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sweetcatmintea · 4 years

Text

I found an Angel

Just for funzies, here’s a disturbing little drabble that’s been floating around in my head lately.

Trigger warnings: descriptions of injury, implied abduction, it’s kinda messed up Words: 943

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I found an angel lost and hopeless in one of the countless forgotten corners of the city. It trembled so. I wondered if the rain would not dissolve it to nothing. The poor little thing could save not even itself. I took it home, promises, promises, sweet on my tongue. It put its hand in mine, so tiny, so frail, its bones filigree porcelain. Heavy wings, a burden too big for its body, they caught the wind with every step, pulling it back, back, away from me. I gave it a meal and sent it to bed. I was gentle, so very gentle, when I clipped those wings, too big for its frame. As an angel, it was useless. It did not need them. They were wasted on it. I could do so much more. I would be so much more. One long night, two doses of hard liquor, three mirrors in the bathroom, four feet of thread, and a needle sharp as grief. Stitch by stitch, I crowned myself in its feathers.

A red morning came, an ache in my skin. They were heavier than I expected. It felt good. I was finally pure. I would do more than the little angel ever could. Bandages wrapped around and around, breathing was sacrificed to dam the scarlet from the feathers. They twitched with my giddy heart. I paraded those wings, so proud, so good. Day after day, I made the world better. People began to see me for the person I was. They loved me. They loved that I was good, that the wings were not wasted.

The poor little wretch, the angel without its wings, I kept it safe in my house. Safe in its new home. I left a music box playing for it. Quiet pauses punctuated by raspy sobs, rattling through the walls. I considered wringing its neck. Putting it out of its misery. Instead, I took pity on it. It wanted to leave, I could tell, but there was no where in the world for a useless angel. I was gentle and I was kind. I let it stay with me.

It began with an itch, then a smell, then a burn. Stitches seeped rot, weeping pungent tears into the feathers, into my shirt. My head swam with fever, limbs trembling at every exertion. I lost control of those wings, control but not feeling. They clung to my back, pulling at the decaying skin, hanging limp and heavy. Useless again. The love dripped away with the sweat. No matter what I did, they avoided me. I made the world better but they were selfish.

I did what I could to save those wings. I pulled them, stitch by stitch from my back once more. Layers of skin and fat and rot slopped down my spine. Raw muscles quivered as the air teased anew. Knife slippery with oil, hunks of ruined meat fell from those wings. I gave them back to the wretched little angel. Though I was kind and I was gentle, there was not much left to return. Fever burnt my insides. I knelt beside the sorry creature. I thought I might die. My heart quivered, bile burning the back of my tongue. The angel moaned, skin soaked in blood. I felt sorry for my hopeless angel. I thought it would die.

Echo jolted, consciousness reaching her body before her mind. Her arms were heavy, shaking. Her whole body was shaking. Though it didn’t want to listen, she forced herself to sit up on the bed. Her wings trembled, unable to fold against her skin. Lightning flashed a blinding white into the room. Her scars stung faintly. She wondered if it was the low rumble of thunder overhead that woke her up, any memories of dreams already gone. Her heart raced and she was seized by an overwhelming urge to cry. These nights made no sense.

For a moment, she sat on her bed listening to the rain pelt the window as she tried to calm her shuddering lungs. When she could convince herself that she had enough control over her limbs that she wouldn’t fall the instant she stood, Echo hopped up, ambling the short distance to her brother. He was sleeping soundly. Reluctance niggled at her, she didn’t really want to wake him. A loud crack of thunder was all she needed. One hand clutching her shirt, she tugged his sleeve with the other. His eyes snapped open in an instant, fur bristling. She tugs his sleeve again. Ears lowered and eyes misting, she was a pathetic sight. She just wanted a hug.

Without an immediate threat in sight, Storm relaxed again.

“What’s wrong?” He licked his lips, mouth dry from sleep. “Did the storm wake you?”

Echo didn’t know. She nodded anyway.

Storm made a sympathetic noise, broken with a yawn. His ears tilted with concern as he thumbed the tear trail of her cheeks. Had she been crying?

“Alright. Do you want to sleep with me?”

