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disasterpenguin · 20 days

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@angelkissesdean gave me permission to be a little bit unhinged and wants to hear about my 16 plot for spn

So in my version of supernatural s16 it's going to involve Claire a little bit more than spn ever has before (because i love her and they can try to take my funky lil lesbian from my cold dead hands)

Claire helps Sam bring Dean back, and then informs them that she has a plan to bring back Cas since she has some of his grace and somehow she and Sam fuck up the spell and get thrown back in time and instead of trying to figure out how to get back home right away she convinces Sam to stay so they can both learn to be MOL and have better ingredients for spell work

A few months go by for Sam & Clair (in the span of just a few episodes, maybe like 3 or 4?) and they learn that since Claire was Cas's vessel for such a short period of time that she doesn’t actually have enough grace to trick the Empty into thinking a vail of the Grace to replace Cas but Sam remembers that Cas had another vessel about 100 years ago and they go time hopping again which catches the attention of Jack, who is informed of Claire's plan to bring Cas back & says he'll help if he can but he doesn’t wanna interfere too much ((Dean is just stress cleaning in the future, for him it's only been a few hours, Jack pops up to tell Dean what's going on and to hangout because he misses his dad and he has to tell Dean how cool he thinks Claire is)) once Sam and Claire get back with a vail of Grace they have to figure out how to get into the Empty, Jack informs them it would be easier if they had Death to open a portal

An argument breaks out about summoning a reaper just to kill them and "haven't they done enough fucking around with the cosmos" before Claire has enough and sneaks away (Jack follows) and she summons a reaper and informs them about how if they die they'll become the next Death and the reaper agrees because "it's difficult job without a boss and Jesus please just do it and I'll open that portal free of charge for a full 24 hours when you're ready" and bada bing bada boom they have a deal and Claire goes back to tell Sam and Dean and then has to deal with their disappointed dad & uncle faces

Claire and Sam make a tracking spell/potion/ compass thing that'll lead someone to Cas's body in the Empty they just need to decide who's going and Dean declares it's going to be him or no-ones going at all, he was already dead so if he gets caught it's not like anyone will lose something that wasn't already lost, Claire's too young, Jack is god, Eileen is pregnant (because obviously she and Sam are endgame 😤😤) and Dean just "has to be the one to do this, he couldn't save Cas before but he has a chance to try now" and Claire calls the new death who opens the portal for Dean and says "you have 24 hours before the portal closes for good so make it snappy"

Dean steps through the portal and is wearing the Grace vail compass that'll lead him to cas (it gets brighter the closer to Cas he gets) and it's a few hours before he finds him and now he has to figure a way to wake Cas up, so he sits down and puts Cas's head in his lap & starts to pray to him, about how he's sorry he couldn't save him, how he regrets that he couldn't speak to Cas once he realized Cas was planning on sacrificing himself- how he felt like he couldn't breathe, how much he missed him and hearing the words "I'll watch over you" & the Grace compass starts to heat up and Dean takes it off only to realize Cas has opened his eyes and is looking at Dean in pure wonder and they just stare intensely into each others eyes before the Empty starts to shake because "why is this bitch awake again" and Dean is like "Cas we gotta go we can talk about this once we're back home but we gotta go now" and Dean grabs Cas's hand and they start running (leaving behind the Grace and Dean hopes that that'll be enough to trick the Empty) and they get back with time to spare and Jack shuts the portal and everyone gets a hug because "holy shit it worked! We did it"

Once everyone is done having celebratory hugs, instead of talking about their feelings Dean grabs Cas's face and kisses him and says "i love you never fucking do that to me again i mean it Cas you can't keep doing this to me, if this didn’t work I don't know what I would've done" and Sam who's been expecting this for fucking ages goes "you would've stayed in the empty." And they invite everyone over for a back from the dead party and Sam & Cas & Dean & Claire start up the Men of Letters and start creating a better network for all the new & old hunters and everyone gets their happily ever after

((Ps idk how to get Crowley back but like. I'll figure that out eventually))

#I'm so sorry that took over an hour to get out but we went to dinner 😭#supernatural #spn #season 16 HC

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sweetcitrusboi · 1 year

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I was suppose to post this a few days ago while Jib was happening but I forgot to post so I’m doing it anyways because brainrot is still going strong,,,

With everything that happened at Jibcon, I have so much shit too ‘ramble on’ about

((yes it was intended)).

First off Jensen’s fcking energy at this con is so awesome I love it so much. Like he seems really really happy and relaxed. His panel with Misha looks so fun and they were putting the most energy out there. And y’all something has to be in the Jibcon air because the things Jensen has openly been saying has me thinkingggg.

And when I start thinking, I’m going to have a lot too talk about. All good things ofc I’m only speaking on things I observed from post. Praying I actually go to a con soon,,, But their lovey dovey behavior was so out there, I don’t think it matters whether you went to Jib or not, you can clearly see it. Like Misha sitting on the stage floor looking up at Jensen so reverently while he’s singing has had me clutching my chest every time I look at that picture. They seem really really reallllyyy relaxed. And I’m so happy for them.

And then this man, fcking Jensen has them both singing a destiel inspired song on stage while laughing and looking at each other and idk wtf to say honestly. Like idk if it’s the constant wheel shots they’re taking but they just are so happy.

Like Jensen has always been the most comfortable on Jenmish panels something I’ve noticed for a while now because he acts totally different on J2 panels and solo panels because different crowds and I just think he’s uncomfortable. J*red constantly talks over his questions and we know what type of people are in the j2 crowd unfortunately. On solo panels he just looks scrambled and is semi relaxed but answers questions silly. And Jenmish panels he’s always the most relaxed. Misha lets him talk for his own questions and they play around and they just simply enjoy themselves, and he always seemed more open too talking about destiel, and Dean as a character on Jenmish panels. But this con, they just seem very open.

The way he was acting this con, I wouldn’t be surprised if this man drops the tapes soon. He just kept dropping hints this whole con. From the way he talked about destiel, and Dean, and how he feels about the show. I honestly think he was going all out as a personal fuck you to J*red’s really shitty take on Dean’s death. Idk why tf that man keeps answering questions about Dean or destiel but for someone who “read the script as a book” he seriously doesn’t understand his co-stars character. Y’all can complain about Jensen not watching episodes all you want but at least he knows what he wants for Dean.

Like seriously wtf is this take ??

I already need to say this now but dni if you’re a “the finale was good “ truther I don’t want to hear it.

^Seriously please stop giving this man destiel/Dean questions. I’m not saying the actors can’t answer questions about other characters but after his last fuck up, when he compared gay relationships to incest I thought y’all would have learned your lessons by now???

Anyways—

Speaking of takes, Jensen’s lil destiel conversations has got me thinking. And I wanna talk about this in another post but I think he’s doing something behind scenes involving destiel because he just seemed so happy about breaking down their dynamic and bringing up the confession scene

I’m happy for him, honestly. It took him a long time to get comfortable when answering questions about destiel and I don’t blame him. The fandom can be very demanding and some of y’all deliberately went out of y’all’s way to harass and accuse this man of being homophobic multiple times. So him swerving questions made a lot sense to me. Even though his love for Dean and Cas has shown a lot through the years. I’m just so glad that he’s comfortable now and he wants to talk more openly with us.

I have so much more to talk about but I feel I should start breaking some of it up honestly. I don’t often do discussions like this on tumblr, I keep a large part of them to myself or usually when someone speaks to me about it, or I see a particularly terrible fcking take and I have to read somebody down about it.

But I’m getting more active on tumblr and I wanted to do my own breakdown of spn which I wanted to do before posting this but the stuff happened at Jib put that on hold because I had to brainrot, but I’ll get back to it. I’m mostly doing all this for fun.

But this was it, I just wanted to brainrot bc it’s been in my brain for almost a week and I should have gushed about them way sooner. Now on to watching con vids on YouTube bc I have to precariously live through other fans *sobs* . I will be at a con one day tho!!

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hells-plaid-angel · 2 years

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An existential crisis counts as a prayer. Dean learnt this in the most inconvenient way possible.

It was just him, Baby and the highway. Sam had decided to run a case with Eileen and Dean was getting restless, so he had to chase some ghosts of his own. Cas was doing whatever the hell he did when he wasn’t with the brothers. Something to do with Heaven, other angels, and the end of the world. Regular Tuesday stuff, in their lives.

The thing was Dean was alone. Him and the highway. Another lone hunt. If not for the ache in his bones from the long drive, he’d say he was twenty-six again. The highway and in theory, the whole world, resided just outside the Impala’s windows. In theory, he could go anywhere. He could do anything. Yet, he was on a hunt, wishing to be anywhere else, with anyone else besides himself. It was history repeating itself. He wondered if he lived another ten years if he’d find himself alone on another highway. Sam and Eileen were getting cosy. Dean was happy for them. He was, but he was also having to face the fact that he might end up being alone, again.

There was always Cas. The angel operated like a summer storm. He appeared from nowhere. His visits were always fleeting. A storm was a natural occurrence, there was no end to storms, but you couldn’t set your watch to them. There were always droughts. You couldn’t count on a storm to hang around. Dean could count on having Cas around some of the time, but not always.

He let the wheel drift and felt the car roll onto the rumble strip of the road. He hoped it’d shake some sense into him, shake the thoughts loose. It was easier with other people around, they distracted him. The wheel jerked from Dean’s hand, veering the car back into the centre of his lane. Dean blinked down and saw a hand hovering over the steering wheel.

