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how-the-feathers-have-fallen · 1 year

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I stare into the void. And it looks away. I think it's never been loved enough to look back

#ATTENTION PLEASE: this was a Draft Leak my apologies I'll just. leave it here okay?#icarus' random screaming #icarus' random cryptic quotes #icarus' supernatural hell #destiel #despair #cascore #cas pov #castiel #supernatural #spn #tempted to speech bubble this #deancore #dean pov #it goes both way tbh #the draft leak incident

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dykeydean · 4 months

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We’re standing under the neon vacancy sign of the motel, and you’re starin’ at me and I’m lookin’ anywhere else. I’m takin’ a drag of the cig and handing it back to you, and I’m tryin’ to drag my eyes away from you takin’ a pull of it.

“Don’t it bother you?” you say, and I finally flick my eyes back up to yours. “That shit your dad says?”

I smile despite myself, ‘cause you’re just so damn honest. Not joking so I got nothin’ to snap back with. It’s new to me, the way you talk: all honest and genuine but still quick and funny. Not that stupid soft shit chicks are into, but not all rough edges like I am. I think I like it a little more than I prob’ly should.

I cross my arms over my chest and stare back out at the sky. Even after all these years, I still like it out here in small Midwest towns rather than the big East Coast cities. Lets you see more stars, and sometimes I can look up and pretend I’m at a ranch out in the country rather than a motel on the edge of another nameless town. “Do you get along with your dad?” I finally say.

You scrunch your nose up and pass me back the cig, and I’m smiling too much to take a drag of it. “Not the same, Dean,” you say.

I snort and take another drag, slow and careful with it. I can feel your eyes on me, and damn if I don’t blush. You prob’ly think I blush easy, with how much you make me do it, but it’s only you that brings it out. Only you.

“Sure, Lee,” I say. “Sure.”

And here’s the thing I’m not saying: I like that you care but I got no freakin’ clue what to do with it. No clue how to tell you all the shit about my dad ‘cause it’s been balled up inside me for years and I got a strict set of instructions in my brain when it comes to him. How to survive. How to survive when it feels like I got a shotgun for a father.

I told you once that sometimes I feel like no more than an extension of my dad and his gun and you took my hands in yours so gently, so gently and said you’re so much more and if I didn’t know any better I’d’ve started crying right then and there.

I don’t get you, Lee. You’re all lefts and rights. Rights and wrongs, sugar and salt. A hunter but not like me ‘n dad, a drinker but you don’t got that anger that comes with it, a lover but you ain’t cheap and fast about it.

I try not to think about how I know that when I see dad’s car pull up, like he’d be able to read my mind.

“You should go,” I say, dropping the stub of the cig and scuffing it under the toe of my boot. Dad’s headlights turn off.

“I thought the old man liked me,” you say playfully, with a little half-smile, but you know. We both know.

Sure, he tolerates you on hunts, but that’s about the extent to which he tolerates anyone- and that’s including me ‘n Sammy, even if I won’t say that to you. Last time he caught us drinkin’ together this late at night he pulled a gun on you. And when you left, he tucked his gun away and took out his fists.

Sometimes, I think I’d prefer the gun.

“Don’t know if he really likes anyone,” I say, laughing, but it comes out weak- nothin’ really to laugh about, I’m just tryin’ to make it seem better than it is. You see right through me and I know it. “And he sure won’t like… this.” I gesture between us, and you nod.

“See you, then,” you say, and I nod, and for a second I think you might kiss me, but you walk right past me and into the night.

I stare after you as you leave ‘cause I wanted it so bad I can’t think.

#deanlee #dean winchester #lee webb #my writing #ficlet #spn #supernatural #spn fic #a study in pov #dean pov #set nebulously pre-canon #ezra posts

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dessertbird · 1 year

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Daily Destiel 💙💚

From hallucinating your dead lover to him really being back. 😳🥹❤️

#Destiel #deancas #destiel is canon #their love is real #from hallucinations to reality #Cas is back from purgatory #dean pov

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fandom-hoarder · 1 month

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and of things that will bite

Wayward Sons Zine Submission 2024

Rating: Teen+ | Words: 22k | No Archive Warnings Apply

Summary: In January 1994, Sam has a nightmare, and Dad goes missing. The boys take to the road to find him.

