “Cas?”

An electric buzz shot through the crowd as the realization settled over the venue. Cas looked out to the audience, then took a few steps closer. Dean pushed himself to his knees, staring in awe.

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean looked Cas up and down when everything clicked. “Thursday... Castiel. Fuck. How did I...?”

Cas finished closing the distance between them and held his hand down. Dean took it and allowed Cas to help pull him to his feet. Once standing, Dean hesitantly reached forward, his hand faintly touching Cas’ cheek. Cas took Dean’s hand and pressed it against his cheek, and Dean felt the first sob wreck through his body.

“That song has always been for me?” Cas whispered, and Dean nodded, unable to find his words out of shock. “You never stopped?”

“Loving you?” Dean shook his head. “Never. It has always been you, Cas. I knew what I lost, and I couldn’t move on. I won’t ever move on from you.”

Cas leaned in and pressed his lips softly against Dean’s, and Dean felt Cas’ mouth break into a smile as cheers erupted from the crowd. “Am I dreaming, Dean?”

“God, I hope not, Cas.” Dean brought his other hand up, holding Cas’ face as he rested their foreheads together. “I have missed you, so much, Cas.”

“You don’t have to anymore, Dean.” Cas kissed Dean again, reclaiming his lost love for himself and no longer dreaming behind closed doors.

[spndystopiabang]

SPN Dystopia Bang 2020 Master List

The bang is over for 2020, but here are all the amazing stories and pieces of art that were created for this year.

Please do pay attention to tags and warnings below and when you click through. Also, please remember this is a multishipping friendly bang, and so the stories here are across a range of Supernatural ships.

You can also find all stories in this year's bang over on our AO3 Collection.

===

Title: Bite The Hand That Feeds Author: hit_the_books Artist: Anyrei Rating: Explicit Ships: Castiel/Sam (Sastiel) Expected word count: 20k Major warnings and tags: Graphic depictions of violence Summary:

Two centuries ago, a great cataclysm hit the Earth. Monsters poured forth from a tear in reality, and the insidious energy from this rift turned much of the Earth into wasteland. Humans now survive in a handful of guarded megacities, like New Lawrence, while some live out in the wastes.

But what if there was a way to finally close the rift for good and save the Earth?

That’s what Castiel hopes when he happens upon Sam Winchester, a powerful psy—a human mutated by the energies of the rift.

Yet other psys have different plans. The cult of Azazel sees a newer, deadly future for the tear in the world and the rest of humanity.

Banding together with Sam’s brother Dean, Castiel and Sam set forth to heal   the world once and for all, along with some help from old friends.

The Plan? Survive. Save the world. Fall in love. Link to story Link to art -

Title: I’m All Yours My Love Author: DWImpala67 Artist: EmmaTheSlayer Rating:  Mature Length: 33121 Pairings: Jared Padalecki/Jensen Ackles Warnings: No Major Archives warning Apply Summary:

They live in a world where a love marriage was a taboo and more so for male carriers. Jared is one of them. His father has arranged for his marriage with Jensen Ackles, whom he doesn’t know from Adam. Unfortunately for him, he falls in love with another man. He’s happy and they keep it under wraps until they can seek Jared’s parents’ permission. But, his secret is exposed and his guy is sent packing and Jared is married off to Jensen Ackles forcefully to honor his family name. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to forget his first love and move on.

Jensen Ackles was a romantic. He always believed his married life would be one full of love and belonging, of togetherness. He took one look at his husband and fell hard and fast for him. His husband is the single most treasured and important person to him in the entire world. He’ll do  anything to make his husband happy. But what he gets instead is a husband who’s given his heart away already. So, Jensen decides to help his husband find his true love. Only, Jared has other ideas… Will Jared get his happily ever after? Or will they both find something to soothe their battered soul?

Link to fic: Archive Of Our Own Link to art: LiveJournal - Title: A Town Called Rhoda Author: smalltrolven Artist: MidnightSilver Rating: Explicit Length: 24,937 Pairings: Sam/Dean, (Dean/Original Binary Character) Warnings: Brief mentions of past torture, enslavement. Summary:

It’s the end of the world, and Dean believes Sam is gone along with the rest  of San Francisco. When the nukes began to fall they were separated by hundreds of miles, and now there’s no point. He tries his hardest to move on, living in a small town in the redwood forest of Northern California. This is the story of what happens when Sam eventually shows up after enduring an epic journey just to reach Dean.

Link to fic: LJ or AO3

Link to art: AO3 -

Title: Brother Take My Hand Author: MidnightSilver Artist: MissJenniferB Rating: Explicit Length: 40K Pairings: Sam/Dean Warnings: sentient animal sex (Sam and Dean are wolves), Sam is 17 at the start of the fic, attempted non con, Magical roofies, minor character death, canon level gore and violence (please read tags) Summary: All Sam has ever known is Yellow Eyes’ rule and life within the Pack, but he is sure there has to be more.

The young wolf questions everything he’s been taught. Why is he the only one fascinated by old ruins? Is human nature really so evil that it justifies using other creatures as slaves? And why can no one else see the benefits of using hands?

Dean loves Sam but he doesn’t have any answers. In fact he wishes Sam didn’t have so many questions.

On the summer equinox fate will force Sam to make some choices and Yellow Eyes is already showing far too much interest in him. So what will the young wolf do when he has to choose between the Pack and his conscience?

Link to Fic

Link to Art

-

Title: The Sounds of Hope Shall Never Fade Author: Hannah-deserved-better (Hannah_girl) Artist: Duck (majesticduxk) Rating: Mature Length: 14,215 Pairings: Hanstiel Squared (Castiel/Hannah/Castiel’s female vessel/Hannah’s male vessel) Warnings:  Abuse, torture, medical experimentation, attempted artificial   insemination, captivity, pregnancy, emotional trauma, psychological trauma, Evil!Sam, Evil!Dean, major character death (sort of) Summary: Castiel and Hannah fall into an alternate reality where they encounter their counterparts in this world. Castielle (Castiel’s female vessel) and Hana (Hannah’s male vessel) have endured decades of torment at the hands of these humans. Castiel and Hannah meet Sam and Dean, but these aren't the Sam and Dean they know. They are a twisted, cruel, uncaring version of their real-world counterparts and they see the angels and their powerhouse supply of angel grace as commodities. The Angels power their underground world after a comet strike destroyed life on the surface. Now, this small underground civilization, one of many all over the world, has running water, food, power, and other necessities all powered by angel grace. Sam and Dean will do whatever it takes to hold onto their four precious powerhouses, and have long since given up on caring about the comfort of their angelic captives. Castiel, Hannah, and their counterparts must endure endless medical experiments, painful grace extractions, and deplorable living conditions, and somehow they must find a way to survive because the future of heaven may hang in the balance.

Link to fic

Link to art

-

Title: When Worlds Collide Author: LilyAnson Artist: AnyRei Rating: General Length: 18500 Pairings: Mick Davies/Arthur Ketch, Matt Anderson/Hilary BeckerWarnings: No warnings really apply Summary:

Ketch is halfway across the country when the Croatoan virus break out. Worried about his boyfriend he races as fast as he can to find out if Mick is still alive or not. Upon arrival he finds something new. A strange, floating object, seemly made out of what appeared to be glass shards hovered nearby.

Matt is a traveler from the future bent and determined to save his world. If that means he has to use the people around him, so be it. That is, until he falls for one of his fellow teammates. Now he must decide whether or not saving the potential future is worth losing the one person he's ever loved.

Otherwise known as what happens when dinosaurs and the supernatural meet.

Link to fic

Link to art

-

Title: Fabulous Monsters Author: ellispark Artist: nickel Rating: Mature Length: 10k Pairings: Dean/Castiel Warnings: Canon-typical violence, references to torture and brainwashing, references to war crimes Summary:

It’s been a year since Dean last saw Castiel — a year since he was captured and reprogrammed by the angels, trained to be a torturer. When Charlie escapes the angels, she tells him Cas can still be saved.

Dean rushes to Cas’s rescue, unsure of what he’ll find. Will Cas be the loyal friend he lost, or the emotionless killer the angels turned him into?

Link to fic

Link to art

-

Title: WEDLOCKED Author: spnsmile Artist: oddsocksandstuff Rating: Explicit Length: 50k+ Pairings: Castiel/ Dean Winchester Warnings:  Noncon, graphic violence, torture... Summary:

Dean Winchester, the leader of the Southern Resistance, makes a decision to stay in the capital keeping his brother alive, meeting his new husband with a promise to never break.

Castiel Novak, a Skywalker, has just returned to Discordia from his trip to outer space. Trained by the best Capacitors from VOLTS, the paramilitary officers, he finds himself with a new mission— to connect with a rebel and transform him into a submissive member of the society.

Can Castiel convince Dean to stay by his side? Or will he turn against the society threatening Dean?

Link to fic

Link to art

-

Title: Feathers On My Breath Author: navajolovesdestiel Artist: kuwlshadow Rating: Explicit Pairing: Dean/Castiel Warnings: Drug use Summary: The world following the apocalypse was a very different place than before. After Sam said yes to Lucifer, after he and Michael had fought the final battle, the angels won. They retreated to heaven after locking Lucifer away again, sealing heaven.

There were a few angels who were left behind, trapped forever on earth. Some humans had survived. They lived in small groups, foraging for food, medicine, necessities. But human beings are resilient. They prospered, grew in numbers as babies were born.

One thing they all had in common was their hatred of angels. If they ever trapped one it was swiftly put to death, or worse.

Link to Fic

Link to Art

-

Title: Fields of Freja Author: Emblue_Sparks and tfw_cas (punk-is-notdead) Artist: shealynn88 Rating: Explicit Length: 65k+ Pairings: Castiel/Dean Winchester (Past Dean/Benny, Claire/Kaia, Sam/Eileen) Warnings: MCD (Dean only), Graphic Violence, Juvenile Soldiers, Juvenile Deaths Summary:

Bolivian-born Dean Winchester is a seasoned soldier, having served courageously in the rebellion against an immortal and tyrannical visionary. Yet his greatest fight begins the day his life ends. Dean awakens to a beautifully winged, albeit sardonic man, claiming him for Valhalla. Only problem: Like Helheim is he going. Not until Sam's safe from the Bright One in New Lebanon, tech beacon of the broken world, resting within the arctic circle.

As the only male Valkyrie in existence, Castiel Sigurd is an outcast tasked with purpose, yet denied companionship. Called to claim the only soldier to refuse the honor of Valhalla, intrigue paints his otherwise colorless eternity. Castiel journeys with Dean to find Sam, who's been lost to the winds for years. With nothing but a clue-filled journal and an oath to ascend upon 'mission accomplished,' Dean embarks on this last harrowing quest, experiencing adventure beyond his wildest fantasy and heart's desire along the way.

Link to fic

Link to art

===

Check out the SPN Dystopia Bang 2020 AO3 collection here!

[drsilverfish]

Nothing Gold Can Stay... (15x04 Atomic Monsters)

Nature’s first green is gold, Her hardest hue to hold. Her early leaf’s a flower; But only so an hour. Then leaf subsides to leaf. So Eden sank to grief, So dawn goes down to day. Nothing gold can stay.

Robert Frost

Hey everyone, as ever, I am catching up British-time, so I haven’t jumped into your posts yet, but I’m looking forward to it!

I’m sure there are some great gifs and discussions already out there about Dean and his “man meat” grief-eating. 

But I thought I’d start with Veronica and Robert Frost.

Those of you who’ve been following mine or @occamshipper​ ‘s musings on the use of alchemical themes in Dabb-era SPN will know that gold was highly significant to the medieval alchemists. It was their ultimate goal, to turn “base metal” (lead) into gold, and that was understood as a metaphor (or a mirror on the earthly plane) for the refinement of the soul on its journey to God. 