“Dean,” Cas breathed in lieu of his normal ‘Hello, Dean’. His voice sounded thin. At first, he thought Cas was irritated, but when he got a better look at the man, bathed in the glow of the intermittent highway lights, he realised Cas was worried.

“What happened?” Dean asked, ready to hear how their latest endeavour to stop the apocalypse had gone down in flames.

“I was about to ask you the same thing,” Cas confessed.

“I thought you were in danger. I felt... odd,” The angel elaborated.

Dean wasn’t an idiot, it didn’t take him too long to put two and two together. He’d been thinking about Cas, wishing Cas was there. He guessed that was as good a prayer as any. He wasn’t about to confess that though.

“Maybe your angel radio has its wires crossed,” He reasoned. Cas gave him a look, to let Dean know he didn’t think that was the case, but thankfully he didn’t argue. If anyone asked Dean about their ‘profound bond’ he would call it bullshit, but at times like this, he wondered if there could be a bit of truth to it.

Instead, Cas asked where Sam was and then about the case. He gave Dean an update on what had happened on his end since the two last spoke. He didn’t seem in a hurry to leave. Dean hoped Cas still couldn’t feel him ‘praying’ because no matter how hard he tried to stop his brain from begging Cas to stay, it all went the way of the ‘don’t think about pink elephants’ thing. All he wanted Cas to do was stay. Dean lost track of how their conversation got there but he found himself speaking,

“Cas, you ever think people like us could learn to stay in one place... settle down?”

If Cas was a summer storm, Dean was a fish in a river. He was always drifting through life. He could go with the flow of the water or he could fight his way upstream. Either way, he’d be in the same damn river. There was a world outside the water, of course, but in that world of stillness, Dean couldn’t breathe. Storms come to rivers. Rivers don’t come to storms. Dean didn’t know how to vocalise any of this. Even if he could, he wouldn’t.

“Probably not,” Cas admitted pragmatically, suddenly refusing to look at Dean.

“But I believe, perhaps ‘people like us’ could learn to be unsettled, together.”

Dean had heard enough stories, praised both as signs of God, meddling of the occult and freak incidences, easily explained away by science about times where the sky rained fish. Maybe that was what he and Cas were, a freak incident that might just work.

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untamedlobo · 11 months

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Heeled boots clicked on the concrete floor as Meg walked around the chair she had Peter chained to. Silver bindings digging into his flesh. Even one around his neck, just for insurance, so to speak.

"Not ao tough without Clarence around to be your guardian angel, are you?" She hummed.

Peter hissed in pain as the chains burned against his flesh trying to keep still to lessen their sting . The one around his neck keeping him from transforming less he burn his neck more it was already going to scar as it is.

He Glared at Meg as she came in, baring his fangs a deep growl rumbling in his throat , “Fuck you bitch.. “ he spat, fingers itching to claw into her pretty little face . “What the hell do you want?!” .

Silently he prayed for cas for Dean or Sam for anyone to hear him.. he wasn’t too confident he could survive this encounter .

@waywardfreewill

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huggybearsunshine · 2 years

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Fewer Things

[Prequel to The Few Things]

“The one thing I want, it’s something I know I can’t have…”

It played on repeat in his mind.

“Thing I want, It’s something I know I can’t have…”

Again and again.

“Something I know I can’t have…”

“Dean?” he looked up from his untouched meal to find Sam and his sad eyes again, “Please just… say something,” the younger brother implored, but Dean simply stared.

“I can’t have.”

Yet the meal remained quiet, as every meal had since that day, and as every in between meals had been.

Sam hadn’t heard his brother speak a single word, in fact.

The only sound from him at all being a faint sobbing through his door at night when Sam would pass by.

Sam had never felt so alone. Losing Cas, Jack, and what felt like Dean as well was really starting to weigh heavily on the hunter. So, when Eileen came through the door and descended the stairs into his arms, it was like a gift from, well, Jack.

“How are you?” she signed as she spoke and the sadness in his eyes made her embrace him again, “Still nothing?”

He shook his head against hers so she would feel it and her grip tightened.

Sam pulled back but held her arms to let her know he needed her close, “I don’t know what to do… I feel so…” he signed the word ‘useless’ and the dejection on his face was obvious.

Eileen’s hand came up to hit him in the chest, catching his eye and signing ‘you are not useless.’

“I’ll talk to him,” she added, pulling him down to kiss him quickly.

“The one thing I want, it’s something I know I can’t have…”

Dean’s hand was placed on his bedside table as he stabbed in between his fingers with his demon blade, slow and steady.

“The one thing I want…”

His jabs quickened as the Angel’s voice repeated those words within his mind.

“I know I can’t have…”

He stabbed the blade angrily into the table further away from his hand and buried his face into the barricade of limbs encasing him.

A raw growl escaped his body and he couldn’t hold back tears as the words continued relentlessly.

“The one thing I want… it’s something I know I can’t have.”

A knock pulled his eyes up, filled with disdain now rather than despair, but when a different voice called out than he expected to hear, Dean was on his feet and prying open the door.

“Dean,” she pushed into his arms, and he was slow but purposeful in his responding grip, “I’m so sorry.”

He shook his head as if it hurt to hear it, and the smaller hunter pulled back to look at him.

“I brought really good whiskey.”

Dean looked down at her like she was a lifeline before pulling her back in and placing a kiss to her temple.

They drank in his room, Sam shyly finding his way into the space when Eileen didn’t return, and things seemed lighter for a bit until he caught Dean’s wandering. Watched him get stuck there, lost in whatever was running through his mind. Sam had been able to see it but he couldn’t make sense of it.

Whatever happened to Cas was still very much stuck inside Dean, tearing him apart and wearing his skin as a costume. Dean was far away and his body was just moving. Existing in the most basic way possible.

The couple eventually needed sleep, and Eileen touched Dean’s shoulder as they left- unsure if he even noticed until she was releasing. He grabbed her hand, squeezing it and giving her a grateful, albeit hollow, look before she nodded and he let her go. Let her leave.

Until he was alone again. And with nothing to drown out the words in his mind, he placed the headphones over his ears, leaned back in bed, and prayed for sleep- no, not prayed.

Dean didn’t pray anymore.

As time went on, the shadow of Dean would roam the halls at night when he thought everyone was asleep. Sam would hear him heading toward the same room. He thinks that’s where it must have happened. Whatever it was that happened to Cas.

Then one day, Dean was gone. For a week he vanished without a trace until the day the door clanged open and he sunk into the closest chair he could find. Sam and Eileen ran up to him, checking his dissociative shell for injuries he wouldn’t have cared about if he even noticed.

But then he spoke. Four words.

“He’s in the trunk.”

Sam’s brows dropped deeply in confusion, eyes cutting up the stairs before he touched Eileen’s shoulder and gained her attention.

“Wait here,” he remarked uncertainly.

She didn’t argue as he bound up the stairs toward the garage.

He approached the car cautiously, completely lost for what he’d find. Nothing would have prepared him for what was there.

Chuck was bound and gagged. Silenced like Dean had been, and looking just as scared as he had too.

Not knowing what else to do, Sam pulled the man out, untied his legs, and walked him down the stairs into the bunker.

“Dean, I’m gonna need a bit more explanation, here…” Sam called out as his brother was now in the library searching around until he found what he was looking for.

He balanced the book on one hand as the other skimmed pages.

When they stopped, he dropped the book down with a thud in front of Sam and pointed.

“We’re… summoning that,” Sam surmised and Dean nodded.

“And giving it him,” he explained.

“I know how you see yourself, Dean…”

It was like Cas and his conscience were teaming up against him, and they almost won out. He looked away, unable or unwilling to meet Chuck’s eye, either way.

“I know how you see yourself, Dean…”

Sam waved a hand in front of his face, trying to catch his eye and waiting for an explanation that wasn’t coming.

“I know how you see yourself, Dean…” his eyes shot up as this time the voice saying those words was Chuck’s.

“Don’t,” he warned with a tone that would’ve made anything pause.

“What’s wrong?” he asked in faux innocence, “Was it something I said?”

“I said shut up,” Dean ground out through his teeth.

“Why, Dean?” the malice began to bleed through, “He cared about the whole world because of you… You should be proud. Unless- did you not love him back?” he cringed exaggeratedly, “Does it make you uncomfortable that this whole time, your best friend was in love with you? I mean, talk about a plot twist! I didn’t see that coming.”

Dean grabbed him by the collar in one hand and practically dragged the man down the hall as the room exploded around him with concerned exclaims. Obviously none of it for Chuck’s safety, but there was still concern being flung at him as he reached the dungeon.

“What is it really, Dean?” Chuck continued his assault as he was flung into a chair and Dean began to tape him in, assumably just so it would hurt to take him back out, “Is it that you didn’t love him back… or that you did?”

“I don’t owe you a story here, Chuck,” Dean spoke, eerily calm, and more scathing than rage-filled, “You’re here for one reason and that’s all.”

“Right, I’m your bargaining chip- your get Cas out of jail free card,” he quipped, “You really think that’s going to work? The empty doesn’t take mortals.”

“Billie was going to throw me in, so if it’ll make an exception for me-“ Dean tisked, “I’m thinking it’ll make an exception for you.”

