#Castiel would heal them both
Text
Chapter 1 [Read Here]
CHAMPION
Part III of Heavyweight
a deancas boxing au by valleydean (emmbrancsxx0)
playlist | tip
SUMMARY: Brooklyn, 1933. Dean Winchester, the number one contender, trains to become the next Heavyweight Champion of the World, and this time he won't let anything get in his way. Title holder Castiel Novak has second thoughts about retiring, especially when someone from his past arrives in New York and asks for his help. Meanwhile, a new contender rises to fame and threatens to complicate both of Dean and Cas' ambitions - and their relationship.
PREVIEW:
An-gel Nov-ak! An-gel Nov-ak!
The crowd cheered for him from the bleachers of the world’s largest arena. Chicago Stadium had 26,000 seats, and every single one had been filled. There were men and women who paid more than they could afford for the rare chance of seeing the Heavyweight Champion of the World from the nosebleeds; and, sitting ringside, there were those who remained wealthy despite the turbulent times: celebrities and politicians, mobsters and socialites. All of their shouts sounded the same as they whooped and roared when Castiel knocked his opponent out in the seventh round.
Over an hour had passed since then. Now, the quiet hung like a curtain as Castiel stood in the center of the ring, and he assumed this would be the last time he’d ever perform in Chicago.
“What’s it like being back in your hometown?” the reporter from the Chicago Tribune had asked him in the post-fight press conference. Castiel had informed the man that Chicago wasn’t, in fact, his hometown. He’d never lived in the city. He’d only ever visited, and rarely. Besides, he hadn’t thought of Illinois as home for a very long time.
“After you retire at the end of the year, do you think Pretty Boy Winchester can win the title?” another reporter had asked. The question had made the raw, tender skin over Castiel’s knuckles stretch and burn when he tightened his fists under the table.
Yes, of course, I believe Dean will take my title next year. He’s more than deserving.
That had been his answer, the words coming out mindlessly from all the times he’d repeated himself before. They were truthful. He meant them. Castiel could tamp down the scalding pride in his chest at the thought of anyone but him wearing the belt. Because it wouldn’t be anyone. It would be the same man he’d look in the eyes every morning when he woke up.
Dean wanted the title, and he should have it. It was his turn and Castiel would support him every step of the way.
He’s more than deserving.
He just wished Dean had spoken to him before announcing to the world, right after Castiel’s first victory of the year when his wounds were still bleeding, that he would participate in a title fight after Castiel was gone. Maybe, if he’d given Castiel some kind of indication beforehand, it wouldn’t have felt like he was walking over Castiel’s grave.
Castiel scanned the arena outside of the ring. The house lights were on, making the place seem foreign and liminal. The spilled popcorn kernels, cigarette ash, and crumpled trash that lined the sticky floors served as the only signs that life had once been vibrant there. Castiel could still feel the hot overhead lights on his skin, just as surely as he felt the blood seeping onto his bandages and the bruises that would line his face tomorrow. He tipped his head back and closed his eyes.
Soon, bruises and blood would be a thing of the past. All the pain that came with victory wouldn’t plague him anymore. He could unclench his fists, relax his muscles, let his calloused knuckles soften and his bones heal from all the times they’d been broken.
He wondered if, like an ache on a rainy day, those fractured bones would remember the glory. If they’d whisper, or if they’d echo with yells.
An-gel Nov-ak!
The loud whining of a metal door struck the silence like a jab.
“Cas!”
The door clattered closed, and Castiel’s eyes fluttered open. His neck was starting to pinch. He leveled his chin and watched Dean stride down the aisle between the ringside seats, polished shoes crunching over debris as he went. He was still wearing his suit, his wool coat draped over his arm.
“I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” Dean complained. “The hell are you doing out here?”
“Thinking,” Castiel said simply, even though it felt like a lie. His mind had just been circling around the same thing it had been for nearly three months now: his retirement, and everything that went along with it. He’d asked Dean time and time again if he was doing the right thing. And, time and time again, Dean had assured him that he was.
He believed Dean, because Dean wanted what was best for him. They wanted what was best for each other. And yet, the question remained like a contusion on Castiel’s ribs.
Castiel resolved not to bother Dean with it anymore. The answer wouldn’t change, and neither would the circumstances. It was like Dean kept saying: it was okay to feel mixed emotions, and to be nostalgic. What Castiel felt was nothing more than that. Castiel would learn how to open his hands and put down the fight.
He still had eight months, two weeks, and a day to learn how.
Dean walked up the steps and ducked into the ring. “Okay. Thinking about what?” he asked, carefully hanging his coat on the ropes so it wouldn’t crease.
Castiel pressed his lips together and looked to the side, hoping to find an excuse. He remembered what the reporter from the Tribune had asked him. “My father used to take me to Chicago sometimes—before we had a car. He would make me load the pigs into the Studebaker wagon to trade them at the markets. The trip took almost nine hours. It smelled. But it was better than killing them.”
He brought his eyes back to Dean, who was furrowing his brow as if Castiel was insane.
“What?”
“You’re thinking about pigs?” Dean asked.
Castiel sighed wearily.
Dean shrugged. “Well, we could go see ‘em. If you want.”
Now, Castiel’s brow lined. “The pigs? I’m fairly certain they were slaughtered.”
“No, not the—” Dean groaned. “Your folks.”
Castiel would rather not.
“Might be nice,” Dean pressed on. “I wouldn’t mind meeting them.”
Castiel shook his head. “They don’t want to see me.”
“You mean, you don’t wanna see them?” Dean corrected, as if reading Castiel’s mind.
“I want to go to sleep,” Castiel answered, changing the subject. His face was beginning to pound, and he didn’t know if that was because of his wounds or the current topic. He walked from the center of the ring toward Dean, who was pouting.
“I thought we were gonna go out,” Dean reminded him. “Only got one more night here. I got some club recommendations before the fight.” He grinned handsomely, which he knew usually got him his way, and sauntered closer to Castiel. He wrapped his arms loosely around Castiel’s waist, making their chests brush. “Get some drinks in you and your face’ll hurt less.”
Castiel was exhausted, and it wasn’t as though Dean had never seen Chicago before, but he had promised Dean a night on the town.
“And you defended your title tonight,” Dean said. “That calls for a toast!”
“Is that what you want to do?” Castiel asked, his eyes drinking in Dean’s ruggedly enticing face. He cupped his sore hands around Dean’s elbows.
Dean smiled again. “Hell, yes!”
As much as Castiel wished he could rest, lying in bed right now wouldn’t be the same without Dean. He still hadn’t found a way to say no to Dean, anyway. “Fine. Then, let’s go.”
With a smug smile, Dean leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to the corner of Castiel’s mouth. It stung a little, but Castiel gladly took the pain that came along with the warm feeling the kiss left.
Dean pulled away and headed for his coat, saying over his shoulder, “C’mon, go put your tie and jacket back on. I’ll go get us a cab.” He left the ring and hustled down the stairs, headed for an exit door.
Castiel lingered for another second, looking over his shoulder at the center of the ring. Beyond, the stadium was still vacant. When it had been filled and the crowd had been cheering his name, he’d felt as if he’d been flying. He wondered if this was what it would feel like after he retired: like he was being pulled to the ground.
Shaking the thought away, he exited the ring and went to the dressing room to collect his things.
#Let's FUCKIN GOOOO#destiel#deancas#destieledit#deancasedit#destiel fic#deancas fic#dean winchester#deanedit#castiel#casedit#castieledit#my writing#my post#heavyweight#boxing au
108 notes
·
View notes
Text
“I’m the one who will have to watch you murder the world”
It’s so quiet, it’s always quiet now. The town surrounding Castiel was filled with vacant buildings, abandoned homes, and so many items scattered showing the hasty way that the people had to flee (if they were lucky enough to get away). Cas missed when there was noise everywhere, when there were cars, and children playing, when he could walk in a crowd and not be seen as the angel of death. The one who tells them to flee, the one who stands in wait.
It had become like a sick game over the years. Dean moved, ravaging everything in sight, and Cas did all he could to stay one step ahead. To herd people away, to warn them that he was coming. And then he does what he’s doing now, he waits for Dean. Tries to plan what he could possibly say or do. There have been times when it felt like he was close, when he got through to him even for a moment, but those moments always passed. Most recently when they had fought, there was a moment when he held Dean firm, angled towards the body of a woman that he had effortlessly cut away from this world, and made him look. Forced his eyes to her blonde hair, and her pale skin, and spoke in his ear of those he loved who could have easily been this woman: Jo, Mary, Jessica. Cas spoke their names like a prayer, hoping they would embed themselves deep in Dean’s skin, deeper than the mark could reach. Hoping the blood seeping into this dead girl's hair wasn't for nothing.
But it was.
The number of dead only continued to rise, and the shining light of Dean Winchester's soul only continued to darken. And all Cas could do was try, do as he had always done and follow Dean, to the very end.
“Just you and me again Cas?” Dean didn't try to hide, or sneak as he approached, they both knew Cas couldn't kill him (he had tried before) “Where's the rest of the party?”
“Dean.” Despite himself, he felt warm. Every time he got to set eyes on his friend without fresh blood on his hands, felt like a blessing. With everyone they had loved long gone, all they had was each other, for better or for worse.
“Still doing this cat and mouse bit? I move and you scurry?” his face was blank, no smile, no frown; like he was a god - or devil - forced to speak to an ant.
Some part of Cas could never stop seeing his Dean, troubled since he was a child but still always the brightest light in any room, at least to Cas. His soul was so full of love, the prime motivator for all his actions, leading him to pain over and over again. Cas could still see that soul, twisted and deformed by the mark, like thick scars, covering almost every surface. But still, there was always the memory of fresh skin, of the very thing that willed the wounds to heal. That was what was left of Dean’s once bright soul, scar tissue, desperately trying to recreate what was there before.
“What if I said no?” it was said before he had a chance to pull it back. A thought that had lingered in his mind for so long, one so tempting. No matter what he did, The Mark continued to push, murdering everything it could, consuming infinitely. Nothing could stop it, Castiel could not stop it. Effort, hope, love, none of these things could defeat The Mark. None of these things could bring Dean back from the hell he had created. And Cas knew even if the mark disappeared, the selfless man he knew, the righteous man, would never be able to deal with what he had done, how many he had taken from this world, the cries and begs that he met with the horrible wet thud of the first blade as it sunk into flesh, not sharp enough to fully slice, but not blunt enough to just bruise.
Dean didn't respond to the vague statement, just stared at Cas, just as angry and hollow as that day all those years ago, when the angel had warned him of this very moment. The horror that Dean had forced him to watch. Looking into those eyes, Cas knew it was time.
“We’ve been through much together, you and I” It was hard not to tear up as he tried to think of all the things he wanted to say “It may be selfish of me but I do not regret saving you”
Dean still stared, his eyes still cold. Cas thought maybe that was for the best.
“Knowing you has changed me, I am the person I am, because of you”
Cas allowed his blade to fall from his sleeve into his hand, Dean’s eyes fall on it, before looking back to his face.
“And even though you are no longer the Dean Winchester I once knew, I still consider you my family. The only family I have left, as I know I am yours”
Cas stepped forward, slowly, blade in hand until the two were less than a meter apart.
“You saved the world many times over Dean, maybe it is fitting that you are the one to end it. Maybe since you saved me, it too is fitting…”
Cas flips the blade, holding the handle out to Dean
“That you end me too.”
They look at each other for an age, Cas’ eyes tearful, Deans hollow. A million lifetimes worth of connection between them, whether it is wanted or not.
It's slow as Dean’s hands reach up to take the blade, not a mad rush of bloodlust, but the natural conclusion to their story. An ending that was always there on the horizon, inevitable and all-encompassing. Castiel always knew he would die for Dean Winchester.
When the blade sinks into his heart, he knows it is final, God has abandoned them and there is no one to bring him back. Dean's hands come up to lower his dying body to the ground, but his eyes are still dark. All scar tissue, nothing left.