He didn’t bother waiting for an answer, pulling the thin sheet up for her to crawl into bed with him. Echo tucked herself into his chest, her scarred back pressing into his scarred front. He wasn’t very warm and her wings were squished between them, but she didn’t mind. It felt safe. He pet her head while she settled, whispering quiet comforting words until the shakes went away. Finally ready to sleep again, he looped his arm over her, pulling her close. As her breathing evened into a gentle rhythm, he kissed the top of her head goodnight and closed his eyes. He would keep her safe.

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Tag list

@snobbysnekboi, @inkovert, @kainablue, @i-rove-rock-n-roll, and @goblin-writer

To be honest, I’m much happier with the first part than the second. It didn’t start out as a dream but I thought it hit a lot of Echo’s issues so it kinda fit. It’s probably a good thing she thinks she doesn’t dream.

#writing #writblr #drabble #gore #description of injury #implied abduction #ask to tag #original writing #original fiction #original characters #Character mentions #Echo #Storm #Echo's Tail

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pinknerdpanda · 5 years

Text

Goodnight, Cas

Word Count: 1,796

Characters: Castiel x Reader

Warnings: Fluff

Beta’d by @wheresthekillswitch & @hannahindie

A/N: Written for @spnfluffbingo and the #BTZ Bingo Challenge

Squares Filled: Bed Sharing (on both cards)

Goodnight, Cas

A chime above the door tinkles softly as I enter. The gentle flickering of the fluorescent light overhead is a harsh contrast to the inky black night I’ve just stepped in from. The space is small and has a faint musty smell. Other than a short countertop and what looks to be the pathetic corpse of a once lush, green fern in the corner, the room is empty.

It has been a long trip and a longer day and I am exhausted. I sigh; patience is not what I would consider a personal strength. Just as I lift my hand to chime the bell on the counter, a tall, thin woman with unnaturally red hair appears from the doorway behind the counter.

“Oh, hello there!” she chimes, her tone much too cheery given the late hour. “What can I do for you?”

I open my mouth to respond, but am cut off by the sound of the door chime. I glance over my shoulder to find Castiel, his hands hanging loosely at his sides. He offers me a small smile and a slight nod and I turn back to the woman. Her eyes drift toward Cas and I watch as her pupils grow wide, her nose scrunching up as though she’s had a thought that is just out of reach.

I have gotten so accustomed to Cas’ slight otherworldliness over the years, that I forget how unsettling it can be at first. He looks almost completely human, his true form cloaked by his chosen vessel, but some things just can’t be hidden. His irises are so blue they practically glow and there’s a look in his eyes that makes him seem infinitely wise while at the same time in utter awe of everything he sees. And then there’s the way he stands so perfectly still that he looks as though he’s carved from marble.

I clear my throat, drawing her attention once more. Her cheeks match her hair and she blinks at me as if she’s coming out of a trance.

I smile. “We need a double room, please.”

She glances at Cas again before looking back at me and frowning. “Unfortunately, we only have a single queen room available. Will that work for you?”

I sigh. “I guess we’ll find another place. Thanks anyway.”

“A single will be just fine,” Cas replies, his voice gravelly. His tan trench coat brushes my shoulder as he moves to stand next to me.

I squint at him, puzzled. He ducks his head to whisper in my ear.

“You are exhausted and need rest. I don’t sleep, so a second bed would be superfluous anyway.”

The rasp in Castiel’s voice tickles my ear and sends shivers down my spine. I’m fairly certain he is unaware of the effect on me, but he can be hard to read. At any rate, I try my hardest to appear unaffected. “Ok then. We’ll take the single queen.”

The woman hesitates, shooting me a questioning look. I nod, smiling at her.

“Ok then. It will be $60 a night. Will that be cash or card?”

----

The water pressure needs a little work and the showerhead could be a good six to eight inches higher, but the water is hot and my muscles are singing, and right now that’s all I care about. I sigh, ducking my head to wet my hair, the water trailing down my face. Lather, rinse, repeat. Scrub, shave and the water begins to cool. Reluctantly I turn the knob, cutting the water and I shiver as I step out onto the thin terry cloth rug. I work quickly to dry off, dress, brush my teeth and twist my hair up in a towel.

Castiel is sitting in a faded orange chair next to the bed as I exit the bathroom. He looks up at me as I shuffle to the bed and plop down.

“Do you feel better?” He smiles.

I tug the towel from my head, wringing the excess water from my hair and tossing it aside. “So much better. Are you sure you’ll be okay not sleeping?”

