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hen-of-letters · 3 years

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To me, the Supernatural finale felt like a slap in the face. And then a suckerpunch to the stomach and a knee in the crotch. Afterwards some more punches, a bit more kicking, and a spit in the eye. So, here's my rambling account of just why I think it was so hurtful, and why I don't think I'll ever stop being sad and angry about how the show ended.

Stories matter. Everything that happens in Supernatural is the result of a decision. Each of these decisions carries a weight and a significance that resonates well beyond the screen.

Castiel's love confession in 15x18 is a beautiful, powerful thing. The love between Cas and Dean has been shown in the text for twelve seasons, but it had never been named in the text until that moment. Castiel's words brought their love out into the open.

However, his immediate and permanent removal from the rest of the narrative (aside from the briefest of mentions) is also powerful. He is erased from the text. After speaking, he is silenced.

Dean is silenced, too. He's never allowed to respond. With him never voicing his feelings for Castiel, their relationship is slammed right back where it came from: into the narrative closet.

Dean's love for Castiel is left as it always was: shown but not spoken. Open to interpretation. This is presented as a positive thing: there's a blank space left in the text where you can imagine them reuniting in heaven.

However, telling the audience that a love story between two men can't be openly declared and that their reunion can't be shown on screen is massively harmful. It perpetuates the idea that queer stories can only be told in the margins, in between the lines, in the silences of the text.

Claire is never shown on screen again after we hear that she loved Kaia. Kaia is rescued from the Bad Place, but their reunion is kept off-screen. Queer love is present, and at least in this case openly defined, but kept in the sidelines, unseen.

It's a phrase with a complex history, but it's telling that 'the love that dare not speak its name' came to be used as a euphemism for homosexual love. Queer love had to be kept silent out of safety. Even now, for many of us, being openly queer can endanger our lives.

Supernatural had a massive opportunity to say: queerness is not to be marginalised or silenced. Here is a love story that is central and spoken and celebrated. I think it's probably the enormous gap between the finale that we had, and the finale that we could have been given (which was the finale that the entire season had seemingly been building towards), that makes Supernatural's ending so heartbreakingly hurtful.

There's a reason, I think, why it feels so viscerally jarring for Cas' confession to never receive a reply or even acknowledgement. Disregarding every other episode of Supernatural up until that scene in 15x18, and with absolutely no knowledge of the characters, what we have is one person saying to another: "I love you". From this point on, every fibre of our being is aching for the answering "I love you, too". That's just how human beings are wired. That's just how narratives function. We hear a question and we need the closure of the answer.

When someone proposes publicly, even though these people are strangers to us, we are all waiting anxiously to hear the "yes". Imagine that you're watching a TV chat show, and then the host announces that someone in the audience has a very special question. Cut to the audience, where someone kneels and says to their partner: "will you marry me?" The camera moves to the partner's face ... and then cuts back to the action on stage. The proposal is never mentioned by the host ever again. You never find out if they said yes. Don't you feel cheated? Don't you feel, maybe, at least annoyed?

Now imagine you have two friends that you've known for years. You've grown up alongside them and you love them dearly. You think they're perfect for each other and you're sure they're in love with each other. One day, you see on Facebook that one of them has finally proposed to the other! You're overjoyed! But this is the last you ever hear from either of them. You never know the answer. You might feel just a little bit frustrated with the ghosting little fuckers. Yes, you can imagine that they're ridiculously in love and they've moved to Maui, but you never know. They might be dead in a ditch. They might be utterly miserable. You just never, ever know.

I swear, I'm normally all about the ambiguity, the open ending, the delicious possibilities of uncertainty. But here the question was too clear, the answer too obvious, the significance too weighty. The entire issue of Supernatural's problematic queer representation came down to this: could we see Dean say "I love you, too"? Could we see them live as well as speak their truth? Sadly, the answer was "no".

There could have been something powerful in the death of the author in Supernatural, in the exhortation to write your own ending, in the acknowledgement that meaning is created in active, creative collaboration between the text and the reader. But this wasn't handing over power. This was passing the buck. Representation is a responsibility.

In the end, Supernatural utterly dismissed the possibility of giving either the characters or the audience the power to write the story. We could have been gifted an open ending: Chuck defeated, Dean, Cas, Sam, Eileen and Jack alive and reunited, and the audience given free will to imagine their future. Instead, it gave us the most closed-down ending possible: all three main characters dead, other characters forgotten, and with nothing more to tell.

Going back to considering characters as friends made me think again about why the finale hurt so much. Yes, the erasure of Eileen from the narrative angered me because the decision was misogynistic and ablist. But also, I absolutely adored Eileen, and wanted her to be happy. She, like every single character in the show deserved better.

However, we don't only see characters as our friends.

We see pieces of ourselves in the characters we love. When we get to see those pieces acknowledged, and treasured, and loved, we feel validation. When we see those pieces disregarded, or silenced, or torn to shreds, we feel hurt.

Consider what someone might see of themselves in Dean Winchester: a queer individual, a war veteran, a survivor of physical, mental or sexual abuse, someone who has felt worthless or suicidal, a caregiver who has sacrificed their own needs for the sake of another.

What killing Dean says to these people is: there is no place for you in the world. The only 'peace' for you is death.

The same message can be read in Castiel's death. It's Castiel in whom I saw a piece of myself. I'm nearly 40, and when I started watching Supernatural in 2005, I didn't yet realise that I was maybe non-binary and definitely bisexual. The world looked at my body and assumed I was a woman. The world assumed I was straight. I was being told a story about myself. It wasn't until later that I realised that there were other stories, that there were other words that I could use about myself. Castiel's story was one that I could identify with (if I'm honest, mostly because of our shared social awkwardness), so his death said to me: if you speak your truth, you'll be shut down and forgotten. Happiness is not something you can have.

The deaths of Castiel and Dean find their bleakest mirror in that of the Kaia from the Bad Place. Not-Kaia wants to return to her own universe, even though she knows it is dying. She feels she doesn't belong in this world: "This place is cold. I don't understand it. I don't know how to move through it. So I just find empty spaces and I hide. This world doesn't want me, and I'm done with it." And, honestly, haven't most of us felt exactly like that at one time or another, for whatever reason? If we've felt different or excluded, if we've experienced physical or mental ill health, if we've felt like an outsider? Although Sam and Dean do try to get her to come back with them, she accepts death - just like Castiel and Dean. Visually, the moment closely resembles Castiel's demise: she's enveloped by blackness, her serene face the last thing to be covered.