AO3
#castiel#cas and dean#dean winchester#dean x castiel#deancas#deancas fic#mark of cain#mark of cain dean#spnfandom#spn fanfic#destiel fic#destiel
58 notes
·
View notes
Photo
DESTIEL TROPE COLLECTION 2023 | DAY 10 | Canon Divergent
Sleepy Angel Kisses | Destielshipper4Cas (AO3)
Rating: Teen & Up
Word Count: 1,255
Main Tags/Warnings: Canon Universe, First Kiss, Sharing a Bed, Affectionate Dean, Falling angel Castiel, Crack Treated Seriously, Prankster Dean, Fluff and Crack
Summary: Cas keeps falling asleep when low on grace. Dean takes advantage of that. Just some harmless pranks… right?
An Account of Consequences | @moustiel
Rating: General
Word Count: 1,530
Main Tags/Warnings: Angst, post season 12 finale, spn rewrite, canon divergence, whump, heavy corpse description
Summary: Castiel is the once and former God. There are consequences for trying to be The Most High.
Isaiah 14:16-14:20
No Peace Held In Death | @aaronthe8thdemon
Rating: Mature
Word Count: 2,265
Main Tags/Warnings: Episode: s07e04 Defending Your Life, Angst, Sad Dean Winchester, Sad Castiel (Supernatural), canon compliant? more like canon complaint
Summary: Sammy’s out doing his Sam-thing, trying to take down Osiris with Bobby on the other end of the phone. Dean’s hanging out in their motel room, waiting.
He fucking hopes it’s Jo.
Which means it’s gonna be Cas.
a corruption cleared | @demonmary
Rating: Mature
Word Count: 2,774
Main Tags/Warnings: Demon Cure, Demon Dean Winchester, Demon True Forms, Angelic Grace, Blood Drinking, Canon-Typical Violence, Angst
Summary: When Castiel had healed him in the past, it was from the outside in. HIs hands would come to rest on Dean’s injured flesh, his grace would pulse through them like electricity, and the connection would stop when Cas pulled away. But this - this was more pure. This wasn’t Castiel’s touch, this was Castiel. This was Castiel, healing him from the inside out. _____ demon cure but make it horny grace drinking.
thank god for bruce campbell's abs | @watchinghimrakeleaves
Rating: Teen & Up
Word Count: 3,408
Main Tags/Warnings: canon divergent, season 9, human castiel in the bunker,
Summary: Dean decides to expose Cas to horror movies. In the process, he learns some startling things about his best friend.
I need to say something | @destiel-wings
Rating: Teen & Up
Word Count: 4,861
Main Tags/Warnings: Episode: s15e09 The Trap, Castiel/Dean Winchester in Purgatory, Love confessions, Angst, Romance, POV Castiel, Dean Winchester uses actual words, Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Summary: What if Dean had confessed in Purgatory, after his prayer? When Dean said "Cas, I need to say something," Castiel stopped him. But what if he hadn't?
Murder the World | @thisisapaige
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 10,162
Main Tags/Warnings: Angst, Canon Divergent after s10e22 The Prisoner, Demon Dean Winchester, the Castiel and Colette parallel, Switch Castiel/Switch Dean Winchester, Hopeful Ending, Porn With Plot
Summary: Castiel said he would be the one to watch Dean murder the world.
Now he has a chance to prove it.
This Isn't Where We Intended To Be | @porcupine-girl
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 14,094
Main Tags/Warnings: Castiel in the Bunker, Human Castiel, Fallen Castiel, Post-Episode: s10e14 The Executioner's Song, Pining Castiel, First Kiss, First Time, Bunker Fic, Light Masochism, Meddling Sam, Emotionally Repressed Dean, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Light Bondage
Summary: This time, he wakes up to the aftermath: Metatron and Crowley both dead. Dean lying nearby, unconscious and a bit bloody but free of the Mark. Sam mother hen-ing back and forth between them, trying to make sure they're both alive, assessing them for injuries, shifting them into the recovery position. He is hungry, cold, and weak. But he is not alone, and that makes all the difference in the world. Fallen, Castiel struggles to figure out where he fits in the human world—and in Dean's life.
The Parts You Keep Hidden | @skybird87
Rating: Mature
Word Count: 16,035
Main Tags/Warnings: Episode: s14e10 Nihilism, Homophobic Language, Internalized Homophobia, Bad Parent John Winchester, Dean Winchester is Loved, Angst with a Happy Ending
Summary: In an attempt to free Dean from Michael, Cas and Sam journey deep into Dean's mind. Unfortunately, they find themselves stuck in an endless void of darkness, with only Dean's worst memories to guide their way.
Everything I Possess | @krexhatespushups-blog
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 19,023
Main Tags/Warnings: Archive Warning: Major Character Death Tags: Canon-Divergent AU, Pre-season one Canon divergent, Mentions of drug use and addiction, consequences of drug use, child neglect/child abuse, emotional manipulation, child abandonment, Mentions of PTSD, John Winchesters A+ Parenting, drug use by a minor, Dean/Cas established relationship, Blow jobs, car sex, public sex, references to physical abuse, praise kink, Temporary Death, VERY TEMPORARY MCD, grieving, dealing with grief, hunters funeral, non-con branding, non-con body modification, misuse of angelic grace as lube
Summary: Dean had been fighting all kinds of supernatural beings from the time he could hold a gun, but he never expected angels to be real, So when he met Rhonda Hurley at nineteen in a tiny town in Colorado, the last thing he expected was that her sister had been miraculously saved by an angel.
Nineteen years later, Dean and Cas are searching for God and their paths cross with a familiar angel who knows about Rhonda and reveals a secret - a pink satin-y panty shaped secret - that Dean has been hiding.
Mr&Mr Smith (WIP) | @malicmalic
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 55,512
Main Tags/Warnings: Cannon divergent, established relationship, angst, miscommunication, hurt, apocalypse is upon us, anal sex, oral sex, smut, loads of plot, happy ending.
Summary: Castiel and Dean Smith are a regular married couple, living in a little suburban town and working ordinary, uninteresting jobs. However, each of them is concealing a secret: Castiel was once a mighty seraph, an angel of the Lord who decided to fall for human kind and walk among them as their equal. Dean on the other hand is a retired hunter of the supernatural, trying to let go of his past and find a better life after having ended the demon who killed his mother. When a nice, blond, cookie-selling girl scout knocks on their door and unleashes the entire hell on them, the life shattering secrets can no longer stay hidden. Exposed to each other’s worlds, Cas and Dean have to fight to save it from the appending apocalypse, but the insecurities and miscommunication might lead them to lose one another in the process.
I Will Be Your Message From God | @aaronthe8thdemon
Rating: Mature
Word Count: 32,415
Main Tags/Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode: s08e17 Goodbye Stranger - The Crypt Scene, Winged Castiel (Supernatural), John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Angst and Feels, Non-Linear Narrative, Castiel-centric (Supernatural), Episode: s01e12 Faith, Episode: s02e13 Houses of the Holy, Episode: s04e16 On the Head of a Pin, Episode: s06e20 The Man Who Would Be King, Time Travel
Summary: When Castiel touches the Angel Tablet and it frees him from Naomi's clutches at last, the only thing in his field of vision - both literally and psychologically - is Dean Winchester. He realizes none of this should've been necessary at all. And now, with Naomi chasing him in search of the Tablet, Castiel can only draw one conclusion. He must undo all of this, everything he's done wrong, on Dean's behalf.
But his pitfalls are still there. He'll relentlessly pursue his goal at whatever cost, and left to face his own arrogance comes to understand that in reality he has no way to proceed. In addition to Naomi something else seems to be hunting him, something much more powerful and dangerous. And so Castiel can only land briefly before fleeing again, over and over, making an even bigger mess while trying to construct a solution to his past mistakes.
The Resting Place | @5x04dean
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 49,481
Main Tags/Warnings: Temporary Minor Character Death, Body Horror, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Horror, Pet Sematary AU
Summary: When Sam, Dean, and Castiel head out to investigate a case, they assume nothing is out of the ordinary. But as Dean and Castiel continue to dance around one another's affections, they find that the small town holds deadly secrets—secrets that are far more sinister than any of them would have ever believed.
Written for the 2021 DeanCas BigBang.
A Midwinter's Dream | @li-izumi
Rating: Mature
Word Count: 53,245
Main Tags/Warnings: Canon Divergence Season/Series 09, Season/Series 10, Canon-Typical Violence, Post-Mark of Cain (Supernatural), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Dean Winchester works through his trauma, Minor Rowena MacLeod/Sam Winchester, Kevin Tran Lives (Supernatural), Charlie Bradbury Lives, Dreams and Nightmares, Christmas, Angst with a Happy Ending, Advent Calendar Challenge
Summary: Christmas is fast approaching, but Dean doesn’t feel like celebrating--he’s too busy hunting for that sort of thing. Though he promises to get Cas back in time for the epic Christmas party Sam’s been planning, Dean has no intention of staying himself. That may be another promise Dean can’t keep when the hunt goes wrong, trapping Dean and Cas far from civilization. Worse, Dean is plagued by unrelenting nightmares of his time with the Mark of Cain and is gripped by a lingering anger that he can’t seem to escape. Back at the Bunker, Sam and the others are working a little Christmas magic they hope will show Dean the light in the dark—and prove to him that the holiday spirit isn’t something he needs to hunt.
When Tomorrow Comes | @trenchcoatparadigm
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 78,994
Main Tags/Warnings: Fix-It, Season 15 rewrite, Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Angst, Family Loss, First Time, Love Confessions, Dean Winchester Saves Castiel from the Empty, Castiel's Loss of Angelic Grace, First Kiss, Happy Ending
Summary: When hunting for the Leviathan blossom, Castiel gets taken. Tired, desperate and wanting to tell him all the things left unsaid before it’s too late, Dean prays to him. But he realises... standing there, in the grey hellish landscape, the portal home flickering just beside them with seconds left on the timer, they already were too late.
Running himself ragged fuelled solely by caffeine, whisky, and that trademark Winchester determination, he will find a way to stop Chuck and to save Cas. However, this isn't the blaze of glory Dean had always envisioned going out in. But, deep down, he would go out swinging to save a loved one. Those bright shining penetrating tear-soaked eyes are the last thing he sees before his vision is marred, the desperate plea of his name dampened by the black ooze filling his eardrums as the essence of the Empty wraps around him and pulls him pulled from existence into the dark.
All because of that simple prayer, the ending Chuck had always planned was rewritten.
With a fallen angel purged of happiness, a brother in mourning and a Nephilim-shaped timebomb the only ones left to Carry On on this desolate planet… What happens when tomorrow comes?
Do You Know What That's Worth? | @norahastuff
Rating: Mature
Word Count: 92,212
Main Tags/Warnings: Cas POV, Canon divergent from 9x06, Cas is pretty damn competent, Slow Burn, brief non-explicit Cas/OFC, brief non-explicit Cas/OMC
Summary: After Dean leaves him at the Gas N' Sip in Rexford, Castiel realises that he needs to get back in the game. However, that's easier said than done, and instead he finds himself working in a Target-style superstore in Boulder as he tries to figure out his new human life. He makes friends, starts hunting, even has a couple of hook-ups, but when Dean unexpectedly returns, Castiel has to re-evaluate where Dean fits in to this new life he has built for himself, and what it is they need from each other.
And while Castiel may have had his grace stripped from him, he still possesses certain angelic sensibilities that may be the key to fixing some of the damage Metatron has wrought. With some creativity, teamwork, and a dash of hope, maybe he can discover just how much he's really capable of.
(An alternate season 9 from Cas' POV.)
Eighteen (I've Got to Get Away) | @motherofdragonflies
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 122,569
Main Tags/Warnings: Major Character Death, Series typical violence, pre-canon, abusive John Winchester, young Dean Winchester, Season One Re-Write, Season Two Re-Write
Summary: "Dad always said that family was important. They didn’t have a lot of family, the Winchester men, so they had to stick together. That was part of the rules Dean lived his life by: shoot first, ask questions later. Watch out for Sammy. Winchesters had to stick together. But what about when the rules contradicted each other? Which rule was more important: family sticking together or watching out for Sam?"