“Just tell me one thing,” he goaded, “What pissed you off more- that he loved you? Or that he left you?”

“I’m not mad at him,” Dean stepped back, “Because this was all you.”

Chuck’s face turned, “Oh no, Dean… Hate to burst your little safety bubble, but this was all Cas. Going off script. In fact, I tried to stop this, but nothing I did could keep you two apart.”

His face shifted, trying to keep the facade up but it was failing him.

“Dean,” Sam tried as his brother pushed past him in the doorway and stormed off.

“Watch him!” his voice cracked as he yelled back, a desperate need for distance from the former God’s revelations.

He found himself in Cas’ room instead of his own, and the coldness and scarcity of it, the lack of life or comfort, made it unbearable.

How did he never notice that Cas felt unloved, unwanted? He didn’t make himself at home because he wasn’t, not really.

Dean couldn’t stand the thought.

He grabbed what of the little there was that he could and began to break it. Throwing, slamming- whatever he had to do.

He just needed it gone. ‘Cause Cas was, and so was he.

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@spuffy-destiel had such a big part in developing this, I kinda feel like it’s both of ours at this point. This wouldn’t be what it is without you. ♥️

@destieliscanon5nov @hotsocke @skylerkernaghan

The Few Things (original) & Fewer Things part 2:

#dean winchester #dean winchester is not okay #dean winchester has issues #grief #grief/mourning #sam winchester #concerned sam winchester #eileen leahy #castiel #destiel #destiel fanfic #destiel fic #the empty #chuck shurley #selectively mute #getting castiel back #the few things #prequel series

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angelfishofthelord · 2 years

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while they are yet speaking

oneshot, set in s5. read on a03 partly inspired by thee midsommar scream scene. characters: cas, dean cw: nail gun used for non construction purposes

And it shall come to pass, that before they call, I will answer; and while they are yet speaking, I will hear. --Isaiah 65:24

Dean wipes the grease off his palms and tosses the rag aside. He can see the sweaty sheen of his jaw curving in the reflection from the Impala’s hood. He flips the socket wrench around before tossing it aside and climbing into the driver’s seat. The upholstery embraces his spine like a second skin. When he slips the key into the slot the engine practically sings hallelujah. It rumbles like a choir of one thousand ange-

It hums like a multitude of ang-

It reverberates like the throat of heavenly an-

He blinks and tries again. Tries to place himself back there: open toolbox at his feet; three p.m. sunlight soaking through the back of his flannel. Dragonflies. New brake pads. The taut rubber tiles swelling with air. The sounds of a screw squeaking as it burrows deeper into its hole. Hiding down in a tunnel where no one can reach. Not even angel-

He flicks his eyelashes up and down again. It’s getting harder to go there. Harder to ignore the fact that he’s pinned to a wall two feet off the ground. Harder to not see Castiel sitting there a few feet away, flanked by blade-wielding angels. Harder to not be reminded that Dean can’t lift a muscle to save him from being cut into by his own siblings.

The angel blade makes a soft, squelching sound as it breaks stomach muscle and tissue.

Castiel sucks in a breath sharply. He tips his chin up, eyes searching the cracks in the corrugated metal roof of the warehouse. His lips part ever so slightly. Foreign-sounding words escape in thin, half shapes of breath.

Dean doesn’t understand them. He doesn’t need to. He knows exactly what a child’s desperate plea to their father sounds like.

Zachariah moves in front of his view like a thundercloud. “Praying? If God wanted to pay you a visit, He’d have answered long ago.” The angel turns his head slightly, eyeing Dean with a hooked grin. “But then again it’s your attitude. I’ve heard that He favors the penitent.”

The angels on either side of Castiel finally step back and Zachariah leans back, hands on his hips, like a teacher proudly surveying the work of his pupils. Dean doesn’t recognize the sigil etched into Castiel’s chest. Neither does Castiel seem to know what it is. There’s confusion mingled in the carefully concealed pain in his eyes. When Zachariah deliberately traces a finger over the broken skin Castiel’s jaw tightens imperceptibly.

“What have you done to me?” he asks hoarsely.

Zachariah lifts his fingers and sniffs the blood crowning his fingertip. “You’ve got yourself so set on saving humanity. I thought it might help you to understand what these jabbering monkeys feel. This is what you’re condemning six billion people to, Castiel.”

Castiel shifts his knees, trying to pull himself into a dignified stance. With two angels still pinning his shoulders to the back of the chair he can’t even straighten himself up fully. Or lean forward far enough to spit in Zachariah’s face. Dean would sell his soul to be able to move right now and bite that smile right off the bastard’s wrinkled face.

“You can’t take my grace.” It sounds much more like a plea than Castiel probably intends it to be. “That has been forbidden for centuries.”

Zachariah laughs. It’s a short, scratchy noise. He paces in the half shadows of the room, towards the abandoned work table that’s behind Castiel. His sallow fingertips graze over the array of half assembled tools. “I don’t think your word on Heaven’s law counts for much these days.” He pauses over the bright orange handle of a nail gun. “But no, I just muted your grace. Wouldn’t want to taint the authenticity of the experience, now would we?”

Castiel tries to crane his head around to see what his superior is doing, but the angels force him to face forward. Castiel doesn’t look at Dean. His attention is fixed on the angel with the outstretched palm who’s keeping Dean in place, as if he can glare at him fiercely enough to disable the iron hold.

It’s not helpful to the current situation, or going to stop his skin from feeling like it’s being stretched right off his skeleton, but Dean somehow finds himself wondering what Castiel is thinking about. Is he imagining himself disassembling these bodies around him, bone by bone? Is he somewhere else, in a star system no human has even named yet, drifting in a field of atomic matter Dean wouldn’t understand even if he drew a diagram to explain it? Where does his mind flee for refuge when the body is under assault?

Dean goes back to Bobby's yard. Weeds brushing against his ankles. Oil sloshing in the plastic jug. The afternoon sun warming the hairs on the back of his neck. The squeak of the hinges as he pops the hood open.

Click-clack-click. His knuckles brush across a palette of brown grime and grease. Click-clack-click. The intake manifold needs to be cleaned. He feels around for the-

Click-clack-click.

He blinks. It’s coming from outside the afternoon sky. Outside the fence of his cranium and the fabrication of Sioux Falls.

Click-clack-click. Zachariah slides the last set of nails into the gun and lets the spring fly back, securing them into place. “Mind you, I don’t actually need to use this. I can hurt you in ways your little human eyes could never even perceive. But I’m feeling dramatic today.” He hefts the orange nail gun over one shoulder and straightens his suit jacket with the other hand. “I want there to be a real visual element here. Especially for our audience today,” he gestures in Dean’s direction.

Castiel doesn’t react. He doesn’t realize what Zachariah is holding.

Not until Zachariah walks over and stands in front of him.

Not until Zachariah pulls a wooden table over with just a flick of his head.

Not until Zachariah says “Put your hand on the table.”

Dean’s eyes fill with tears.

His body reacts before his mind does. Before his thoughts even form the words telling him what’s about to happen. He wants to scream and warn Castiel. He wants to throw his body over the angel and cover every inch of him like a giant tarp that shields you from the coldest and cruelest elements outside.

Castiel looks at Dean.

It feels like being slammed by a wrecking ball into his chest and all his ribs shatter. He’s being suspended and pinned halfway up a wall, paralyzed by angelic force, and it hasn’t come close to torturing him the way Castiel just looked at him. Castiel looks at Dean instinctively, the way you might stare at someone right before they let go of your hand and let you slip below the surface to drown.

Dean wants to close his eyes. An eyelid is just a few inches of skin; it’s not the miles and state lines and concrete walls that he wants to put between himself and now. But somehow right now the act of closing his eyes feels like it’s the biggest decision he’s ever made. It’s the choice between stepping into a portal that will take him far from this world and into one where nobody ever hurts the people he loves.

If he doesn’t see it, it doesn’t happen.

Zachariah doesn’t grab Castiel's arm and slam it onto the table. Doesn’t dip the nail gun down and snap the trigger back.

Castiel doesn’t lurch his entire body to one side, eyes blown wide in agony. Doesn’t try to lift his wrist off the nail embedded through the table.

Blood pours into the patterned wood of the table top. Castiel’s fingers writhe like worms.

Dean makes himself watch. He chooses to stay there. He won’t leave Castiel alone.

“Put your fingers out.” Zachariah says.

A tear slips out from Dean’s eyelids, leaving a thin smear down the length of his cheek.

Castiel curls his fingers tightly into his shaking palm. He shrinks bodily away from his superior. Zachariah snaps his fingers and suddenly Castiel’s fingers are flattened against the table, ramrod straight. Castiel makes an aborted movement with his arm, like he’s trying to pull them back, only to realize he can’t.

Castiel gaze up at Zachariah, his pale lips almost forming the o of a no.

“Why don’t you pray now--” Zachariah tips the nail gun back “--and see if God is listening.”

The next nail goes into Castiel’s thumb, splitting the fingernail in half. The third one is embedded into the second knuckle of the index finger. The fourth lands in the tender web of skin between the middle and forefinger. Spurts of blood burst out from the punctures and start crawling across the table in steady streams.

Castiel hunches his shoulders almost up to his ears. His knees are knocking into each other like pieces of pottery. His lips are clamped shut, even though his chin is wobbling. Blood is starting to ooze out from the thin line of his mouth. Dean worries that he might’ve bitten his own tongue off.