Next week’s episode, 15x05, is titled  Proverbs 17.3, and in the Bible, Proverbs 17.3 reads (King James version):

The fining pot is for silver, and the furnace for gold:

But the LORD trieth the hearts

Gold is, officially, a theme. As is the symbolic red of the heart.

As Becky tells Chuck, it’s not the monsters (ooh shade at the Leviathan, whom Chuck thinks were “great”, just like he thought the ending of Game of Thrones was “great”) which SPN fans are really interested in, it’s the emotional interactions between the characters - i.e. their hearts. 

Becky, in Perez’ metafictional commentary, is the fan-fiction representative who has come to understand the SPN story better than sucky origin-writer Chuck. She knows it’s about the emotional notes, the heartfelt conversations between the hero characters (including Cas, since she shades his non-mention all too often in Chuck’s MOTW stories) - aka the real “gold” of the story.

Interesting also, in terms of alchemical colour symbolism, are Sam’s God-wound induced “red visions”, which seem to be of an AU in which Sam has succumbed to his old demon-blood addiction (symbolic of his S5 apparent “destiny” of possession by Lucifer):

I was waiting for the Ouroboros (spiral/ circular narrative) reference to 5x04 The End (in its numerical correspondence to 15x04). And here it is, because Sam in the red-vision in 15x04 speaks in a similar voice to Lucifer!Sam in The End. Dean in the 15x04 red vision is a desperate fighter and Sam has said “Yes” to the demonic, just as was the case in 5x04 The End.:

In alchemy, there are four traditional colour-stages along the alchemical transformational road from lead to gold - nigredo (blackening) albedo (whitening) citrinitas (yellowing) and rubedo (reddening). Reddening is the final stage before gold. So Sam’s red-visions, and the gold which becomes a theme in 15x04 by means of the quotation from Robert Frost’s beautiful poem, are linked pieces of alchemical symbolism. 

Their meaning, I think, is that just as Amara’s link to Dean through the Mark of Cain changed Amara for the better (she learned about love through experiencing Dean’s “heart” through the Mark in S11, thus shaking off The DarknessTM to become clothed in yellow, the colour of the sun, at the start of S15), so Sam’s link to Chuck through the God-gun (of equalising/ revenge) will (hopefully, eventually) change Chuck for the better. A balance of powers - the feminine God-principle and the masculine God-principle, both learning compassion and becoming their higher selves (achieving the spiritual synthesis of “gold”) through their links to the (red) hearts of the Winchesters.

That means suffering for the Winchesters along the way, of course, as they too, undergo the alchemical process of self-transformation by (eventually) fully facing their Shadows (their unconscious); Sam’s fear of being permanently “contaminated” by the demon-blood fed to him as a baby, and Dean’s fear of abandonment (stemming from the loss of his mother) which leads him to be over-controlling and to act out and push people (ahem, Cas) away.    

But back to Veronica. Veronica who quotes Robert Frost’s lovely poem in her tribute speech to her “best friend” Suzy (possibly, her lover - that subtextual reading is certainly available).

Veronica is a fascinating character, because she is “read wrong”, by Dean in particular, who thinks she’s the vampire, the one killing her cheerleader rivals in order to get the top spot. And he’s wrong because, as Sam points out, she has braces, a no-no for vamp-teeth. Dean is really sarcastic about the memorial speech Veronica is practising for Suzy, of whom she says, “I’m lost without Suzy, it’s like a piece of my heart is gone.”  

Here is Dean, being a sarcastic little shit about Veronica’s emotive school-girl speech: 

Of course, Veronica’s eulogy for her dead beloved, who was “gold” and thus (in her Frost’s poem analogy) was too beautiful to last in this world, is too painful for Dean to hear. It verbalises what he cannot (he can’t even bear to speak Castiel’s name, all episode):

“My best friend Suzy who I miss like she was a part of me, and in many ways she’s still a part of me.”

In subtext, Dean also reads Veronica “wrong” because he thinks she was Suzy’s rival, when in fact, she was her lover (part of a Veronica-Suzy-Billy love-triangle, the F/F element emphasised by their attendance at a school called “Beaverdale” where “beaver” is of course slang for vagina). 

Look at all those red hearts (symbols of romantic love) on Suzy’s memorial pin-board, Indeed, look at all that red in general. A “match” for Sam’s “red-visions”. If Sam’s rubedo (alchemical reddening) trial is his God-wound, Dean’s is his separation from Cas: 

Veronica, it seems (unbeknownst to the Winchesters) is a neophyte hunter (as well as, in subtext, Suzy’s lover) a sleuth, on the trail of whoever killed Suzy. And it looks like she knows it was a vampire. When Sam and Dean are questioning her (and she’s clearly suspicious of them) we see her with a syringe of what looks like blood behind her back, ready to jab them:

We know, from 1x20 Dead Man’s Blood, that in the SPN universe, a dead person’s blood can temporarily take down a vamp. So it seems that whilst Dean suspects Veronica of being the vampire, she suspects the Winchesters (a recurrence of SPN’s perennial - “Who is really the monster?”/ it’s not black-and-white theme. The reference to Dead Man’s Blood is also interesting, as this was an early episode in which Dean defied his father (stepped out of being John’s “good little solider”, who did see monsters in black-and-white) yet now, we have, Ouroboros-style Dean regressing to old John-learned behaviours (conceal, don’t feel) after the second death of Mary. 

I love this little Veronica detail. It’s an un-explored thread in the story, a piece of fan-fiction catnip begging for further elaboration. More Perez meta-narrative, in fact, in which he suggests that, despite the sinister Chuck and his insistence on a final SPN ending with a gravestone reading “Winchesters”, the story itself is WaywardTM; it is capable of fluidity, of control being wrested from the origin-creator (God). After all, Chuck created free will, and despite his desire for total control, he cannot undo this wild-card element in the narrative, which Veronica’s little secret hunter-identity (in subtext, also, her secret queer identity) just like Becky’s fan-fic, is a mirror for. 

Veronica’s citation of Frost’s melancholic poem becomes a metaphor for (Dean’s) lost love. Just as Sam’s mention in the final Impala scene, of how he still thinks about Jess often, becomes a verbalisation for Dean’s own constant (unspoken) thoughts about his own lost love; Cas.

 Veronica and Billy (who were possibly both Suzy’s lovers; although in text it’s Billy, in subtext Veronica, true to SPN’s ongoing bisexual subtext in relation to Dean) exchange a memorial bracelet to Suzy in front of Suzy’s picture, as Veronica tells Billy a piece of her heart is gone:

Both are mirror images for Dean - Veronica-the-vampire-hunter who mourns excessively, and Billy-the-vampire, who has killed the person he loved (just as Dean has driven Cas away):

Dean is forced by Chuck’s authorial hand to kill Billy, who is both a representation of his own lost son, Jack (Chuck’s cruel re-staging of the scene in which Dean almost kills Jack in 14x20 Moriah) and of Dean himself (symbolising Dean’s present “self-murder” aka his self-punishment and repression re Cas):

Nothing gold can stay....

Frost’s poem is also used by Perez as a metanarrative commentary on the sadness we all feel as SPN draws to a close. Everything beautiful has its time to fade and die, Frost says; even SPN, says Perez.

Frost’s poem also makes reference to Eden, to the Fall, and how that was, in God’s plan, an inevitability; the descent from the Godly to the earthly. 

It’s noticeable how, just as The Fall was presented as Eve’s fault in the Bible, Chuck is, yet again, trying to eliminate the feminine principle from the narrative, just as he has always done throughout SPN (which began with the deaths of Mary Winchester and Jess). Chuck kills Suzy, as the driver of the episode, and he “poufs” Becky (the fan-fic writer) out of existence (possibly into an AU) so he can finish the story the way he wants, just as he has re-murdered Mary Winchester (or possibly also poufed her into an AU) to continue the Winchesters’ suffering. 

But Chuck’s determination to arrive at a tragic ending, an ending in which the feminine principle is still subjugated, Perez suggests, can be subverted, because the seeds of subversion are already there in the story; Veronica’s secret and subversive sleuthing (slash her subtextual queerness), Becky’s emotionally open, subversive, fan-fic, and the continued yearning of the Winchesters for true free will (not yet knowing Chuck is still actively f-ing with them) despite the burden of their grief,  

If gold is the result of the final alchemical synthesis, of “masculine” and “feminine” principles, of the conscious and the unconscious mind, here represented by Chuck-the-author and Becky-the-fan-fic writer (who were once a couple, but are now broken up, just as Chuck and Amara, Dean and Cas, are currently broken up).... Then, the alchemical symbolism suggests, the darkness of the break-up stage (The Abyss, which we are currently in) can be overcome by the red (rubedo) power of the heart - Sam’s God-wound trial, his heart-connection to Chuck, and Dean’s own heart-wound trial, the loss of his (heart) connection to Cas.

Yes, we are still working on the power of love.

Love ultimately confounded Chuck’s apocalypse in S5, when TFW went “off script” and, Ouroboros-style, it can do so again in S15.

Chuck can be overthrown (transformed), Perez tells us, by his own story; and thus the story can find its own (heart-filled) free will ending. 

Perhaps, after all, something gold can stay.*   

*My usual disclaimer applies - none of this suggests or implies an inevitable Dean/ Cas romantic (unequivocal) textualisation. 

Although, I would like to think that Perez, by including the by now all too formulaic Dean-is-bisexual subtext via bisexual (subtextual) mirroring in 15x04, is commenting, meta-fictionally, on Chuck’s (aka TPTB’s) (wearisome) eternal tendency to do this, thereby suggesting that the over-turning of Chuck’s narrative control should, by rights, also include the overturning of this formula into... something new. 

[miraculous-rewrite]

Miraculous Rewrite - Gigantitan

I know what you’re thinking ‘Mod Vega, Mod Aimee, why did you guys keep this sorry excuse for an episode?’ Just trust us.

When we open the episode, we open to the fencing academy. Adrien is currently sparring with an unknown partner, we hear nothing from them and instead focus on Kagami, fencing with Marinette. It’s clearly Marinette not only due to her pigtails, but also her uniform, now altered with pink and polka dots in some places. 

Kagami is drilling Marinette on proper forms as they fight, fencing history, the difference between certain fencing levels. In between answers Marinette Asks Kagami why she chose fencing to study anyway. Was it just because her mother moved them to france? Kagami responds that her family has been warriors for generations, and she’d always wanted to learn Kempo, but her mother had forbade it. Her brother was already studying Kempo and she’d not have her children learning the same things and foster rivalry. So she took up fencing in its place, and the history of french combat with the art form fascinated her enough for it to quickly grow into a passion.

At around this time Adrien had pulled aside to take a water break. Marinette pulling away quickly after saying she needed to catch her breath. Kagami, more to make a point than anything else, touches her when she does so, saying that in a REAL battle one can’t pull away without death becoming imminent. 

Marinette waves it off, but with no one else to spar with at the time, Kagami joins her at the water benches. Adrien drawing her eye as he walks back over to his partner and encourages him about form or some shit. Not just observing him, but the ‘Watching’ of a crush. Unfortunately for Kagami’s blood pressure, Marinette notices her noticing him.

“I thought you said you respected yourself too much to be rebound?” Marinette says with a small grin. To which Kagami blushes. 

“I thought you said you weren’t going to try and partner people up on double dates anymore!”

“I did! But you can’t deflect that easily Kagami!”

Kagami takes a pointed swig from her water bottle and rests her arms on her knees. “My views on the matter haven’t changed. However, I feel as though things have shifted.” She looks down at her foil, then at Adrien. “He feels different. Something’s changed. He feels less… hesitant.” She made an experimental jab with her foil. “Like he knows what he’s doing and he’s taking it seriously. Not in fencing just...in the world.”