When Dean turns eighteen, he’s forced to make a decision that will change the course of Sam and Dean’s life.
an empty house is not a home | @hawkland
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 143,247
Main Tags/Warnings: alternative season 13, alternative season 14, time traveling Castiel, switching Dean/Cas, Godstiel
Summary: Jack’s grace is gone, and so is Dean—lost to the Michael of the Apocalypse World, and Cas despairs there may be no way to get him back. Not with his limited powers and only Sam and the other hunters to help avert this next apocalypse.
Cas can think of only one being who might be powerful enough to stop Michael. But to summon him means a trip back in time to recruit none other than himself, from when he believed he could become the new God. And if called into the future, how will “Godstiel” react to what Cas has become and the existence of Jack…and will he agree to eventually going back?
This story reimagines the events from Jack’s birth up through Dean’s possession by Michael with one major change: What if Dean had expressed his true feelings as soon as Cas returned from the Empty? How might their bond, strengthened by love and a more open understanding of each other, have changed the course of all that followed?
217 notes
·
View notes
Text
“All For You.”
Pairing: Michael x reader
Summary: Reader gets injured, Michael heals you and kills for you (we love to see it guys, we love to see it)
You were on a hunt with Dean. Castiel had “angel business” and poor Sammy had to stay back in the bunker to ‘babysit’ two archangels. You felt bad but the older brother kept insisting that you were ‘not mature enough to take care of them.’ He was right. You are and always will be horrible at taking care of someone, let alone archangels.
– A few hours ago –
“Why not (Y/N)? I don’t want to watch over them anymore.” Sam was done with trying to deal with two of the most stubborn beings that he has ever met. You gave an awkward smile and a thumbs-up. “Sam, if you think (Y/N) can be left alone with Mr. High And Mighty and Mr. Pay Attention To Me Or Else, there’s something wrong with you.” His brother explained.
– After the hunt –
You ended up getting horribly hurt. It was supposed to be a werewolf. Not a whole pack of them. Dean had gotten injured too but it wasn’t as bad as yours. Normally, he would berate you for ‘bleeding all over Baby’ but you were losing too much blood. If you didn’t make it back in time, or if Castiel didn’t get his ass down and heal you in time– you would be dead.
Dean drove as fast as he could. Calling Cas didn’t work, so you were left to writhe and groan in the backseat– clutching the wound. “Cas.. where are you?” You heard Dean mutter. If Dean called Cas and he didn’t answer, you knew you was fucked.
They reached back in time, but no one could possibly stop the blood. You needed to be healed and fast. “Sam! Sammy!” Dean yelled, carrying you. You were starting to lose consciousness– you fought it as best as you could. When Sam opened the door, he was shocked. “Shit. Shit.” He panicked, he moved out of the way.
You closed your eyes. “(Y/N). (Y/N)! Stay with me!” A voice pulled you out of it. Your eyes shot open. Sam was basically ripping his hair out and Dean was able to lay you down on a bed. Michael and Lucifer were alarmed by the screaming and came to check it out.
Both archangels froze. They stared at you – well, at your scratched opened stomach more like it, but you get it. “Move.” The older archangel commanded. Dean and Sam stared at him dumbfounded. “I said.. move.” Michael ‘gently’ shoved them out of the way. He put two fingers on your forehead. You gasped for air. The wound was gone.
“What happened?” Michael asked, brushing a strand of hair behind your ears. Dean and Lucifer looked like they wanted to say something but decided not to ruin the moment. “Pack of werewolves..” You replied. “Are they still alive?” You nodded. “Do you have names?” Dean helped you answer. The archangel was gone in a second.
“So.. are we gonna talk about that or..?” Dean started. “Talk about what?” You were confused. “The whole Michael thing…? Healing you, and all that.” You weren’t sure how to answer. To be honest, you didn’t know either. You gave Dean a shrug.
Two seconds (or more) later, Michael was back– covered in blood. Dean and Sam took a double take. “You killed those werewolves didn’t you?” Sam asked. Michael wiped his face with his sleeve. “Yes. I did.” He stated. Dean opened and closed his mouth. “Why would you help us?” The older hunter questioned. Michael’s eyes shifted to you.
“I’m not helping you.” He squinted at Dean. “For (Y/N) then?” The archangel shrugged but the answer was quite obvious– yes, for you. “I’m going to get cleaned up.” With that, he walked out the door, leaving four confused people to stare at each other in silence. “Never once in my life have I seen my older brother kill for someone.”
#supernatural x reader#supernatural fic#dean winchester#castiel#spn fic#spn x reader#spn x you#michael spn#michael spn x reader#michael supernatural#michael supernatural x reader
225 notes
·
View notes
Text
here have an angst drabble inspired by an evil post by @sheepstiel that posited ‘you know what would be evil. dean rescues cas from the empty but cas is set back to factory settings.’ #remembers nothing... etc’
@sendhelpnewobsessionincoming asked to be tagged when i eventually got around to writing it
this will probably have a sequel at some point bc... pain and suffering lol
anyway
Umbra
“You need to calm down, Dean.”
“Don’t fucking start with me right now,” Dean mutters flatly, pacing crop circles into the floor; he’d usually muster more vitriol, but he’s exhausted and still half-terrified.
Jack insisted on everyone staying out of the dungeon as he rescued and healed Cas, and so, of course, Dean is directly outside the dungeon door, anxiously waiting to be let in.
For a long time there was just stressful silence, but then, after roughly three hours, he, Sam, and Eileen had heard the bizarre, pulsating sound inter-dimensional rifts make when they materialize, they’d felt the barometric pressure throughout the bunker shift, and Dean very nearly barged in, breaking his contract with Jack.
Sam’s hand on his shoulder was the only thing that reminded him of the terms of this agreement.
A peculiar torture, knowing Cas is right behind that door, and Dean still doesn’t understand why he’s not allowed in yet.
He wanted to be there to receive Cas from the Empty, he wanted to be the first to touch Cas, to speak to him, but beggars can’t be choosers, and he can’t question Jack — not with the stakes so high, and not after it took so long to get Jack to bend.
Dean paces in angry circles for another hour, and then Jack summons Eileen — and only Eileen.
Sam and Dean are flummoxed, but can do nothing about it; the door opens, Dean sees absolutely nothing, Eileen walks through, the door is shut again and Dean goes back to pacing.
When Eileen reemerges, she looks nervously between Sam and Dean, and tells them, while half-signing, “you need to be prepared. This… isn’t going to be easy.”
“What does that mean?” Dean asks.
“The Empty took from him,” Eileen replies, face regretful, “it’s… hard to explain.”
“Am I allowed in there?”
“... be careful, Dean,” she says — and Dean wants to tell her that he’s insulted she thinks he’d be anything other than that with Cas, but it quickly occurs to him that she means with himself.
Knowing he’s allowed in now, he doesn’t bother hemming and hawing in the hall any longer — he lets himself in, Sam right on his heels, and they both stop before they’ve made it ten feet inside.
Cas’ body — vessel — is young again.
He looks malnourished, windswept, weak, but not grotesquely harmed, as Eileen’s ‘prepare yourself,’ tone in the hall might have implied.
Swallowing the guilt that comes with seeing the evidence of Cas’ long imprisonment and torture, Dean ventures forward again, opening his mouth to greet him, but Jack intercepts him, looking at Cas and saying, “Castiel, do you know who that is?”
“This is the Righteous Man and Michael Sword,” Cas answers in monotone, “I recognize him as all Angels can. The color and sound frequencies of his soul indicate that he has divine purpose, and the engravings on the spires of his soul specify what purpose that is.”
Dean’s brought up short again.
No one says anything; Jack looks at Dean, repentant, and trying to communicate nonverbally that this is not a joke.
Dean’s not sure he believes that yet; it’s an awful joke, a bleak, horrendously un-funny joke, but no alternatives are coming to mind.
“Do you understand where I’ve brought you from?”
“You’ve told me I’ve come from the Empty, but I have no memory of this.”
“Oh… oh, no,” Sam utters just audibly.
Dean’s stomach churns, sharp and hard.
“Regret is a corrosive,” Jack explains to Cas, but also to the room at large, “the Empty uses regret, shame, and guilt, and sort of… injects all of one’s memories with it, amplifies it in the ones that already contain it, which reduces the memories to only regrets. Regret strips the memories of all other qualities, until all that’s left is the interject; the regret. Memory becomes feeling only, a reductive feeling, which makes everything smaller and smaller until…”
Jack glances up at Dean and finishes, “... well, until there is nothing left.”
There’s loud static in Dean’s head.
Jack adds, “this is how the Empty feeds. This is what it takes. It is the full power of regret.”
“I’m missing memories?” Cas asks Jack.
“Many years of them, yes,” Jack replies.
“Heal him,” Dean rasps, barely a whisper, white hot terror sparking at the soles of his feet, flickering up into all of his body as it tenses from the hairs on the back of his neck to the nerve endings under his nails.
“I cannot heal what isn’t there,” Jack responds sorrowfully, “there is nothing broken. There is — there’s nothing.”
“Why does he — look like that?” Sam asks, throat sounding thick.
“Castiel used to age his vessel’s appearance purposefully, to feel closer to the two of you,” Jack tells them, “I think, at first, it was so that a unchanging human person who does not visibly age wouldn’t alarm the two of you by how unnatural it seems — the same reason he gave his vessel vital signs and engaged in sensory processing in the third dimension. He didn’t want to upset either of you by being too… alien. Then he came to appreciate looking as though he belonged among you.”
Cas raises his hand to his jugular, and must be setting a pulse into motion, then he studies Sam and Dean for a few moments and his vessel ages rapidly before their eyes, until he looks about their age, until he’s just as he looked nearly a year ago — the way he looked in this very dungeon when the culmination of he and Dean’s shared memories were so fortified with happiness, fealty, and unwavering, unconditional love that it was enough to save the world.
He glances between Sam and Dean blankly, and asks, “is this more acceptable?”
“He —” said he loved me - but he said he loved me. He loved me. It was the most important thing he ever said, the way he said it, what he told me... he said he loved me, he can’t have lost that, I can’t have lost that — Dean can’t say it.
No one else knows.
He and Cas were the keepers of that beautiful, terrible moment in time, but Dean’s just flashing morse code into emptiness now.
Emptiness.
“... Dean?” Sam starts worriedly from somewhere over Dean’s shoulder.
Emptiness in his eyes, empty hands, an empty mouth with no words left for Dean; an umbra.
Shaky legs move backward, Dean’s unsteady where he stands, and while it’s hard to look away from Cas, it’s also too painful to keep staring. All he can do is retreat.
“Dean?” Sam asks again.
Dean can’t get out of the dungeon fast enough; he shoves past Eileen and Sam, even as they shout after him; he can hear Jack’s voice in his head, apologizing so gently, full of a child’s fear that they’ve done wrong by their parent.
He can’t breathe in the bunker, he thinks he might vomit, so he rushes outside for air, and the summer storm raging there mutes his voice as he pants, out of breath from running, and then roars into the night; no particular words, just grief made audible, just another monster languishing, just the sound of suffering.
He’s bombarded — what if I’d convinced Jack sooner? What if I’d been able to figure it out myself? What if I’d grabbed Cas when the Empty first came for him and just gone with him? What if I had gotten to him sooner? Would he have any memories left? Would he have lost even more of himself had he stayed any longer? Is this why he’s so skinny? Did the Empty run out of incorporeal food and so cannibalize him? What more could I have done? I should have gotten to him sooner, I should have saved him faster, then there’d be something left, there’d be anything left —
How many times? Dean wonders as his voice crackles like dying embers, splintering and winding down in a clap of thunder, tears bubbling to his eyes, and in how many ways can he be taken from me? How many more times will I have him ripped from me? How many more times can I survive it?
When Dean lands in a sprawl in the mud, head in his hands, fingers clawing at his scalp, he feels Sam approach, he lets Sam wrap him in a hug, and he thinks to himself — I can’t. I can’t survive it. Not even once more. Not even now, I think.