Alternate Kaia is the embodiment of otherness. Her hopeless, voluntary annihilation is incredibly troubling. I wonder though if perhaps this moment is the text criticising itself: Alternate Kaia chooses death because the world is hostile towards her. If we marginalise others, if we tell people that who they are means that they have no place in the world, if we tell people that they can only exist in silence and in the shadows, then these people will feel despair. Depression and suicide are a real concequence of exclusion and marginalisation.

In contrast, we're shown Kaia being accepted by Jody. Castiel has already acknowledged that Jody is Claire's found family, and we know that Claire loves Kaia. Here is a hopeful mirror: Kaia, who has been set up previously as an analogue to Castiel, finds acceptance, and love, and a found family.

Dean and Castiel could have been given Claire and Kaia's ending, but instead they die like Alternate Kaia. The world doesn't want them.

I think that the erasure of difference is why the finale feels so flat to me. So empty, so hollow, so silent. The brothers' diverse found family is killed off or forgotten (like Kevin Tran, presumably left to wander the earth forever as a ghost); women are erased; people of colour are erased; queerness is erased. Sam and Dean are reduced to being cardboard cutout versions of themselves, devoid of complexity, with nothing to say.

For 15 years, Supernatural has said: choose free will. You can make your own destiny. You can write your own story. Love can defy the will of God himself. You can be loved and supported by a family that you choose, even if you are rejected by your blood. In the final episode, every single one of these ideas was systematically trashed. It hurt.

What gives me hope, though, is how the fandom responded to this hurt: with creativity and kindness. Immediately, fundraisers such as The Castiel Project and Dean Winchester is Love were set up & have raised a massive amount of money. I don't think I'll ever stop being awed by this.

#spn 15.20 #destiel #dean deserved better #castiel deserved better #eileen deserved better #sam deserved better #every single character deserved better #we deserved better #tw suicide

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adhdeancas · 3 years

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Sunset Sound: Gallows Pole

In the midst of the Lawboy shitposting, a Sam-centric chapter to see what he got up to after Dean went to hell. Special thanks to my bro @friedchickenangelwings for keeping me in check forever and always, I wouldn’t be able to do this without you.

Sam sobs. He can’t help it; he can’t do anything else. His big brother’s body is impaled on the post in front of him, the ground is littered with beheaded bodies, and two little boys are crying outside somewhere in the dark. And he can’t stop crying.

“It’s not okay. It’s not!”

He tries to take back those words that had made his brother leave, but Dean's chest doesn’t shudder back into life, and it won’t. It hangs there, heavy and lifeless, and it always will. Dean is dead.

And for what?

When Sam’s head starts to pound from the tears, he finally takes breaths to calm himself. Common sense floods back into his head and overtakes his grief, and he pulls Dean’s body off the stupid rusty nail that killed him. He lowers him to the ground and closes his eyes, because he can’t bear to look at his dead stare any longer.

He doesn’t want to leave the barn. He knows he has to, but he doesn’t want to leave his brother there all alone. That’s what Dean had always been most afraid of: being alone. He stands frozen to the spot for more minutes than he should, trying to reason with his grief. Finally, finally, he wins, and he turns around to see his breath in the air before him. Sam immediately gasps, another desperate sob coming from nowhere, because the night isn’t cold enough for that.

“Dean?” He screams it. “Dean!” It’s gotta be him, Dean’s a ghost, Dean’s here, Dean’s trying to talk to him. “Dean!”

“No, I’m sorry, Sam.” Kevin Tran flickers to form in front of him, pity and sadness in his eyes. “But Dean’s okay.”

Sam rubs his eyes. He thinks for a second he’s hallucinating again, that losing Dean for real broke down all the sanity he’d built over the years. “K-Kevin?” Though he didn’t know it was possible, his stomach takes yet another plunge, like a boulder has just been dropped on him. Kevin’s incorporeal form shakes into being the thought once more that he did that, his hands killed Kevin, he’s the reason Kevin is a ghost. He’s in a room with the corpse and untethered soul of two people he loves and two people he watched die.

As if sensing all the ways Sam is shaking apart, Kevin nods and starts to reach out before realizing it would be no use. “Yeah, Sam, it’s me.”

“But- w-w why?” Sam curses his voice for failing him, curses the shaking that sobbing left him with, curses it because he needs to be strong now. For Dean. “Why didn’t you help us?” A ghost would’ve been a great thing to have in a fight! A ghost could probably, I don’t know, push Dean away from a deadly-sharp hook on the wall? If Kevin has been here, why- “Is Dean in the veil? Can he hear me? Dean!”

Kevin throws a gust of air in his face to get his attention, and it hits Sam like a slap. He looks back at the ghost, wideyed. Kevin looks apologetic. “I don’t have a lot of time, but you need to calm down. Seriously.”

“I can’t calm down-”

“No, Sam, you need to calm down.” Kevin looks upward nervously, as if he’s expecting to see some big figure raise the roof of the barnhouse up and peek down at them. “I’ll explain, but first thing you need to know is: Dean’s dead. He’s in heaven, and he’s in trouble.”

---------------------------

Sam drives the Impala at exactly the speed limit, eyes dried to the point of aching. Dean’s wrapped body is sprawled out in the back seat, and if Sam just glances in the rearview mirror he can almost pretend he’s just passed out. Just had one too many shots of Cuervo and conked out so his little brother can drive. Sure. Whatever gets you through the night.

Dropping off the kids was easy. Traumatized kids don’t say much, don’t ask too many questions, and they’ll forget the shellshocked stranger that saved them soon enough. Either that or he will haunt their nightmares, but Sam can’t help that. He can’t help anyone at this point, covered in dirt and blood and exhausted. He drives out to the middle of the forest anyway, Kevin’s words on a loop in his head.

“You have to be normal. Chuck can’t want to watch you at all. So just play into his game. Pretend to only care about Dean, get out of the life, settle down.”