“Well he did almost die trying to help in that Akuma fight two weeks ago, puts things into perspective.”

“...yes.” Kagami looks far away for a moment, and Marinette is clearly reminded that the both of them had seen it happen, just because she was beneath the waves didn’t mean others couldn’t watch from above them. “Maybe I’ve changed a bit as well.”

“Are you gonna try then?”

“Perhaps. However I wouldn’t know how on my own merits.” Marinette put a hand on Kagami’s shoulder, and when Kagami looked up at her she’s got the full shoujo girl treatment. Sparkles in eyes, shoujo bubbles, the whole enchilada. 

“Meet me outside when practice is over!” 

Kagami instantly regrets this decision.

We cut next to Marinette’s room, a familiar setting as in canon, Alya beside her, Juleka, Rose, Alix, and Mylene sprawled around her chaise, and Kagami sitting on her Christmas presents trunk, massaging a headache.

“Okay guys, we’ve got a huge project and it’s all hands on deck time.”

“You found out Ladybug’s identity?”

“No! And even if I did I wouldn’t-”

“You found out HAWKMOTH’S identity?”

“God I wish-”

“Is this another matchmaking thing?”

Alya points at Alix then. “Kind of.”

Marinette runs everyone through the plan, it’s the same as the plan in canon, however Marinette has instead cast herself as ‘Lavender’ basically being standby and making sure real life doesn’t trip anyone up in order to get ‘Carnation’ that date with ‘Buttercup.’

Rose is perplexed with the naming convention as she is in canon, but before things can go too far on the matter, Kagami interrupts.

“Isn’t putting up a fake no parking sign illegal? I’m not breaking any laws for a date.”

Honestly nobody actually thought of that and there’s this collective ‘well shit’ type moment as everyone looks around eachother. 

“How about this.” Kagami stands and takes Marinette’s pointer from her. “First off, we’re getting rid of these flower names. It’s a bit fairytaleish. Marinette, you will be Battle Axe. Alya, you’re Halberd. Juleka will be MorningStar, Alix Crossbow, Mylene will be Sheild and Rose will be…” She looks at Rose, Rose looks at her with her big Rose eyes. “Pillow.”

“Now, in order to secure the Payload, we’re going to need to be clever, these silly plans rarely see the light of battle on their own. You will be referring to me in that case, as Sabre.”

Compared to the canon, when ‘Sabre’ is explaining the battle plan, it’s in a flash-forward type manner, where we actually see the plan as it happens rather than a chat about it and then seeing it. As Marinette is still running real life interference, we of course still see her helping Auguste’s mother, because that’s her role of course.

“Halberd will remain keeping watch, we need to time things just right as when the Payload reaches his transport we’ve lost. Shield, You and Pillow will in fact be cutting the wire, the Payload’s transport will be waiting outside of the car for him, as he does at the end of fencing class. Therefore as the two most innocent looking girls, you both can lead him away. Ideally with a sort of story where in which you’d need an adult of reasonable strength to help you with. MorningStar you will be setting up the rickshaw, not the romantic one with flowers that would be too suspicious. Any rickshaw you can get your hands on. And Crossbow you will be the backup should Shield and Pillow fail. Using your skates you should cause a small nuisance to the transport, get him to chase after you in aggravation.

“While Battle Axe makes sure that the two of us are in the same location, I can offer my own attempt to take the Payload home without issue.”

As we end the narration we see Marinette helping baby August up the stairs just barely out of sight of Adrien. Where in which she darts behind a pillar. Adrien himself walking up the stairs to the topmost level. To see of course, Kagami. ‘Casually’ reading as she stands at the curb. 

“Oh! Hey Kagami!” Kagami looks up and nods. 

“Adrien.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I’ve been extending my hobbies in hopes of finding something to properly relax. According to my doctor I’m ‘Too tense’ and ‘likely for a heart attack before I turn 18’.”

Adrien chuckles and Kagami mirrors this. 

“It seems as though your own transportation is late.”

“Yeah he’s normally waiting for me.”

“Perhaps I could be of some assistance? I’m sure your schedule is as booked as my own often is.”

“I should probably call him.”

We cut back then, to Gorilla, whom, now that he’s featuring more prominently, needs a name. Because calling him Gorilla casually is rude. So screw Zag studios, we’re calling him Vladamir. He looks like a Vladamir.

So Vladamir has been drawn away by Rose and Mylene, claiming that there were these guys that were harassing them and could he pretty please intimidate them into stopping? But ohhh shucks the guys who were around the corner were gone now! This unfortunately didn’t layaway him very long but of course that’s when Alix comes in, speeding through on her skates, spinning him around and stealing his blazer, shouting a quick ‘Need this!’

Which of course gets Vladamir pretty pissed and next thing they know he’s chasing after Alix. Alix is speeding away, and rummaging through the blazer pockets, she throws his wallet behind her shouting ‘You can keep this!’ the wallet nails him in the face. 

He finally trips after losing his sight and Alix gets away. Vladamir huffs Angrily and makes sure all of his stuff is still in his wallet before putting it in his pocket. 

He starts sulkily marching his way back to the car, walking juuusssttt a little faster than the akuma tailing him. 

When he reaches the crosswalk that leads to the plaza he was meeting Adrien at he watches him and Kagami ride away on a simple silver Rickshaw. 

Needless to say, this is not good on his psyche. He’s just about to tail the two and possibly get his ass Akumatized when he looks over to see Marinette, continuing to help Baby Aguste’s mom get the stroller up the steps. Auguste is still crying his little eyes out, but Marinette is clearly cheerful and happy to help. The mother thanking her with real gratitude. And Vladamir takes a breath and smiles slightly to himself before getting in the car, content in that there are still good teenagers in the world. 

The Akuma passes over him entirely despite him stopping, and with no other sad creature to draw its eye, zips over to baby Auguste. 

We then cut to Hawkmoth. Clearly Not Pleased with this turn of events. Hands pressed together, thousand yard stare, clearly regretting everything in his life that has made this string of events happen.

“A baby. An actual baby.” He looks around, his gaze resting on Emile’s pod. “The closest I’ve ever gotten to success was with Puppeteer, With Sapotis and Chrismaster they needed extra help.” he walks over to Emile’s pod. “Perhaps when they say Children are the future they mean to take it more literally than one expects.” he puts a hand on Emile’s pod. “Am I that desperate?” he asks, but sighs. “Of course I am.” He turns so his back is pressed against the pod, a deep, tired sigh is heaved and his eyes are closed, head tilted up to the ceiling as he comes to terms with this absolute farce that has become his life.

“Gigantitan, I am Hawkmoth. I’m giving you the chance of a lifetime. No longer will you be told what to do. Throw the biggest tantrum Paris has ever seen! Steal every candy you’ve always been told you were too young for! But in return, I ask you to bring me my own playmates. Ladybug and Chat Noir.”

Thankfully, for how ridiculous this episode is, the action sequence doesn’t change much, it’s just a simple few moments that need to be in line.

Things like, Gigantitan going after Kagami and Adrien’s Rickshaw and the two of them having to be separated, Adrien getting plucked up--surprisingly gently--and placed onto a rooftop, while Kagami is carried to safety by the girl squad.

We cut back to Hawkmoth for a quick moment. “Easy, EASY Gigantitan! He’s soft like a kitty. Don’t hurt him!” his hands are shaking a bit. “Don’t hurt him.” it’s almost like he’s shaken up from something that happened recently in reguards to Adrien.

Cut back to Gigantitian petting Adrien’s hair with a finger. “Kitty!” he chirps before going back to causing havoc.

Adrien looks… a bit disturbed as he opens his shirt and Plagg zipps out. “Does… Does Hawkmoth know?”

“I have no idea….”

We cut back to Marinette, whom has just gotten Auguste’s mama to safety, saying she’s sure Ladybug will deliver her baby back to her safe and sound. To which the Mama grabs Marinette’s hand, and with the ferocity of a parent that fears neither god nor satan, demands Marinette promise her.

To which Marinette does, and says she’ll tell Ladybug where she is. So like… Don’t leave from here.

From here the episode can go on as normal, with  two small exceptions

Instead of forgetting he has Cataclysm active, since as we remember, Adrien is taking the whole ‘being Chat Noir’ thing seriously now, his hand instead skidded across the top of Andre’s ice cream stand as he landed, making the upper canopy crumble as he regains his bearings.

And instead of the Girl Squad coming in with the fake ‘no parking’ sign as a distraction, they’re instead toting Kagami’s fencing sword with a big red painted ball of tinfoil on the top. 

As Miraculous Ladybug sweeps the land we cut back to Hawkmoth, one of the few times we allow him to have closing monologues. He’s still slumped against Emilie’s pod, this time actively unsurprised that he’d failed. 

“It may be time to rethink my strategy, my darling.”

We cut back to The girl squad. Kagami is TiredTM. 

“How many times has an Akuma interrupted EVERYTHING we’re trying to do.”

“If it helps Nino and I got together during an Akuma attack.”

“Luka and I haven’t been able to have a single date without an Akuma trying to mess things up.”

“Adrien’s more used to it than you might think.” Juleka responds. To which Rose continues: “Akumas started around the same time he started going to public school, so he’s probably integrated it in quicker than the rest of us. He won’t hold it against anyone.”

“Oh! Speak of the Payload.” Mylene chirps, and sure enough Adrien is walking back into the same place at the plaza. Alix humms and gets up quicker than the rest of them. Zipping across the plaza and intercepting Vladamir before he reaches Adrien, giving him back his blazer and apologizing.

Vladamir smiles slightly and reaches out, ruffling Alix’s hair.

It’s then that Kagami is pushed out onto the plaza. (literally pushed, Alya’s very impatient at this point) and approaches Adrien. 

“Agreste.”

“Oh! Kagami! I’m really sorry about-”

“It’s fine Adrien.” Kagami gives him a half smile. “It’s not your fault Paris’ supervillain has decided to become somehow even less honorable than before. Taking advantage of an infant's tears.” She shook her head. “He deserved that humiliating defeat.”

“Still I feel bad that you couldn’t take the scenic route home.” Vladimir walks up to properly escort him into the car. “Can we give you a ride?”

Kagami smiles. “I’d like that.”

“Oh! You never told me what you were planning on doing for your calm down hobby! Photography? Art?”

“Poetry.” 

She slides into the seat offered.

And hiding behind a pillar, the Girl squad watch with bated breath as the car drives away. After which Rose, with a gravelly video game character voice, says “Payload secured!”

And the group high five.

[verobatto]

Destiel Chronicles

(Vol. XXX)

It was a love story from the very beginning.

I'll go with you

(7x21/7x23)

Hello my friends! Ready for this last meta from season 7??

We are going to talk about Crazy!Cas a lot (as you know, he wasn't crazy at all...) And the last episode, so much Destiel material...

I want to mention my dear friend @agusvedder here, she made the gifs for this Chronicle and discussed with me the episodes, thank you girl! 😘💕

I'll stop with the cháchara here, let's start this!

Dean get disappointed when he sees Cas seems Crazy, but he's not

I'll talk about another jewel in symbolism, by Edlund, episode 7x21 Reading is Fundamental.

Well, we have a whole and sad situation when Dean and Sam met Cas at the Mental Hospital.

First impression, Dean heard the "Hello, Dean" and his heart eyes are displayed immediately, he also compliments him...

CASTIEL: Hello, Dean. Sam.

SAM: Hey, Castiel.

DEAN: Look at you, walkin' and talkin'. That's – that's great, right?

When Dean sees Castiel's behavior is not the same as always, his attitude with him changes.

After this, we heard Cas saying this...

DEAN: Okay, just hang on, Cas. Wait. Let us catch up to you for a second.