But Castiel refuses to emit a single whimper. He doesn’t spare a glance up at Zachariah. Dean understands what he’s doing, not allowing his torturer any satisfaction in the torment. Sometimes even just reclaiming something as small as your own inhales and exhales infuses you with enough willpower to endure the unspeakable.

The bronze nail heads stick out from Castiel’s fingers like headless flower stems. The white of his fingers stand out between the pour of bright blood. He’s breathing quietly, but so labored that his breath sounds solid. Falling out like rocks. Dean feels like he’s being stoned alive just listening to it.

“You can make this stop.” Zachariah drops the syllables of each word low and heavy. He circles slowly around Castiel, his bald head gleaming like a blade. “Just do what you were made to do. Stop getting ideas above your pay grade.”

Castiel turns away from the direction of his voice.

Zachariah reaches down and snags the angel’s other wrist. He slaps it onto the table and aims the muzzle of the nail gun right at the slope of the wrist bone. “Dean. Say the word.”

Dean’s tongue burns the roof of his mouth. His intestines dissolve inch by inch and then surge up his esophagus in a sickening fountain of bile. He forces himself to keep the mouthful of vomit and consent down.

Castiel flinches before the nail even cracks through his marrow.

Dean watches Castiel’s index fingernail peel off when the nail slides into the soft of the fingertip. Watches the top half of the little finger snap up when a nail thicker than its width stabs into it. Watches the pearly white of the knuckles show through the torn skin. Watches like it’s the only promise he’s ever made.

He’s not leaving Castiel, not even for a second. He’s staying there with him in every writhe and wince. He won’t look away. Not even for the length of a blink. Not even when a roaring wave of searing light engulfs the entire warehouse and he feels his own body hit the ground.

By the time Dean realizes he’s no longer being pinned to the wall by an angel, he’s already staggered halfway across the room towards Castiel. He blinks--affords himself the reprieve of a brief snippet of darkness--and recognizes his brother bent over Castiel. Sam’s mop of dark hair glitters in his watery vision like a curtain of handpicked stars.

There’s blood on Sammy’s fingers. Dean shifts his gaze from side to side and recognizes the banishing sigil on the wall near the entrance. He tastes gratitude and relief in the back of his throat, but only as a background flavor. The forefront is sweat and spit and blood from biting his own gums raw.

He reaches the chair where Castiel is still huddled in. Sam looks up, his brow furrowed.

“He told me to break the sigil”--Sam gestures to the open wounds in Castiel’s shirt “--but I don’t know what to do about the…” His eyes move half an inch. Not a full turn of the head, as if afraid to acknowledge the grisly display on the table.

“Take them out. Please.”

For a second Dean doesn’t register that Castiel is speaking. He’s never heard a voice sound so utterly mutilated before. He moves down into a crouch instinctively, putting himself on eye level with the angel. He reaches out a hand to touch him and then pauses, the skin of his palm hovering but not quite touching the cold sweat painted over Castiel’s cheeks.

“Cas….” Dean murmurs, gently, as if the very timbre of his voice might be too harsh.

Castiel’s chin is dripping in blood. His lower lip is almost chewed through, practically hanging by a thread. His front teeth are wet and red. He doesn’t look at Dean, though. His gaze is still fixed on some point in the distance, like he’s steeling for the next flood of pain.

Dean nods at Sam. His brother understands the wordless instruction and positions his fingers over the first nail.

“Cas. Look at me. Yeah, that’s it.” Castiel twists his head a little further back and makes eye contact with Sam’s ashen expression. “No, no. Don’t watch--” Dean lets his skin sink into Castiel’s as he cups his fingers around the side of his face and guides him back towards him. “Don’t watch it, Cas. That’ll only make it worse.”

He rubs a thumb softly over the tremors in the angel’s jaw. “Look at me. You don’t have to hold it in any more. Just--just scream, okay? It’ll make you feel better.”

It’s not true. It is true that when you’re screaming, you’re distracted from the horrendous squelch of your flesh being ripped apart.

Castiel stares at him, almost fearfully. Like he needs confirmation that he won’t be penalized for the act; that he won’t be taken advantage of for releasing an auditory confession of weakness.

Dean brings his other hand up to the other side of Castiel’s face. He wants to shield him, protect him from what has to happen. He’s never felt more uselessness right now, trying to build a fortress of clammy skin and wildly thumping heartbeats. “I’ll scream with you,” he breathes. “You won’t even hear yourself.”

From the corner of his eye Dean sees Sam’s fingers move. He focuses on Castiel, drinking in every drop of the angel’s terrified expression. He wishes he could drink it all down and take the suffering away. Place it back in his own body where it belongs.

All he can do is drop his jaw and scream.

At first Castiel only emits a low, strangled noise, and Dean can’t tell if that’s all the volume he has or if he’s actually startled by the sound that Dean’s just released. But when Sam pulls the second nail out Castiel bares his teeth and screams a long, crooked howl. He locks eyes with Dean. It feels like his eyes have fingers that are clutching onto his wrists for support. Every subsequent scream is louder; it erupts from a hollow deeper than the one before. Their chests heave and flatten and then rise again in sync. Saliva webs between their teeth and then drips from the edges of their lips. Castiel’s jaw bruises Dean’s palm, he’s leaning so heavily into the cradle of his hands. Their screams become longer, thicker, braided with such density that the sound practically clatters to the ground, kicking up dust in its wake.

Dean only knows that Sam yanked out the last one when Castiel’s elbows jerk back with the sudden release. His mangled hands fall into his lap. His fingers look like strips of bacon, twitching like they’re sizzling on a black stove top.

Sam pants heavily above them, swaying unsteadily from side to side. He gasps something about getting bandages from the car and disappears from Dean’s periphery.

Castiel tips forward, his forehead pushing against Dean’s cheekbone. Dean feels his breath ghost over his shirt collar; the trepidation of a slow inhale dragging across the hairs on the back of his neck.

Then Castiel lifts his chin towards the broken ceiling and screams. The line of his throat is exposed and pale. His bloodshot eyes search the above for a second before he widens his mouth and expands his chest. He screams again and again. Every sound has teeth and sharp nails. Dean feels his bones wincing in response. He folds his arms around Castiel’s shaking shoulders. He joins in the screams, too; as if it would make any difference to God that not just one, but two of His children were crying out for the smallest touch of mercy.

There is nothing so much like God in all the universe as silence. - Meister Eckhart

#my spn fanfic #seraphcastiel #becauseofthebowties #userda #userbon #thisisapaige #feathersforcas #usertabitha #useralison #universalcas #spxcekya #tusergen #greatcometcas #tuserari #offbeattraxx #angelscas #justcastiel #tw torture #spn fanfic

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inthiswhisper · 2 years

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cas: dean.

dean: cas?

cas: you made it.

dean: [relieved] i made it? [after hugging] you okay?

cas: i’m fine. they were after me, not you. i figured it would be safest to give myself up. we were en route [to eve]. i waited until i... saw this. [cas pulls a blossom out of his coat] it got a little smushed. [dean chuckles] once i had the blossom, i fought, caught them off-guard. they fought back. i managed to get away.

dean: you did it. [smiling] you did it, Cas.

cas: well, they're still after me. we should hurry.

dean: okay, cas, i need to say something.

cas: you don't have to say it. i heard your prayer.

—

i need to talk about this because i feel feral.

dean spent [an undisclosed length of time] searching for cas. he booked it to go look for cas, stopped and prayed, and watched time run out as he still searched purgatory to find cas.

and what did cas do — let himself be taken for dean. to protect dean, just like last time. then found the blossom, fought off the monsters, and got away. cas knew the task was important. to save sam and make it up to dean, even when cas was literally being walked to his death.

i can’t think of anything that sums these two up better both separately and together than this.

dean unable to imagine his anger at cas being cas’ last memory of dean. so, dean would give up the smart choice for the heart choice — find cas. forgo the task at hand, even with no way back to earth and sam being tortured by chuck. and then cas — he'd throw himself to the wolves ‘cause he knows it’ll help. cas knows dean would want the blossom — the win. to save sam. but, while true, cas is oblivious again to the fact that cas alive and well is the win for dean. he doesn’t just want cas for what he can do, he wants cas. them being relieved to see the other ‘made it’ after putting themselves at risk, no hope of seeing each other again. god.

and then the last two lines — can’t yet tell what dean would have said, but it’s the fact that dean was prepared to say the truth out loud, to cas’ face, that gets me. dean has struggled to share parts of himself that way. he can look people in the eye and be cold, angry, disappointed. or he spills the truth with a cover — alone in prayer, through a screen, on the phone, his own back turned. but not always both, looking people in the eye and being so vulnerable. yet dean was ready, and he was willing to confess it all right there and then, without looking away from cas.

but cas stopped him, and i have a bittersweet interpretation of cas’ response. sweet in that cas is saying ‘all is forgiven.’ bitter in that dean was ready to open the floodgates, but cas put the brakes on it. and this could be because he heard his prayer, so he heard enough. or ‘cause of the empty, feeling happiness from hearing it. i also think of it as cas not yet ready to confront how he feels about dean the way dean is certain about how he feels for cas. but after the last few years, i think cas finally recognizes it — a shift from repressing for a long time to suppressing. the way dean was once raw in prayer but not in person, cas can likely only take it in prayer right now, not in person. he’ll tell his family what they mean to him, but dean specifically… don’t think cas has it in him yet to both hear dean’s truth and share his own truth (although it’s coming).

which is why it feels like, to me, dean would’ve said it first. he was close to confessing. hell, the prayer was a confession. what’s more indicative of his growth than a guy who typically speaks through actions finally speaking through words. no hesitation, no deflection. almost losing cas, the last emotion cas felt from dean almost being his anger instead of his love... that was unbearable. dean was ready to lay it out. i think cas just needs more time to meet him there.