Sam had frowned, Eileen instantly springing to his mind. Surely he can care about her, right? “But-”

“No, Sam, I’m sorry. Dean told me to tell you that Eileen… it’s just too dangerous. He likes you two. He’s gotta hate your life so much he doesn’t want to see it. It’s gotta bore him.”

So Sam burns his brother's body in a forest alone, with only Miracle for company. There’s a dagger in his chest that tells him he’s betraying everyone he cares about, including Dean. Dean wanted a big funeral. He wanted his whole family there, not just his brother and a dog. And Eileen. There are three unread texts and a missed video call from Eileen already. Apparently Kevin hadn’t visited her yet. To let her know.

It doesn’t take Sam long to leave the bunker. It just feels like a punch to the gut at this point. That table over there, carved with their family’s names, that’s where he and Dean swore they’d be free. They swore they’d get everything they wanted and everything they deserved. And now Sam has one pillow on his bed and an empty bunker full of the possessions of dead people.

He knows there is a plan. He knows that. And it should comfort him, but it doesn’t, because he still has to live his long, boring, lonely life without the woman he loves or the family he misses or the brother he mourns. Time on Earth is torturously slow.

The small things make the ache in his heart just a little lighter. He finds a job he likes, teaching history and the classics to teenagers. He remembers his old English teacher, and he tries to be that to kids that need it, kids that remind him of Claire or Jack. He gets to see Jody and the girls once every few years, a risk that he knows is worth it because it keeps him going. He can’t see Eileen. It would hurt too much. They both agreed the one time they called. He keeps learning ASL anyway, and he tells the story of him and Eileen meeting (slightly modified) to the kids in his class.

He finds a wife. It was one of the things he put off, but after three years he knows he has to get on with it or he’ll get depressed. He needs someone, even if she is boring and too-nice and entirely too gullible. She’s nice and he’s good to her, but he can’t love her because she’s not real. Not in the way that Eileen is. She might as well be a blurred out mother figure action doll, for all she knows. And he hates himself for marrying her, when she deserves someone who finds her boringness interesting, but he knows this is what Chuck expects. He expects Sam to marry a nice woman and have a kid named Dean and grow old always hurting for the old times. Oh, and Sam does.

He’d rather be back in the pit with Lucifer than this domestic djinn dream, but he reminds himself every day that someday they’re going to get rid of Chuck and then he’ll be able to live. Dean too. Cas too. And Jack. Sam’s going to kill that son of a bitch if it’s the last thing he does, living or dead. And it looks like it’ll be dead.

His fiftieth birthday has come and gone when Kevin finally comes back. The lights in Sam’s classroom flicker and go out, and then Kevin is there, chest heaving. He runs to the chalkboard and picks up a piece of chalk, and Sam’s talking as he writes.

“Kevin, how’s Dean? Any updates on what’s happening in heaven? Is Chu-Jack okay?”

Kevin turns around, irritated, until he sees the look on Sam’s face. “Yeah, listen, everything is… fine. We’re working on it. Look, the important thing is that you get these ingredients-” he points to the chalkboard, “and perform the spell. But listen, it’s gotta be next week. Friday. There’s a full moon, it’s… you gotta make it happen.”

Sam’s eyes bulge. “Friday? Kevin, what the hell, a little notice would be nice! How am I supposed to get-” he looks past him to the hastily written ingredients. “These ingredients are insane! It’lll take me weeks just to fly around the fucking world to grab them!”

Kevin throws his hands up, looking almost as stressed as Sam. “Listen, man, we’re doing our best up there! Time is fucked up and we’re trying to be sneaky and it is a lot of pressure!” he finally takes a deep breath, which seems to help. “I’m sorry, I know it’s too much to ask, but we have no choice. Call a witch friend for the ingredients, summon Rowena and let her in on the plan. It’s Friday or never.”

He flickers out before Sam can even reply. Apparently the stress and talking like that took too much out of him. Sam’s left alone to say “Sorry,” to an empty classroom. He sits down heavily at his desk and runs a hand through his graying hair.

He copies down the ingredients and the spell and it’s then that he knows he definitely needs help. Luckily, he knows who to call.

The phone rings so long Sam thinks about hanging up, but he picks up just before he can. “Sam!” Max sounds winded, and the first thought that enters Sam’s head is not appropriate for the occasion.

“Hey Max, you got a second? You’re not…” busy? Jesus, Sam is blushing.

Max laughs. “Nah, you’re good, man. What’s up?”

God, to speak to someone who understands his life again. To really get to talk to them. “Uh, it’s kinda not the kind of thing to talk about over the phone. Can I drive to you?”

---------------------------------------

“Hey, Rowena,”

Sam’s natural state is apparently social awkwardness now. Dean would say that had always been true… No, not the time to get sidetracked with that sad shit. He shuffles his feet again and adjusts a candle, waiting for Rowena to appear. He’s fifty fucking years old. He’s fine.

“Hello, dearie.”

Sam grins at her, but is once again met with the sad eyes Kevin always gives him. “Fuck, can everybody stop with the dead brother horrible life shit?” She doesn’t look taken aback, no that’s not Rowena. She looks more like a school principal that just got told off by an 8th grader, surprised and a little offended. Sam softens a little bit. “Sorry, I just- listen, I get it, okay? My life is fucked up and it’s all a lie to beat God, I know. Can we move past that and get back to the saving the world stuff?”

A slow smile spreads across Rowena’s face, and she pats him on the cheek. “There she is. Hello, Samuel.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “Hi Rowena, how are you?”

“Oh, just dandy. Tamped down a few ne’er-do-wells, not a problem. Being worshipped every day is hard work, but I manage, somehow.”

“I’m sure. ‘Jack’ giving you any trouble?”

She waves a dismissive hand. “I’ve barely seen the boy since he took over. Apparently he’s much more interested in watching his little short films in heaven than anything down below…” Sam’s got a question on his lips but she waves that away too. Too little time to explain the intricacies of eternal family drama that heaven is currently. “It doesn’t matter. I have free reign, which means I can pop in for our little soirees.”

Sam nods, grateful that that’s true at least. He hands her the list of ingredients and the spell and watches as she studies it. “Problem?”