SAM: So, you're saying you remember who you are, what you are.

CASTIEL: Yes. Of course. Oh. Outside today, in the garden, I followed a honeybee. I saw the route of flowers. It's all right there, the whole plan. There's nothing to add.

When Sam asked if he remembered who he was, Castiel quickined his words, and changed the subject, to a totally different issue... Bees.

And this could sound like words coming from a lunatic, but if we dig on his words, we we'll find out why Crazy! Cas wasn't crazy at all...

When he's talking about bees, he's talking about a community, perfectly assembled to fill with one plan. Here, Cas is symbolizing his own community, the angels, with a melancholic tone. The plan was perfect: protect Humanity. There was nothing to add to that. But there's guilt in these words too. Because he felt he failed too, when he was Godstiel, he killed innocent people and angels. So he followed that bee, and found what his own idea about what he should be, what Heaven should be. Like an Utopia.

Each time they were trying to make Castiel to talk about the problem, and the tablet, or the past, Castiel switched to another topic, the crazy not so crazy topic . And if you pay attention, it was Sam the one that always tried to get from him some info.

SAM: Yeah, yeah. You – you said something about "The Word." Is that what's written on there?

(Sam presents the problem...)

CASTIEL: Did you know that a cat's penis is sharply barbed along its shaft? I know for a fact the females were not consulted about that.

DEAN: Cas, please, we're losing ground out there, okay? We need your help. Can you not see that?

Why is Cas mentioning that thing about cats?

Because he's grieving about the creation not being perfect. Even the cat, when he wants to copulate with the female, (even if he loves humanity) he finished hurting the female cat, because it wasn't perfect, and no one asked the female cat. He hurted humanity, he hurted Dean, he hurted badly Sam, that's why he's avoiding talking about it. He doesn't want conflicts anymore, he's closed, inside himself, his thoughts, his melancholy...

And what about Dean? Dean is trying to push him back with him, he needs his Cas, the soldier, their friend and protector. Is very frustrating for him to see Cas like this.

Playing I'm sorry

When Dean found Cas in the kitchen, this dialogue is developed...

DEAN: You realize you just broke God's Word?

It's Sam's thing, isn't it? You taking on his, uh, cage-match scars. I'm guessing that's what broke your bank, right?

CASTIEL: Well, it took... everything to get me here.

DEAN: What are you talking about, man?

Dean is trying to understand why Cas is behaving like this, and that quote coming from Castiel is just... Ugh, he's suffering so much... It took ... Everything ... Castiel lost everything, and now he's there... Trying to apologize with Dean. He's ashamed, but he's understanding the imperfection of the mission, the plan, Heaven's duty. He's there, vulnerable, to show Dean he really sorry. But he's too ashamed to do it directly... So... When Dean tried again to make him remember the painful past... Cas has to do something...

CASTIEL: Dean, I know you want different answers.

DEAN: No, I want you to button up your coat and help us take down Leviathans. (Again Dean is trying to drag him back. He misses his angel.)

But then this ...

Okay... Exactly and immediately after Dean asks that question, Cas showed him the game SORRY, because he meant it. He's depressed because he failed Dean... And I want to point right here the colors on that box... There's a piece in Red (representing Dean, but a violent and angry one) and Blue (representing Cas).

CASTIEL: We live in a "sorry" universe. It's engineered to create conflict. 

Cas is saying here... Everyone makes mistakes... I made a mistake with you.

Because then, he mentioned...

why should I prosper from... your misfortune? 

Castiel is trying to ask for forgiveness, but he's throwing excuses "because the rules in this world are like this... People makes mistakes."

And he moves the blue piece there... Through the green path, but Dean is stuck in the red home there... Because Dean doesn't want to release him from that guilt, not yet You made some of them. When you tried to become God, when you cut that hole into that wall.

Gah! Painful memory! Better change topic again...

CASTIEL: Dean... it's your move.

Okay, here we have a raged Dean throwing the

Game out of the table, he's done with Castiel's avoidance. Or craziness, or wherever, is so frustrating for him. They can finally talk about what happened, about their break up, and Cas is talking weird things.

DEAN: Forget the damn game! Forget the game, Cas.

CASTIEL: I'm sorry, Dean.

DEAN: No. You're playing "Sorry!"

Is so so painful, Because Cas is trying hard, but his shame is huge, for the first time he doesn't know how to talk frankly in front of Dean. And Dean's interpretation about the whole thing was CAS IS PLAYING WITH ME. My Destiel heart is crying...

Castiel was Severely depressed

After facing Dean, trying to fix things, and failing, Castiel had to face Hester and Inias, par of his old Garrison.

Avoiding again the horrible things he did when Hester exposed the slaughter in Heaven.

When they were in the car, Cas called Meg.

MEG: Yeah. Yeah, Castiel. It's me.

DEAN: Cas? Where? Where is he?

Dean is worried about Castiel because when he made that sigil, not just Hester and Inias, but Cas were vanished. So yeah, he's worried.

Once inside the car, Castiel explained that was his Garrison.

CASTIEL: . I was their captain. Isn't that strange?

He was proud of that, but now he felt himself so weak and useless, than he thinks is strange he was once their captain. He's feeling pity for himself. He's depressed.

SAM: Cas, why are they pissed at us now?

And here we go again with the avoidance...

CASTIEL: [to MEG] You know, those racing dogs were absolutely miserable. They can only think in ovals.

Remember Meg said by the phone they were sad dogs because they were hunting a fake rabbit? Well... That had to hit in Castiel's head... Was like how he felt right now, he was racing behind a fake misión This whole time.

And Dean gets mad again...

DEAN: Cas, don't make me pull this car over! Why are angels after us?

CASTIEL: Are you angry? Why are you angry?

DEAN: No, I-I'm... Please, can we just stay on target?

CASTIEL: There is no reason for anger.

Castiel can't endure Dean is angry with him. He can't handle that.

Look at Castiel's face when he's rejecting fight. He said "I watch the bees" as he's trying to convince himself of that. This is my decision, I screwed things up, I killed my brothers and innocent humans I should be protecting, I hurted Sam and Dean will never forgive me. No. I don't have a reason to fight. I watch the bees now.

Once in Rufus cabin, there's a dialogue between Sam and Cas super fascinating. I won't put that here, because is gonna be very large, but the fact you have to have here is their relationship changed for good, it become more profound, and because they shared their fears, they'll grew in acceptance and confidence. If you want to read more about Cas and Sam relationship, I wrote a meta time ago, and I mentioned this scene. Link is here.

Okay, let's move now...

There was a dialogue between Dean and Kevin, and we could see how was Dean feeling about Castiel, his deception...

DEAN: Oh, I don't know, man. What can I say? You've been chosen. And it sucks. Believe me. There's no use asking "why me?" 'Cause the angels – they don't care. I think maybe they just don't have the equipment to care. Seems like when they try, it just... breaks them apart.

So so sad, these words just reflecting how he sees Cas... Like he's mourning his lost again. He has Castiel alive, but he isn't his Cas.

He saw how he broke, just like that time when he broke that angel in the beautiful room.

Is so, so heartbreaking...

Then... Another reason for Castiel's depression, through Meg's words...

MEG: Look, I'm simpler than you think. I've figured one thing out about this world – just one, pretty much. You find a cause, and you serve it. Give yourself over, and it orders your life. 

Castiel's cause to fight isn't there anymore, as I said before. He failed in his mission to protect Humanity, and he failed Dean. And he thinks Dean won't never forgive him... So there's no reason to live for him...

And then Hester...

Hester is a thunder in Castiel's head, the whole episode she says things brutally, this quote here, is huge. How can Cas fall in every way imaginable? Is disobedience? Yes. In Sanity? Yes. In Cruelty? Yes. In love? Yes. And the Cause: Dean Winchester.

Look at this scene, is very known in the fandom, but... Hester is talking to Dean...

DEAN: Whoa, whoa, whoa. Back off. We're actually trying to clean up one of your angel's messes! You know that.

CASTIEL: He's right. An angel brought the Leviathan back into this world, and – and they begged him. They begged him not to do it.

See how CAS is talking about himself in third person. Avoiding that fact for the shame and guilt he's feeling.

DEAN: Look, just give us some time, okay? We will take care of your Prophet.

Cas is nervous, Dean is frowning, and Inias is looking at Dean with the same disgusting face as Hester. After everything you have taking from us? They lost his Commander, the Great Castiel since they came back from rescue Dean. They lost their leader Because of Dean. The very touch of you corrupts. When Castiel first laid a hand on you I'm Hell he was lost! They blame Dean. They blame the bond between them. Is dirty. Disgusting. Corrupt.

After all this... Cas wanted to die... Really... When Hester had him surrended, on his knees, Cas wanted to die...

Look at Castiel's slight smile there, he thinks his nightmare is gonna finish there... But Meg won't let that happen.

Castiel have a reason to fight again, Because Dean forgives him

In episode 7x23 Survival of the Fittest, there's a comical comment about Cas appearing naked covered in bees in Dean's car... We never saw that idk why... But... Yeah.

But let's talk about this dialogue here (after "He was your boyfriend first" famous quote of Meg)

CASTIEL: Well, Dean, I've been thinking. Monkeys are so... clever, and they're sensible in that they leave the skins on the bananas that they eat. Is it really necessary to test cosmetics on them? I mean, how important is lipstick to you, Dean?

Well... As crazy as this sounds here .. he's talking about humans and Leviathans making test on them, he's worried about humans being eating and tested in experiments by Roman. That's why he decided provide the Winchesters from some info.

But when Dean wants more from him, the avoidance is there again...

DEAN: Um, I'm sorry. If the angels are dead, where's Kevin?

Angels+death...

CASTIEL: I could steal them from their cages, the monkeys. But where would I put them all?

Keep talking about humans, how to save them... Not using force. And Dean gets mad again...

After this, Castiel keeps taking care of the Winchester by cooking for them. How cute .. but Dean wants more from him. He wants him to fight.

They had said goodbye to Bobby again... And Cas watched the whole scene ...

When Dean gave up with that fact, he asked Castiel to fly him back to get Baby.

And we will have this beautiful Destiel scene...

CASTIEL: I'm not good luck, Dean.

DEAN: Yeah, but you know what? Bottom of the ninth, and you're the only guy left on the bench... 

This is a beautiful quote ... Is Dean saying I forgive you, look at his sincere gaze. And Cas... Cas developing instantly, his heart eyes... Because those words warmed his heart, and gave him back his mission. Dean was forgiving him. Finally.

And Dean's face when he sees the response he got from CAS... Those eyes looking back at him with such love. He felt kind of uncomfortable... Maybe because he said too much, he showed too much feelings on it... Maybe because he sounded more than just a friend right there... So the... What? Is a rhetorical question... He knows what.

And the excuse is...

Look at this now... I'll probably die tomorrow, so... Remember when he said Bobby should forgive Rufus? Because when death is in your door you have to have your friends and family with solved issues? Well... He used this excuse... And what he obtained from CAS was his loyalty and love again. His ally, and that surprised Dean. Suddenly, Cas was his Cas again. No more craziness... What happened? What made the difference? Dean's forgiveness and warm words made the difference. Castiel is back.

By the end of the episode, Castiel will be protecting Dean again, putting himself between him and Roman.

To Conclude

Edlund's episode was rich in symbolism and showed us a very depressed Cas, each word that came from his mouth were trying to say something else. He wanted to die because Dean couldn't forgive him and because all the bad things he did when he was Godstiel.

When Dean finally forgives Cas, he returned to live, literally, and had his mission back. These were two very romantic episodes and the subtext was huge.