199 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dean leans heavily against the wall, watching Castiel, for a moment, it last only a breath or maybe a hundred years, but soon he is stepping outside too, making his way to the metal railing of the room's balcony and leaning on it, putting all his weight on his forearms.
He never really cared about getting a room with a balcony, not caring about anything else but about having a bed to sleep on, comfortable or not, because beggars can't be choosers.
"It's nice that they created an extra space for simply stepping outside to breathe in some fresh air."
Dean cares about getting a room with a balcony now.
Castiel never asks for anything, he wasn't even asking for a damn thing when he said that, solely stating an opinion, but Dean listened anyway.
He himself thinks it's nice too, he misses having windows and both natural light and air sometimes.
He watches Castiel's profile as the angel stares up at where thousands of stars would be looking back at him if it wasn't for the dark clouds looming above them. He straightens up and wraps an arm around Cas' shoulders, it takes him a moment to get the cue, even with Dean tugging on gently to get him to move closer, but, after a few beats, Castiel turns to stare at Dean, with a sheepish smile on his lips, and steps closer to him, letting his arm close around Dean's waist.
Dean feels a drop landing on the hand he has closed around the railing. It's the first and last one he feels, of course, not because the sky decides it actually doesn't want it to rain, he can still hear the drops falling and meeting every surface around them, the sound getting stronger, but because he has his own umbrella, one he can't see or touch, keeping him warm and dry. He looks at Cas and mutters a quick "thanks, sunshine." Still bringing Dean light even in such a cloudy evening.
Castiel doesn't say anything but he does reach out with his free hand, closing it over the side of his face, he gently tilts Dean's head down so he can kiss his forehead, he lets his nose slide over Dean's before lightly bumping his forehead against the spot on Dean's where his lips were just touching his skin, and it warms Dean to the core, feels like home, feels like salvation.
Like even if God and every angel in Heaven might hate Dean, there is still something holy protecting him in the world, willing to offer the last drops of its weakened grace to save him from every danger, a certain death or a couple droplets of rain. Despite the blood dripping from his hands and his knives, his mistakes and flaws.
One of the hands that rebuilt him and brought him back to life raises, combing his hair, that is still slightly damp from the shower he just took, back and out of his face, swiping away a stray tear as it goes up.
He hugs Cas closer, he would give anything to protect him too, despite the blood dripping from his hands and his blade, his mistakes and flaws.
The both of them are a bit broken inside, healing together, leaning on each other for a support they have never really known before.
Castiel rests his head on his shoulder, keeping them both away from the cold kiss of the falling rain, and it warms Dean to the core, it feels like home, feels like salvation.
69 notes
·
View notes
Text
Code Breaker pt.1
Also on AO3
(A Teen Wolf Rewrite)
Fandoms: Teen Wolf, Supernatural
Warnings: usual TW and SPN stuff
Pairings: Stiles Stilinski x reader
Word count: 1,7k
<back // next>
tags: @venomsvl @celestair @d64d-n0t-sl66p1ng
if you wanna be tagged let me know!
Stiles was securing pictures of the victims with missing hearts that he secretly photocopied from his father's folders to his board with magnets when Y/N ran into his room.
"How did you get here so quickly? Peter lives on the other side of town-" Stiles eyed her curiously, but then he noticed Y/N breathing heavily and trying to catch her breath. The corners of his mouth twitched as he tried not to laugh.
"I ran," Y/N said in between breaths. Stiles shook his head and then turned back to his board to mark the places where the victims were found on a map. Y/N took a few steps closer to the board to get a better look.
"He's making a circle around Beacon Hills, but slowly so it's not noticeable. These cases are all almost six months apart from each other. I don't know how my dad didn't realize they are somehow connected." Stiles said, showing her the dates on the files.
"So he is smart. Which means he has to be sane. Which kinda makes me worried he is not rogue, just power hungry." Y/N sighed and pulled out her phone from her pocket, holding it in her hand and staring at it.
"Are you going to call your brothers to help us?" Stiles asked. Y/N bit her lip, thinking, and then nodded.
"I might have to. I don't know how they will react if they find out about me being friends with three werewolves. Especially Dean." She sighed and sat down on Stiles' bed.
"Castiel healed Peter, right? So if he comes with your brothers, he could tell them all three are friendly? Even though one looks like he could murder you with his eyebrows." Stiles smirked as he sat down next to her. Y/N rolled her eyes.
"He looks like he could murder you even without those eyebrows. Have you seen him shifted? His eyebrows go missing. It's actually hilarious, but don't mention it around him. He doesn't like it." Stiles had to put a hand over his mouth to keep himself from laughing, while Y/N texted her brothers instead of calling them, even sending them a meet-up place because she just didn't trust Kate.
⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆
The black Chevy Impala took longer than expected to arrive in Beacon Hills. Two weeks, to be exact. Two weeks full of the friend group getting chased and attacked by the alpha.
Y/N was impatiently waiting at the motel Dean told her about when they drove her here a few weeks ago. When she finally spotted the car, she stood up from the stairs she was sitting on and waved at her brothers. Both of them were smiling at her, as they exited the vehicle. She knew the smiles would quickly disappear when she would tell them why exactly she called them here.
"Y/N/N! You look like you are finally getting enough sleep!" Was the first thing that left Dean's mouth. Y/N rolled her eyes.
"You look like you still drink way too much in your free time," she said back with a grin, spreading her arms to hug him. Dean squeezed her so hard she couldn't breathe, then took a step back and let Sam hug her. At the same time, Roscoe came into view. Stiles was sitting behind the wheel, Scott in the passenger seat, and the two grumpy-looking Hales were squeezed in the back seat. Y/N had to stop herself from laughing.
"So, will you finally tell us what is so urgent that we had to drive all the way here?" Dean asked as he pulled his duffle back from the trunk. Sam, who was watching the new arrivals, turned to look at his sister.
"Yeah. These guys will help me with that." She waved her hand toward the blue Jeep. Dean finally turned to look at them. Scott was giving everyone his kicked-puppy look, Stiles was awkwardly rubbing his neck, Derek just frowned at everyone and Peter smirked when the brothers looked at him.
"Who are they exactly?" Sam asked. Y/N sighed. She then pulled the keys to the brother's booked room from her pocket, turned around, and walked towards the door while speaking.
"I will explain everything when we are inside, we don't need people knowing you are in town, even tho Baby will give you away anyway." All of them followed her inside the room. Sam and Dean each picked a bed and placed their duffle on it to claim it, then they both sat on their own bed. Scott and Peter sat down at the two chairs next to the small table that was in the room, Derek decided to stay near the door, Y/N guessed it was for a quick escape in case Dean decided to shoot them full of silver, and Stiles made his way towards Y/N. He had his arms full of the researched materials she told him to bring.
Y/N cleared her throat and then looked at everyone in the room.
"So, Dean, Sam, these are Scott, Stiles, Derek, and Peter." She motioned to each of them with her hand.
"Everyone, this is Sammy," Y/N pointed to her long-haired brother, who was eyeing the Hales suspiciously. She realized he must have heard about them in the past, along with the pictures from when the fire happened.
"And that one there-" she looked at Dean, "- that will put the gun away!" She frowned at Dean when she realized he was holding his gun, ready to shoot.
"Is Dean." When he didn't put the gun down she sighed and walked up to him, taking it from his hands. She then proceeded to pull another two from his duffle, just to be safe. Stiles eyed the guns and swallowed nervously, realizing he was the only one without superhuman strength or hunter training in the room.
"Y/N, why are we in a room with two werewolves?" Sam asked, not looking away from Peter. Dean was staring right at Derek, who was staring back at him with an even more intense stare.
"I always wanted a dog-" she started, making Stiles snort. Derek shot her an offended look. Y/N just grinned at him and then turned to her brothers.
"I know you guys don't like working with supernatural beings, but you made the exception with Cas, so now trust me with these three."
"Three?" Dean asked, immediately turning to stare at Stiles.
"Oh, not me. I'm just 147 pounds of pale skin and fragile bones," he motioned towards Scott. Dean gave his sister a look.
"Really? The one with the puppy eyes is the were?" He sounded so done with everything that Y/N wanted to laugh.
"Okay, I called you here because we have a werewolf problem. And also rogue hunters problem. You pick which one is worse." Y/N said. She pulled a few folders from Stiles' arms and spread them on the bed behind Sam. Dean stood up from his bed and walked over to take a look.
"There have been many attacks in the past month, starting with two days before we arrived here and I stayed. It started with Laura Hale, the one that became alpha after the fire. Derek felt the bond snap and arrived from New York the day after it happened. Overnight some hikers found half of Laura's body in the woods and reported it to the police, that's how Stiles got to know about it and he decided it would be a smart idea to go look for the still missing half, along with his asthmatic best friend. As you already know Scott got turned. The alpha bit him and no one since then, so he doesn't want to build a pack." Y/N started explaining, while the brothers looked through the opened folders. The Hales patiently waited for Y/N to explain everything. Stiles took a few steps forward so he was next to Y/N again. She nodded at him.
"He is trying to make it look like Peter did it, but we have evidence that it wasn't him. There were attacks around Beacon Hills where the dead people were missing a heart. Peter was still comatose at the time of those attacks, and even if he wasn't, he is a born wolf." Stiles continued where Y/N left off.
"Yeah, born weres don't feed on hearts, they don't need them to survive." Dean shot both of the Hales a look, before looking back at his sister.
"What else happened?" He asked.
"Well, there was an attack at the video store in town, two of our classmates were present, but they don't know what it was. He has the powers of both, bitten omega and born alpha. He can fully shift into a wolf. But because he isn't a born wolf, the form is deformed. He looks like something from a really bad horror movie." Y/N cringed at the memory of the alpha running after them in the school a few days ago.
"So you saw it?" Sam asked. The three teenagers exchanged looks.
"We, uhm, we kinda.. were chased by it?" Scott said, but it sounded more like a question. Sam and Dean both looked at their sister with a look that could kill her, both taking a breath to say something, but she was quicker.
"Nu-uh, you don't get to say stuff. You guys get chased every single time you hunt something. This was one time only okay." She put her hands on her hips, frowning at her brothers.
"Is there anything else that happened? Or is that all?" Sam asked after a minute.
"Oh, he actually bit the girl that was at the video store, but she didn't turn. She's currently being treated at the hospital because she is not waking up either." Scott informed the brothers.
"I tested her. She's safe. Also from what Stiles, Peter, and I found yesterday, we have a name for the alpha guy. It's Ludensky." Y/N swallowed.
"Wait. Ludensky? As in the guy I shot last year, that thanked me for freeing him of the werewolf curse?" Dean asked, which made everyone look at him. Well, except for Y/N and Sam.
"Yup. That's the one."
"Son of a bitch," Dean let out.
"We need a plan to get rid of him. Anyone has any ideas?" Sam asked. The room was silent until Peter cleared his throat.
"I might have, but I'm not sure if any of you will like it."
#stiles stilinski x reader#stiles stilinski#y/n winchester#dean winchester#sam winchester#teen wolf x reader#castiel#scott mccall#teen wolf rewrite#derek hale#peter hale#superantural#supernatural x reader#kind of au?#definitely different from both shows canon now#idk how that happened lol
79 notes
·
View notes
Text
Limes and Spices
Liminal Spaces -> Limes and Spices
Suptober 2023 - Day 1 - Liminal
Tags: Fluff, Rambly Character Study, Post Canon, Angel Castiel.
Words: 1,629
---Read on AO3---
Being unable to sleep had never been a problem before meeting the Winchesters. In fact, it had never even been something of note. Angels didn’t sleep. Castiel didn’t sleep. That’s all there had been to it.
When he’d first started spending any kind of significant time with the brothers Castiel had been unused to the concept of sleep beyond a vague notion of ‘humans require rest’ and had often forgotten that contacting either of them in the middle of the night would be met with irritation and resistance.
Especially from Dean, who had very early on been given the moniker of ‘angry sleeper’.
So Castiel had soon learned to occupy his time while they slept, and even if he felt that his information was important, it had to wait until the morning.