“Hm. No, I can do that.” She looks up brightly at him. “I’m the greatest witch of all time, Samuel. I’m more worried about how you will accomplish it.” She looks down at his summoning ritual and bends down to correct a chalk mark with her finger. “You’re a wee bit rusty.”

Sam scoffs. He’s missed this. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I called up my friend Max, Max Banes. He’s going to help me out.”

“Max Banes? Hm.” For a second, Sam thought he saw something flash across Rowena’s face.

“What?”

“Nothing.” She shrugs it off. “I’ve heard of the witch, that’s all. He’ll be good help for you, I’m sure. Now, Samuel, if you’ll excuse me… Underworlds to run and all that.” She steps away, but Sam stops her before she can disappear again.

“Wait!” He hugs her tightly. She only resists for a moment before she returns the hug, a light tap on his shoulder. “Thank you, Rowena.”

“Of course, Samuel. Until next time.”

She’s gone with a puff of smoke and Sam is left hugging air.

tag list (ask to be added or removed):

Tag list: @dochunterwitch @justonecitizenoftheearth @gnbrules @purpe @castiel-is-a-cat @alienapparatus @damian-janus-pendragon

#sunset sound #chapter 7 #gallows pole #destiel #deancas #fanfic #my writing #sam winchester #15x20 #fix it fic #rowena #max banes #kevin tran

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waywardnerd67 · 6 years

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The Believer & The Skeptic: Chap. 1 - Shaken Faith

Summary: As Ansley Novak is walking home from church she is attacked and left for dead in an alley. She starts to pray and is answered by someone she believed to be dead. Ansley finds out the truth about her brother Jimmy finally. Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel and Ansley Novak (OFC) Pairing: Dean x Ansley (OFC) - Eventually Warnings: Fluff Word Count: 2089 A/N: Here we go! We’ve never heard about Jimmy’s family outside of Amelia and Claire which made me curious to explore this. Since I like writing soulmate fics I thought how would it be for Cas’s vessel’s little sister to be the soulmate to Dean. Presto! The Believer and The Skeptic is born! I hope you all enjoy it. As always this is unbeta so all mistakes are mine. Likes, comments and reblogs are splendid and I will love you doubly for them! Enjoy!

Ansley Novak waited for her computer to shut down before getting up from her desk. She looked around the office of First Christian Church making sure everything was ready for tomorrow morning. Once her computer was powered down she grabbed her bag and locked the doors as she left for the evening. Ansley had not meant to work so late but she knew Pastor Stephen would appreciate having everything done in the morning. Since she lived only a few blocks away she usually walked especially during the summer enjoying the warm nights. Pontiac was a small town in Illinois and there were not a lot of traffic or people out pass eight o’clock. She was halfway home when she felt like someone was behind her. She glanced over her shoulder and saw no one. She stopped for a moment taking a deep breath and then continued to walk.

Suddenly, she was hit from behind falling to the ground harshly. Ansley tried to get back up but whoever was behind her hit on her back and she let out a scream. “HELP ME!” She heard the person attacking her growl, “Shut your dumb mouth or I’ll make this even worse for you.” The person kicked her repeatedly in the stomach and Ansley curled into a tight ball. “Lord, please send me help. Please anyone… I need help. I’m going to die. Please…” She chanted in her mind as the person rolled her over onto her back. Ansley could only make out a dark color hoodie and a petite frame gasping as she realized it was a woman attacking her. “Please, stop…” she muttered as the woman hovered over her. “My goodness you’re pathetic.” She spat at her Ansley watched as her foot came across her head connecting with a resounding crack and everything went black.

“Cas, would you bring me a beer on your way through?” Dean Winchester called out as he heard his best friend groan from the kitchen. Dean chuckled as his brother, Sam, shook his head disapproving, “What?” Dean asked shrugging as Castiel walked into the Men of Letter’s library and Dean heard the breaking of glass. He and Sam snapped their heads up seeing Castiel grasping his head. “What is it, Cas?” Sam asked as they both rushed over to him. “I… I need to go now.” Castiel stated as he rushed towards the Bunker’s door. “Hold up, now just wait a minute Cas. What is going on?” Dean asked grabbing Castiel’s shoulder. The angel’s expression was worried as he sighed, “My vessel, Jimmy, has a little sister and I just overheard on angel radio that she was attacked. She is currently at St. James Medical Center in critical condition. For some reason, this has the angels worried so I need to go and check on her.” Dean nodded as he looked to Sam having a silent conversation. “Okay then. We’ll go with you then.” Castiel looked from Dean to Sam and nodded.

The three of them made the nine and half hours’ drive to Pontiac. Dean kept an eye on his friend from the rearview mirror. Castiel continually checked angel radio for any updates and then would look out the window concern a permanent fixture on his face. By the time they got to the hospital it was six in the morning and Dean was exhausted. “Cas, you go in and see how she is doing. Sam and I will find a motel nearby and get a few hours of shut eye and then check in with you. Okay?” Castiel nodded getting out of the car. Dean found a motel not too far from the hospital getting a room for a few nights. “Did you know Cas’s vessel had a sister?” Sam asked as they walked inside the room. Dean shook his head, “No, I actually never thought about Jimmy having any family except for Amelia and Claire. Do you think we should call Claire?” Sam shrugged as they both flopped down onto their beds. “I really don’t know what to do about this. Not exactly in our wheel house or anything.” Dean chuckled and soon after they both drifted to sleep.

Around lunch time, Dean and Sam made their way back to the hospital. As they were walking up they spotted Castiel sitting outside. “Is everything okay?” Sam asked as Castiel nodded, “Ansley will be okay. She is sleeping currently. I did not want to distress her by seeing Jimmy’s face. I do not know how much she knows about Jimmy and his death.” Sam nodded as Dean sat down on the bench with Castiel. “Good idea, Cas.” Castiel sighed as he stood up, “I’m hoping with you two there that maybe she will be more understanding.” Dean shrugged leaning back kicking his feet out. “Well then, let’s go up there so we can talk to her when she wakes up. The three of them went up to the floor Ansley was on and waited outside her room for her to wake up. When she did, Dean and Sam went in after her doctor said it was okay.