I hope you like this last one! See you in season 8's Chronicles next week! 😘💕

Tagging @metafest @magnificent-winged-beast @emblue-sparks @weirddorkylittlediana @michyribeiro @whyjm @koshisekisen @legendary-destiel @a-bit-of-influence @thatwitchydestielfan @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @lykanyouko @evvvissticante @savannadarkbaby @angelneedshunter @trickster-archangel @dea-stiel @poorreputation @bre95611 @thewolfathedoor @charlottemanchmal @neii3n @deathswaywardson @followyourenergy @dean-is-bi-till-i-die @hekatelilith-blog @avidbkwrm @anarchiana @mishka-the-angel-of-saturday @dickpuncher365 @vampyrosa @foxyroxe-art @authorsararayne @anonymoustitans @mybonsai1976 @love-neve-dies @wildligia @dustythewind @wayward-winchester67 @angelwithashotgunandtrenchcoat @trashblackrainbow @deeutdutdutdoh @destiel-is--endgame @destiel-shipper-11 @larrem88 @charmedbycastiel @ran-savant @little-crazy-misha-minion @samoosetheshipper

@shadows-and-padlocked-hearts @mishtho @dancingtuesdaymorning @nerditoutwithbooks @mikennacac73 @justmeand-myinsight @idontwantpeopletoknowmyname

If you want to be tagged, just let me know.

If you want to read the previous season 7 metas... Here are the links Vol. XXV, XXVI, XXVII, XXVIII, XIX.

Buenos Aires, September 25th 2019 8:12 PM

[norahastuff]

Oh boy, we’re getting right back into it I see. The episode starts on Earth 2 with us learning that Hillary Clinton is campaigning for her second term and things seem to be ok in this particular world...right before Chuck makes his appearance and we quickly learn that isn’t going to last.

There was a lot going on in this episode but I’m going to focus mainly on my favourite character on this show: Free Will. 

After finding a captive audience to monologue to, Chuck shows him all the different worlds where the story played out the way he wanted it to. In all of them it’s just Sam and Dean. Always just Sam and Dean. And then he points to our earth. The one where the story’s not playing out the way he wants it to, and yet that’s also the very reason he’s fascinated by this one earth. 

He is literally pointing at Dean and Cas. The shot focuses on Dean and Cas for a lot of the scene and yet Chuck still doesn��t mention Cas’ name or even acknowledge that he’s there. He still keeps talking about Sam and Dean. 

Chuck has very deliberately been leaving Cas out of the story all season. Becky’s note on his draft “No one even mentions Cas.” I mean this pretty much goes all the way back 4x22 when Chuck told them that Cas rebelling was not part of the story. For a time it seemed like Chuck had come around on Cas and how he played an integral role in this story, but at some point, I think probably s11 or maybe after Cas placed all of his faith in the Nephilim who could bring about his destruction, he changed his mind about that. After all he opted not to bring Cas back after 12x23, even when Dean broke down and begged him to. 

Cas isn’t fated to play a role in any part of this story. God doesn’t want him there, and as we learn from Billy, Sam, Dean and Jack all have an important part to play in bringing about Chuck’s demise - at least according to her books. Not Cas though. He very conspicuously has not been given a role in anyone’s version of an “Endgame.”

Dean and Cas’ whiskey fuelled conversation was also quite revelatory. 

Cas is uncharacteristically happy...which I’m not really going to say much about because I honestly can’t tell if the show still plans on addressing that dangling plot thread, so I’m going to hold off on mentioning anything about it right now. Anyway the point is, Cas feels vindicated. 

I knew it Dean. When I was with Jack’s mother, she...you know Kelly just had faith that Jack would be good for the world, and I felt it too - I knew it! And then when everything went wrong and God took him from us, I-I was lost in a way I’ve never been before, because I knew the story wasn’t over, I knew Jack wasn’t done. And I was right.

That brings me back to what both Dean and Cas had to say about Jack and his importance back in s12. 

12x19

Cas: Thank you for coming to fight for us. 

Dean: Are you ok?

Cas: I am. I've been so lost. I'm not lost anymore. And I know now that this child must be born with all of his power.

12x23

Cas: You don't have to worry. The child, he opened this door. He'll close it.

Dean: You sure about that?

Cas: I have faith. 

Dean: Really? In your unborn baby-God?

Cas: Yes.

Dean: Well then you’re a dumbass. 

There are a lot of interesting things going on here. Without a purpose and role, Cas has always felt lost. Finding Jack meant finding a role to play, knowing that Jack needed him and that he could help him, made Cas feel like he belonged. Cas feels that his place in the Winchester family is so tentative, which explains why he clings so tightly to being useful. With Jack he’s useful. Of course he loves Jack with all his being too, but Jack also needs him. 

There's also the not so small issue of Dean and Cas' big fight this season. One of the things Dean said to him was the very thing that Cas has been afraid of for so long. That he messes up everything he touches. That he keeps on failing. Dean and Cas may have forgiven each other and patched things up, but that doesn't mean that Cas doesn't still think that what Dean said had some truth behind it. It's what he's been thinking about himself for so long anyway.

Thinking he finally got something right, that he made the right decision when it seemed to everyone else like he was messing up...I think Cas the way Cas feels can only be summed up by this Raymond Holt gif

And that’s all well and good Cas and I’m glad you’re having a moment of feeling good about yourself, but the thing is Cas is still only seeing his self worth as existing when he’s in service to others. He’s not putting his own wellbeing first, second, or really anywhere in his priorities. If that Connect 4 game is prescient of anything, it seems Cas is still more than willing to sacrifice himself in order to let those who he thinks is worthy, those who have been singled out by the cosmic beings, win the game.

Cas is forgetting the most important thing. It doesn’t matter what the Cosmic Beings want. They don’t care about the people. That’s the biggest difference between our heroes and the Higher Powers, they always put the people first. They’re all that matters. Kaia mattered. They all do. Chuck doesn’t get that, and Billie doesn’t either. Like she said she’s in service to the bigger picture. And if we want to talk about the number one rule of Winchester stupidity, it’s always putting the seemingly inconsequential humans first, regardless of the bigger picture. 

I don’t know exactly where Cas’ story is leading, but something tells me he, (actually all of tfw really) is going to get a refresher in the importance of free will and not putting all your faith in what’s supposedly already been decided. Whether that lesson’s going to be a painful one...well you’re watching Supernatural after all. Let’s hang on for the rest of this ride. Here’s hoping there’s peace when we’re done.

(Ok sorry about that last line. Turns out my dad joke impulses are stronger than I am!)

Ooh also one last thing, they’ve repeatedly emphasising how much “I’m fine” actually means the opposite for a while now, but to go from Chuck saying “everything’s fine” to him immediately sending meteors to blow up a universe? Well if anyone missed the memo, they’ve got it now!

[mittensmorgul]

Blood and death and monsters

The tnt loop ran through 13.09 today, and I’ve been trying to process just how much it resembles 15.08, or at least “this point in current canon” at the time I’m writing this. With Dean and Cas staring down a portal to Purgatory, and 13.09 ending with Sam and Dean trapped in The Bad Place because of another portal, I feel like all the same themes and narrative undercurrents are at work again in mid-season 15.

“Dreamwalking,” and Kaia as a character, tied so powerfully to a version of herself in another world that every time she closed her eyes she found herself literally IN that world, but her alternate self not exactly doing anything to protect her from it, either... it’s interesting...

Jack “showing” Sam and Dean the “truth” about what was happening to Mary in the AU, thus motivating them to get there and save her as fast as possible, at all costs... Like Cas “showing” Michael the “truth” about Chuck, to hopefully motivate him to do what’s right and help them find a way to stop Chuck.

But Kaia’s role in this episode is fascinating, and it makes me 100% believe that if Wayward had gone to series, we would’ve had a resurrection of Kaia by the end of s1. And it makes me believe that Eileen may have been part of that... only now everything’s been smooshed up into Supernatural, and things are happening differently. But the themes are killing me here.

Her actions in this episode so closely mirror Eileen’s in 15.08 that it’s... super dark and on the nose. She just wanted to be left alone to do her thing, to protect herself the way she always had, like Eileen wanted to hunt and do her thing without interference from Sam. But Kaia was not acting entirely of her own will, since she was still powerless to her alternate self. Like Eileen was not free from Chuck’s meddling in her life, in luring Sam to Chuck. The “agreement” they reached after Sam nearly got himself killed following her in the first hunt in 15.08 pretty much guaranteed that Eileen would bring Sam along with her when she believed her friend was in danger. Just as Kaia was lured into the trap the angels laid for her, believing them to be her salvation (getting her away from Jack and the rehab facility), when they were only using her as bait for the Winchesters.

Which brings me to the title of this mess:

Kaia: It's not a gift. It's a curse. When Derek walked, he was free. He could go see beautiful things, to worlds that were paradises. I wish it was like that for me, but it's not. I only go to one place– the Bad Place. It's just... blood and death and monsters.

And then Jack showed her those “paradises” that Derek could see. He’s pretty good at convincing people to side with him by showing them “paradise.” That’s how Jack won Cas’s loyalty in 12.19, after all. But the point was, Derek was free to choose what he wanted to see, where he wanted to go. Kaia was only tied to this one horrific reality where another version of herself existed in this nightmare of blood and death and monsters.

Sounds... it sounds a lot like Purgatory.

[eta because I accidentally posted this before I was done... >.> Let’s not forget Chuck’s monster obsession, both in looking back at past canon from leviathans to s14 and AU!Michael’s plan to destroy the world via monster, and what little we know of Chuck’s Big Ending he’s working toward... blood and death and monsters.)

Where we were left staring at a rift into at the end of 15.08.

Kaia’s experiences were all too real, not “dreams.” She’s injured there, then she’s injured here. Almost like 10.11 and “Good and Dark Charlies” experiencing the same injuries. Like she split herself apart to visit that other world. I don’t know what this means for the metaphysics of it all, which I’m sure we would’ve gotten into more deeply in Wayward, but it’s a concept I feel is important to understanding Chuck’s larger creation in general. It’s all reflections of himself and his story. It’s all his creation. The Bad Place and the paradises, and everything in between.

Jack: If they get up here, they'll kill you all and take me. Kaia: No, they won't. You said I could help you find the door to another world, right? Jack: Yes. [The angels attack the sigil again] Kaia: Let's do it. Let's get out of here. Sam: Hey, can you take us to our mom? [The angels attack again] Dean: Can you do it?! Jack: I don't know. I think so. Sam: What if something goes wrong? [The boat shakes again] Dean: Something already is going wrong! Jack, do it.

And here we stand on the precipice again in 15.08, where something is already going wrong. Sam has been taken by Chuck, Dean and Cas are on the verge of leaping into Purgatory through a portal opened by Michael that they have to trust will remain open for 12 hours while they search for a flower that might or might not even exist.

It’s a lot. But it’s also a lot of 13.09.

(and bobo, who wrote 13.09 and 13.10 has also written 15.09... pray for us all)

[physical-manifestation-of-spite]

Jam - a Doctor Who Fanfiction

 Rating: General Audiences (but it has some bad words in it)

Warnings: Cursing and jam violence (they’ll see me in court)

Categories: F/M, Gen 

Relationships: Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler, Tenth Doctor & Rose Tyler 

Genre: Humor

Chapters: 1/1

Words: 5947

Summary: In the unfortunate circumstances of the universe, all the Doctor had to be was the Doctor--which was to say, absolutely bleeding Mad--and the rest would follow. “The rest” being a chemical reaction resulting in fizzling, sticky goo, the distinct smell of sulfur, trioxygen, and cherries, and Rose Tyler’s infamous Look. Or: The Doctor smears himself with jam, and Rose suffers.

Read on Ao3 (advised, because I really didn’t want to have to re-italicize everything I wrote, and so I didn’t.)

--

The Doctor was an odd one.

It didn’t have to take long to know this. In fact, it didn’t have to take more than a second to know this. All it took was one look.