Sam slept more than Dean did. It hadn’t occurred to Castiel just how terrible Dean’s sleeping habits were until he’d been with them both for some time and become more familiar with human requirements of rest and nutrition. They’d been sat in an empty diner in the middle of the night when he first told Dean to eat something healthier than all the grease that he consumed and get a solid eight hours of sleep minimum. (Dean had taken another bite of his burger at this suggestion and grinned at him with his mouth and cheeks full in response.)
It had surprised Castiel that he’d even said anything. It shouldn’t have mattered to him what nutrients Dean lacked from his diet, or how he only had half of the amount of sleep that he should to properly rejuvenate his body each night.
But he did. He cared. He had wanted Dean to take better care of himself.
He had, in those early days – as Claire had explained to him with a roll of her eyes one day – ‘caught feelings’.
(When Castiel had eventually told her the story of how his attitude had changed over time towards Dean, Claire had acted as if the explanation had been obvious, but he’d never even experienced feelings at all up until that point, so he often thought that he deserved a bit of slack for not realising sooner.)
He would never admit to Dean the number of times that he had flown into whatever motel room the brothers were staying in for the night and had gently pressed the pad of his finger, feather-light, to Dean’s forehead as he slept – using his Grace to take the edge off his fatigue and help the healing process of any injuries he’d sustained on his hunts. Never enough that Dean noticed. But just enough for him to function better than he should on only four hours sleep and being thrown across the room by angry spirits, or whatever else he’d been up to. It had always physically pained Castiel to hold back from completely healing his injuries, but if Dean had gone to bed with a split lip and woken up without a mark… even the Castiel from back then knew it would have been a little suspicious.
In retrospect, he knew that he shouldn’t have even done that small gesture at all without permission. The Dean from back then would have called him a creeper or something similar.
Castiel smiled at the thought as he pushed himself from the wall he leaned against and began to walk. His footsteps should have thudded loudly through the bunker; the sound echoing and bouncing through the empty halls, but he only had to extend a tiny thread of Grace into his feet to muffle them.
He had walked these halls so many times that he could traverse through them with his eyes closed and know every single step that he took and where it would lead. (Even without using any of his powers or Angel eyes.)
Back when he’d been without his wings, he’d simply walked through the bunker to occupy the hours that the Winchesters slept. Endlessly pacing down stretching, identical, sterile hallways. He would stop in the huge catering kitchen, ready for the masses that it would never cater for again. He would run his fingers over the spines of the books that he’d already read in the library, wondering if there had been a time when the tables would have been full of people sat elbow to elbow researching together. He would watch the lights blinking on control panels that it used to be somebody’s job to maintain and record.
Everything in the bunker served as a reminder of absence.
Castiel had never liked the thought of Dean and Sam living there. He knew that they saw it as home, and he remained grateful for its existence to be that for them, but…
These liminal spaces reminded him of the endless motel rooms the brothers used to stay in.
‘Between’ places.
Somewhere on the way to somewhere else.
Maybe the reason the bunker reminded Castiel so strongly of the motels was because of its transitional feeling nature – it had served its purpose to the Men Of Letters when they’d occupied it, and it had served its purpose for Dean and Sam to be a safe base for them when they’d needed it. He only hoped that meant they would one day be able to stretch their wings (metaphorical ones of course) and escape into somewhere where they could live in the light like they both deserved.
Castiel sighed as he turned into yet another artificially lit hallway that stretched in front of him like all the others. He had only taken a single step forward when a warm sensation trickled up his spine and nestled into the base of his skull. Castiel closed his eyes and felt his whole body tingle, as the sensation increased and the warmth spread to his chest.
Cas… Dean prayed – his voice like a whisper straight into Castiel’s ears.
Castiel shuddered.
Cas… Get your feathery ass back in here.
Castiel smiled, and with barely the tiniest flap of his wings he stood in Dean’s bedroom.
Dean lay under the covers in his crumpled sleeping shirt, hair askew, and glared at him. His voice sounded sleepy and rough when he said, “I can hear you pacing from here.”
Castiel raised his eyebrows. “That’s impressive considering I muffled my footsteps with my Grace.”
Dean ignored him and barrelled on, “Pacing and thinking. That sound that gears make when they’re grinding? That was you. That’s what I could hear. Gears and stomping. How’s a guy supposed to get his four hours around here?”
“I couldn’t sleep,” Castiel said, as seriously as he could, trying not to let his lips twitch into the smile that he could feel creeping up on him, “I have a lot to think about.”
“Yeah yeah, you’re a bazillion years old and so’s that joke, now get your ancient ass in here so I can sleep without all that noise.”
Castiel finally smiled and huffed, which brightened Dean’s expression into an immediate grin.
With another tiny flap of his wings Castiel lay beside Dean in the bed, stripped down to nothing but his boxer shorts.
Dean wrapped an arm over Castiel’s middle and pushed his nose beneath his ear, in the crease just below his jawline. “Mm, I think that’s probably my second favourite thing you can do with your Angel mojo.”
“What’s the first thing?” Castiel rumbled, sighing deeply, and relaxing into Dean’s warm embrace.
“I’ll tell you in the morning, but then you’ll have to do it again so I can check it’s still number one on the list.”
“I agree. It’s a good thing to keep the list accurate.”
Dean tightened his hold. “Y’know I’d’ve been happy just to get you back, right? Powers or no powers. Wings or no wings.” His voice was thick with sleep, but still firm and sure.
“I know, Dean. I know. I just… I get worried that I’m disturbing your sleep by lying here awake. I worry that you won’t be able to fully relax knowing I’m just lying here next to you. That you find it disturbing…” Castiel struggled not to voice that he often wondered if things would have been easier for them both if he’d came back from the Empty human.
“Are you kidding?” Dean asked, his voice even lower. “I literally just woke up because you weren’t here, and I had to have you back. And it’s dumb and selfish ‘cause you can’t even sleep and I’m keeping you here like a damn prisoner but… I need you.”
I love you, came Dean’s quiet prayer, softly, gently into the back of Castiel’s mind.
Castiel inhaled and tried not to ruin the moment when he felt the usual flicker of fear and elation that accompanied every single time Dean would pray those words to him. “I love you too,” he said thickly.
“And there’s something else I wanted to talk to you about in the morning...” Dean whispered sleepily. He yawned widely and snuggled down further. (Dean would deny everything if Castiel described his actions out loud as snuggling.) “I think we should… move out… get a place of our own… something with a… big garage for Baby.”
“A big garage for Baby,” Castiel confirmed, “got it.” His heart swelled in his chest to know that Dean had been thinking the same thing he had. He would follow him anywhere. “And no more liminal spaces for Dean,” he added.
“Mm-hm, yep… no more… lime and spices.”
Castiel smoothed a hand over Dean’s arm. Getting to see him this vulnerable and relaxed would never stop being a miracle.
This between place had served them well, but now they could move into the sun together.
Castiel smiled as he closed his eyes, even though he wouldn’t sleep.
#I don't really know how this happened it was supposed to be a short drabble but please take it and I hope you like it#hands it to you gently#suptober23#destiel#destiel fanfiction#deancas#pie's projects#spn fanfiction#suptober 2023#suptober day 1
65 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hihi!! Can i req for kinktober 8. fuck or die with sam Winchester or castiel (idm) the readers dying and only there onsolved feelings for sam or cas is the only way to save (if you get me 🙇♀️🩷)
Thank you for the ask, Anon! ❤️❤️❤️
I was already planning to do a similar version but I like yours better. Here ya go!
Warning: heterosexual sex (p in v), unprotected sex, wrap it up, kiddos! nipple play, tw: love curse, tw: physical pain, tw: person dying, schmoopy, Angst and Fluff and Smut
Day 8: Sex Pollen/Fuck or Die, (Ask request)
“Sam, it hurts.”
Y/n looked pale as he held her in his arms with his cell phone pressed between his ear and shoulder.
“Hello, Dearie.”
“Rowena, Y/n got hit with a curse…” Sam proceeded to explain the events that led up to now, including Castiel being unable to heal her or affect the spell cast on her.
“Oh, Darling,” Rowena trilled. “You’re gonna need to make love to the lass.”
“What?!” Sam squeaked. He’d had a crush on Y/n since meeting her, nearly a year ago, finding her cute, and kind, and they seemed to have similar interests in books and research. From the first time he saw her smile, he was caught in her web, and she had no idea.
“You heard me, Samuel.” She paused for a few moments, realizing the situation as Sam remained silent. “You have feelings for her?”
Sam eyed Y/n, who was wrapped in a blanket in his arms, dozing.
“Yes,” he confirmed, quietly on the phone. “I can’t let her die, Rowena.”
“Oh, you poor boy. I told you what you have to do, but there is a catch, Samuel, darling.”
Sam silently waited.
“She has to have feelings for you in return. The spell is a sort of curse and love spell. If the other doesn’t reciprocate, it kills the one who is cursed. You have 24 hours at most from when the spell is cast upon them, and you both have to admit your feelings for each other.”
Sam felt the blood in his face drain away at the realization they were extremely short on time. It had been six hours already as he had scoured the library’s card catalog before calling the witch.
“HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO DO THAT? SHE KEEPS FALLING ASLEEP AND CAN BARELY EAT!” Sam quietly yelled through gritted teeth, waking Y/n who looked up at him; however, he didn’t notice.
“Samuel.” Rowena quietly informed, “The spell will allow you to make love once things…get going or said. Trust me. This is the only way to break the curse. You can do this. While I haven’t met her, I’m certain she has feelings for you too.” Rowena almost sounded as if she was lamenting.
“Thanks, Rowena,” Sam replied quietly as he contemplated how to save Y/n.
Dean saw Sam hang up and looked at him expectantly.
“I’ll explain later. I got this,” Sam informed Dean.
Sam looked down to the now awake Y/n, who watched him.
“Are you ok?” she asked softly. Her weakened state making even talking troublesome.
Sam’s face softened—amazed that she was worried about him despite her dying—and nodded. He kissed her hair. “Yes. We need to get you to your room and settled in bed.”
Without a word or warning, Sam changed his arm placement and picked Y/n up bridal style causing her to yelp. He grinned at her. “I’ve got you, Y/n. Nothing is gonna hurt you if I can help it.”
Dean and Castiel secretly smiled at each other and held hands under the library table.
While Sam walked to Y/n’s room in the bunker, he thought back about his interactions with Y/n, wondering if she feels the same way about him. They’d been spending more time together over the last few months. They'd been texting each other daily and Y/n would always text good morning and good night to him. He began to feel confident that she felt the same way, but getting her to admit those feelings might be harder.
By the time Sam put Y/n down in her bed, she had fallen asleep again. Her body was shutting down. He sat down next to her and gently caressed her face, calling her name.
Y/n blinked a few times before awakening to see Sam smiling at her, and she smiled back and placed her hand on his hand on her face. “Hi,” she greeted, her eyes soft and her cheeks barely pink.
Is she blushing? Sam wondered.
“Hi,” Sam returned.
“What did Rowena say?”
Sam dropped his hand away from her face as he spoke. “She said it was a love curse.”
Y/n looked at her lap. “Oh. What does that mean?”
Sam sighed and clarified, “Rowena said that you would need to admit your feelings to who you’re in love with and…and…make love.” He could feel his face heating up as he looked towards her nightstand, then back at her.
Y/n eyebrows rose into her hairline, her slightly pinkened cheeks darkening. She remained silent a moment, then winced and whined at the pain in her abdomen. “I don’t understand how, Sam.”
“She said the curse will allow you, once things start going. If there is someone we need to call or get, I’m sure Cas will go get them.”
She smiled widely and looked at him, placing her hand on his cheek.
“Sam,” she gently chided. “There isn’t anyone else.”
His heart raced on his chest as his cooling face began to heat up. “What do you mean?”
Y/n knew if she was going to live, it was now or never as her heart rate increased. Her chest started aching but she ignored it. “You.” she explained, her voice trembling. “Ever since I met you, it’s been you.”