Ansley’s head was pounding as she slowly opened her eyes. Her doctor came in checking her vitals and wounds. “You’re healing well, Miss Novak. In a couple of days, you we can release you, but we want to make sure the swelling on your brain stays down. There are some gentlemen outside that would like to visit with you. Are you feeling up to that?” Ansley sat up and nodded as her doctor left her room. She ran her fingers through her long black hair trying to get the knots out of it. When she heard the door open two incredibly tall and large men walked in. “Hi, Ansley, right?” She nodded as the taller and leaner of the two sat in the chair next to her bed. “My name is Sam Winchester and this is my brother Dean.” He pointed to the man behind him. “We were wondering if you remember anything from your attack?” Sam asked as she rubbed her forehead.

“I don’t remember much. It was a woman wearing a dark hoodie and she came from behind me knocking me down. After that she just kept hitting and kicking me until she kicked me across the head.” Sam nodded, “Well we’re going to help find whoever did this to you. We have someone here to see you, but we need to ask you a few questions that may seem strange.” She looked over to Sam and slowly nodded. Dean walked towards the end of her bed. There was something about him that drew her attention towards him. Normally, she never noticed men unless they approached her, but Dean was different. He was attractive, strong and unlike every man to ever approach her. “What do you know about your brother, Jimmy’s disappearance?” His voice was husky and soothing as she instantly felt relaxed.

She shrugged, “It was over eight years ago. I know that everyone said he went crazy saying he was possessed by an angel. Amelia went crazy looking for him and then no one ever heard from her or my niece Claire again. I don’t know what really happened to him.” Dean looked uncomfortable as she talked about it making her curious, “Why? Does this have to do with whoever attacked me?” She heard the door open and gasped as her older brother walked into the room. “Jimmy?” she whispered as he looked down at her sadness in his deep blue eyes. “I’m sorry Ansley, but I am not your brother. My name is Castiel and I am an angel.” Her eyes went wide and she looked to Dean who was walking towards Jimmy. “Wait? You look just like Jimmy but you’re an angel? What is going on?” she asked hearing her heart monitor starting to beep quicker. “Ansley, calm down and we will explain everything to you. Then if you want us to leave we will.” Sam said as she looked over to Dean. She could not explain how seeing a man she just met could calm her instantly.

Ansley took a deep breath, “Okay, Castiel?” She asked as he nodded. “Tell me everything.” Sam got up so Castiel could sit next to her. She looked from Dean to the angel marveling at him. His dark chocolate brown hair was disheveled and he slouched more than Jimmy ever did. It was his eyes though, his big, bright blue eyes that reminded her of Jimmy the most. His eyes that shined with nothing but kindness and care for others. “In order for angels to come to earth we need a vessel, a human, to agree to allow us to enter them. Eight years ago, I came to earth looking for a devout believer to be my vessel and your brother agreed to allow me to do God’s work through him.” Ansley felt tears running down her cheeks as she smiled, “That sounds like Jimmy. His faith never faltered and that what was my inspiration for my own faith.” She looked up as Dean scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Yes, Jimmy’s faith was most inspirational.” His smile reminded her of Jimmy so much. “So, what happened to Jimmy?” Castiel’s eyes casted down and she knew instantly already confirming her suspicions.

“There was going to be an epic battle between the archangel Michael and Lucifer. Jimmy sacrificed himself in order to save the world. Now he is in heaven with Amelia who sacrificed herself to save Claire when an angel tried to kill her. Claire, is a wonderful young woman who is strong and independent.” Sam handed her a book of tissues as tears streamed down her cheeks. “Jimmy and Amelia are both gone now but why do you still look like him?” Castiel smiled softly, “God. He brought me back just like this and I like to think that is because Jimmy’s memories, his faith has helped me out of some dark moment in my life.” She chuckled as she wiped her eyes. “Castiel, why come now? If this all happened so long ago why not reach out sooner?” Castiel shrugged leaning back against his chair. “Angels can communicate on wavelengths like a ham radio or tv signals. We call it angel radio and I heard about you being attacked. For some reason, the angels were extremely concerned about your safety. I’m not sure why either.”

Ansley watched as Dean gripped the footboard at the end of her bed. “See, Sam and I, we’re hunters and we kill anything that goes bump in the night. We also protect people, like yourself and we’re thinking you probably need to be protected.” Dean’s olive eyes seeing the sincerity in them and nodded. “Okay, I believe you. I have about two weeks of vacation built up and I can use it starting next Saturday.” Dean stared at her for a moment, “Why next Saturday? Sweetheart, if the angels are worried about your safety then we need to get you to the safest place on earth asap.” Castiel nodded in agreement looking as Ansley looked over to him. “Dean is right. We should get you to the Bunker as soon as you are released.” Ansley shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I can’t. Starting Monday my church is having Vacation Bible School and I am not only a leader for it but I am also an employee of the church. I have to be there, but you all are welcome to come. I can tell my Pastor that you are there to protect me from my attack.”

Dean scoffed, “Lying? Isn’t that against your beliefs?” She smiled at him laughing softly. “Yes, lying is bad. However, I’m not lying because you are there to protect me. Just because I am not telling the entirety of the story does not make it lying.” Dean stared at her in astonishment. She looked back to Castiel who was smirking, “She has a point Dean. We will stay here and protect you during your church activities. This will give me time to see why the angels are so worried about you.” Ansley clapped her hands. “Then it’s settled. Don’t worry guys my church is laid back.” She said as Sam and Dean looked to each other with annoyed glances. “Great kids and bible thumpers, my two favorite things.” Dean said rolling his eyes as Ansley gave him a pointed look. She noticed Castiel looking from the two of them strangely.

My Nerd Herd: @waywardbaby @waywardrose13 @carryonmywaywardcaptain @ladywinchester1967 @dwgrl1903 @akshi8278 @ericaprice2008 @mirandaaustin93 @spnbaby-67 @time-travel-bouqet @1967-essentialghoul @weirdoblogger69

#waywardnerd67 #the believer & the skeptic series #chapter 1 #shaken faith #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester x ofc #dean winchester x ofc ansley #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester #dean fanfiction #dean fanfic #dean x ofc #dean x ofc ansley #dean fluff #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural #fluff

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awed-frog · 7 years

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I know you said you'll still follow the show, reblog gifs, and finish the dcbb you're working on this year, but ahhh - I'm going to miss reading paragraphs and paragraphs of your detailed analysis! You're my favourite meta-writer, and I really looked forward to reading your opinions after each episode :) Although you probably won't be super active in this fandom, will you still write deancas fic in the future? Just for fun?