#i don't know if this makes sense i'm overwhelmed #destiel #supernatural #spn liveblog #15x09

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mcavoy-girl · 1 year

Text

Let me to him

"I can't let you there, miss Y/L/N"

You struggle against the nurse holding you, trying to keep you out of the surgery room.

You manage to get through and go see him.

Dean's lying on the table, bloody and bruised.

Your hand shoots up to cover your mouth. Someone puts their hand on your shoulder, turning you away from the scene. It's Castiel.

You sob into his chest, he hugs you tighter. Cas keeps looking at Dean, praying that he makes it. War can be brutal.

*couple of hours later*

The doctor emerges from the surgery room, coming to you and Cas.

"Is he okay?"

"He'll be, but we couldn't manage to save his leg"

You once again cover your mouth with your hand, letting out a strangled sob.

"Can we see him?"

"Yes, of course, Mr. Novak"

Cas grabs your hand and gently guides you to Dean's room. You go in, tears flowing freely.

You walk to him, taking a hold of his hand. The doctor is speaking with Castiel. But you don't hear it, you're only focused on Dean lying in front of you. You put your head down, soon falling asleep on Dean. Couple of hours later, you wake up to someone petting your head. You raise your head up, looking into those apple green eyes.

"Hi,sweetheart"

You look at him, suddenly wrapping your arms around his neck, he wraps his bandaged arms around your waist. He assures you that he'll be okay. You pull back, looking down at his missing leg. He smiles, a smile full of mixed emotions. Mostly sorrow.

"I'm sorry"

"No need to be, it's not your fault"

You don't know what to say to that, so you just nod. Someone knocks on the door. Dean hollers them to come in.

Sam steps in the room, holding a bouquet of flowers. He walks closer, putting the flowers on the side table.

"Hi, Dean"

"Sammy"

He gestures to him to come over, pulling him in a hug. Camera zooming out of the trio, going out on the hallway in front of Dean's room. Then the camera moves out of the hospital, focusing on the hustle and bustle outside and most importantly on Dean's beloved Impala.

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #supernatural

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thisisapaige · 2 years

Text

Castiel loves Dean.

He knows this to be true.

The drill whirs.

Castiel loves—

Who?

⁂

The facsimile comes toward him, green eyes vacant. The figure is familiar. Something stirs in Castiel's chest. He tightens his grip on the blade in his hand.

The shape speaks, "Cas," and he becomes a person, becomes Dean.

Castiel drops the blade.

⁂

The drill whirs.

But Castiel loves. Castiel loves. He knows this to be true.

But who?

⁂

This fifteenth facsimile has more light in his eyes, the smirk on his lips familiar, his walk bowlegged and beloved. Castiel does not defend himself when the clone of Dean rushes at him.

He falls to his knees instead.

⁂

The drill whirs.

Castiel screams.

But he still loves. He still loves. It is who he is; no one can take that from him.

⁂

Number fifty-two does not attack right away. Instead, he says terrible things. "You’re nothing to me."

Castiel nicks Dean on the cheek before he remembers.

⁂

The drill whirs.

And Castiel—

Castiel—

⁂

The one hundred and sixty-sixth clone begs, declares his love, face bloody broken and bruised. Oh, God. Castiel hurt him. Castiel did that to him.

Castiel's knuckles are stained with red when he reaches out, holds Dean’s face between his hands.

It hurts when Dean stabs Castiel with the dagger hidden in his fist.

⁂

The drill whirs.

Castiel knows the truth.

He...

⁂

Three hundred kisses Castiel before he falls. Four hundred and fifty-seven cuts Castiel from chest to navel when he falters. Six hundred and three shots him right away. One thousand and twelve begs for mercy as Castiel brings down his blade, his eyes hot with unshed tears. Two thousand and twenty fights him for an hour before Castiel prevails. Three thousand never says a word. Three thousand and forty-five calls him darling. Four thousand and five hundred grabs him by the coat, leaving two bloody smears on the lapels as the life drains from his body.

But still, Castiel hesitates. He hesitates because...

⁂

The drill whirs.

⁂

It takes ten thousand copies, but Castiel no longer hesitates. Dean begs, Dean cries, Dean declares love and it no longer stops Castiel.

Thousands upon thousands of Dean clones lay across the floor, each dead by Castiel’s hand.

It is done. He is fixed.

He is ready.

⁂

"I need you."

Dean looks up at Castiel, hand weakly clutching his wrist, face broken and bloody, lips split and swollen.

Castiel looks down at Dean, who is on his knees as if praying, and knows this is different. This is different. This is different because this is Dean, the real Dean and not some recreation of heaven.

Heaven may have created the figure of Dean thousands of times, but they could never capture his defiance, his fire, his light.

And Castiel— Castiel, he—

There is a snap deep within his being, and Castiel feels the chains of heaven release. He hears a holy scream and then he is free. He is free.

Castiel reaches out, cups Dean’s cheek, heals him. Castiel tells him everything.

"What broke the connection?" Dean asks.

Castiel stares at the tablet in his hand. He thinks.

Because he—

There is something. There is a reason. Castiel knows it to be true.

Because...

The phantom sound of a drill whirs in Castiel’s mind.

"I don't know," Castiel replies.

#deancas #destiel ficlet #spncreatorsdaily #creativecaviar #destiel #destiel fic #angst #memory loss #spn 8x17 #did anyone order some paiiiin #it's not actually that long i just used a lot of line breaks for ~effect~#yes i know the concept has been done before. not by me tho!#enjoy!#writing paige

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deanskitchen · 2 years

Text

but what if. in the prayer scene. what if while speaking his apology out loud dean was also praying his thoughts? i love you i love you please forgive me i love you i need you i love you come back to me i love you... and then he reunites with cas and cas tells him that dean doesn't need to say anything because he heard dean's prayer. and so it goes. cas' heart aches in knowing he can't say he knows for fear of the empty taking him. dean's heart aches in not knowing whether cas just didn't hear him or if he heard him and turned him down. they make amends. they go home as they were, as they always have been, happy to have what they have. but still wanting. always wanting.

#purgatory studies #oooh the ANGST

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tootiredmotel · 3 years

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spoiler alert: she keeps it

A coda fic of my beloved 10x20 "Angel Heart" bc Cas and Claire are my everything, for @emeraldcas 's celebration!

Prompt: meaningful moments

1.2k words – read on ao3 or below

First, it's a matter of where.

Dean says that the mall is a safe bet, and he’s probably right. It has options, a wide array of stores with near endless possibilities, so Cas asks him for a ride to the nearest one.

As Dean pulls into the parking lot, he asks "You really think you'll finally win her over like this?"

"I'm not trying to "win her over", Dean." Cas air quotes. "It's her birthday. A present is customary, isn't it?"

It's not a rhetorical question, and Dean seems to understand that after studying Cas's gaze on him.

"Yeah. Yeah it is, buddy."

Once inside, the number of options becomes overwhelming rather than comforting. Hundreds of people bustle about, bumping into them with reckless abandon. Cas pauses a few steps from the entrance, breathing heavily and looking every which way, trying to figure out where to begin and coming up blank.

He’s never been to a mall before.

Dean, staring daggers at the back of someone who almost trampled them, puts a hand on Cas’s back. “C’mon. Let’s try this way,” he says, leading him down the hall to their right.

They walk for a while. Cas quietly studies every store they pass, while Dean speaks up every two minutes with a new idea. Tech store? A new phone. Clothing store? A jacket, hers is looking a bit worn. Shoe store? Do you know her size? We can get her some boots or something.

“Dean,” Cas finally says, stopping in his tracks and grabbing Dean’s arm. He's grateful for the ride, and he's grateful for Dean’s suggestions. Really, he is. “Thank you, but… This is my gift to her. I need to choose on my own.”

Dean starts doing that adorable thing where he can’t decide if he wants to shake his head or nod. “Uh, yeah, no. No problem, angel. You got this. I’ll shut up.”

Right now, Cas is less focused on the gift itself and more on finding a store that feels fitting, one that Claire might pick out on her own. He puts his hands in his pockets and scans the stores in sight. Further down the hall, one storefront stands out. The walls are black, the windows dimly lit, and the sign is made of backlit block letters. It feels… edgy. She’d like it.

“There.” Cas nods toward it. “The Hot Topical.”

The other thing is the matter of what.

Luckily, the Hot Topical seems to have a bit of everything. Dean sets off on his own soon after walking in, saying something about some Star Wars character or other. There's an overwhelming amount of pop culture merchandise, most of which Cas now recognizes. But he's not sure what kind of shows or movies Claire likes, so he opts against those.

Walking deeper into the store, he comes across the jewelry displays. Claire might like some, maybe stud earrings or a necklace, nothing too frilly. But if she's going to keep hunting, and she is, it's not very practical to wear things that can get caught and slow her down. He keeps walking.