Sam took this as permission. He leaned down and brushed his lips, chastely, against hers. His stomach fluttered with butterflies and bees. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down on top of her. Her chest warmed and tension faded away. It was so much easier to breathe. He bracketed her in with his arms, knees between her legs, tangling his fingers in her soft y/c hair. The kiss reassured her as her body felt to be tentatively improving. She tightened her arms further as her strength returned, crushing her lips against his, and moaned. He slid his tongue against hers and a dance ensued as they devoured each other.
Y/n captured Sam’s moans as she pushed her chest against him. Pulling away from him, she looked up and smiled. “I think we should, um…” She looked away, unable to complete the sentence.
“Right,” Sam agreed, realizing what she meant. He sat on his haunches, removed his plaid, and pulled off his shirt. Y/n turned to watch him at his words with an eyebrow raised and chewing on her lower lip. “Y/n.” He chuckled at her watching him.
“Right,” she agreed. She grabbed the front hem and pulled off her shirt revealing a spaghetti strap undershirt.
“You don’t wear a bra?” Sam asked.
“Do I look like I need to wear a bra?” She asked incredulously, and grabbed her breasts through the undershirt. She giggled, “It’s not like I got a lot here.”
“I don’t know. I think I need a better look to judge for sure.” he teased, acting playfully thoughtful.
She pulled off her undershirt revealing her chest. Her breasts, while on the small side, seemed to be the perfect size for Sam, just enough to fill his hand. He squeezed slightly and grinned. “I think you’re perfect.”
Y/n could feel her face heat up at the compliment.
With his other hand, Sam tilted Y/n face up to him and tenderly kissed her. Y/n pushed him away, frustrated. “Sam, we need to speed this up. I’m already starting to feel…weird.”
“Weird, how?”
“I don’t know. Not like myself. Just like before. Off.” She couldn’t figure out how to explain it but remembers a similar feeling hours earlier before the pain started. Determined to get the show on the road, Y/n repositioned herself to be kneeling and pulled Sam down to her. She skipped his lips and went for his neck, sucking marks in his skin across his jugular then his Adam’s apple. Sam gasped in surprise, then moaned, causing her to chuckle.
You’re mine, Sam.
Sam was stunned at her directness and desire for him. His hands sat at her hips. She moved slowly from one side of his neck to the other.
And I’m yours.
Sliding her hands down his arms, squeezing and feeling their strength and definition, she grabbed his wrists, slid one to her ass, and the other to her breast, squeezing his hands. He finished rebooting and pinched her nipple, gently rolling it between his thumb and forefinger while he massaged her asscheek. Y/n moaned into his neck, then nipped and licked his shoulder.
She slid her hands down his chest, stopping to trace his defined abdominal muscles. The feel of his muscles went straight to her core and she could feel that she suddenly soaked her panties. She had a muscle kink and never told anyone since it was very superficial. She went to his belt, unbuckling it blindly while she nibbled his collarbone. She popped open the button, then slowly pulled his zipper down.
Surprised, he glanced down, seeing her finger the edge of his boxer-briefs. “Y/n, you’re moving fast.”
Y/n pulled back. “Sam, take off my pants,” she commanded, then hesitantly asked, “Can I take off yours?”
She grinned and worked his underwear and pants down together. His large cock sprung out and she stopped to stare. “Holy shit.”
Now it was Sam’s turn to blush. He had never gotten that reaction before. He worked to remove her pants and she helped. Once they were both naked, they took each other in for a few moments.
“Is there anything you don’t like?” inquired Y/n.
This was not going how he imagined it but answered anyway. “Uh…not that I can think of right now. If you do something I don’t like, I’ll let you know.”
“Same,” she confirmed.
“You?” he asked.
“Um, no penetrating my ass this time around. Need to clean up.”
“Ok.”
Things stalled a bit for Sam but not for Y/n. She wrapped her hand around his girth, stroking his length. Sam practically growled at her action. She bit her lower lip and giggled. She leaned forward, licking the underside from base to tip then engulfed the tip in her mouth. He growl-groaned at the sensation. Since she was unable to communicate, she grabbed his hand and placed it on the back of her head. He instantly grabbed the back of her hair, pulling her off.
“If you keep that up, I’m not gonna last.”
She failed to hide her grin, never having had someone react so strongly to her. “Then fuck me, Sam.”
Sam leaned forward and picked her up as he sat back on his heels. Y/n’s breath trembled and a shiver went down her spine at the change. He cocked a brow at her but she just held on to his shoulders as he did the same to her thighs and ass
“Y/n, I need to tell you something.”
“Sam,” she begged and squirmed in his hands and arms. “Please.” She wrapped her legs around him and he lined his cock up to her entrance, lowering her.
They both groaned the moment he began to penetrate her hot, wet heat. The burn from Sam’s large size felt amazing, especially once he bottomed out. She took a few slow, deep breaths, having never felt so full.
“Are you ok?” Sam asked, concerned.
Her pupils were dilated with barely any y/e/c shown. “So full,” she panted and squirmed on his cock. “Please, Sam. Please fuck me.”
Sam slowly thrust into her soaked channel at first. Throwing her head back, she closed her eyes and moaned. Once he started to speed up, she panted and whined. “More,” she begged.
He gently laid her down on the bed, bringing her further up his thighs, and thrust into her with force. The strength of his thrusts sent lightning down his spine to his groin. He knew he was close. She screamed with pleasure, encouraging Sam to continue. She brought her hands to her nipples, rolling them around and pinching them. He pressed open-mouth kisses across her chest and left marks from his teeth on the inside of both her breasts with licks from his tongue.
She carded fingers through Sam’s hair, damp from sweat, and scratched his scalp, causing him to groan. Her hand goes rubbing her clit. He gasped at her walls clenching around him and this pushed her over the brink, crashing and burning as she screamed through her release. The sight of her — beautiful and sexy— was such that he, too, grunted and exploded, filling her full.
Sam bracketed her in again with his hands on either side of her shoulders. He huffed and panted, trying to catch his breath. She smiled blissfully at him. She raised a finger and lightly touched his cheek. “How are you?”
He huffed a laugh. “Great.”
Her hand dropped to her chest and she panted, “Me too.”
He leaned down, brushing his lips against hers, and rubbed his nose against hers. She lightly giggled.
“I love you, Sam.” She told him like it was an everyday thing they told each other.
He smiled widely, “I love you, Y/n.”
::::
The next afternoon, Y/n was in the library reading in Sam’s lap, snuggled against him.
“How are the lovebirds?” Dean teased.
“We’re good,” replied Y/n. She grabbed her cell, looked at it, then put it down. “Five more minutes,” she informed Sam.
He kissed the top of her head. “Ok.”
“Five more minutes until what?” asked Castiel.
“We’re making sure the curse is broken and there is a time limit on it. While we don’t know the exact time, we have an idea of when it was, give or take, so just waiting it out to make sure.”
Dean and Cas chuckled. “Mind if we wait with you?”
“Of course, the more the merrier,” replied Y/n. Dean and Castiel sat down next to each other. Castiel on Dean’s laptop and Dean on his phone as they held hands under the table
#anon ask#kinktober 2023 request#unrequited feelings actually requited#day 8 sex pollen/fuck or die#Sam Winchester#castiel#reader insert#female reader#basing off the emoji used#supernatural#spn#fluffy with angst#schmoopy spn smut#happy ending#Dean winchester#elle em bee
48 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Rain Is Our Playground
Dean was singing to himself, using his beer as a microphone when Castiel teleported into the room. Glancing around, they noticed Sam, or rather the lack of Sam.
"Where is Sam?" They asked, startling Dean, who spilt his beer on himself.
He groaned and muttered something under his breath, "Fuck, would you stop doing that?"
"Doing what?" Castiel asked, walking forward, still searching for Sam.
"Poofing in scaring the crap out of me," Dean berated, "You know it's pretty fucked up to do that to a guy with a heart condition."
"Your heart is fully healed, you have no conditions." Castiel told him, they made sure of it when they resurrected him.
"Still." Dean said, grabbing something to clean his shirt, Castiel waved a hand, restoring the shirts cleanliness.
"Sam?" They asked again, Dean sat back into his chair, nodding him head towards the window.
"He's out in the rain jumping in puddles and shit," Dean picked up his beer again, when he looked back up, Castiel was already gone.
---
"Sam," Castiel greeted, the young man was holding an umbrella that got shifted towards the angels presence.
Sam smiled at the angel, "Hey, Cas." Sam's gaze went back to the rainfall hitting the messy lot. The sound of rain hitting the metal became background noise to Castiel, while Sam focused on the soothing sound.
"What are you doing?" Castiel asked, stepping closer to Sam who was trying to angle the umbrella towards them. Not that it was necessary as Castiel's wing was blocking the rain in another plane.
Sam shrugged, "Staying away from Dean, he's well, he's being an ass right now."
"I noticed," Castiel agreed, Sam laughed, and nodded.
"Yeah, he's actually calmed, but just that and wanted some air," Sam told them, his posture looked relaxed and happy. But also soaked.
Castiel looked at the muddy clothing and at the puddles surrounding them, "Dean said you were jumping in puddles."
"He pushed me into one," Sam said, glancing at the house, shaking his head, "but no, I haven't been jumping in them."
"Oh," Castiel said, it did make more sense with the coverage of mud over Sam jumping into puddles.
Sam could practically hear the gears turning in Castiel's head, "Do you want me to?"
The angel looked around, it was an intriguing idea, "I've never seen it."
"Have you ever jumped in a puddle before?" Sam asked, and the angel shook their head. Taking the angels hand, Sam dropped the umbrella, rain still going around the two, and led the angel to a puddle.
"This one isn't deep," Sam said, letting go of the angels hand, "here, watch." Immediately jumping into it, causing a splash that would've hit Castiel if they allowed it.
Castiel watched curiously for a moment, jumping into the puddle next to Sam, allowing the water to sink into their clothes. Letting the mud coat their shoes and pants.
Sam's smile lit up the stormy clouds as they raced to another puddle, jumping in it, kicking the water up into the air, laughing as Sam lost his footing and fell in. Just to grab Castiel and drag them down with him.
The two were a muddy mess, Castiel had to let the rain fall upon them in a desperate attempt to clean their faces.
They bounced from puddle to puddle, spinning around, splashing as much as they could, trying to get the other messier than the other. Sam had never seen Castiel smile so brightly as they kicked the water up towards him.
"I swear if you two start dancing in the rain I'm going to puke," Dean said, gathering both of their attention. Leaning against a wall on the porch, protected from the rain as he sipped his beer.
Sam raised an eyebrow to his brother, "Is that a promise? Why are you watching us anyway?"
"Because," Dean said with a shrug.
Sam rolled his eyes and waved him off, "Well go do something."
"Nah," Dean said, "bothering you is fun."
Sam looked at the angel, "Cas?"
"Yes?" The angel asked, inspecting the hunters expression.
Dean recognized the smile, "Have you ever danced in the rain?"
Castiel looked at Dean and back at Sam, "Can't say I have."
"Would you like to?" Sam proposed, offering a hand out to the angel.
Castiel took it, "I'd love to."
Sam held one of Castiel's hands, his other hand pressed against the angels back, Castiel following suit with their other free hand. The two stepped close together, leaving no free space in between them.
"Oh come on," Dean exclaimed, "no no, break it up, leave room for Jesus, God dammit." He told them, which both found an odd statement coming from Dean of all people, and ignored it.
"Nah," Sam told him, "this angel has the space covered."
To Sam's surprise, the angel did know a basic one-two step, and even spun Sam around, pulling him back into their arms. Sam thought that was the end of it until the angel dipped Sam, following the direction, their faces incredibly close to one another.
The angel pulled Sam a little closer, their was a moment where they thought to pull away, but the hopeful look in Sam's eyes were too much to ignore. They captured Sam's lips, Sam kissing them back, even as Dean shouted in the background, "There goes my lunch, I need bleach."
The door opened and closed, only then did either pull back, but they remained close, "Was that to get him to go away?"
"Yes, partially," Castiel admitted.
"The other part?" Sam asked, trying to keep his hope down.