Tags: Dean POV, weechesters, life on the road, sam has nightmares, sam has visions, gencest, mostly canon compliant, canon typical violence, elements of psychic sam, john winchester’s a+ parenting, caretaker dean, chick flick moments (full tag list on AO3)

Excerpt:

“Wanna tell me about your nightmare?” Sam stiffened in Dean’s arms. “I–I…I can’t,” Sam croaked. Dean tried not to take it personally, but in the dark he frowned. More and more lately, Sammy had been trying to prove he could handle everything Dean could. For the most part, Dean was glad—and not just because he got to go on more hunts with Dad instead of babysitting. Sammy growing into the family business had been one of Dean’s biggest wishes for a while now. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t still Sam’s big brother, or that he didn’t want Sam to still need him sometimes. Especially if Sam’s nightmares were this rough on him. Sammy had barely even seen anything yet. When Dean’s arms tightened a little more around his little brother, as if it would keep the nightmares away, Sam didn’t say anything. And when Sam’s arm wriggled under him and his other hand grabbed Dean’s necklace like a talisman, Dean didn’t say anything either.

#wayward sons zine #my fanfiction #weechesters #dean pov #life on the road #spn fanfiction #sam n dean fanfiction #john winchester's a+ parenting

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youchangedmedestiel · 24 days

Link

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: Supernatural (TV 2005)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Words: 1,127

Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester

Characters: Castiel (Supernatural), Dean Winchester

Additional Tags: Canon Universe, Episode: s11e23 Alpha and Omega (Supernatural), POV Dean Winchester, Pining Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Thinking, Touching, but like really light touches, Let's say it, Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, but he is kinda struggling with that, because he is dean, this could totally fit in the episode, it's like I'm just filling in a gap

Summary:

After Mildred's advice, now that Cas is not possessed by Lucifer anymore and since the sun is dying, Dean takes him to watch a sunset on their way to a beer run.

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aishitara · 4 months

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PB 100 Prompt Fill - Update

(in which Charlie correctly interprets Dean's hesitation lol)

“Alright Winchester, spill!” Charlie says, voice unnecessarily loud for such an ungodly hour. Dean pulls the phone away from his ear with a wince. He hasn’t even had his coffee yet.

“Charlie, what —”

“I want an update! You stayed over, didn’t you?”

“Well yeah, but —”

“But nothing! Spill. The. Tea!”

Dean glances over his shoulder to where Cas is still lying asleep behind him on the bed, only his unruly hair poking out from under the comforter.

“Okay, Charles, keep it down.” He takes a breath. “We may have — uh.”

Charlie’s squeal could probably be heard on the freaking moon.

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the-coda-project · 10 months

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The Coda Project | 1.05 Sinking in the Quicksand

Dean knows Sam noticed his eyes bleeding when they were fighting Bloody Mary, but Sam hasn't asked why. Dean spirals as he wonders what that means.

Toledo is three hours in the rear view, and Dean still has dried blood flaking at the edges of his fingernails. Itching under his collar.

He desperately needs a shower, but getting out of town before more cops arrived at the trashed antique store was a whole lot higher on the priorities list than stopping to wash up, and he'd had to settle for wiping the worst of it from his face with an ancient KFC wet wipe and a wad of napkins as he'd steered the car toward the interstate with his other hand. He's been fantasizing about hot water and a fresh change of clothes ever since. Now, as he glances down at the dashboard, he silently thanks his baby for the excuse that her near-empty fuel tank is giving him.

"Almost outta gas," he says aloud when he takes the next exit ramp, and in his periphery he sees Sam flinch at the sound of his voice. "You mind filling the tank while I hit the head?"

"Yeah, sure."

It's the first time either of them have spoken in hours.

Keep reading

#supernatural fic #cass writes fic #imogenbynight #the coda project #S01E05 Bloody Mary #Episode Coda #1.5k words #Gen #Dean POV

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babysoftboyking · 6 months

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“you’re purifying me, dean.” sam says, a smile painted reverently on crimson stained lips as he grasps dean’s gushing wrist in his palm, partaking of the flesh.

“its working, you make me feel…” Sam pauses, yellow-tinted eyes flitting up to meet the conflicted viridescent of Dean’s. his gaze flickers all across Sam’s face, desperately searching for a sign, holding out hope for even the slightest hint of the soft, kindhearted nature that defined his baby brother—a softness which he does not find, all hard edges now. A softness, a death which he has to be willfully ignorant to. Dean stares as Sam’s face twists into a cruel grin as he continues, mouthful of blood, “—clean. I think you’re washing the poison out, all that demon blood, but you—you’re making me holy again, can’t you feel it, big brother?”

It’s mocking in essence, a mimicry of the real Sam, of his fears and desires. Dean turns his head, can’t bear it anymore. He feels like he’s going insane, mind slowly unraveling as he spends more time around.. it. He feels movement suddenly, Sam slithering up his body and curling into his lap, wickedly reminiscent of when they were kids and he’d do the same thing. He feels the wet hot of Sam’s breath as he presses his lips to the shell of Dean’s ear, whispering, “I can hear everything you’re thinking.” Dean shivers.