The music section is mostly t-shirts. This is where he finds Dean, eyeing the wall curiously, but not looking like he's going to buy.

“Find anything?” Dean asks when he feels Cas next to him.

“Not yet.”

“You will. You got this," he says again, and Cas greatly appreciates the vote of confidence.

Dean turns his attention back to the shirts, and Cas, who isn't all that sure about Claire’s music taste either, goes over to the furthermost wall.

The back of the store is where they keep the miscellaneous things, apparently. One half of the wall is full of small, bobblehead-ish figurines whose heads don’t bobble (as Cas discovers when he picks one of the boxes up and shakes it). The other half of the wall has quite a few things: bags and backpacks on display, a few accessories such as mesh gloves that wouldn’t keep one warm in the slightest, and unnecessarily intricate belts. At the bottom of the wall, however, he spots some shelves with plushies.

That’s where something catches Cas’s eye.

Dean is already at the back of the line when Cas gets there. He's buying an enamel Scooby-Doo keychain and says it's because Baby's is old and he needs a new one; the unbridled delight in his eyes gives him away, though.

"A stuffed animal?" He asks when he notices what Cas is holding. There's no judgment in it. A bit of amusement and maybe, just maybe, a hint of fondness, Cas thinks.

Cas holds up the cat for Dean to take and examine. "It's an... inside thing."

"Right," Dean says, and hands it back.

Dean asks if he even has any money, to which Cas doesn't answer, realizing he doesn't. Dean happily pays for both items.

---

"She kept it, y'know," Dean says behind him, the next day. He pats Cas's shoulder, then heads back to the car, keys jingling against the new keychain.

Castiel stands there for a second, watching the cab roll completely out of the parking lot and out of sight, and he's wishing he could have hugged her longer. Despite having him and the Winchesters and soon Jody Mills, despite knowing she'll always have them… Claire is more alone now than she's ever been. Cas knows she's tough, tougher than she should've had to be, but she's still a kid (as much as she insists she's not).

He… doesn't pray. Not anymore. But he hopes. He hopes for her every day, hopes for her wellness and safety, hopes he'll be able to see her face again and not just read her words or hear her voice through a phone. And right this second, he's also hoping that his present to her, (which she kept, Cas thinks fondly), will be able to serve its purpose. That it'll be a small source of comfort if she were to ever need it.

---

That night, as Claire settles into a motel bed, she gets a text from Cas. It's a Grumpy Cat meme, one of many cat memes she's received from him since they agreed to stay in touch more. In this one, the image is the cat lying in bed with that face of his, and it says "How many people got trampled on Black Friday this year? Not enough".

After having cried herself out in the backseat of the cab, she actually smiles for the first time all afternoon; it's not a wide or toothy smile but it's a smile, and she lets out an amused exhale through her nose, so that's something.

She texts him haha and the eye roll emoji.

Are you safe? Cas shoots back.

She double-checked all the locks on all the doors and windows. She's got a knife under the pillow and a gun under the bed. She's all set to get to Jody's by tomorrow. She breathes deep, squeezing the plushie tighter against her chest, and texts back.

I am. Night Cas

She doesn't have time to put the phone down before it dings again.

Good night, Claire. Sweet dreams.

They probably won't be all that sweet. They haven't been sweet in years. But at least now, when the bitter dreams inevitably wake her up, she's got something to hold. Or maybe strangle. Depends on the dream.

Plus, she's got an angel-dad watching over her, too. In a sense.

Claire lets the dryness in her eyes and the heaviness in her body take over, and she falls asleep. Grumpy Cat in hand.

---

Fic taglist: ask to be added or removed! <3

@casismymrdarcy @youcaneven @zorelle @spooky-floral-cas @lilcasx @oh-in-italics @theehunterhusbands @knifelesbianjo @spoookycastiel @shakespeareintellectualbadass @stressedtaco @aniridescentdreamer @mishacase2003 @spookymixtape @dykekingofhell @evermorecastiel @autumncastiel @nightandwine @doyouhearthedestielsing @all-or-nothing-baby @hauntedrederadean @ciderdean @blue-eyed-cutiepatootie @heres-to-evil-skanks @wormstacheangel @the-boy-kings-crown @10x02 @the-moon-loves-the-sea @ghostlynatural @one-more-offbeat-anthem @spookynightdeancas

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finaledenialist · 3 years

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(blame this post by @lobotomycastiel and tumblr tags limit)

It's almost august, and Sam is worried.

Dean simultanously can't bear to look at the kid and he can't leave him out of his sight. This leads to carrying Jack with him when he goes shopping, or for a walk in the forest. And Jack loves the forest. It's calm and the wind hums gently through the branches. Sometimes a bird chirps in the bushes. It's peaceful and for the longest time those long walks with Jack were the only times the little one was able to fall asleep, so they kind of became a habit; a sort of tradition; even after a few weeks when Jack finally learnt how to sleep in his cradle. Which obviously is in Dean's room because he is not. letting. Jack. out. of his. sight. Because he is the antichrist you know. The devil's son. Evil incarnated. That's why Dean has to keep an eye on him even if looking at him is the last thing he wants to do. At least that is of course how Dean excuses this to himself.

Then there are grocery runs. Dean made sure the Impala is safe for the kid and just drives with him safely tugged in the backseat. Jack absolutely loves those drives. He is looking in awe through windows at the passing world with his big doe eyes that not at all remind dean of C--

No. On their way back Jack usually falls asleep in 5 minutes. Their way home sometimes lasts way over 2 hours because Dean just likes to drive okay there is nothing wrong with a guy wanting to calm his thoughts and have a moment to himself in his own car right? That is not at all about the fact that Jack sleeps so peacefully and he looks so cute and innocent and Dean doesn't want to disturb it. So he drives and he drives and he drives. Sometimes he stops somewhere to look at the view or something and sometimes his eyes wander up to the sky, to the heaven's above and Dean doesn't know how or when but he caught himself praying and crying more times than he could count. In those silent prayers he tells Cas all about his day, about what they did with Jack: how Jack laughed when he saw a pidgeon or how interested he was when he saw a dog for the first time. You know; all that day to day stuff. It always ends with Dean almost begging for Cas to come back because he can't do this alone, because Sam just doesn't understand, because it's Cas' kid, it's Lucifer's but it's Cas', and it's Kelly's and he just can't let him go but he also can't do it alone. And holy shit Cas I don't know how it happened but he looks like you even though it's literally impossible. He has your eyes, even though they are not blue. But they are full of wonder and awe and life and curiosity about the world and sometimes they are full of tears but they are always, always full of love, and Cas, just please come back just this once, this just one more time, one more, only one more--

And then he hears Jack has woken up so he wipes his tears and walks to the car and smiles to the kid he should hate, who he wants to hate so desperately but he can't. He can't because this is just a kid - a newborn baby - who is completely at his mercy and he can't bring himself to hate him. He just doesn't have the energy that hate requires. What he has is grief. So he walks up to the car and takes Jack to his arms and Jack smiles at him with all the love and adoration of a child and Dean's eyes are teary again and he looks at the sky again and he says something like 'I don't believe that whole tarot crap you know'; he says it quietly. No one is there to hear him but Jack, but his voice is a soft almost-whisper and Jack's attention is immediately on the sound of Dean's voice because he loves that voice; the one who sings him lullabies and the one who calms him when he's scared because it's dark and he is so small and his mom's not there, and then Dean continues: 'but one day I will tell you all about the angels'. And then he kisses the top of Jack's head, the blond locks that are nothing like Cas', sits him safely in the car and they drive to the bunker. Jack is loudly complaining because he loves the forest and the town and people and the sky and the sun and the bunker is so dark and lonely and there is no dog.

They come back and Sam immediately yells at Dean, 'Where the hell did you two been?!' and he's obviously worried and a little angry, too, because this is getting out of hand. Everything is getting out of hand lately. So he adds, more softly this time, 'Dean you can't just... Your grocery runs can't last 6 hours, man. I am worried', but Dean is holding Jack with one hand and the groceries with the second. He puts the bags down and finally looks at Sam with dead eyes and doesn't speak. He hasn't in 3 months.

#i know that no one asked for this but i didn't go off just for tumblr to cut me off that violently #:/#widower arc #destiel txt #baby jack truthing

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buckleydiazmp4 · 2 years

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happy november 5th!!! i couldn't end the day without writing something, so here it is :)

words: 775

read below or on ao3

"Why does this sound like a goodbye?"

"Because it is."

Because it is. It is a goodbye and all Dean can do is order his knees not to give out because Cas is gonna do something reckless and stupid and he just said all these things and that isn't helping because Dean feels— he feels overwhelmed and he's trembling and all that's in his mind is just panic and he thinks I love you I love you I love you please don't do this to me not now not ever—

"I love you."

Dean looks at Cas' eyes and then he thinks he might be dreaming. He rattles around in his mostly vacant head to check if he's just under a djinn's influence or something but he just remembers Billie pounding on the door and the ringing in his ears and the tears gathering up in Cas' eyes and he has to remind himself to breathe.

And he knows Cas is genuine the minute he looks at him because there is just no way that this is anything but the truth, and he doesn't know if that certainty makes this better or worse. And he wants to tell him now, he knows he can, and he should, he's been wanting to for years, yet he feels like the ground is swallowing his feet and like his lips are sewn together and he doesn't want Cas to keep doing whatever it is he's doing because it means he's gonna leave again, probably for good, and Dean just knows he wouldn't be able to handle that because he's already tried and it nearly destroyed him, so he thinks and he speaks the most urgent words.