The angel smiled softly at the hunter, "I never kissed someone in the rain."
37 notes
·
View notes
Note
Destiel Hanahaki: both of them have it but Cas’s angel powers keep them from growing in his vessel and one of the big issues Cas had as a human all alone was his flowers starting to grow, and it’s another reason he kept stealing Grace even tho it was killing him, the flowers would also without the Grace so might as well right?
And Cas knows Dean has developed it, probably around season 6, so clearly it’s about Lisa. Cas tells Dean about Dean’s affliction when Dean asks him to erase Lisa’s memories but Dean insists (and Dean knows his flowers aren’t for her, they started once he began missing Cas who was being all weird and distant and then the betrayal and then the lake…). Cas heals Dean’s lungs consistently, he’s asked Dean if he wants Castiel to fully remove them like the surgery would, roots and feelings and all, but Dean the stubborn, loving man that Cas knows he is refuses the full procedure, only asks that the symptoms be treated.
(It’s one of the reasons Dean goes so off the rails when Cas dies or disappears, the longer Cas is away the more the flowers strangle his lungs, because contrary to the usual movement of the disease, where being around the object of one’s unrequited love usually speeds up the process, Dean’s flowers are more content when Cas is around and this makes Cas REALLY not suspect they are for him, Dean truly is one of a kind.
Jack watched in curious horror as he watches the roots only he can see slowly strangle Dean as he waters the flowers with bitterness, alcohol, and a broken heart. Sam tries asking Jack to heal his brother, who he watches cough up orchids and extinct flowers, and ancient plants that predate flowers, but there’s nothing the Nephil can do. Billie sent Dean back into the world of the living with a pruning just before Cas’s return, who didn’t see how bad Dean got away from him in such short amount of time. )
When Cas goes to the Empty, he heals Dean one last time, hoping Dean will one day either go find Lisa or have the surgery to finally heal himself, not knowing he’s only delayed Dean’s death by a few months, not by a rusty nail in a barn, but a broken heart and a jungle in his chest.
(Over the years there have been “allies” and enemies and even a desperate Sam that have tried covert, magical, and usually effective ways removing the roots and feelings fully. Crowley, Rowena, Ketch, and even Naomi and Amara have tried demon, witch, MoL, medical, and angelic treatments to either save this idiot against his consent or to sever his connection to Cas, but these treatments, powerful and usually 100% affective, don’t work to their bafflement)
No MCD (at least none that is permanent) allowed on this blog! X3
Hanahaki is a trope that completely passed me by. I vaguely know what it is but I haven't read a fic about it yet.
In any case!! I don't know if Cas would think that Dean's still mourning Lisa that many years on? Also, what would happen to Lisa in this circumstance? Wouldn't Cas have seen that she doesn't have the flowers? (Or doesn't it have to be mutual? Like some sort of soulmate thing?)
But I don't know enough to really contribute ideas to this scenario, apart from the "NO MCD! *Rowena voice* Fix it!" *lol*
20 notes
·
View notes
Photo
Final Chapter: Chapter 13 [Read Here]
HEAVYWEIGHT
a deancas boxing au by valleydean (emmbrancsxx0)
read from beginning | playlist | ko-fi
SUMMARY: Brooklyn, 1927. The Golden Age of Boxing. Two years ago, light heavyweight champion Dean Winchester and heavyweight champion Castiel Novak had a secret affair. After a scandal tarnished Cas’ name and stripped him of his title, the two parted ways. Now, with a heavyweight tournament on the horizon, Dean aims to up his weight class so he can compete for the title. He finds unexpected competition when Cas comes out of retirement and returns to New York to fix his reputation. Upon their reunion, the two contenders learn that, outside of the ring, some bruises never really heal.
PREVIEW:
He didn’t know how long he’d been asleep when the gentle sound of someone knocking at the front door pulled him languidly back into consciousness. He picked his head up, the now cold washcloth he’d boiled and folded over his forehead sliding off his face in the process. He felt stiffer and more disoriented now than he had when he’d fallen asleep, and a layer of sweat sat atop his skin despite his goosebumps.
The knock came again. Dean moistened his dry lips with his tongue and sat up—and winced when the twisting motion caused a spike of pain in his ribs. He ran his hand down his face, trying to catch his bearings a little, but all it did was exacerbate his wounds.
He hoped someone else would get the door, but the house was quiet, and he remembered that Sam and Jo were both out. It was up to him to tell whoever was knocking to fuck off. He really hoped it wasn’t a reporter looking for a quote.
Yawning and scratching a particularly itchy scab on his chin, he walked to the door, ready to face the music. He ripped the door open to a blast of February’s chill, a colorfully rude demand for the intruder to go away on the tip of his tongue.
He froze when his gaze latched on to Cas instead.
Dean hadn’t remembered having dreams from last night until that very second; but he’d dreamed of Cas in bed with him, running his fingers along every wound until Dean was healed.
Back in reality, Cas looked almost surprised himself, like he hadn’t really expected Dean to answer the door. His face was littered with cuts and contusions, the starkest of which were the angry red strip on the bridge of his nose and the pulsating maroon line on his busted lip. Butterfly stitches were taped to his eyebrow and the bolt of his jaw. A bruise, dark in its center and tapering off to sickly green and yellow, ringed his right eye. A blood vessel had burst in his left eye, staining the white with crimson and muddying the blue of his iris.
Dean’s heart stuttered, knowing he was the one responsible for all of that, knowing Cas was the reason for his pain in return. It was a slap in the face, seeing the evidence of everything they’d ever done to each other in physical form.
Cas’ eyes were big and wet as they took Dean in, but then he blinked, seeming to recover. “Hello, Dean.”
Dean sucked in a breath, filling his hollow chest. It took a while for him to breathe out, for his mind to catch up with what was happening. Cas was there. Dean’s fight or flight instincts kicked in, and he internally debated pushing Cas away or actually hashing this out. After last night, it kind of seemed stupid to maintain the lie that they could ever put each other in the past. It was better to put this to bed once and for all, to face whatever was between them—if anything, even mangled and broken viscera. If it wasn’t too late to save it.
Bracing himself, he opened the door wider and stepped aside. If nothing else, it would get them both out of the cold.
/////
TAGGED: @lovercas @donestiel @wanderingcas @wayward-angels-club @thetiredstuff @skella-bro @casthegrumpy @celestialcastiel @bluefirecas @jiminthestreets-bonesinthesheets @that-one-fandom-chick @haru-park96 @alejandriaiqq @no-aesthetic-all-aethetic @amirosebooks @epple-benene @agus-likes @the-ship-haz-sailed @justkissalreadyforfucksake @madimoo31 @an-angel-in-love-with-a-hunter @gracelesstars @bazghetti @wayward-waffles @theojaxons @jenmishrob @all-or-nothing-baby @auttownblue @leftistdean @sargafust @wannabe-loser @jessalrynn @splicedthoughts @castielss @that-dumbass-on-a-horse @passionfruixts @fabreagab @princesswinchester100 @superduckbatrebel @hopefuldreamers-world@theangelwiththewormstache @casandeans @mylovelydame21 @confusedisaster @superduckbatrebel @destielwentcanonomg @highest-brightness @i-put-the-ayyy-in-asexual @darkacademiagay @imthedoctorlove @freckledean @youcanteverknowenough @chicken-kebabs @myguardianangelisatrickster @hotactiongirlcoded @wingsandimpalas @casandhumanity @tploz @dontsgotalifee389 @on-a-bender @castiel-mybeloved @siriusseverusdeservedbetter @doctorprofessorsong @castielshotgirlsummer @toomuchheartcas @paintdriesfaster @lesbiancowboyy @angelinthefire @transdeantruther @fluffy-alpacaness @rogue-cas-whore @winchester-derangement-syndrome @lizzybennettdarcy @kineticpassion @i-love-books-and-so-do-you @dascean @llamasdumpsterfire @psychicbouquetblaze-stuff @im-some-lionheart @charlie-bradburi @bunnymcbunnister @gothanna @afeelingsosweet @sinnabonka @artsymoth @cassandrablah @sweetpeaalena @goiwantamuffin @rauko-is-a-free-elf @jessalrynn @ungcl @highwarlockofinnsbruck @deancaskiss @caddy-coo @bloodydeanwinchester @hannibalsthembo @proudpigeon @butterscotchdean @this-is-me19 @layofcastiel @claire-drinks-lovely-lemonade @harleycao @jgvfhl @thembo-cowboy @aussie-twat @slit-wrist @ilikemanythingsespeciallyyou
Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future fics or if you’d like to be taken off the list.
#destiel#deancas#destiel fic#deancas fic#dean winchester#dean#castiel#cas#destieledit#deancasedit#my post#my writing#heavyweight#boxing au
98 notes
·
View notes
Text
“I want to be soft,” Dean sighs out, “I’m just not conditioned for it.” He looks at his hands which are calloused and marred with little scars. The beds of his finger nails which are dry and cracked. He was never taught how to be soft. He never had the time to learn how to be soft before he was conditioned to he rough. He was given a shot-gun, the thing too big for his little arms, and practiced hitting his dad’s empty beercans. He didn’t yet have the muscles to keep the gun in place, and his right shoulder used to have bruises from the kickback. He learned how to hustle the pool tables in bars that he snuck into and learned how to cheat during poker. And sometimes he would get busted up for his troubles, but he would be able to go back to whatever janky motel his dad stuffed him and Sam in with money in his pockets and a false sense of pride in his stomach. And he would let people pay him in cash, never accepting a card or anything below 15 dollars, and he would follow them behind their big hauling trucks or in the restrooms of dive-bars to offer them something he didn’t like to think too much about. He killed things with his hands, had gotten blood in his mouth before that didn’t belong to him. Point is, Dean is not soft. He doesn’t know how to be soft.
“Then let me do it for you.” Castiel whispers into the air between them, the air they have began sharing, from where his head rests against Dean’s shoulder. His fingertips are soft as they glide against his warm skin, touching and worshipping scars that wrap around and accent his ribs. He breathes in Dean’s scent; leather and musk and a little floral hint of laundry detergent. Castiel’s hands are soft, inhumanly so, since he often heals what wounds he acquires. The pads of his fingers are against Dean’s warm skin, beneath his shirt, hands slowly reaching back. Fingertips span over his back, tracing his spine in a gentleness unknown to both of them. Castiel hasn’t ever known how to be soft, either, but as it turns out, he’s learned it. Since he dragged Dean out of hell, he has yearned for softness. He has taught himself how to be domestic, almost. He has killed things, killed other angels. He’s seen flashes of wasting grace that did not belong to him, but his hands aren’t calloused. His knuckles don’t carry scars, nor does his chest, or his arms, or his legs, or his back. Castiel has given himself this clean slate, and he’s desperate and determined to make this one last. To do it right. So he learned how to be soft for Dean, he knows it will take time for Dean to learn how to do it for himself, so he vows to do it for him. He can teach him. He can help Dean learn how to sleep in, he can soothe him and comb his fingers through his hair when he wakes up with balled fists and beads of cold sweat. He can sit with Dean in the kitchen as he grumbles about needing coffee, and he could help him master the apple-pie recipe he’s been working on. He may not be able to take out of Dean what has been imprinted, but he can help make it easier to stomach. He can help Dean learn to let himself be soft.
#supernatural#castiel#dean winchester#destiel#real#Dean just doesn’t know how#but Cas doesn’t care#because so long as he can be soft around him#Dean can feel less scared about doing the same#deancas
30 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dating Castiel headcanons <3
I got this requested by @via-252<3 I'm pretty excited to do this request and also wanted to just make a point that there will NOT be NSFW as I believe Castiel to be Asexual. If you guys want an NSFW please send me a request and I'll see what I can do. I hope you enjoy it!
Dating Cass was pure heaven ironically, and not just because he was an angel.
It would be truly special.
You and Castiel met through the Winchesters a bit ago, and you two hit it off immediately. Which surprised Dean and Sam.
