The very ending scene of the Supernatural season 8 finale, for those who want to cry again.
This will forever give me goosebumps. Wait till I get my hands on the DVD.
Usually I draw cute,fluffy things….and then I remember I am a masochist for feels and I draw things like this…
* hide under poncho*
Can we also talk about the absolute beauty of the end scene with the falling angels? A backdrop with the church steeple in the foreground? That was artistic, metaphorical genius. They looked like comets falling from the sky, like the apocalypse, like the end of everything.
That shot with the angel’s wings burning off as he fell?
DEAN WAS LOOKING AT CAS BUT AS SOON AS HE STARTED TURNING HIS HEAD DEAN LOOKED AWAY IM FLINGING MYSELF INTO THE SUN
I already sent this to Dannie but I really love this idea so here goes:
SEASON 9: TFW tracks down Metatron and manages to get Cas’s Grace back. Instead of getting all angeled up again though, he gives it to Dean as some kind of penance for all the times he’s left, lied, etc..
Then either [Dannie’s idea] A) Dean wears it around his neck in place of the Samulet, keeping it safe right over his heart UGH BABIES
or [my idea] B) Something goes terribly wrong as usual, moment is ruined, and Dean dropped Cas’s Grace on the ground. The vile shatters, and engulf the nearest living form, which is DEAN. Angel!Dean and Human!Cas.
lol remember when dean said “this is like the first 5 mins of every porno I’ve ever seen”
and then its two gay guys
oh my gOD I FORGOT ABOUT THATT
this was already the most amazing scene and now it’s EVEN BETTER????
Dean did not dare to pull off any more curtains after he saw his brother lying helpless on the bed. If this place was feeding off fears, he was currently conscious enough to guess what other things were lying behind. Faces that he could not save, results of failed attempts and shattered hopes of keeping the ones he cherished close to him.
However, as he turned around to help Charlie get out of this goddamn place, he saw him.
A figure dressed in a long beige trenchcoat, his back turned against him, faceless and unmoving. Like a statue, a warrior.
“Cas?” he called, his voice low. He momentarily forgot where he was. That this was an illusion in order to stall him and place Charlie in an even greater danger. He took a step forward, called his friend again and waited.
He got no answer. The closer he got to the angel, the further he seemed to go. He was leaving, Dean noticed. Walking away, not sparing him a glance, an answer, fucking something that could give him hope.
You can’t leave me again, not like this, please, Dean thought, silently begging. He could not stop himself. He reached out, trying to grasp at something as fragile as his heart, but his hands came up empty.
Castiel had disappeared into the air, leaving Dean alone, with the image of him etched into the hunter’s mind, as he ached for something he did not dare to call out loud.
“Dean? Hello, Dean?”
He heard a voice behind him. Charlie, for God’s sake, he had to get them going. He was not going to lose another one. Not again.
Walking towards the red haired girl, he turned his back on the room, and tried desperately not to think about how much he wanted, for once, to reach out and catch something other than a faint sound of clapping wings and empty space.