"Don't do this, Cas."

But Cas doesn't listen, he is as stubborn as he was since the night they met and that fact itself nearly brings tears to Dean's eyes because he's always just been Cas to him, stubborn, brave, generous Cas, but apparently knowing Dean has changed him and Dean wants to tell him, wants him to know that he changed him too, more than he even realized until this very moment.

But there's no time, there never is these days, and he thinks about how that old time-god was right, his future is covered in thick black ooze, because then the empty's there, sucking all the air out of the room and slithering all around, and Dean's still frozen in place until Cas pushes him back onto the floor and the tears in his eyes are replaced with black goo, and the last thing Dean sees is his smile still in place, as genuine as ever.

Out of all of his out-of-body experiences, this is Dean's worst. He's drifting, as if the pieces of his already broken soul are scattering all around the floor, and his body is too heavy, like it's melded entirely with the floor beneath him, and he's just watching from somewhere above. His ears still ring with the sound of the door pounding and Cas' trembly voice, and he thinks he hears something vibrating near him, probably his phone, he assumes. But his body is aware of Cas' absence and it refuses to react, so he sits there for what feels like an eternity until whatever little fight he had in him drains entirely out of him and dissolves in the air around him.

The thing about grief is that most people are right about it. At least it certainly starts with denial, and Dean's aware of it now more than ever, because if he focuses hard enough, he can still see Cas' blue eyes staring at him from the very same spot where he was standing just minutes ago, telling him he loved him, and some part of Dean, the one with the strongest will, believes that it's not just some sort of hallucination. Cas is in there somewhere. Dean wants to tell him how much he loves him, wants to scream it from the highest mountain, wants to whisper it in his ear, and pray it to him so that it seeps through his heart. Dean wants— needs to tell him. He needs to tell him so bad he feels like he's bursting at the seams, and he'll be damned if he doesn't get him back.

Dean's going to get him back, and then they'll defeat Chuck, and when he's sure that the last puppet strings are cut from all of them, when he's sure they're writing their own story, then he's gonna live the rest of his life the way he deserves, the way they all deserve it.

...Huh. Turns out Dean has more hope in him than he ever deemed possible.

#sorry about angsty stuff hdjdhdhjf #and i hope the ending is not too abrupt #anyways! happy 5th friends!#spn #destiel #supernatural #nov 5th #destiel fic #sara writes #creativecaviar #offbeattraxx #plantdadcas

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mishacollinsthighsss · 3 years

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Pairing: Dean Winchester/Castiel

Warnings: mention of Dean's death, mention of Castiel's death (but it's mostly just pure fluff, I promise)

Post 15x20, Fix-It-Fic (kinda)

Happy Supernatural day guys, I thought a little Destiel fix-it would be fitting for this day 💙

Not beta'd, all mistakes are my own

"Cas, you stupid son of a bitch! Do you hear me? That's what you are, alright?"

Dean looked up into the sky above him - which, now that he thought about it wasn't actually the sky, but who knew what was real in heaven and what wasn't. He had been driving around for a month now - maybe it had been just two weeks? - Dean didn't know, but what he knew was that he was praying to the stupid angel in a trenchcoat, without success. He'd thought that after everything that had happened, Cas would be happy to see him, would come to greet him the second he arrived here, but nothing.

"Damnit Cas, I know you can hear me!"

The former hunter was standing at the foot of a mountain, surrounded by nothing but trees, flowers, and bees. He didn't even notice how far he'd walked, but when he let his gaze wander, he realized that the meadow was huge. He felt an ache in his heart all of a sudden, because he knew that this, right here, would be one of Cas' favorite places.

His anger grew all of a sudden, but at the same time, his eyes filled with tears and he sat down on the ground, leaning against a solid tree.

"Listen, I know that - that things aren't that fancy between us right now, but I - I wanna... God, move your ass here, Cas!"

His voice got louder and louder, until he could hear it echoing back from... somewhere. Dean had no idea, but he didn't care. He was exhausted, even though he didn't need to sleep up here, but he knew exactly that it wasn't that kind of exhaustion, no, it was the emotional kind.

For what had felt like forever, he was searching for Cas, trying to reach him somehow, starting right after he realized that he loved the goddamn angel as well, but until now, there was not a single sign of him.

"Please man, I need you. We need - we need to talk."

His voice cracked at the last word and the first tear found its way down his cheek, but he wiped it away quickly. His head dropped back then against the tree with a sigh, and he closed his eyes.

"You realize that you can't hide forever, right? Come on, whatever the reason is, we'll figure it out, we'll figure everything out. Cas, please."

His eyes were still closed, and suddenly, there was a light breeze at the meadow, making the trees rustle a little.

"Hello, Dean."

Dean's head snapped up while he tore his eyes open, and for a second, he felt too dizzy to see anything. When his eyes got used to the light again though, he was looking right at Cas'...

His eyes snapped up so fast that once again, he got hit by a wave of dizziness, while his cheeks got hot in an instant.

"Jesus, you could've showed up next to me, or behind me, or... or..."

Just then, the former hunter realized that it was actually Cas standing right in front of him, and just like that, his heart was up his throat, while at the same time, his stomach seemed to tie itself in knots. It was Cas, his Cas who he was searching for a month, standing right in front of him like nothing had happened.

He jumped up, not sure what he was about to say, but all of a sudden, he was furious.

"Hello? That's all you have to say?"

His voice was shaking, and his hands automatically clenched into fists, while he tried to control himself not to punch the angel right into his stupid, beautiful face.

"Yes."

Cas' expression was blank, and Dean huffed an angry laugh, while he turned to bring some space between them. When he took a few steps, he didn't turn around again, because his eyes were burning with unshed tears, and as much as Dean was thinking about this moment, prepared for it, even, he couldn't say what he wanted to say, not now, not like this.

"Do you have any idea how long I've been searching for you?" the hunter asked, his voice quiet.

"I'm aware, yes," Castiel answered, and Dean had to close his eyes. He'd been thinking about this moment for almost two months now, the whole time on earth and in heaven, and this wasn't how he'd thought it would go. It wasn't even close.

"Then why? Why did you make me wait?"

It was a desperate question, Dean's voice full of emotions, he could hear it, but he couldn't stop it. It took him some time to become like this, to not hide his feelings anymore, and he wouldn't be ashamed of it now.

"I could sense your anger, Dean. I thought that -"

"Well, next time stop thinking buddy, and do what I ask you for."

Dean knew it sounded selfish, and again, a little desperate, but he couldn't stop himself. Slowly, he turned around, his head lowered to hide his tears at first, but after he took a deep breath, he raised it slowly to look at Cas.

"You have any idea how much I've missed you, you son of a bitch?" he whispered, while he slowly approached the angel, one small step after another. Castiel's eyes went wide for a second, before his expression went completely blank again, but even though he tried to hide it, Dean noticed the small gulp anyway.

"You have any idea how I felt when you left? When you dumped all that shit on me, not even caring about what I'd have to say, and then you just disappeared? You have any idea how that made me feel?"

Dean's voice got louder and louder, and at the end, he was almost yelling, his voice echoing from the mountains, and for the first time since Cas' confession, he understood what the angel had said.

'You think that hate and anger, that's what drives you, that's who you are. It's not!'

No, what he was feeling wasn't anger. He wasn't angry at Cas. He was desperate, and heartbroken, and confused, but not angry. Slowly, the former hunter took a deep breath, his gaze locked with Cas' the whole time.

"You think I'm a rock? That you could just dump that on me and leave, and that I'd be okay with that?"

Dean took another step closer, then one more, until their faces were only inches apart. The angel lowered his head in shame, but not a single word came out of his mouth. When his ears turned into a dark share of red, Dean almost smiled through his tears.

"You think I'm okay without my best friend by my side?" Dean whispered, while he pushed Cas' head back up, using his index finger.

"Cas, say something," he begged, almost desperate, because even though Dean had learned to deal with his shit by now, he still couldn't stand it to get no answer when he was being vulnerable in front of anybody.

"I'm sorry," Cas whispered, while he lifted his head all the way to look into Dean's eyes. The former hunter could see tears glistening in Castiel's eyes as well, and just with one look, he knew that the angel was sincere.

"Just don't... don't ever do shit like that again, alright?" Dean mumbled, before he grabbed the angel by the shoulders and pulled him into a hug, so tight that breathing got hard after some seconds, but Dean didn't care, because first of all, he was dead already, and second, he'd die for this, for Cas, just like Cas had died for him.

After some moments, Castiel hesitantly lifted his arms as well and wrapped his arms around Dean's lower back, which made the former hunter sigh. His eyes fell shut and he had a hard time resisting the urge to bury his face at the other man's neck, but somehow, he did it. Just when he was about to let go, he could feel a sharp pain at the back of his head, accompanied by a loud slapping sound. Dean jumped back, eyes wide, and stared at Cas in disbelief.

"That," Cas said, the smallest of smiles on his lips, "was for dying right after I sacrificed myself for you to live. You can thank Charlie for showing me this."

Dean raised his hand and rubbed the spot that was throbbing a little now, and he was more than aware that in heaven, he wasn't supposed to feel any pain, except of when he wanted to.

"That's... that's fair," he mumbled, and his cheeks turned pink, while the corner of his mouth lifted a little.

