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confusedkittensposts · 1 month

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I have never been prouder of Castiel than I was when he walked out on Dean at the end of 15x3. I punched the air I was so proud of him. I was HAPPY for him. I was not sad. I was proud. Leaving an abusive situation, being honest and walking away. Not putting up with that treatment any more. THAT is how I feel about the character of Castiel. It is not about Dean for me. It is about Cas. In retrospect, I would have been okay if that had been his final scene. I swear to god I have never.been.prouder. I was like "YES. That's my angel! Bravo! Do you need me to come pick you up? Do you need a place to stay? I will drop everything and come get you right now stay right where you are. We gonna drive to San Francisco and I'll introduce you to some nice kind gay guys who will appreciate you for who you are. I will hook you tf up, dude. Don't you EVER think you deserve to be treated cruelly or like you don't matter. Come on, let's see how fast this thing can go!" Vroom vroom, motherfucker. I would've gladly been his getaway driver and put Dean Winchester firmly in the rearview.

I gonna take a guess that both the anons are same.

I confess that I have a love hate relationship with 15x03 scene, I was proud of Cas in that scene, of course, but at the same time I wish there was more, not just in the scene but also after it.

I was waiting for Cas to explode since the graveyard, but because SPN can't bare to see a fult in their golden boy, Dean didn't have to face any consequences of pointing a gun at Jack. Like even after that and blaming Cas, unfairly at that, he barked orders at Cas, did not care for his safty and made him work with a demon in Jack's corpse, Cas torn Dean apart, left him in ruins and not on his feet

I wish Cas had gotten more after leaving, I wish Billie had come to him and involved him in the plan, something like that. Or may be some friendships, maybe relationships. Just more

And that prayer in purgatory? Maybe if Jensen Ackles didn't look so pretty crying, everyone would have realised that was utter bullshit

Any way, your plan sounds good, I could have brought Ic cream

(Some day I will write an overindulgent Cas adventures after 15x03 but You should read this fic)

#anon ask #thank you for the ask #I loved the after scene comentry

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cringemesstickles · 5 months

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GUYS I JUST FINISHED 15x3 OF SPN AND IM NOT OKAY

I REPEAT, I AM NOT OKAY

#mess talks #mess talks spn #I AM NOT OKAY #supernatural #WHY DOES THIS SHOW DO THIS TO ME

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jjongleurs · 3 years

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Sometimes I just think about Cas saying "Sam and Dean are just using you, don't mistake that for caring about you. Because I can assure you they don't." to Belphegor in 15x03 and I just feel like ripping my heart out (sorry Ketch). After eleven years, Cas still felt like he was more of a tool to the Winchesters than someone they cared about. His use to them came first before any affection they held for him. That's why he always left and why he never stuck around. He didn't want to impose with his presence. He always thought to leave before he was asked to leave. The one time he felt comfortable enough to believe their affection for them outweighed his usefulness he was kicked out of the bunker by Dean and lived a miserable human life all alone. Of course he still thinks this way. He's in love with Dean, and Dean is a man with so many goddamn issues. He just pushes Cas away both emotionally and physically because he can't bear to give in to his own love and affection and hope. He's a man that fears rejection and abandonment and he's a disaster when it comes to loving Cas. It's awful. They're so perfectly and polarly matched, it's painful and near impossible to get on the same page. Greatest goddamn love story of all time.

#destiel #deancas #spn #supernatural #spn 15x03 #spn 15x3 #aria rambles #rewatch rambles #i am in pain and i want to smack them both until they start acting right #how did sam do it for eleven years

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i-am-soo-changeable · 3 years

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So, I kind of noticed how similar Supernatural's Hell and Lucifer's Hell look. This is the first thing I thought of.

#lucifer #supernatural #spn #lucifer morningstar #tom ellis #mark pellegrino #hell #spn 15x3 #lucifer 1x13 #gifs aren't mine

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musclesandhammering · 4 years

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Honestly I’ve been off my Superbatural kick for awhile and haven’t even seen the new episodes so I don’t even know wtf is going on anymore, but I’m so obsessed with 15x3.