Hi, sorry I left this for a few days. Your message really cheered me up in a period that’s been hard for me - mostly for family issues, so thank you - thank you so much for all this.

As for my projects - the truth is, I don’t know what I want to do, and how I feel about it all.

[Putting the rest of this under a cut because there’s some negativity there - the tl;dr version is, yes, I’ll keep writing fiction for now and I’m hoping to post the next big project in a couple of weeks or so.]

Right now I feel let down, mostly, and as I said, part of it has to with myself and who I am as a person (someone who gets in too deep and 100%, and that’s not necessarily good), but I’ve also been around long enough to be sure that part of it is the show itself. What mostly annoys me as a meta writer is the fact Supernatural won’t own up to the subtext it is so clearly embedding in its narrative. Some people still feel optimistic, and that’s great, but let’s remember that what they’re doing right now - that’s a pattern. We got to the point where their whole season arc doesn’t make sense without Destiel (that’s basically what happened with Amara), and their mirrors are so precise they’re basically blinding you (still not over that Colette thing), and yet at the end of the season, nothing happens and nothing has changed. I mean, even with all the goodwill in the world, it’s getting harder and harder for me to believe TPTB will act any different from all the others who’ve been there before (and here I’m thinking mostly about Merlin and Sherlock) - they saw there was something happening there, for whatever reason, or maybe they pushed it from the start, I don’t know, but at some point they decided that yeah, why not keep it going - but the truth is, they never meant to go through with it, because that’s not how it works - because bi people are not a thing, because your gay characters must be openly gay from the start, because a story about a gay man must have something to do with AIDS or whatever, because you can’t trick people into watching a vampire story and then BAM, surprise, motherfucker, it was actually a gay romance all along, because the most they can do is two people holding hands in the very last scene and nobody would be happy with that, so why bother?

I’ve tried to force myself, for years, to believe there was no malice there, no sheer exploitation of people’s hunger for representaton, but I don’t know if I can anymore. If you look at the last two seasons, the pattern is exactly what it’s been for the previous seven: a lot of subtext (sometimes stretching credibility), a lot of double speak and scenes that could be interpreted either way, incredibly romantic moments followed or preceded by stupid and/or out of character #NoHomo stuff, and, mostly, no textual confirmation of any kind that something is actually going on. Which, frankly, enough.

And it’s not about Destiel, either. I would be okay with this obsession to keep the show only about Sam and Dean if they actually told me what’s going on with them, because they’re such complex and interesting characters and I would love to spend more time with them, but really, it’s hit and miss there. For instance, during this season I have learned nothing new about Sam, and I’m not any closer to understanding who he is and what he wants. As for Dean, 90% of his character development happened in the season finale - while the work of deconstructing performing!Dean has been majestic at times, it often felt like an afterthought. And how is it possible that we barely heard them talk to each other about this extraordinary thing that’s happened to them? Your mother coming back from the dead - you’d think that would be the focus of, I don’t know, everything? - but, again, I’m not much closer to understanding what’s going on there than I was before. As for Mary herself, she never made much sense to me as a character (apparently the fact Sam was a vessel for Lucifer and John wasn’t exactly nice to his kids was still news for her after one full year? like, uh?) and I still don’t understand, exactly, what it is they wanted to do with her. Other times, the message was clear but the way they got there didn’t work for me - for instance, Crowley’s death was hurried and weird, and that whole Claire episode proved the very thing Claire was trying to disprove (ie, that no, she wasn’t ready to work on her own) and yet the final scene ignored basically everything that had happened in the previous forty minutes and just went with it.

So, you see, there’s plenty of big and little things like that I’m annoyed about - and I get some of them have to do with the limitations of filiming a TV show (stuff about budget and whatever else I know nothing about), but when you see other episodes, well-made episodes, you realize they know how to do the thing and just don’t want to.

Sometimes I think Supernatural, like Destiel, was never supposed to be a thing. This is not Game of Thrones or Westworld or True Detective - it’s not something they created to win awards and have people hold on to their souls for dear life and question their entire existences. It’s just - entertainment. It’s what the CW does, right? I don’t want to be snobby, but they didn’t make The Vampire Diaries or Beauty and the Beast or Gossip Girl so they could change the world (I sort of enjoyed all of those, so again - I’m not saying they’re bad shows - at all). Those are simply things that sell - stories featuring incredibly good-looking people doing reckless things, living on the edge and helping you take your mind off your mean teacher or annoying dad. That’s it. It’s all it is. The fact Supernatural became more than that, and came to mean so much to so many people - that was probably a perfect storm of things - Kripke’s was a story about the American Dream that came at just the right moment, the cast (in my opinion, especially Jensen) is really talented, the writers mostly know what they’re doing and so on. This is why I’m trying to come to terms with the fact that those episodes I don’t like - those are the norm. The masterpieces - they’re accidental - and not in the sense people don’t work hard on them, but in the sense the show was never supposed to be like that.

So, I truly don’t know. I enjoy writing metas, and I’m slowly getting over the colossal disappointment that was the season finale, so, who knows - maybe by the time S13 airs, I’ll decide to go back to it. I don’t know. When I wrote that last meta, I was very emotional and absolutely furious, but feelings fade and change. What I will stop expecting, though, is for the narrative to follow any rules when they’re clearly trying to break them - and not in a good way. For instance, it truly made no narrative sense for Eileen to die, and it made no narrative sense for Toni to have a kid at all (or that she’d extract information from Sam by dream-raping him), or for Sam to break into that emotional King Arthur speech, or for Cas to die the way he did - and yet. So if I do start to write metas again, I’ll try to be more light-hearted about it and allow for ‘whateverness’, because apparently this is what we’re getting.