Castiel smiles, reassuringly. “I am a celestial being, y/n; I don’t require sleep. I’ll keep watch as you rest, perhaps read one of the lore books Sam lent me.”

I yawn, weariness settling into my bones. “Ok. Thank you, Cas.” I pull the comforter and sheet back, sliding underneath and settling myself against the lumpy pillow. At this point, it could be a rock for all I care. Cas pulls the switch on the lamp and the room goes black. The last thing I see before drifting into unconsciousness, is the subtle glow of his eyes staring back at me from the darkness.

-----

I wake with a start, though I can’t say for sure why. It’s disappointing, really. For one, I was sleeping like a baby, but mostly I was having a particularly steamy dream about a certain trenchcoat clad angel. I sit up, yawning and blinking into the darkness. Grumbling, I climb out of the bed and make my way to the bathroom; I suppose I have my bladder to thank for the intrusion.

After washing my hands, I stumble back to the bed, still trying to get my bearings straight. The room is dark, and the bed isn’t mine. Where am I? I yawn again. Castiel’s face pops into my memory and my cheeks burn, the memory of the dream still fresh. And that’s when it hits me. Where’s Castiel?

I bolt upright again, a wave of uneasiness slamming into me. I glance around the room, my eyes having not yet fully adjusted to the darkness. There’s the faintest snore coming from the other side of the room. I slide off the bed, tiptoeing toward the sound.

Castiel is laying on the floor on his stomach, his tan coat balled up under his head. It’s all at once incredibly endearing and somewhat concerning. Angels don’t sleep. So what is my angel doing passed out on the dingy carpet of the hotel room?

I kneel down beside him, hesitating before I place a hand on his shoulder and shaking him gently. He stirs, sucking in a deep breath and looking up at me. The look on his face is enough to melt me into a puddle. There’s a fine, red line running down one cheek from a crease in his makeshift pillow. His eyes are heavy and bleary as he squints at me before glancing around, confused. His hair is normally a little bed-head-ish on a good day, but now it’s flat on one side, the other sticking up haphazardly. I want to lean forward and kiss the creases in his forehead, but I manage to stop myself. He yawns and sits up.

“Y/n?” His voice has reached new levels of raspiness and he clears his throat. “What happened?”

“I’m not sure,” I bite my lip. “I think you were sleeping.”

He frowns and it’s beyond adorable. Keep it together, y/n.

“I don’t understand. I’ve never slept before.”

I rock back on my heels, stifling a yawn of my own. “Could it have something to do with the God Squad clipping your wings?”

Cas drops his gaze to a spot on the floor, still frowning. “I suppose it’s possible. My powers have been limited for some time.”

“We’ve all been working long hours trying to track down Michael. Maybe it’s just catching up to you?”

Cas nods and I stand, offering my hand to help him up. He looks pointedly at my hand, his head tilted to one side.

“Come on, sleeping beauty,” I wiggle my fingers and he slowly raises his head to meet my gaze, confusion etched into his features.

“I’m unsure what you are asking of me and I fail to see what a Disney animated movie has to do with anything.”

“Oh Cas,” I sigh. “I am inviting you to share the bed with me. There’s plenty of room and if you’re going to sleep, you might as well be comfortable.”

I reach out, grabbing his hand and tugging it gently. He hesitates before standing, his eyes still locked on mine and his expression indicating that he’s still unsure.

“If it is weirding you out, we can make a wall of pillows between us,” I offer. I drop his hand, shifting my weight and looking at my feet.

“Why would I be,” he curls his fingers to emphasize the words, “‘weirded out’?”

“I don’t know, you’re looking at me funny, and you don’t seem that interested,” I pause, trying to keep the impending flood of anxious thoughts from tumbling from my lips. “If you want to share the bed, great. If not, that’s your choice. But I am going back to bed.”

His hand catches my arm as I turn to walk back toward the bed, stopping me. My gut reaction is to be irritated, but at the moment, embarrassment seems to be winning out. I am a brave, independent and strong woman; why is this making me so damn flustered?

“I appreciate your kindness and I apologize for making you feel insecure.” When I finally manage to look him in the eye, I find a sincere warmth there and it’s comforting. “I cannot think of anything I would enjoy more than falling asleep and waking up next to you.”

Though I can’t see it, I would bet money that the look on my face closely resembles the look he’d given me about 2 minutes earlier. He smiles, releasing his gentle grip on my arm and taking my hand in his.