Like, Cas... sweetie.

“They’re just using you. Don’t mistake that for caring about you because I assure you, they don’t.”

BITCH. Heart eyes.

“You and Sam have eachother, and it’s time for me to move on.”

HONEYY.

Fellow Cas stans and Anti-dean people, PLEASE talk to me about this. I love it so much, and idk if he ends up going back to them (probably 😒) but in my head this is how it ends, amen.

#castiel #Cas #anti dean winchester #anti sam winchester #ish #spn #supernaural #spn 15x3 #spn meta

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mishacollins-is-daddy · 5 years

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Cas returns to the Bunker a few weeks after leaving Dean...

*The bunker door slams shut and the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs echo through the room*

Dean: Cas?

Cas *walks past Dean*: Hello Dean.

*Deans irritation spikes*

Dean: Hello? That's all you have to say? Where were you?

*Cas turns to face Dean, glaring at him full-force*

Cas: I was away.

Dean: Then why are you back now?

Cas: Sam texted me to come by, so where is he?

Dean: He's out...

Cas: Out?

Dean: We need to talk, Cas.

Cas: The time for talking is over, Dean. Your silence said everything-

Dean: You left me!

Cas: And you didn't stop me! Every step that I took towards that door, I waited for you to ask me to stop, to stay... but you didn't.

Dean: I'm sorry, Cas. I was an ass but I need-

Cas *ignores Dean*: Where is Sam?

Dean *exasperated*: He's out. He left his phone behind so I-

Cas *narrows eyes*: You what?

*Deans' shoulders slump and he runs his hand over his face, sighing before looking at Cas*

Dean: I couldn't call you, you were mad at me. And I tried praying to you but you never came to me so I used Sammys' phone... I'm sorry Cas.

Cas *infuriated*: You lied to get me here!

Dean: How else was I supposed to get you here? I needed to fix things!

Cas: Fix things so they can fall apart again? You are infuriating, Dean Winchester. I'm the one who raised you from perdition. I'm the one who made sacrifices to save you, who mourned you like I lost a part of myself every time I thought you'd gone for good! I'm the one who-

*Cas stops himself before he says anything more*

Dean *steps closer to Cas*: You're the one who what, Cas?

Cas *looks at Dean brokenly*: I'm the one who fell in love with you over and over again, and you didn't, over and over again...

Dean: Cas-

Cas: No Dean, don't pity me.

Dean: I don't pity you, Cas. I need you... I know that I've never said that I loved you but I do. I love you Castiel but I need you too and I've told you that before.

Cas: Dean-

Dean: No listen. For me, needing someone means way more than just loving them because my whole life, I had to be the person that everyone else needs. I had to be a rock and I had to be strong but with you... Cas, you give me strength and you keep me sane.

*Dean gets down on one knee and takes one of Cas' hands in his*

Dean: You're my best friend and the man I love and I've been so unfair to you but I'm asking, no begging- I'm begging you to forgive me, Cas, please.

Cas *tugs on Deans' hand*: Get up Dean.

*Cas pulls Dean to his feet and into his arms, a hug so tight that it feels like all their broken pieces are being put back together.

Cas pulls back and places a kiss on Deans' forehead.*

Cas: I'll always come when you call, Dean. It may take some time, but I'll always come back to you.

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dothwrites · 5 years

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15.03 coda--weights on my ankles

You will find that it necessary to let things go; simply for the reason that they are heavy. So let them go, let go of them. I tie no weights to my ankles.--C Joybell C

Castiel drives for eight hours before the truck runs out of gas. He leaves its carcass abandoned on the side of a dusty highway and starts walking towards the dim horizon. At his back, the sun struggles to break free of the clinging fog of night, but Castiel keeps his eyes on the darkness ahead of him.

After two hours of walking, his body starts to feel the beginnings of fatigue. His feet throb, his head spins, and his muscles scream in protest with every step he takes. Still, he keeps walking. He can’t stop. If he stops, then he’ll think, then he’ll feel the loss of the past days crash down like the weight of centuries on his shoulders--

Castiel keeps walking.