Apart of him wants to turn and look, to spit or curse or yell some more, but he can’t bring himself to move so much as a muscle. it’s not like he’s restrained, he’s here by choice and because, as Sam put it, “running is futile, i’ll just track you down anyways.” Just as the thought crosses his mind that he is infact, not restrained and that he can move, Sam has the gall to snort-laugh at him before he gets up and goes into the bathroom, door shutting swiftly behind him.

Dean stares after him, missing his little brother like hell, only made worse by the fact that it’s his fault Sam’s all twisted up like this in the first place; if he hadn’t made that deal, they could’ve avoided this mess entirely, but a world without Sam in it is no world worth living in. it couldn’t have been any other way, he couldn’t have gone on without Sam, yet, here Sam is, worse for the wear (or better, in Sam’s opinion), and apart of dean is still glad just to have him. a bigger part of him knows he has to fix this, knows he has to make things right. he wants his little brother back, not some soulless reincarnate. he’ll get Sammy back, he has to. He just doesn’t know how… yet.

#blood mention #religion mention #this was supposed to be just the first sentence but it. evolved #boyking!sam #dean pov #w.i.p #also weirdish/non canonical timeline cause this takes place in s2 but the demon blood sam mentions is supposed —#to be ruby’s (even though he’s had azael’s blood in him since birth)#masons ramblings #weirdcest #oh also blood drinking #<<thought process was that sam just does it bcuz it’s fun and that he enjoys the thought of dean’s blood inside him

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spntism · 4 months

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It was an established fact in Dean Winchester’s life that nobody actually cared about him except for his brother. His father cared only about what Dean could do for him. The counselors at windblown schools didn’t care about him, they just saw a kid who attended school for a few weeks here and there and never left a forwarding address as a problem to be solved. Sticking their mandated reporter noses into every fucked up kid who seemed slightly off.

Dean knew this but it still hurt. Hurt like knees digging into dirty concrete for hours at a time, clutching wrinkled bills and hoping. Hoping that maybe - just maybe - this was enough for food for the rest of the week or until his father came back, handfuls of bills saying what his words never would. I’m sorry I didn’t stay, I’m sorry I left you on your own. I’m sorry you’re having to do two parents jobs without having any for yourself.

How does a boy become a father, a boy become a man at four years old? Messily. Growing pains ripping him apart. Fights with Sam over anything and everything, resentment always bubbling under the surface. But even with that, always clutching Sam close and promising to protect him from both the world and John Winchester’s rage. Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t, right? Better the brother who loves you than the father who resents you.

Brotherhood is a bond that can’t be easily broken. Except maybe by your brother choosing something other than you under your nose. And on one hand he’s proud of the kid for wanting better than credit card scams, and hustling pool, knowing the shittiest motels in the most forgettable towns intimately and never having a fixed address. But on the other hand now Sam’s leaving Dean to deal with the roving hurricane that is John Winchester all on his own. And Dean knows that he’s a grown-ass man and shouldn’t rely on his baby brother for things like this. But Sam was always the best at cracking a joke that wasn’t really a joke, and taking the edge off the situations where the tension cut like a well tended blade.

What was Dean without Sam? Dean hadn’t been without Sam since before he was a four year old bawling over his mother’s death without even a picture to remember her by, the only tangible evidence she’d existed in his arms and green eyes in the mirror. Dean without Sam was somehow more himself than he had ever been, but less than he had ever thought he would have to be.

Dean coped the way he always did. Copious amounts of alcohol, the first girl he saw at a bar, rinse and repeat. Except this time, it didn’t work so well and left him with a bad taste in his mouth.

So he did the next best thing. He found something that needed killing, didn’t sleep for a week, and made sure that fucker was dead. And then he did it again.

#ficlet #can’t tell if this is finished or not #this could be a case fic in the making idk #my words #dean #dean pov #sawyerposting #spn #supernatural #supernatural fic #dean fic #spn fic

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prosopopeya · 2 years

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Drabble Day 4: Memories

Prompt from @deancaskiss 's drabble challenge.

Dean's a good bed sharer; he's used to staying crammed on his side. Cas is a rough sleeper, and sometimes Dean gets woken up with an elbow in his face. (Which is probably why they keep rotating out who gets stuck with Cas.)

He wakes up when the bed shakes as Cas rolls around; a few seconds later, he rolls over again, the bed squeaking. Cas's breath hits him in the back of the neck when he sighs, loud and frustrated.