It wasn’t that the Doctor was particularly unfashionable. In fact, one could argue that his wardrobe, all tucked safely away in the many storage rooms of the TARDIS, contained the costumery needed to infiltrate the Buckingham Palace to look like the guards, the ministers, or the royal family themselves. No, no, the Doctor was quite alright with fashion, pinstriped suit and long-coat a frequent favorite of his, the slowly-browning converse betraying the clothing’s formality. And it wasn’t any unusual shade of skin color, like a blue or mauve, that suggested his non-nativeness to Planet Earth (the Doctor often enunciated “Puh-lanet” with a pop of his lips and a cheery grin). In fact, nothing really was odd about his appearance. (Well, save for perhaps his wild hair.)

Except the eyes.

Such glee in those eyes, such a wild fascination with the unknown--or perhaps known to him, but forgotten. They glinted at the most inappropriate moments, barrel of a gun (the shape, the material, and Earthly--or unEarthly--manufacturer varied daily) pointed at his head, or spinning razor heading toward the belly of one of his companions. Their respective aggressors would say something--and they always did --and the Doctor’s eyes would gleam with a sort of unbridled excitement. Then, he’d open his mouth.

Cheers to you if you could understand even a word of it, aside from the “ands” and “buts,” and those he didn’t use often. He spoke science, physics (still a part of science), various forms of molecular theory, space-travel--the works, really. No one, not even his companions, quite knew if he was doing it as a tactic to distract their assailants or if he really couldn’t help himself, like a child reaching for a sugar cookie. If you were to ask his companions afterwards, they would comfortably say he was doing both, and if you stared at them long enough, a bead of sweat would form on their temple and they’d ask you to please leave, yes thank you, take some biscuits on the way out.

Point is, the man was Mad. So Mad, in fact, that it was principle to capitalize the M to prove that he was the chief of it, or at least to make sure people got the hint. It’s just that they didn’t realize he was the sort of unEarthly Mad reserved only for Gallifreyans (but since we have no other Gallifreyans to look toward for reference, perhaps just for the Doctor) and it took them a while after meeting the Doctor to realize he was less Earthly mad and more a sort of alien Mad. The eyes, coupled with that unnatural grin, often helped get that idea along faster, though.

Rose Tyler was used to his Madness. Well, she’d say “used to,” but a better term would be better-to-adapt-to-it-in-a-high-stress-situation-instead-of-stare-at-him-blankly. Was there a word for that? (The answer is yes, and the word would be “acclimated.” Or “conformed.” Or maybe just “patient.” If you’re not reading this in the Doctor’s voice, you should be. In the same way his Madness is a part of him, so is his wise-assery.)

Rose wasn’t particularly immune to his Madness, but she had managed to develop what they both agreed upon (nonverbally, and without any prior conversation, consideration, or even hand-gesture) as The Look--a sort of defense mechanism. The Look was rather versatile in its meanings, adapted to the many changes in mood to her dear Doctor and the many situations that they had been in, which had become so repetitive during their travels that she could almost pinpoint when their assailants would pull out the death-ray (“It’s a figure of speech , Doctor, I know they’re not all death-rays.”) and never get a chance to actually do anything with it because the Doctor would either physically or metaphorically tear it out of their grasp.

The Look meant whatever Rose needed it to mean. A selection of her most frequent translations went as followed:

“Doctor,” (and they always started with “Doctor,” in an exhausted sort of sigh,) ”I’m sure this is fascinatin’ and all that (to you and only you), but if you don’t shut your mouth and start doing that thing you said you’d do to get us out of this mess, we’re all going to die a horrible death, and when we’re in Hell, if there is a Hell, I’ll tell you what I meant to say at the start: Shut up.”

“Doctor, this person’s parent/lover/child/close-friend and or relative just passed away and it’s probably for the best if you stopped talking about the marvelous way in which they died by a long-lost technology that you’ve never seen but would much like to piece apart. Insensitive is the word, yeah.”

“Doctor, you are the last living Time Lord in existence, and this act that you have performed not only threatens your life but my own as well, not because I was in physical danger, but because I don’t think I could bear living in a universe where you’re dead and I’m alive, so if you ever want to see me again, you better start treating this with the appropriate level of gravity it deserves to be given.”

and

“Doctor, take that out of your mouth.”

Respectively, these translations were ordered in the frequency that they were used.

And whilst today was supposed to be quiet, a sort of “off-day,” by the Doctor’s description, the universe had a sort of nature to it. Drop a rock in a vat of water, the water will ripple. Flip on a switch and watch a light turn on. Eat Jackie Tyler’s homemade haslet, get sick at exactly midnight.

In the unfortunate circumstances of the universe, all the Doctor had to be was the Doctor--which was to say, absolutely bleeding Mad --and the rest would follow. “The rest” being a chemical reaction resulting in fizzling, sticky goo, the distinct smell of sulfur, trioxygen, and cherries, and Rose Tyler’s infamous Look, being a variant of both the third and fourth regularity.

Because, while the Doctor was considered one of the most brilliant beings in the Universe, coupled with his Madness, Rose Tyler found him, on more occasions than not, utterly daft.

--

Presently, the Doctor smearing himself with jam.

Fourteen jars of it, sold for two pounds each at the local market down William Street*. Small glass containers, three hundred seventy grams each, all stacked together and rattling haphazardly on the metal-grated floor, compact with enough pectin to maintain structural integrity and hold the London Bridge together (not naturally, of course--otherwise the architects would be using blueberry jam instead of solid concrete--but the sonic screwdriver was handy in many situations, and strengthening the pectin bonds was no difference).

It was cherry jam (only because they were out of blueberry), and when he had gotten to the register, balancing all fourteen jars in his arms, the clerk had noted unhelpfully that there were trolleys at the entrance, before she began scanning the jars. Fittingly, because of the unusual number, and because it was one of the rules in the Unofficial Clerk Handbook to ask customers questions that the clerks didn’t honestly care about, she had asked, “Wot you doin’ with all these jams?”

The Doctor had perked up. “Well,” he began conspiratorially, “if you really want to know, I’m collecting enough pectin-laden adhesives to counteract the electric flow of my ship and redirect the pulsive energy centralized on the main control panel--since, well, the central control panel sits directly above the main engine--out and back into the capacitor--that’s broken, you see, the whole thing is broken, just ca-poot--and hopefully dissolve and/or store the excess energy that leaked from three of the central components. Well, that’s for seven of the jars.” He paused to take in a great gasp of air, scratch his chin, and point to the jars. “The other seven is for me and my companion--Rose Tyler, lovely girl, likes jackets a lot--to cover ourselves in during the process so that the propulsive energy doesn’t enter into our bodies and fry the very core of us from the inside out while the TARDIS is rebooting.”

He finished it off with a sniff and a smile. He waited, not particularly for applause, but for something, maybe that sort of daunted surprise that a lot of his past companions made their first several conversations with him. The clerk didn’t give him any of that. In fact, now that he thought of it, she had that distinct look of a divorced great-aunt whose love and affection was reserved only for her cat, Fransis, while she watched the rest of the world with slitted, vengeful eyes. Not that the Doctor ever had an aunt like that, or had seen one before, but some conclusions are easier to reach than others. Besides, you couldn’t trust anyone who named their cat Fransis.

“I’m making pies for a friend’s party,” he had said.

The clerk lady had nodded. “‘Ave fun with your pies.”

The Doctor took his bag of jams, suitably subdued from the conversation.

Which led to the now, where the Doctor was smearing himself with jam in the privacy of his own TARDIS. Which, to a human, sounded odd--even to a Timelord, it sounded odd (and this time, we do not need another Timelord to compare their feelings with). But for your information, he was fully clothed, thank you--didn’t want Rose running into the main room with the Doctor in such an embarrassing, ah, disposition, even if it meant smearing his pristine pin-striped pants with jam. To be fair, however, he was in a bit of a hurry--the sharp, bitter scent of burnt insulars, for one, can invigorate one’s adrenaline levels if you had enough knowledge to know where the scent was coming from, and that it was bad --and hadn’t the time to change, so when the Doctor saw the clouds of steam (and other things, most of which humans should not breathe in) coming from all the wrong places, he all but threw the bag of jams onto the ground, several shattering in the process, and began smearing the contents onto himself, internally weeping as the sticky ooze touched his suit. He didn’t have dry-cleaning on the TARDIS.

Rose was gone. This was not particularly unusual, and he did wish that she’d leave him a note sometimes, you know, so he didn’t have to wonder about her general safety during another alien invasion that would happen in the foreseeable future (it always happened when he was around, didn’t know why), but at the moment, she was placed in the back of his mind. Alarms were blaring. The TARDIS was informing him, with the clarity of a wailing banshee, that it was eleven minutes away from exploding. Well, metaphorically. Well, the TARDIS didn’t talk in metaphorics. Well, sort of with him it did. Or he just exaggerated the stakes a bit. The TARDIS was only going to explode a little bit. The three components he had mentioned to the clerk and the capacitor (which was already broken, but he supposed it would break some more, to an unfixable state) would shatter and likely rain sparks, fire, and pulsive energy which would effectively poison him, if the sheer heat didn’t burn him alive, and then to death. Or regeneration. Which would result in another explosion.

He rammed his entire fist into another jar and scooped the contents out like an over-eager toddler, spilling half of the red jam onto the grates below. He grumbled to himself, under the din of a dozen shrieking sirens. He’d never get the smell out.

The Doctor had estimated that it would take roughly 8 minutes to arrange the jam in its suitable position, which gave him an extra three to check and double-check and triple-check the positions. In the end, it took the Doctor exactly one minute to smear himself with jam, and four to cover half of the console and two of the components before the TARDIS gave a sort of ungodly wail. The Doctor looked up in a frenzy, stared at the monitor above him, before his face become suitably pale. “Oh,” he said, as if he’d found out his sushi had eel in it when he asked for crab. He fumbled for his sonic screwdriver.

Let it be said that, when under high-pressure situations, Timelords were especially good at manipulating time to their whims. There was no actual evidence for this, but the general public assumed that there was a sort of magical--or scientific--quality to the Timelords that allowed them to live up to their names, and, if they had the will, they could freeze time itself to accompany their needs.

The Doctor felt that this was a load of bollocks. It was adrenaline, nothing more, that forced the body to work at an intense pace. And he was running on so much at the moment that he made a sort of Mad titter as he cranked several dials and sent jam flying into the Unknowns of the TARDIS (not to be discovered until perhaps three decades from now, by which the little sliver of jam will have cultivated a generous colony of rare fungus, which the Doctor won’t have the heart to disinfect). The ship gave a resounding moan, and sparks began to fly. The Doctor busied himself with throwing the rest of the jam onto the necessary components, not caring anymore about the pristine arrangement. The sonic screwdriver whirred in his hand.

Another minute. That was all he got before the TARDIS made a sound like no other, and sparks became flames. His screwdriver had gone from a wild whir to a chaotic screaming, and the Doctor made a noise that could have been intended as a curse but was drowned out by metal roaring above him. The floor rattled. The last of the jars shattered into glass. The steam was building. It was getting hard to breathe.

As Mad as the Doctor was, as much of a clever, ancient genius he acted to be, even a Timelord, living for centuries upon centuries and building his experience with humans and aliens alike, surviving unusual occurrence and unexplainable oddity, always found one constant in all his travels: he couldn’t account for all of the variables.

The TARDIS exploded.

--

Rose Tyler was currently walking down Queens Road, on the complete opposite side of town. She wore a pink-lace dress, white jean-jacket, and her high heels--dangling from her two hooked fingers--clacked against each other as she walked down the road. She had a half-eaten muffin in her other hand.