As for writing - I’ll always be grateful to this show and to the fandom for giving me my will to write back. I’m the kind of person who’s been working on a novel or a collection of short story or whatever else since primary school, but the last few years have been busy and adult and on and off traumatic, so I’d stopped completely, and this - this not writing, this living in a finite world, this drowning out of the voices in my head - this made me ache and shatter somewhere in my very soul. Writing stories again and getting feedback on them has been a joyful, liberating, crucial experience for me, and it has really helped me to make sense of myself as a person again. Plus, I really love these characters and feel there are so many things left unsaid - at this point, I couldn’t bear to leave them behind. My plans are to keep writing at least until the next DCBB, but if Supernatural will really finish in a season and a half, it’s possible I’ll keep posting the occasional coda during S13 and S14 as well. At the moment, I’m working on three big things - I think I’ll manage to finish them, and I truly hope you’ll like them, because, really - the friends I’ve made in the fandom, the messages I exchange with those who read my stories, all those taking the time to let me know they’ve kept reading all night long or something - it’s been so deep, so intimate and world-changing - a moving, incredible experience. I owe you guys so much, and that’s something I’ll not easily forget.

So, well, sorry for the novel - I guess I just wanted to say - I’m not leaving this story behind yet. I’ll just try to care a bit less and focus more on other things, but I’ll be around. Family don’t end with blood, and all that.

#ask #spn season 12 #negativity for ts #spn meta #destiel fanfiction #i hope this makes sense?#it's the kind of thing #that makes sense in my own mind #but it's difficult to put down in words

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georgialouisea · 7 years

Text

Open Your Eyes Sweetheart

Characters - Dean x Reader, Sam, Jody, Claire, Alex, Castiel, Crowley, Charlie, Rowena.

Word Count - 2235

Warnings - Pregnancy

Summary - Part 6 of Baby Winchester. Dean has another surprise for the reader.

Catch up HERE

The newest Winchester was due in 3 weeks, everything you could do a few days ago now seemed impossible. Groaning to sit up in bed you felt Dean’s hands on you helping you sit up.

“Morning.” He chimed as he got you upright.

“Morning, did I wake you?” You questioned as you looked into the green eyes you loved so much.

“No I was awake already.” He admitted as he ran his hand though his bed head. “I have something planned for today. Go shower or have a bath whatever you want to do and wear something nice.” Dean continued as he got out of bed and threw on a pair of jeans and a shirt. “Also don’t leave this room until I come and get you.” He ordered with a slight warning look on his face.

“Dean.” You spoke as he turned towards the door. “If I’m in here for a bit can you or Sammy please bring me tea and some food.” Begging as you stood up and stretched your arms above your head.

“Sure will princess.”

Following his instructions, you flicked on the bathroom light and made your way to the shower, shedding your clothes as you walked. Turning on the shower and stepping into the warm water, allowing your muscles to relax, everything ached a pain in your lower back had been there since you went to sleep last night, this morning it was still there, it was even worse. Cleaning your body and your hair for whatever Dean had planned for today. Turning off the shower and wrapping yourself in a fluffy bath towel you made your way back into the bedroom and sat on the bed looking at your wardrobe thinking of what to wear.

A knock at the door pulled you from your wardrobe thoughts, waiting for a few seconds to see if Sam or Dean would open it, they didn’t. Walking to the door and opening it Dean stood before you with a grin on his face as he gave you a wink with a tray in his hands. Upon it a cup of tea, a bowl of fruit and two slices of toast. Stepping aside to let him past you couldn’t help but smile at the dork of a man you loved.

“Dean you didn’t have to do this.” You protested as you sat back down on the bed.

“Shh.” He silenced you as he handed you the cup of hot tea. “For you sweetheart, I’ll do anything.” He smiled placing the tray down next to you.

“I love you, you’re a massive dork.” You jested as you picked up a grape throwing it at his face. As it fell short he caught it effortlessly in his palm.

“If you were aiming that was awful.” He smirked as he ate the grape.

“I don’t know what to wear. You pick for me.” You huffed as Dean moved the tray and sat down next to you.

“Fine.” Dean spoke instantly getting back up and making his way to the wardrobe flinging it open dramatically.

“Please don’t pick something I’m too big for or it’ll be a table I’ll throw next.” You warned Dean taking a sip of your tea.

“Sweetheart. I spend every day with you, do you think I don’t know which are your maternity clothes?” Dean asked as a hand fell to his hip dramatically. Rolling your eyes in response you couldn’t help but giggle at him.

“Here.” Dean broke the silence. “One you love this. Two you’ve never worn it since you bought it. Three you’ll look beautiful in it.” Dean listed as you watched him pull out the dress you’d purchased a few weeks ago.

It was simple yet elegant and on the plus side you’ll fit in it. Dean placed the burgundy dress down next to you as he looked at you for approval, he looked happy with himself and his choice.

“Well, okay then Mr Winchester, if hunting doesn’t pan out I think you should go into personal shopping.” You teased as Dean began to leave the room once more.

“Shut up.” Dean groaned as he began to close the door. “20 minutes.” Dean informed you as he popped his head back around the door.

Looking down at the dress you wondered what the hell Dean was planning. Figuring you’d know soon enough you shrugged off the towel, slipped on some underwear and then the dress. Looking at yourself in the mirror you instantly remembered why you’d bought it, the short sleeves, the flowing fabric, the just below the knee cut. It made you feel pretty, it both hugged your bump yet gave an illusion of being smaller than you were.

Sitting yourself down on the bed you finished your tea as you began to do your makeup, opting for a natural look due to Dean’s secrecy. As soon as you’d finished a knock at the door summoned it was time for another of Dean’s surprises.

Dean stood outside your door, he looped his arm for you to take as you attempted a last attempt to find out what the day would hold. “Where are we going?” You questioned Dean as he led you down the corridors of the bunker. A few moments later Dean told you to close your eyes. Doing as you were told he led your around one last corner which you’d worked out led you to the war room.

“Open your eyes princess.” Dean whispered in your ear.

The sight before you amazed you. Both the library and the war room were unrecognizable. The rooms were adorned with balloons, ribbons and fairy lights. The tables housed presents and food. In the library stood some of your closest friends, Jody, Alex, Claire, Donna, Charlie, Cas and even Rowena and Crowley. Whom despite run ins with the boys, both Crowley and Rowena liked you and you liked them, much to the brothers upset.

“Dean this is insane!” You almost squealed wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Welcome to your baby shower sweetheart.” He whispered once more.

Looking from Dean to the crowd of people in the library. “Jody!” You exclaimed almost running to her. “I haven’t seen you in months!” You hugged her tight, as tight as you could with a watermelon sized child between you.