Castiel at first would come off really shy towards you because you were the first human he ever fell for. To him, that was a big no-no, since he was raised so differently. But, man did he fall for you hard
You would help him learn anything you were able to, since he was very curious of this world and wanted to learn everything he could. Of course, since you don't know everything yourself. When time let you both you guys would often hit the library or take a class to learn things like pottery, art classes, etc.
You would also help Cass understand humans, such as emotions, the importance of a first kiss, and more.
Cass wouldn't really show affection at first, so you would be doing all the hand-holding, or hugging him.
But, once he figured it out he did it ALOT.
He held your hand often, and after everything you guys fight, he holds your hand longer, hugs you longer, afraid that he will lose you.
He would be so cute and awkward during your first kiss with him, scared he might do it wrong.
"So,I just go for it?"
Him being so cauious would make you giggle
"Yes cass, just go for it."
Once you had your first kiss over with, he would often gives you kisses here and there at a random time. But, you would love it.
Castiel would often ask relationship advice from Dean, since Sam wasn't really all on the market.
"So...I just give her all of..."
"Yes, Cass that's what you do."
Castiel didn't always listen to him, thanfully.
Cass is very protective over you. Get a small scratch, he will automatically heal you. Mild headache? Healed. Someone trying to kill you? Dead. No one, or thing will harm you as long as he is here.
Sometimes his powers would get annoying...Like when he uses them to randomly appear out of nowhere.
Like the time you were undressed in your room, finding clothes to put on for a hunt.
"Cass! Can you please learn not to randomly appear in my room?"
"Yeah...uh I'm sorry...I will be waiting outside"
You and Cass had a very cute relationship, no matter the kinks.
Castiel loved you, a lot.
and you loved him.
That's all that mattered.
#supernatural#spn fandom#spnfamily#spn cast#spn#sammy winchester#sam winchester#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural headcanon#supernatural imagine#supernatural smut#supernatural fic#castiel#castiel x you#castiel supernatural#dating Castiel would be like#dean winchester x plus size reader#deanwinchester#dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#dating sam winchester would include#sam winchester fic#sam winchester x you#team free will#team free will 2.0#castle headcanons#castiel drabble#castiel smut#castiel imagine#castiel edit
386 notes
·
View notes
Text
Collared part 15
Pairing: Dean x Reader eventually
Series summary: Sam and Dean save a woman from where she has been held as a slave by a witch. But things turn dark whenever they try to take her magic collar off, leaving them with a slave to look after and a curse to break.
Episode summary: Cas comes back
Warnings: Panic attacks, although that's pretty par for the course for this series!
Word count: 1.4k
A/N: Ooooh we're ramping up now!!
Series masterlist | Supernatural writing masterlist
Part 14 <- -> Part 16
“Revero,” Dean said, catching your collar. You were strapped into the chair, mouthguard in place. You started to struggle.
“We’re going after the witch, anything you can tell us that'll help?” Sam asked you.
“Ssee’s powerfu’. Frow you roun’,” it was hard to speak, the compulsion was already trying to get you to hold your breath. Presumably it had learnt from last time.
“Where would she keep the spell book?” Dean asked.
“Don’ know. No’ normally wid her, I don’ f-” you lost the battle with the compulsion, unable to force yourself to breathe. Your mouth opened and closed ineffectively, panic rising.
Dean reacted swiftly, placing the collar back around your throat, “Praecludo.”
You gasped for air, wondering why you'd been unable to breathe both times you'd had your collar off recently. You felt a little dizzy, but not as bad as last time. You were still restrained, and tried to fight the rising panic.
“It’s ok, just breathe,” your master murmured as he and Sam worked to free you, and removed the plastic from your mouth. Your master eased you to your knees at his feet.
“Master,” you murmured.
---
A little later, Sam and Dean were in the war room without you. Dean had instructed you to wait in the library for him to get lunch ready, feeling hugely guilty for both lying to you and ordering you to stay.
Dean dialled Cas’ number. He answered on the second ring. “Hey Cas, can you come o-“
Castiel appeared in the room.
“-ver.” Dean hung up the phone. “Thanks.”
“What is it?” Cas asked the brothers.
“We have a lead on the witch,” Sam began. “And we need to go confront her to get up the spell book to free Y/N.”
“And you require my assistance?”
“Not with the witch-”
“We need you to babysit, Cas,” Dean interjected gruffly.
“You have no children,” Cas replied.
“Not a child, a slave: Y/N. We can't leave her alone.”
“Oh.” Cas paused. “What do I do with her?”
Dean sighed. “Just, look after her. Make sure she’s ok. Feed her. Get her to go to bed at an appropriate time. Try not to trigger a panic attack.”
“I am unsure I am up to such a task.”
“You'll be fine,” Sam said encouragingly. Cas reluctantly nodded.
“Ok,” Dean said, “let me just quickly make Y/N some food so I wasn’t lying to her, and then we'll tell her.”
---
Your master and Sam were leaving you. You felt scared, worried and abandoned, but all you’d said was “Yes, sir,” when he’d told you. Trench coat had come back to look after you, apparently his name was Cas. You didn’t know him, you were wary. He had done healing magic on you, which you appreciated, but that meant he could do magic. He was dangerous.
Your master had given you lunch and he and Sam had eaten, then they’d gone to pack. Cas didn’t seem to have eaten anything. The brothers returned to where you were kneeling in the kitchen, telling Cas they were going soon.
Sam came over and ruffled your hair. “See ya soon, Y/N.”
“Goodbye, sir.” Sam picked up his bag and left.
Your master crouched down in front of you and nudged your chin up to look at him. “You’ll be ok,” he said quietly. “Cas will look after you. Sammy and I will be back soon.” You felt your eyes water slightly and you blinked quickly to clear it.
“Yes, sir.”
He cupped your cheek and you leant into it slightly. “It’ll be ok, sweetheart, I promise.”
He stood up. He left.
You resumed looking at the floor. Cas turned to you. “So, Y/N, what do you normally do now?” His voice had a strange impersonal, analytical quality to it.
“My master often reads or uses his computer, sir, and I accompany him.”
“I have no research to be conducting right now. What else do you do?”
You hesitated, but you didn’t want to be punished for leaving out information. “Sometimes Mister Sam and I watch TV, sir. Or my master works on his car.”
“I guess we will watch television then.” He gestured for you to follow him.
---
Cas’ phone began to ring as he led the way to the lounge. He looked at it, ‘Dean Winchester’. He answered, confused because Dean had only just left.
“Don’t you dare show her porn,” Dean growled, then cut the line. A strange afterthought, Cas mused, but he wasn’t wrong. That was the most interesting thing on human television.
Cas revised his plans and headed to the TV.
---
“Do you require sustenance?” Cas asked you later that evening.
“No, sir.” You had eaten that day already; you wouldn't require food for days. You were hungry, but that wasn't what he had asked.
“Don't humans eat more often than this?” Humans? What?!
“I- uh- humans, sir?” You said, momentarily losing your normal, pre-prepared responses due to his comment. At least he wasn't your master to see you acting so inappropriately.
“Yes. You are human, are you not?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Most humans I know eat frequently.”
“I- I- Sir?” You were entirely thrown by this conversation.
It suddenly hit you. Cas wasn’t human. What was he?! You started to panic, taking quick, shallow breaths. Aren't witches human?!
“Oh, uh. Please stop panicking. Dean said I shouldn’t give you a panic attack.”
You continued to hyperventilate.
He looked at you quizzically.
“Ok, this is a problem I can solve.” You assumed he was speaking to himself, as that made no sense. “You are worried about what I said, perhaps.”
You didn't respond, continuing to freak out. What could he be other than human?!
“You are concerned that you are human?”
He paused. “No, you probably already knew that. Oh, you are concerned that I am not human?”
“What- what- what are you?!” You said, panicked. After a second, you added, “Sir.”
“I am an angel. I thought Dean would have told you.”
“Angels are- are real?”
“Yes. It’s why I could heal you.”
You were still hyperventilating, not sure whether this was a good thing or not.
“You should breathe slower.”
You couldn't stop, your mind was reeling. An angel could probably blink you out of existence if you were bad. An angel could probably smite you. Forget witches, angels were probably 300 times more powerful.
Cas pulled out his phone and dialled a number. He held it to his ear. “Dean, I think I gave her a panic attack,” he said in the same almost expressionless monotone. He must have rung your master. You started to panic more: your master would be angry with you.
“I told her I'm an angel.” Pause.
“Because she was confused when I asked her why she didn't need to eat as often as other humans.” Pause.
“She said she did not require sustenance.” Pause.
“I cannot feed her now, she is breathing too much. It is ineffectual for her.”
He pulled the phone away from his ear and spoke to you. “Dean wishes to speak to you.” He put the phone to your ear.
“Heya, sweetheart,” your master said through the phone. “I know you're freaked out, but Cas isn't going to hurt you. He's a good angel.” You could hear noises behind him, it sounded like your car trip when you had arrived with your master. “I need you to slow down your breathing for me. Take some nice slow, deep breaths.”
The collar forced your compliance, but it still took a while to stop hyperventilating.
“That's it, good girl. I would never leave you with someone who was going to hurt you.” He listened to your breathing a few more moments. “Ok, well done, sweetheart. Are you ok now?”
“Yes, sir.” You were always ok.
“Can you put Cas back on?”
“My master wishes to speak to you, sir,” you said to Cas.
Cas took the phone back to his own ear and listened, before saying, “You did not say that before you left.” Pause.
“Yes.” Pause.
“Yes.” Pause.
“I will avoid panicking her further.” Pause.
“Goodbye, Dean.” He hung the phone up.
Cas turned back to you. “I am sorry I worried you. Dean says that you do require sustenance.”
.
A/N: Would love to hear your theories about Dean's half of the conversations! 🤣
@malindacath
@stoneyggirl2
@iprobablyshipit91
@minty-fresh-donkey
@tiggytaylor
@ellie-andthemachine
@muhahaha303
@nameslessismypricetowhateverend
@deans-spinster-witch
@mrswhozeewhatsis
@kazsrm67
@leigh70
@ellie-andthemachine
@mrsjenniferwinchester
@lyarr24
@foxyjwls007
@sassy-pelican
@saiyanprincessswanie
@i-am-trash-with-respect
@sojuxxi
@ilovedean-spn2
@lacilou
#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x you#supernatural#dean winchester angst#supernatural fanfiction#spn#spn fanfiction#collar#sam winchester#sam winchester fanfiction#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester saves you#dark fanfiction#dean x reader#dean x you#supernatural x reader#slavery#dean winchester hurt/comfort#sam winchester x platonic!reader#supernatural angst
174 notes
·
View notes
Text
Characters I think would get along extremely well with each other but unfortunately will never meet
So much more than the simple “dudes in love with their car and with their angel friends”; they have the same coping mechanism (hiding emotions and pretending to be uncaring while they actually care about everything and everyone) but they have extremely different traumas (Crowley rebelled, Dean was too loyal to his father, which whom he had a toxic relationship). They wouldn’t only get along, with the right conversation they would heal each other.
They’re both angels who rebelled against Heaven in order to spend more time on Earth with the guy they love. I think Castiel deserves an angel friend that’s not an asshole, it would really help him realizing good people still exist. They’re found family material.
They both felt different in their own families all through their childhood. Something in their blood curses them into being something they don’t want to be. They both are attracted to darkness, particularly to the things their families have fought for generations. Also, they’re both nerds and far too smart compared to the people they have to deal with (they’re done with everyone’s bullshit).
They’re the same character in a different font. They would fuck immediately and I love the idea.
Can you sense the girlboss vibe? Nadja would hate Rowena at first, because she’s a witch, but getting to know each other I just KNOW they would be besties. I know.
#wwdits#what we do in the shadows#spn#supernatural#good omens#go#aziraphale#crowley#crowley spn#dean winchester#sam winchester#guillermo de la cruz#nadja of antipaxos#laszlo cravensworth#rowena macleod
43 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
sweetieheart-rexi
My ANA diary
areyourunningoutoftime
tomorrow spring will come
yuzu-zi
Yuzka's box
spnfallen-blog
Saving people, hunting things
ask-cambot
Ask Cambot