He leads me to the bed, gesturing for me to settle in as he sits on the bed and begins untying one shoe then the next. He yawns, loosening his tie and tossing it on the nightstand. I can’t help but watch him as he stands, pulling his belt from the loops of his pants and setting it next to his tie. He pulls back the covers, sliding between the sheet and the duvet and settling back against the pillow. He turns his head to face me, a smile playing along his lips.

“What?” I frown.

“Nothing,” he muses, tucking one hand under his head. “This is just...so normal. It’s quite nice.”

Chuckling I lay back, staring at the ceiling.

“Night, Castiel.”

I feel a gentle tapping from under the blanket like he’s patting the bed. Seconds later his hand lands on mine and he slides our palms together, our fingers slotting perfectly. He sighs, his grip on my hand firm and reassuring.

“Goodnight, y/n.” He yawns sleepily, squeezing my hand lightly. “Sweet dreams.”

Joke’s on him; this is better than any dream I’ve had. Well, so far anyway.

Like what you see? Want more? My Masterlist is here. Thanks for reading! :)

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@chelsea072498

@paintrider13-blog

@d-s-winchester

@just-a-touch-of-sass-and-fandoms

@just-another-busy-fangirl

@winchesterprincessbride

@waywardjoy

@like-a-bag-of-potatoes

@mamaredd123

@ellen-reincarnated1967

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#cas x reader #castiel x reader #castiel fluff #spn fluff bingo #btzbingo #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #panda writes

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newalteris · 6 years

Text

Rings

The docks during the morning hours were always a sight to behold in the north. Rev usually sat nearby on a crate nobody needed to move and watched the men with their daily work, lifting and pulling and shouting and unloading other cargo off the boats that came to their small harbor.

IF THE WINDS ARE A-CALM WE’LL SAIL A’RIGHT ALONG

O’ IF THE WINDS ARE A-CALM WE’LL SAIL A’RIGHT ALONG

AND WE’LL ALL HANG ON BEHIND

Their singing especially. There was rarely ever a day where someone didn’t explode into song as they moved to and fro, bidding others to join in with them. If there was one talent that was widespread among the Northerners then it was definitely their uncanny ability to harmonize.

IF THE STORM BREWS ON WE’LL ALL SURELY LOSE OUR WAY

O’ IF THE STORM BREWS ON WE’LL ALL SURELY LOSE OUR WAY

The shanties were rarely ever sung the same way, only because half of them forgot the words and opted to make up their own each time. Still, it all worked out nicely.

WE’LL ROLL THE OL’ CHARIOT ALONG

Rev scratched at his nose and shivered as a cold wind hit him in the face, straight from the sea.

AND WE’LL ROLL THE OL’ CHARIOT ALONG

Slowly he got to his feet. They were pounding in his boots from the numbing cold, and he wanted nothing more than to go back indoors now.

AND WE’LL ROLL THE OL’ CHARIOT ALONG

AND WE’LL ALL HANG ON BehiIAOAHGHWAOHG- He didn’t even take a single step.

The dockworkers slowly began to quiet down, off key and confused.

“Oy WHAT’IN’A HELL WASAT?!”

A chorus of grumbles and slurs and other unpleasant things rang from around the docks.

“LOOK! LOOK WHAT IS THAT?!-”

Rev furrowed his brows. He’d heard grown men screech and holler before but not anything so terrified like this. The rest of them, under the same impression looked at one another before swarming over to wherever the commotion was.

There wasn’t anything in the water, nothing was wrong with the boats. No, they were all gathered around this frozen patch of ground and staring down at it like a big group of curious dogs that heard something make a funny noise.

“Do my eyes deceive me?? That- That CAN’T-”

“NOBODY TOUCH IT lest ye’ be TAKEN-”

…It sounded like they were all going mad. Luckily for Rev, he spotted a familiar face in the crowd, way in the back and trying to lean in to get a better look. “Wyatt!!” Wyatt turned his head and waved Rev over, before deciding instead to break away and join him. “Hoy there southerner, don’ git too close. Looks like Nelson o’er there’s spotted this wee lil’ pixie ring!”

“A what.”

He put an arm around Rev’s scrawny shoulders. “Yeh know, pixie rings? They pop up all o’er th’ forest in th’ summer time. That’s when all th’ trouble-makin’ sprites are out n’ about!”