She looked rather peeved for a shoeless girl at 1 o’clock in the afternoon. Perhaps the shoelessness was what made her peeved, if any fellow pedestrians were to speculate. High-heels had a strange power of doing two simultaneous things: making a woman look exceptionally powerful in almost all situations, and making the woman Lord Beezlebub, the spawn of Hell that all should avoid, directly an hour later. It probably had something to do with the swollen ankles. As Rose passed by, local shopkeepers wisely strayed away. (Let’s call someone else in, they mused. I don’t think I’m ready to atone for my sins just yet.)

The truth was that Rose Tyler wasn’t angry at any of the shopkeepers, or at her shoes, or even at her muffin, even though it made an ugly brown smudge at the hem of her dress when she nearly dropped it. She was angry at the one thing that  had been consistently the source of her frustration, her exhaustion, and her swollen ankles, which would often lead to her tearing her hair out of shear strain or her falling asleep for twelve hours straight, on a weekly--and more often than not daily --basis: the Doctor.

It probably had something to do with their last conversation, which was less of a conversation and more of the Doctor talking at himself and then made a sort of noise when Rose asked a question. The TARDIS had apparently done something irregular, which was hard to discern for a human since all of the sounds the TARDIS made triggered that innate human instinct that said that the TARDIS was unusual and dangerous and that meant bad and Rose should very much get out to prevent her innards from exploding. But this was part of the thrill of travelling inside the police-box-shaped spaceship. Among other things. Such as the Doctor practically leaping from beyond the control panels and surveying the symbols on the monitor (which all looked like… well, it looked like alien language to her) with the excitement of a schoolboy child just recently gone out for recess.

“Oh, remarkable!” he cried, and the TARDIS made another noise that did not sound remarkable. “‘S never done that before.”

Rose felt a reasonable amount of alarm. “What’cha mean?”

“The capacitor!” The Doctor cried, still looking at the monitor as he fished inside his suit for his screwdriver. Rose wasn’t sure if that was supposed to be an explanation or if the Doctor was just talking to himself. “It’s broken.”

“ Broken ?”

At this point Rose knew that the Doctor was pointedly ignoring her. He began to scan the control panel. “Oh, dear,” he said when one of the buttons shined a color Rose had never seen before. As in a color she never knew existed. Her human mind, which could only contain so many impossible oddities, decided that this phenomenon was not something it was willing to comprehend, and she promptly forgot that the color ever existed. The Doctor sped past her.

“Doctor, what’s wrong?” Thankfully, the TARDIS wasn’t moving, so they were under no threat of crashing and being thrown around the main control room like a sack of potatoes. But the alarms were still blaring, and Rose’s ears were starting to hurt.

The Doctor disappeared beyond the grated floor down into the winding tubes and glowing lights below, and looking more greasy by the second. Rose could hear the sonic screwdriver whirring in between the pauses of the alarms, and the Doctor said something that Rose couldn’t understand. He stared unhappily at something that was blocking Rose’s vision.

“Doctor?” she urged, a tad irritably. The Doctor’s head popped back up, hair completely wild.

“Blueberries,” he said as an explanation. He vaulted himself back up and over the railing, onto the metal floor. He was shrugging on his jacket before Rose could blink. “I’ll be right back, don’t worry. Just gonna--- market, yes, probably has the most jars-- S’no problem.” He twirled his screwdriver into the air and caught it with one hand before slipping it back into his suit. His face split into that cheeky grin that always made Rose’s chest twist, and coupled with the wild hair and soft brown eyes, she couldn’t get a word out. “I’ll be right back,” he said again, and made his way toward the door. He paused and pointed to her. “Don’t go anywhere. It’ll only take a minute.”

Rose was going to tell him that his perception of time was skewed, and what would be a “minute” for a Timelord would be more of an hour to a human, and that she wanted to know what was going on, and why she couldn’t come. What she managed to get out, however, was, “Wha--” and then the door slammed shut.

In hindsight, she should have run after him, but she didn’t. She instead stood there in the still-wailing TARDIS and waited, just like he had told her to.

It had definitely taken longer than a minute. It had definitely taken longer than five. And ten. Fifteen as well. She made a strangled sort of sound in the back of her throat by the twentieth minute, fumbled for her phone, remembered that the Doctor didn’t carry a mobile on him, and made another strangled sort of sound albeit more passionately. She stormed out of the TARDIS and decided to search for him.

This had been a poor decision because she had gone (unknowingly) the complete opposite direction that the Doctor had gone. She found herself on the other side of Bristol after thirty minutes without seeing any sign, or even a trail of the Doctor (and there was often a trail, at least of several people who looked dazed and uncomfortable and obviously pretending like there had been nothing wrong). She came to the conclusion that she had gone the wrong way and mourned her loss by buying a small chocolate muffin from a local shop. She then spun around, shoes clacking against each other (she had taken them off sometime after buying the muffin, feet throbbing and on her half-way transformation into Lord Beezlebub), and made her way back.

On a whim, she called the Doctor on the TARDIS.

He didn’t pick up.

--

A white cloud clung to the ceiling. Sparks were slowly dying down, sputtering and coughing out from the wires with a sigh. The alarms, once shrieking and grating against the walls, were dead. The central control panel looked scorched along its lights and buttons, covered in a sort of blackened sticky soot that smelled like charcoal and something bitter. There was a coat, thrown over the metal railings, that was edging dangerously down into the abyss of wires and engines below. On the grated floor above the humming murmurs lied a figure, more still than the machine itself, legs crookedly folded over the metal, steam still trailing from the shoes. Beyond him, a strange thin tube, small enough to hold, fizzled in the dark, its round blue stone cracked.

Inside the TARDIS, it smelled sweet.

--

Rose was craving candy. Specifically cherry candy, the sort that you only find on Halloween night that were given by the odd old women who were missing an eye or a finger. (They weren’t actually missing any fingers or eyes, but a child’s imagination should never be challenged, and Mrs. Thompson did have a tendency to squint a lot.) The ones that you would find in grocery stores, that had the same brand and same wrappings, tasted like cough drops. Rose had privately wondered, when she was younger, if there had been a mischievous spirit that danced along the aisles and cursed the candy into sickly-sweet medication, else the candy be too powerful and become a new form of currency.

With this, she felt a bit self-consciousness, seeing as she just finished her muffin and shouldn’t feel the slightest bit peckish. She sniffed and regarded her stomach with a frown, and then sniffed some more. She raised her head.

Something was wrong. She couldn’t quite place it, with the wind rustling her hair and throwing dust and leaves and old-Bristol air into her face, but she felt suddenly cold. Uneasy. That sort of nervous sickness that settled in your gut and stewed a hot, sweaty chill in your bones.

The Doctor had emphasized, years ago, that those feelings were good, that they were built-in sensors, much like the alarms in his TARDIS, that all humans should listen to. The mind subconsciously gathered data from all surrounding sources, calculating various patterns from both the living and unliving to form a sense of normalcy, of safety, and that twist in your gut was your mind sensing that one of those patterns was off. “Listen to it, Rose,” he had said. Not that Rose ever didn’t. It was just pinpointing the what was the difficult part. What was causing the annoying twisting and churning and chilling?

When she turned around the corner, back to the empty park, and saw the blue TARDIS with its door cracked open and the trickle of smoke, she knew.

--

The door rattled against the hull when Rose burst in. She sucked in the air to shout for the Doctor, but there was smoke and mist and a horrible smell, and she choked halfway through before her eyes started streaming. Nearly tripping over her feet, she ran back and threw the other door open to let the cloud of smog out, lungs burning as she tried to cough out the muck. She staggered back inside, up the railing.

“Doctor!” she tried again. She heard a faint sizzling, a sort of hissing noise beneath her feet, beyond the railing and into the tubes and electrical wires and engines. The twist in her gut twisted more. She didn’t have to be the Doctor who know something was broken. Things that were broken tended to do things like hiss and sputter and groan, so Rose took an educated guess and assumed that the pattern wouldn’t be broken amongst universes, even in a craft that transcended space and time. She surveyed the clearing fog, heart pounding in her throat, hoping.

She felt sick when she saw something dark crumpled on the ground.

“Oh my god.”

She ran for the Doctor. He was lying on his back, bits of glass scattered around him--his head, his arms, some of it in his hair--and his legs were crooked as they were splayed haphazardly on the floor. His eyes were closed, his face covered in soot, and his clothes were covered in…

“Oh my god .”

A deep red soaked his clothes, stretched along his suit in streaks. It was along his neck, thick clumps of it dotting the skin, streaked over his cheeks and crusting over bits of stubble where he had missed when shaving that morning ( “Rose, have you seen the shaving cream?” he had asked that morning. “This one smells funny, like vanilla…” God, it was just a few hours ago. She should have told him, should have said something; the TARDIS had been making weird noises ages ago and she had thought it was all a part of the design, but she should have made a fuss, should have told him sooner, maybe if he had known-- ). The red was on his hands, like paint that smelled rotten and sweet , and oh God the TARDIS was spinning from underneath her. His fingers had made a trail, bright and glittering red, grotesquely dazzling against the dull metal, and she followed it along the floor and up the control panel. Her head throbbed when she saw fingerprints smeared over the buttons and lights, strips of red in the shape of claws. He had tried to stop it. Something was wrong with the TARDIS, and he had tried to stop it.

She couldn’t get her hands to stop shaking. The floor swayed beneath her and she tumbled down, right beside the Doctor, as her head sagged down and down and down. She covered her mouth with her hands. She was going to throw up.

“Doctor?” She reached out to touch him.

The Doctor’s eyes snapped open.

Rose screamed.

“Oh. Hullo, Rose.” said the Doctor, who was covered in red and soot and smelt like burnt fruit but was clearly and obviously staring at her, awake and not possessed by a zombie parasite (or, at least Rose hoped). He sat up, which apparently wasn’t a good idea, and immediately swayed, squeezing his eyes shut. “Sorry, sorry, excess thermal energy still coursing through. Makes me woozy.” His face twisted in a sort of exaggerated concentration and sniffed. He stayed there for a second, sniffed again, before snapping his eyes back open. “There we are.” He smiled and leapt back onto his feet. He surveyed the TARDIS, dimly lit and smog still clearing out, with an apparently satisfied conviction. “Damage not so bad, I suppose, and conveyors suitably sealed.” He leaned over the railing to stare below them. “Let’s see, one, two… and…. Three! Three components all properly contained, just in the nick of time, with some sugary sweetness to boot. I might just say…” He bent over and retrieved his screwdriver, ignoring the cracked gem as he gave it a spin in the air and caught it with a wink “An unequivocal success.” He frowned at his companion. “What’re you doing on the ground?”

Rose’s head was still spinning. “You’re covered in blood.”

“Blood? No, no, no . Not blood.” He smeared a bit of the red off of his suit and popped it into his mouth. “Jam! Not blueberry, sadly; the market didn’t have it. Which, by the way, what market doesn’t have blueberry jam? They had blueberries, of course, but not blueberry jam. Would have helped to even have some apple jam, though mind you, I don’t really expect a market to have apple jam** , sounds almost weird, apples-- You know, I don’t think the human race much likes apples. What with the story of Eden, and that one American who chopped down the apple trees, and with students bringing their teachers apples, hoping they choke--and don’t you act like I don’t know that, you can tell in their eyes-- Anyways, ” the Doctor took a breath. “Cherries! They had cherry jam, which wouldn’t be my first choice what with their lower pectin concentration, but it’s not like any of the human markets have pure pectin tubes that sit on a rack, so I had to do with the cherry jam and just aggravate the chemical bonds to--”

“It looks like blood,” Rose said.