“I can tell.” She jested as her hands fell from around you to your bump. “I can’t wait to meet this little one.” She beamed as she spoke before taking you into another hug.

“Girls!” You held your arms out to Alex and Claire. Alex hugged you instantly and to everyone’s surprise so did Claire.

“So we have food and drinks.” Sam appeared bottles of beer in hand. “Sit down everyone.” Sam ordered.

After over an hour of eating and drinking everyone was catching up. Looking down the table you couldn’t help but giggle. On the table sat 2 cops, an angel, the King of hell, his mother the most powerful witch to walk the earth and you were all a dysfunctional family.

“Enjoying yourself?” Dean mumbled in your ear as his arm made its way around your waist.

“Very much so.” You responded kissing his cheek. “Who invited Crowley?” You asked knowing there was a pretty funny argument about it just waiting to be told.

“Sam.” Dean sighed. “I wasn’t going to but considering he’s saved all of our lives, most of all yours and you’ve saved his what?” He questioned. “10 times.” Dean exaggerated.

“Shut up squirrel.” Crowley’s voice chimed in from over your shoulder. “Her I like.” He admitted.

Pulling your tongue out to Dean you giggled at being the King of Hell’s favourite.

“Can we do presents?” Donna asked clapping her hands like an excited child at Christmas.

“Sure.” Dean responded as he removed his arm from around you.

You hadn’t expected anything from anyone. Yet they’d all got something for the baby. Donna gave you a beautiful cream blanket with a matching teddy, on the blanket was ‘Baby Winchester’ which was beautifully hand stitched.

Charlie gave you some adorable baby booties, bodysuits and tops all with some of yours and Dean’s favourite shows on.

Jody had gone overboard buying the baby some beautiful sleepsuits in many neutral colours with animals on, booties, bibs and blankets. She had also put together a ‘mummy hamper’ as she called it. It was filled with shower and bath goodies, face masks, chocolates and a bottle of champagne.

Alex and Claire had also got the baby a gift which you were completely surprised by. It was a beautiful grey elephant teddy which was your favourite animal.

Crowley gave you and Dean a beautiful antique keepsake box, knowing he had probably had it for years and obtained it in some way which held a story.

Rowena gave you a baby hamper packed full of sleepsuits, bibs, cloths, blankets, nappies and a beautiful zebra teddy. She also gave you and Dean a candle. On it read:

Y/N and Dean’s scented candle. Helps take away baby blues and sleep deprivation. A real witchy blend. Rowena xx

Cas gave you a matching set of sleepsuits and tops which had animal prints on. He also gave you a bouquet of flowers which your face immediately lit up at, thinking of what he would have been asking Sam and Dean what to purchase.

Sam gave you and Dean a mug each one read ‘mummy bear’ the other ‘daddy bear’ both hand little bear prints underneath. He also gave you a bodysuit which read ‘baby bear’ on followed with matching paw prints.

“I’m also offering Auntie Jody’s babysitting services!” Jodie added as you passed Sam’s gift to Dean to put with the others.

“Thank you Jodie.” You laughed at her excitement. “Thank you all, you didn’t have to get this one anything.” You insisted resting your hand on your stomach.

As soon as the excitement of the day started to die down the pain in your back and stomach returned this time sharper than before. Shoving it out of your mind as nothing you continued to chat with Charlie. As you were deep in conversation with Charlie asking all about what she was doing, about her hunting, dating and everything you’d missed recently. The pain shot through you again as you inhaled and squeezed your eyes shut in response.

“Are you okay dearie?” Rowena’s voice questioned as she took in the expression on your face.

“Yeah I’m okay just a twinge.” You reassured as she raised an eyebrow at you in response. “I’ll walk around a bit see if it’ll pass.” You insisted trying to avoid worry. “Does anybody want anything?” You asked standing up from your chair. As your question was met by shaking heads you decided to make your way to the kitchen hoping the pain would pass and you wouldn’t go into labour at your baby shower.

Upon reaching the kitchen Jody and Castiel who were sat at the table looked up at you. As soon as you stepped foot inside the kitchen the pain retuned once more, this time more painful and longer.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” Jody asked as you felt her arms around you leading you towards the table.

“Yeah just a twinge.” You tried to lie as Jody’s eyes filled with worry.

“Twinge my ass. You’re having contractions aren’t you.” Jody barked as she continued to hold you.

“I think so.” You spoke through gritted teeth.

“Well these could be Braxton hicks. Your waters haven’t broken yet.” Jody tried to reassure you.

“I’ll get Dean.” Castiel added as he stood up to find Dean.

“Castiel sit down. Do not freak him out. I’m fine.” You lied as you ordered the Angel to sit back down at your kitchen table. “I’ll be okay. I’ll walk it off.” Speaking again as you tried to reassure Jody and Cas.

“I’m coming with you to keep an eye on you.” Jody insisted as she released her grip on your arms.

“Okay, Cas don’t worry Dean, Please.” You begged as you left the kitchen with Jody as you began to walk around the many halls of the bunker.

After a few minutes Jody interrupted the silence between the two of you. “How are you feeling?” She asked looking at you.

“Well I’ve had an aching pain since last night which has gotten worse and now the contractions, if they are contractions, they hurt. I’ve had worse though.” You played off the pain you were in.

“This could be just your body getting ready. Or it could be the real deal.” Jody responded as she rubbed your back to soothe you. “I had contractions for days before giving birth.” She started to speak before you heard a crack in her voice.

“I’m sorry Jodie, you don’t have to stay with me I’ll be okay.” You spoke as you returned the soothing actions hugging Jody as you apologised again for her loss.

“It’s okay. Come on let’s get this baby out.” Jody teased as she continued walking.

“Erm Jody.” You stammered as you stood rooted in place as you felt a warm trickle down your legs which soon sped up.

“Okay!” Jody almost shouted as she hurried back to you. “Do you feel okay?” She questioned as she held your arm once more.

“I don’t know.” You replied honestly slightly dazed by being in labour as realisation hit you, this was it. You’re having Dean’s baby.

Part 7 - It’s A...

Taglist -

@tas898 @do-you-have-a-trenchcoat @potterheadgirl5

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