The sun beats down on the back of his neck. A trickle of sweat slides down the back of his neck and underneath his shirt collar. His coat is stifling. Castiel tugs at the collar, trying to readjust it before he stops.

Why does it seem like that thing’s always you?

Dean’s words are a still seeping wound, one that he won’t recover from.

With thoughtless motions, Castiel shrugs out of his coat. He leaves it on the side of the road, a crumpled mess. Let someone else find it. Let the small animals, the hares and possums, the deer and foxes, use it for shelter, for warmth.

Castiel keeps walking.

He comes to a small town on the Montana state line. He finds a motel which says Vacancy on the outside and walks into the office. His white shirt has turned a light brown from the dust and sweat. His shoes are covered in a fine patina of dirt. He still has a split lip.

The cashier barely glances up at him. He asks her for one room. When asked how long his stay will be, he thinks. “One week,” he finally decides. After a moment’s thought, she rattles off a number. Castiel fishes into his wallet and hands her a wad of bills without counting. He takes the proffered key and walks away.

Underneath the shower spray, Castiel finally allows himself to stop.

He’d thought that Dean would stop him.

He plays it out in his mind, there in the shower--Dean running after him, a hand on his shoulder, tugging him around. Dean’s eyes, snapping fierce on his. Dean, demanding an explanation, Dean demanding that he stay.

Castiel doesn’t know if he would have, but it would have been nice to have been offered the choice.

Instead, Dean had watched him go, wordless, soundless, careless. Beautiful. Cruel. Human. Castiel had dashed himself to pieces on the jagged edges of Dean Winchester until finally, there were no more pieces to pick up.

Heat prickles behind his eyes. Water, not from the shower, falls down his face.

Angels don’t cry.

---

He sleeps that night.

He hadn’t been lying when he said his powers were failing. He can still feel his grace, but it’s weak and erratic. He doesn’t have enough to heal the split in his lip and so he keeps tonguing it as he drifts off, just so he can feel the bright pulse of pain.

He dreams, when he sleeps. He dreams of happier times, of meals spent in the bunker, of Jack’s laughter echoing from the walls. He dreams of the times after hunts when Dean would turn to him, the hope in his eyes hidden almost but not quite and say You wanna come and have a beer real quick? And Castiel, to keep up appearances, would pretend to think and consider, and say I suppose that I can, and then Dean would smile, bright and sunny.

He dreams of his hand against Jack’s forehead, of pouring his grace into that body until it shriveled into nothingness before his eyes. Of his boy’s voice, tiny and afraid, saying Cas please, of Jack in the graveyard, I want to love you but I can’t, of Dean biting out You’re dead to me, of the charred skeleton he left in Hell.

Castiel wakes, shivering, shaking. He doesn’t recognize the feeling in his stomach until bile pours out of his mouth, hot and sour. It dribbles down his chin and onto the blankets. The stench surrounds him and the taste fills his mouth. He swallows to try and chase it away, but it remains, vile and so very, very mortal.

He brings a shaking hand to his forehead to try and wipe away the clammy sweat gathered there, then he remembers how his hand looked splayed out over Jack’s head and he retches again.

---

It takes Sam three days to call.

In that time Castiel found a small shopping center where he used the last of his cash to purchase new clothes. Gone is the last vestiges of Jimmy’s suit. In its place he has several pairs of jeans, sensible boots, and a few sensible shirts. In the store, he’d seen several plaid shirts and he’d gravitated towards them, out of a need for the familiar. His fingers had brushed the sleeve of one--soft, warm. The feel of Dean’s arm against the back of his neck.

Castiel jerked away like he’d been burned.

His phone rings, shrill in his pocket. Castiel pulls it out and answers, already knowing who is on the other end.

“Cas.” There’s relief in Sam’s voice, but it’s only a shred. The rest is carefully blank. Any nuance is lost over miles of phone lines. “For a second I thought you weren’t going to answer.”