"You got problems?" Dean asks. Behind him, he can hear Cas regret waking him up.

"Sorry."

He glances over his shoulder to see Cas, framed in the moonlight sneaking in through the gap in the curtains. Insomnia's not new for Cas--well, not for human!Cas. He looks apologetic for it, dropping his eyes to the bed.

Dean shifts over, and Cas lifts his arm so he can rearrange the blankets, and then they're facing each other. Their body heat creates this warm space in the bed between them, but Dean's face is just outside of it, where the overly cool air of the motel's AC almost stings.

"It's my--my thoughts. I can't get them to stop."

Dean knows what that's like. Knows there isn't much anyone can say. Still, he tries to think of something, until he lands on a memory and huffs. "Too bad I can't help you the way you helped me."

And then Dean--3-AM-not-thinking-things-through!Dean--reaches out and lightly touches Cas's forehead, a parody of Cas touching him, of Cas helping him to sleep. Dean's fingers linger longer than is probably wise, until he pulls his hand away, something anticlimactic about it.

"You help," Cas says, then turns his eyes, pale blue in the dim light, up to Dean's.

virginia is for lovers: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14

#dreamydrabble #dreamydrabbles #profoundnet #deancasfic #destielfic #dean pov #supernatural #a more profound bond #my fic #still not a drabble but it IS. becoming a series.

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hebrokein30 · 2 years

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when sammy is two - and you remember the number correctly for it's when he is always yelling and your ears start ringing faintly when you go to bed at night and you wonder how anyone can be so upset all the time - when it is the coldest winter you ever remember living through. so cold, that streets have turned into an angry, frozen river and the motel rooms are as chilling as if haunted by a thousand ghosts. it's when sammy is two and the motels are haunted, that dad buys sam a pompom hat made out of real wool by an elderly lady downtown, who took pity on the lost looking family of three with the unhappy child and left it to dad almost for free. it is all white, like snow, and the earpieces are elongated to use as a scarf, so long that they wrap around sammy's delicate baby neck three times. he looks a bit as if he's always having tooth pain and at fist you think he's gonna reject it, like he rejects when you try to wash his hair at night or dad's get-well-soup. but he loves it, and soon you cannot imagine the hat without the little upturned nose underneath and the wide green eyes trying to see through the thing when it has fallen into his face. and when he jumps into your bed at night, the hat still firmly in place, the little pompom bounces around excitingly, like a rabbits tail and you cannot help but grin and prod little sammy's nose and listen to him protest because of it and draw him down into your arms, for the room is haunted and he is warm and the pompom scratches your nose the whole night through.

when sammy is eighteen - and you remember the exact number, because sam has been brooding for over a year and, lying next to him, you can hear him brooding even in sleep and you wonder how anyone can be brooding all the time and with such an intensity - there is a thunderstorm looming in the sweltering summers air, growling like a preying monster. and it is when the monster is preying that you stand outside of the house dad rented for the summer and you watch your little brother shoulder his bag and walk away into the night, and there is something in your chest but you can't get it out because breathing hurts so much. you watch those long legs walk away from you and you glitch, and you see a white hat made out of real wool by an elderly lady downtown, and a little upturned nose underneath, and your little boy turns around and runs at you, trusting you'd catch him, and the little pompom bounces excitingly, like a rabbit's tail. you glitch again, and the monster is growling and the little boy is walking away and does not turn back.

when sammy is twenty-five - and you know the year exactly, for you have been dead in hell and lived only with him - there is a war raging that is not yours but you're gonna pay the prize anyway. and it's when the war is raging that sammy stands before the opening ground, arms outstretched, and you glitch, and you see a white hat made out of real wool, and sammy is lying in the snow, arms outstretched, little upturned nose pointing towards the sky. you cannot distinguish the hat from the snow but sammy is laughing when he's been crying so much lately, so you let yourself fall into the snow and teach him how to make angels, sammy, look, just like an angel's wings. you glitch again and sammy stretches his arms like an angel's wings and the angel inside him must be howling with rage, but he says its okay, dean, look, i got him. so you look, and see his little upturned nose pointed towards the sky as he falls into the earth and the earth closes above him and the war that was not yours is over and you don't wonder how that can be, for before there was a little boy with a pompom hat - and now there is nothing.