The Doctor stared at her.“Well. Yeah. It probably does.” He scooped another swab of jelly with his fingers and examined it. “Must’ve gotten darker when it absorbed the smoke. And the pulsive energy must have unraveled the pectin bonds and… well, made it more watery to make it look… oh yes, strikingly similar to blood, yeah. But!” He popped his fingers back in his mouth, giving the jam another lick, before shrugging off his suit jacket, still smothered in sticky red, and tossed it aside to reveal his unblemished shirt. “Perfectly fine! See? No holes, no burns. My face feels a bit sticky and I think some of the residue energy is gonna settle into my calves for the next couple hours, but nothing a good bath won’t solve--”

“I thought you were dead,” Rose said.

The Doctor’s smile wavered. He glanced at the controls and poked at a few switches, the TARDIS humming around them, before he swiveled back with forced cheeriness.  “Oh, you don’t need to worry about me! My biology is different from yours; blast was completely harmless--could only give me a little sizzle, like a bug bite.” His teeth clacked together, and he fiddled with the jam still on the control panel, all burnt and filled with soot. “This helped. Not just fruit preservatives. A small container filled to the brim with sugar molecules that sort of stick together, like cement--but not actually cement--that helps with not only with binding the components together and preventing the leakage of poisonous gas the TARDIS typically keeps filtered, but to also direct the pulsive energy into the jam and not me. So,” his voice light and squeaky, “I’m fine.” He licked his fingers a third time.

Rose hated this. This pretend little game the Doctor did, acting like nothing was wrong. It burned something deep inside her, something that made her teeth itch and skin crawl. His insistent independence, the unwillingness to tell her when something was wrong, drove her mad. One could even say Mad.

And as the Doctor continued to lick the jam, Rose fitted all her malcontent into the Look, and stared at his finger.

Maybe she burned it. She hoped she did, because the Doctor retracted his finger as quickly as he had popped it in. “Right,” he said. “Sorry.” He had the sense to look ashamed.

The good thing about the Look is that it was silent, and the Doctor was a smart man. All of the things Rose would struggle to say verbally was translated properly into the Look, and the Doctor understood, or at least deduced, as much as Rose intended. As said in the beginning, this time it was a version of the third and fourth variation (Don’t put yourself in stupid danger, and Don’t stick that in your mouth),*** and it seemed that the Doctor had gotten it. Slowly, the Doctor extended his arms as a hesitant invitation. Rose, never one to refuse the offer of a hug, fitted herself into the Doctor’s arms. They stayed there for some time, Rose listening to the Doctor’s double heartbeat, and silently choked on the scent of burnt cherries.

When they parted, Rose rubbed irritably at her nose. “Just,” she huffed. “ Tell me when you do stuff like that.”

The Doctor frowned. “I did.”

“No, you said ‘blueberries.’”

The Doctor made a face that said that “blueberries” had sufficed as a proper explanation, and when Rose made a Face of her own (one terrible enough to earn its own capital F), he stepped back. They both heard a crunch.

“Aw,” the Doctor whined, and looked forlornly at his feet. The remains of a small glass jar rattled against his sole, the red mush staining his converse. “That was lunch.”

They settled for a small cafe at the edge of Bristol an hour later, and after a couple of glasses of wine, they completely forgot about the jam.****

--

* The market in question is called plainly the Fruit Market, located on William Street in Bristol, UK. It was a bit difficult to find a proper market that had inside cashiers in Bristol, especially when all you have is Google and absolutely no knowledge of the UK. (I might have just chosen a supplier and not a legitimate grocery store.) I embarrassingly discovered later that markets and grocery stores were not the same thing and almost changed the store. But then I got too attached to the idea of a rumbustious Doctor entering a homey fruit market, looking deranged with grease smeared all over his face, complaining over the fact that they didn’t have blueberry jam, and doing a general job-well-done of disturbing the peace in this little market.

** Blueberry jam and apple jam have the highest level of pectin content, which is why the Doctor would have preferred either of them to use as a sort of glue for his capacitor and other broken things. If you couldn’t tell already, I am making up 90% of this, but within reason. I did a bit of research about the chemical bonds and makeup of jams, and how pectin are sugar-based bonds that hold the molecules together and make a jam harder or softer. If you’re actually a biologist, please don’t ruin this for me; I have a vague sense of knowing this would never work, but I’m proud of my bullshitting nonetheless.

*** After this incident, the fourth version of the Look (Don’t put that in your mouth) moved up the hierarchy to become the third version, because she had to repeat it several times afterwards. The TARDIS smelled like cherries for weeks.

**** Not because of the wine, but because another spaceship had crash landed three kilometers away from their cafe (remember what the Doctor had said about invasions happening near his vicinity? Must be another force of nature, like gravity.), and later in the day they discovered that the alcohol content was a good form of camouflage, and they had to douse themselves in several extra glasses. It was a poor day for both of their wardrobes. It was also a blessing nothing flammable was on board.

[melodyalanaroster]

Messages and Curiosities

Alana had not shown up for class in nearly a week. Nora was sent from the Black Tower with a note stating that she was sick and would be staying home and keeping correspondence for her classes strictly in email.

Rayan Zaidi had spoken to Alana casually on a handful of occasions. At the beach, they established that it was okay for them to call each other by their normal names. She had even notified him why she preferred to be called “Alana” over “Melody” around campus. But he was still curious to know more about her...

One night, as he’s walking out of the Art Building, Rayan checked his phone and noticed a message from Alana’s email, and a conversation began.

“What did I miss in class today?”

“Just a lecture on Oscar Wilde.”

“Ah, so nothing that applies to me.”

“Apparently. How are you feeling?”

“Better. I should be coming back to class next week... But I’ve lost my voice.”

“Don’t you just have a common cold?”

“Yes, but my immune system isn’t the best... And every time I get a cold, I lose my voice.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, my mother isn’t the only one who gets sick easily.”

“You don’t talk about your mother... May I ask why?”

“Every time the topic of my mother gets brought up, and people are forced to think of me as “Melody Roster” rather than “The Grim Reaper” or “Alana”, I get pitied or underestimated.... I hate that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Melody Roster is expected to be Lynne’s responsible, docile, elegant, daughter. That is what has been forced upon me by mom’s fans, and the rest of society. But, ever since mom got sick, especially now that she’s better, when people realize precisely who I am in that form, they pity me because I was the one who gave up everything to go make sure she wasn’t alone.”

“I had no idea.”

“You wouldn’t. You read mom’s books, you know I’m both “Melody Roster” and “The Grim Reaper”... But, while you do look at me with curiosity in your eyes, you don’t look at me with pity or fear.”

“I see no reason to. You are a fascinating young woman. You don’t talk much at all, and when you do, its only to a very select few.”

“I have my reasons behind that.”

“May I ask what those are?”

“Take the people you know that are around me... The ones you spend the most time with... Leigh, Rosalaya and Melody. I have great disdain for the girls and a neutral feeling towards Leigh.”

“Why?”

“I’ve always been better friends with Leigh’s brother, Lysander. Leigh has always been either “Lysander’s brother” or “Rosa’s boyfriend” to me. We don’t talk much. Rosalaya used to be one of my best friends... And, well, you saw what happened at the beach when I slapped her.... That was simply the straw that broke the camel’s back. As for Melody.... I’ve given her enough rope to hang herself with multiple times over the time we’ve known each other and she’s hung herself ten fold.”

“And the others that you talk to?”

“Care to specify?”

“That rock star?”

“Cas? He’s part of the old High School group. He and I are friends.”

“That woman who runs around dressed up as a fairy?”

“That’s my aunt, Agatha. She’s my mom’s little sister. I can always talk to her.”

“What about that blonde boy who is constantly causing trouble? You talk to him a lot.”

“Nathaniel is a special circumstance. I enjoy talking to him for many reasons.”

“Special circumstance?”

“I’m going to tell you the same thing I told the Director a couple of weeks ago... My dealings with Nathaniel Jacott is my business. Please don’t pry on that note.”

“My apologies.”

“Did you know? Because of our handful of conversations, there is a rumor that you and I are together?”

“There are a lot of rumors surrounding you. Why are you bringing this one up?”

“Because this one has been brought to my attention by various people and I feel the need to address it.”

“I am aware that this rumor has been circling around the campus...”

“Are you interested in me?”

“You do realize its wrong to ask your professor that.”

“You do realize that, while you are my professor, I outrank you by society’s standards because of my R.D.R rank. So, in fact, it’s perfectly okay for me to ask you that.”

“Alana...”

“Don’t make me ask again, Rayan. I hate repeating myself.”

“It would be better for me to discuss my feelings in person.”

“That, dear sir, would only emphasize the rumors.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because, the only place I can properly communicate with people is the Tower. Unless you’d like my response strictly by text while you talk to me. So, inviting you to into my home while you discuss your feelings for me would emphasize the rumors simply because someone always has their eyes on the Tower. Its widely known that I’m the only student at Anteros who lives there. So, everyone knows that you’d be there to see me. So, please, answer my question.”

“With what you are, how would emphasis on the rumors cause trouble?”

“While I am a high ranking person in society, whose organization funds Anteros’ Engineering program, I am still your student. I am still ten years younger than you. A professor being interested in me doesn’t affect me, personally. In fact, sparking people’s curiosity is expected. I don’t even have to be around to do that. But it does affect you. You are not allowed to show interest in your students, in that form. You know that, you’ve been made aware of that on multiple occasions. You could still, very well, lose your job.”

“And if I am interested in you?”

“For multiple reasons, I’ll have to turn you down.”

“May I inquire as to those reasons?”

“Rayan, while I do find you fascinating and physically attractive... I cannot be with you. I’m sure, by now, you’ve heard the rumor “The Grim Reaper broke her own heart to protect the one she loves most.”, right?”

“I’ve heard it multiple times, yes.”

“My enemies have been neutralized. I intend to restore my heart.”

“So, it’s true.”

“Yes.”

“May I ask, who it is?”

“You already have the answer to that. All you have to do is let your powers of observation guide you.”

“Do you think they’ll accept you back?”

“After traversing through the dimensions of demons, all I can do is hope they will.”

“And if they don’t?”

“Then I am doomed to walk through this world alone. For I can love no one else.”

“Alana, you know that’s not true. You’re still young.”

“Rayan, I have loved him for years. Much longer than I’ve even been “The Grim Reaper”. I have fought, bled, and nearly died on multiple occasions to get to the point where I have the freedom to even try to get him back. I am not going down without one hell of a fight.”

“I’ll admit, I do envy him. But if he hasn’t come back to you yet, he must be blind. Women like you don’t appear every day.”

“He’s tortured, not blind. Don’t insult him. And I am the only woman of my kind.”

“I didn’t mean to insult him. I meant that if I were in his position, and you came to me, I’d take you back immediately.”

“Would you? An ex breaks up with you for a reason that you can’t possibly believe because that person would never fall in with a crowd like that, only to come back about four and a half years later with a skyscraper full of proof of what they were doing and that they weren’t lying to you... You’d take them back so easily?”

“Logically, I would.”

“You and I both know logic and reason don’t entirely apply when it comes to matters of the heart.”

“You’re right. But I have a point.”

“A lot has happened to him and me in the last four and a half years. I have to walk through Hell again to reach him.”

“And you’re willing to do so?”

“He’s worth it.”

“I really do envy him.”

Alana’s eyes had begun to get heavy. She checked the time and noticed it was getting late.

“Well, sir, it was nice talking to you this evening... But I’ve grown tired and I really should get some rest.”

“It’s always a pleasure talking with you, Alana. Goodnight and sweet dreams.”

“Goodnight Rayan.”

During the conversation, Rayan had managed to walk to his apartment. He opened the door, took off his blazer and vest, grabbed a glass and a bottle of brandy, poured himself a drink, sat down in the armchair by the window, stared at the Black Tower, took a sip of his drink and thought for a minute. Suddenly, his eyes grew wide and he sighed.

“That Jacott boy had better realize what he has before him.”