The priest stared up at him, completely deadpan. “You don’t actually believe that do you?”

“OH FER FUCK’SAKE MARTIN DON’ GO PRODDIN’ IT! YER GONNA DAMN BRING A CURSE ON US ALL!!”

“Heh, well what do YOU think?”

Rev grumbled. “This is ridiculous. What is it, just a ring of moss? Mushrooms?”

“Aye, caps.”

Rev rolled his eyes and made his way over there. Some of the sailors parted the way for him (they always did that, seeing how small he was compared to the lot of them) but they hissed as he got closer to the aforementioned ‘pixie ring’.

“Oy southerner don’ go touchin’ that accursed thing! A’ready questionable enough that YER amongst us, don’ need nothin’ else mad takin’ th’ piss outta this place!” Several agreements arose.

“It’s just a ring of mushrooms. They grow like that sometimes all over the place. Not sure why it would HERE during the WINTER time…” He stared down at the tiny pathetic mushrooms in a sloppy ring.

“Well if yer claimin’ ya got bigger stones then go ahead n’ touch it n’ see what happens!”

“I think I will.” Everyone practically held their breath as Rev held his foot over the ring. They all collectively backed up, like he was about to stick his boot into some diseased pool.

Even Wyatt was biting his lip nervously. “Aheheh uh- priest are yeh sure ya wanna go n’ potentially AGITATE things ‘round here? A-ah mean not that ah believe in that stuff-” He gulped loudly. “B-BUT yeh never know! Best not ta press our luck after all we been through heh?!”

“Not you too…”

“N-no not me too-ALRIGHT YA LILY-LIVERED HOUNDS YEH BEST BE GITTEN ON BACK TA WO-”

No sooner did the words leave Wyatt’s lips did Rev place his foot down in the middle of the ring. The dockworkers shouted in complete and utter terror before dispersing in all directions like a frightened herd of cats.

“THE SOUTHERNER’S FOCKIN’ CURSED US-”

“ANOTHER DAMNED BLOODY WAR UPON US, THE HARBOR’LL DRY UP AN’ THE FISH’LL LEAVE-”

Rev of course, only stood there, unable to comprehend what just happened.

Wyatt stood in the place he’d been standing in the entire time, wringing his hands nervously. “..S-so nothin’ happened?” “No, nothing happened…I can’t believe the lot of you… Nothing scares you- STORMS and WOLVES and GUNS don’t frighten you but mushrooms do?” “WELL,” Wyatt blurted out, backing up. “Where are you going-” “A-AH remember ah got SOMEWHERE TA BE. BE SEEIN’ YA!” It wasn’t long before he too took off running.

Rev remained in his spot, blinking. Practically one eyeball at a time with out ridiculous this all was.

_________

“So, how was th’ harbor? Sing-songy enough fer ya?” Harlon asked over dinner.

Rev sighed loudly. “It was, until one of the men found a ring of mushrooms and proceeded to get everyone riled up about it.” “Oh?” “Wyatt called it a pixie ring. I haven’t seen him all day.” “Bah, that load of nonsense. It’s superstition. Those bastards will believe any lil’ thing they’ve heard. ‘S just a story they used ta tell children so they wouldn’ wander off into th’ valleys during the summer evenings.”

“I thought so. So,” Rev took another bite of food, fork clinking on his plate. “I took a step right in the middle, and they all ran off.”

Harlon paused mid-bite before swallowing his food uneasily. “Oh? Huh…can’t say’m surprised then. Don’ worry, they’ll ferget all about it soon enough.” “I don’t care if they don’t. If anything maybe they’ll learn there’s nothing to be afraid of.” Rev took his empty plate and began to clean up, not worried about a thing. “Are you finished eating?” “Huh? Uh- yeah, yeah. Here…Thanks.” Harlon muttered, absentmindedly handing him his plate while he sat at the table and stared at nothing. “Listen d…do we have any rosemary?”

“Rosemary?? Why? I think so. Do you need it for something??” Rev asked, looking over his shoulder and raising a brow.

“Oh nah uh… nah don’t worry for it. I’ll be outside in th’ garden and th’ yard fer a short spell.” He answered quickly as he headed out the door.

#as much as they seem otherwise they are easily spooked by the supernatural #they are abunch of scared dogs #revs just

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