#when i'm feeling inspired #my writing #sam and dean #gencest #you can read it as #wincest #too if you want #dean pov

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sluggmuffin · 8 months

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HI IM BACK!!

okay so i have a poly dean and fulton thoight 😇

i think them tryinf to confess to someone who’s oblivious woukd be rlly funny cause they’re giving the most obvious hints ever and they still aren’t getting it until someone actually tells them

Literally like they would be eachothers hypemen and then when u don't get it they'd just flat put tell u and ur like "wtf I would have never guessed" and deans like "what do u think I meant when I said I want to date someone like u" while fulton tries to contain his lsughter

#fulton reed #dean pov #marlee 🦖#slugs replies!

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dessertbird · 7 months

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Daily Destiel 💙💚

Saying goodbye. 🥺😭💔

#Destiel #deancas #destiel is canon #their love is real #lost and found #saying goodbye #dean pov #sam #jack #widower arc #😭😭💔💔

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cascigarette · 2 years

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flames & ashes

for November 5th

destiel ~600 words

He had lost almost everything in the fire.

Almost everything.

He still had Sam. Until Sam left for college, he always had Sam. He always could count on getting a pat on the back when he protected him, when he fed him, when he looked out for him. And then Sam had left. Then Dad.

He lost everything in the fire.

The fire that was neon lights in shitty bars, flickering overheads in men’s bathrooms, on his knees until they ached and then limped away with a fifty in his back pocket. The fire that was chugging burning bourbon until he passed out in the backseat of his father’s car all alone, waking up to the bright sun to drive more and drink more and fuck more and hunt more.

He lost Dad to the fire.

Well to be fair, he lost Dad to the first fire, 23 years ago. There was something simultaneously damning and freeing to losing Dad to the fire that he built on that tall pyre. No more mirror to look into to tell him he was doing something right for once.

He couldn’t make a fire for Sam.

No, that was one thing he could never give to the fire. He bled for that kid and always would, he couldn’t collect his ashes and spread them out, he couldn’t watch his body fade and flicker away into nothing. He couldn’t smell Sam’s burning flesh. Just couldn’t. So he went to the crossroads and made a deal. To burn forever so Sam wouldn’t have to.

Sam went to Hell anyway.

There was a time where the fire burnt him away to nothing, just a monster with black eyes and a seething soul. He had meant it when he said he liked the disease. It was pure, it was freeing. It was no more being scared of the flame. He was the flame now, and he was going to burn everything in his wake. Nothing would hurt ever again.

Of course it didn’t last.

…

The fire took and took and took.

The fire bellowed hot and long into the night sky. He had lost too much to count, but this… this was the final blow. He never thought he would lose him. Not him. He was supernovas and sunlight. He was ethereal grace, larger than life. He was forever; even when he seemed lost, he always came back. He always came back.

Now his body, his vessel, was floating up towards the stars. He built the pyre all by himself, refused to let Sam help. He wrapped him in a curtain and tied him with yellow ribbon and carried him by himself. He lit the fire with his lighter by himself. He watched the flames engulf him, feeling so fucking alone.

Cas was burning. He was burning like everything else in his life had burnt. He would never see him again.

…

This time the fire was thick black goo.

He wasn't used to this. He wasn't used to the fire tricking him.

"Why does this sound like a goodbye?"

"Because it is."

Oh God. No, not God. Something bigger, something more terrible and obsolete. He was losing him. He was losing him all over again.

"Something I could never have."

"I love you."

You dumbass. You son of a bitch. Of course you had it, you always had it, I just needed to get my head out of my ass. And I wish I had said it back. I wish I had said it back.

"I love you too."

He was gone.

He lost everything to the fire.

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aishitara · 6 months

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PB 100 Prompt Fill - Brush

Dean fell off a horse, once.

What he was doing on it in the first place was irrelevant. The point was: hitting the ground like that had knocked the breath out of him so bad Dean could’a swore he’d been kicked in the throat.

It’s nothing compared to the beating his heart takes when he touches the fan of Cas’ eyelashes with the tips of his fingers, the barest tender brush against skin.

“You’re here,” Dean whispers, a tear spilling down his cheek. “You’re back.”

Tears leak from Cas’ smiling eyes, too. “So I am,” he says with a laugh.

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bloodydeanwinchester · 4 months

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DESTIEL IN EVERY EPISODE → 5x04 the end

dean immediately clocking 2014!dean's jealousy like "what could this mean???"

#this is another episode where there were sooooo many scenes i could have chosen from!#but like...this scene is dean perceiving destiel for the first time from an outsiders pov!! and BOY is there something to see there or what #also yes i know they changed it to say like instead of love but also i dont care<3 #destieleveryepisode #spn 5x04 #destieledit #spnedit #cowboycoven #spn #destiel #dean winchester #castiel #altarofrowena

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