Castiel doesn’t reply. He listens for a few moments to the quiet sounds of Sam breathing. There’s a hollowness on the other end of the line which tells him that Sam is in the bunker. He wonders where Dean is--in his room? At the shooting range? At a bar? A surge of hot something curls through Castiel’s stomach, and he dismisses it.

Finally realizing that Castiel has no intention of speaking, Sam sighs. “Look, I guess you know why I’m calling.” Again, he pauses, inviting Castiel into the conversation. Again, Castiel remains silent. He’d meant it when he’d said that there wasn’t anything else to say.

“Cas,” Sam says again, this time quieter. Honest. “Look, I know that you said that you were leaving but...”

“Are you asking me to come back?” Castiel finally asks. He doesn’t know whether or not he’s angry at Sam. While Sam exhibited none of Dean’s petty cruelties, he certainly didn’t restrain his brother.

“I don’t...Are you ok?” There’s something bleak and hopeless in Sam’s voice. He lost Rowena. Castiel understands.

“I’m fine.” Castiel looks out over the small park. Children play in the grass while adults jog around the path. Several geese root through the grass. It’s all so beautiful.

“I just...I’m sorry, all right? I know that Dean and you...I know what he said, he told me--”

“That all your problems have been my fault?”

Castiel can’t help the snap in his voice, mostly because in some part, it’s true. If he hadn’t opened Purgatory, if he hadn’t released the Leviathan...how many tragedies could have been averted? If he’d managed to see through Metatron’s lies, how many of his brothers and sisters would still be alive? If he hadn’t said yes to Lucifer, how many lives might have been spared?

“Cas, you know...” Sam sighs. The sound is defeated. “You know he didn’t mean that, right?”

Yes he did. Castiel might not have the full force of his grace, but he has enough, enough to see the surface of Dean’s soul. He meant every word.

“What’s done is done,” Castiel says instead. Whatever faith Sam has left in his brother, Castiel doesn’t want to destroy it. “The apocalypse is over. You and Dean have no more need of me.”

A small, frustrated noise winds its way through the phone. “Cas, you know that we...It’s not about what we need.”

Isn’t it though, Cas wants to ask. Isn’t it about what he can do for the Winchesters, how he can help them. The few times that he’s asked for their help, they came begrudgingly or not at all. Always happy to bleed for the Winchesters.

Castiel has bled. Castiel has died. And even that wasn’t enough.

“Sam. You know that I value our time together.” Castiel doesn’t say friendship. There’s too much hurt on his side and too little emotion on Sam’s side for that word to come through. Though Sam never said anything, Castiel senses--Sam blames him as well. He might be better at hiding it than Dean, but deep down, deep enough that maybe Sam doesn’t even know it’s there...he blames Castiel.

“But it’s time for me to...” Castiel trails off. He doesn’t know what it is exactly, that he wants to do. All he knows is that whatever it is, it can’t happen with Sam and Dean.

“You know that if you ever need anything, you just have to call right?”

“Of course,” Castiel murmurs.

“Right.” Sam’s voice sounds dissatisfied, but he doesn’t try to stop Castiel, doesn’t beg him to come back. “Ok. Um...Good luck. I guess.”

“Goodbye Sam,” Castiel says.

After hanging up the phone, he stares at the small piece of plastic and metal in his hands. He thumbs through his contact list. The list of names is pitifully small. Worse when he considers how few of those he can actually call.

Rowena is dead. Ketch is dead. Jack is...Jack is...Sam is better off without him. And Dean.

With one movement, Castiel breaks the phone in half. Tiny glass shards embed themselves in the pad of his thumb, but he ignores the pain as he tosses the two halves in the trash can, before walking away from the park.

---

Read the rest on ao3!

#destiel #destiel fanfic #destiel fic #spn spoilers #supernatural #castiel #dean winchester #coda #15x03 coda #spn 15x3 #fix-it fic #fare thee well spn #welcome to the end #i'll stop writing this episode when i stop being sad #dothwrites

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