"Yeah, I think I deserve that."

He wasn't sure if Cas knew how he died, or why, but if he did, he wasn't showing it. No, if he'd know, he wouldn't grin like that now, Dean was sure, and for some reason, he was more relieved about that than he thought he'd be.

"Listen, there's... there's something else we need to talk about," he mumbled suddenly, and his smile disappeared immediately, just like Castiel's.

"If you mean what happened on earth -"

"No, you shut your mouth and let me talk, you had your moment already."

There was no heat behind Dean's words, but Cas' mouth snapped shut anyway. Suddenly, there was a light breeze ghosting over the meadow, and Dean felt the urge to turn around, so he did, blaming it on his still very present hunter instincts. He was almost sure to see someone behind them, Jack maybe, or anyone else who wanted to see Dean, but what was there instead took his breath away.

Right there, just a few feet behind them, was a huge barn, but not any barn, no, the barn they'd met all those years ago. The light changed as well, and suddenly, it was dark, the only light given by at least a thousand fireflies, quietly flying around the barn.

"Friggin' heaven," he mumbled and his face turned into a dark shade of red, because even though he was denying it all the time, he knew this was his work - he was a fucking sap.

When he turned his head again to look at Cas, the angel's eyes were wide, staring in awe at the spectacle in front of his, his lips slightly parted.

"Dean..."

"Not a word. Listen, there's... there's some stuff I wanna say as well," Dean said, his voice more firm that he'd thought, but he cleared his throat anyway before he began to speak.

"First of all, I'm still mad at you for what you did back there, alright? And I will be, probably for a long time. But..."

The former hunter searched Castiel's gaze, and only when their eyes locked, he continued.

"But even though I was - or am - mad, that doesn't mean I didn't miss you like crazy. Do you have any idea how fuckin' thrilled I was when I came here and Bobby told me you're around as well? And how - how disappointed I was when you didn't show up?"

"Dean, I didn't mean to -"

"No, shut up, man. I already told you, you had your moment."

Dean waited for an answer, but Cas was just standing there, staring at him, without saying another word. He shoved his hands into his jeans pockets, but when his fingers hit something that hadn't been in there before, he furrowed his brows. Slowly, he tried to make out what it was. It was something small, a little box, maybe? It was soft and -

Oh. Oh no. Definitely no. This couldn't be, this-

"Dean?"

Dean's eyes snapped back to Cas, and just then he noticed that he'd had lowered his head. The angel stared at him with his brows furrowed and his head tilted to the side, and Dean's heart jumped by the sight.

'Why not?' a voice was whispering in his head all of a sudden, and he knew it was right? Why the hell not, right? It's not like he'd suddenly die, he already was dead. Go big or go home.

"Yeah, I'm, uh... let's walk a little, alright?"

Dean tilted his head into the direction of the barn and started walking, and Cas followed him immediately. As soon as they were side by side, their arms touching just a little, like they'd always done when he was still alive, Dean started talking again.

"So... I have one question. Did you mean it? What you said, I mean, the - the love part."

The former hunter was too afraid to look at Castiel, so he kept his gaze at his feet, watching every of his own steps carefully. He knew Cas had meant it, but he still needed to ask, just to make sure.

"Of course I meant it, Dean."

Again, Dean's heart jumped and he had to take a few deep breaths to calm it down. They walked around the barn until they reached the entrance door, which was closed, and that's when Dean stopped. He took another deep breath and lifted his gaze, about to start talking again, but as soon as their eyes locked, he couldn't get a word out. Instead, he lifted his hand, which was shaking a little, slowly, almost like he could break Cas if he wasn't careful. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think anymore, his whole body worked on its own. As soon as his fingertips touched the other man's cheek, careful, soft, he exhaled.

He wanted to say so much, wanted to tell the angel that he loved him, that what he did was stupid, that he could have what he wanted, but his mouth didn't work.

Cas' eyes went wide by Dean's touch, but not even a second later, he leaned closer to Dean's hand, and Dean cupped his cheek fully. Somehow, they got closer and closer, and now their noses were almost touching, Dean could feel Castiel's breath on his own lips. Out of reflex, his tongue flicked out to wet them, and Cas' gaze dropped down, just for a split second, but he didn't move.

"You stupid son of a bitch," Dean whispered, his eyes full of tears once again, before he closed the distance and pressed his lips against Castiel's. Their mouths were closed, it was a soft, tender kiss, almost a little shy, but feeling Cas' lips on his own for the first time was enough to drive Dean crazy. His eyes fell shut, which caused some tears to roll down his cheeks, but he didn't even notice, he was too focused on the other man.

Cas gasped when their lips met, and at first, he was frozen in place, but when Dean started to move his lips, slowly, to give the angel time to proceed what was happening, Cas hesitantly put his hands on Dean's waist and pulled him closer. Dean whimpered and he knew he'd deny it later, but he stepped even closer, until their bodies were pressed together from head to toe.

They were standing there for minutes, hours, days, hell, it could've been weeks, according to how time worked in heaven, but when they finally separated, Cas was looking at him with such awe in his eyes that Dean had to lower his head.

"You could've just asked, you know? I know - I know I wasn't easy to be around, but... to think that this is something you couldn't have, that was just stupid."

Huh, his voice sounded way too deep. Cas didn't say a word, didn't even breathe, and as the seconds ticked by, Dean got a little worried. Slowly, he looked up, just to see Cas still standing there like before, his eyes wide, his mouth slightly opened, his cheeks flushed. He was beautiful.

"I love you too, Cas," Dean said, his voice quiet, because he didn't know what else to say. Then, just like that, Cas' eyes filled with tears in mere seconds, and the liquid slowly ran down his cheeks as soon as he began to smile. The smile quickly turned into a grin, and Dean couldn't resist to smile as well. For some reason, they both started laughing, at the same time, and they laughed so hard that their bellies started to hurt.

When they finally calmed down a little, Dean took Cas' hand and took a few deep breaths.

"We're both a couple of dumbasses, huh?" he mumbled, his mind once again wandering back to the small box that was still hiding in his pocket.

"Dean, I -"

"I'm not done yet," Dean said with a grin, which felt a little off, because he was nervous as hell all of a sudden. With his free hand, he pulled out the little box, still hiding it in his fist, and started talking once more.

"So uh... I know that I'm - well, dead, and you're an angel, and heaven is a fucking traitor, but uh... would you... wear that? It's - it's not - I mean, marriage is a bit useless up here, but -"

The former hunter wasn't sure how to finish, so he just closed his mouth and lifted his hand with the little box. As soon as he opened it, he couldn't hold back a little chuckle. What was inside was a ring, a silver ring to be more specific, but there was one blue line, going around the silver all the way in little waves. Dean remembered how he'd seen this ring once, and even back then, his mind had jumped to Castiel immediately, because the blue was the exact same color as the angel's eyes.

Cas' eyes went wide once again and he lifted his hand to touch the ring carefully. Silence stretched between them, and just when Dean started to think this had been a bad idea, Cas sobbed, just once, before he wrapped his arms around the former hunters neck and squeezed tightly.

"It'd be an honor to wear that ring, Dean," he whispered, right next to Dean's ear, and Dean breathed out, just then realizing that he'd been holding his breath. When Cas pulled back from the hug, Dean took his hand once again and slid the ring on his finger, before he intertwined their hands with a smile.

"I know that - that there's a lot to talk about still, but could we just... dunno, enjoy the night? Or... day, or evening, or... whatever..." Dean asked when he looked around. The light had changed once again, and instead of the barn, there was a small house, just big enough for two people to comfortably live in. Nearby was a little lake, surrounded by trees. The meadow was still there, but there was also a road now, close to the house. And a white picket fence. A fucking white picket fence. Dean's face turned red in an instant.

"Is this where you want to live from now on?" Cas asked while looking around, not even noticing Dean's embarrassment.

"Seems like it is," Dean shot back, his voice a little more grumpy than usual.

"It's beautiful," Cas answered, before he looked at Dean again, his face turning serious.

"Do you want to... live alon-"

"God, Cas, are you fucking kidding me? Don't even think about leaving me again or I'll find you just to stab you."

"Wouldn't be the first time," Cas mumbled, but there was a huge, loving smile on his face, and Dean couldn't do anything else than to smile back.

"Let's get inside then," Cas said and squeezed Dean's hand, and the former hunter nodded and followed quickly. Cas was back, finally, and Dean wasn't a coward for once. He'd been honest about his feelings, and for the first time in his life, there was nothing that could destroy his happiness. No monster, no sudden death, nothing. It was just Cas and him. Cas, angel of the lord, soldier of God, who loved him. Him, just a human, a tiny, little human. Dean couldn't believe his luck. He followed Cas inside the house, and when he turned around to close the door, he exhaled. This was heaven, right here, with Cas, the man he loved. Finally, he was at peace. Finally, he was home.

Tag list: @sam--ships--it @green-blue-heller @professorerudite @foolsdreamhigh @jmjlover @spnmrvlshrlck @melly-the-crazy-coconut @thebluelynxx @lulu-zodiac @bigartpuppy @charliesfandomlife

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#dean winchester #castiel #destiel #destiel fanfic #destiel fic #destiel fanfiction #destiel fix it #post 15x20 #destiel first kiss #deancas #deancas fic #deancas fanfiction #deanxcastiel #dean x cas #JasWrites

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