sweetheart (condescending) || ao3
It starts when Dean and Cas are bickering about a case, trying to figure out what the fuck was killing all these people. The only clue they have is the blood was completely drained from the victims’ bodies through an IV and there were at least two of them working together.
They had been arguing over whether it was a group of vampires (Dean’s theory) or vetalas (Cas’ theory) for the past hour at a local diner.
"Okay sweetheart," Dean says, sarcasm dripping with each syllable. "I guess we'll see soon. There they go." He points to a shady group he recognizes from the CCTV footage.
Cas shoots him a withering glare as they slide out of the booth. Dean pulls out his wallet and drops a couple bills on the table, and when he looks up, Cas is already out the door, dramatically flinging the door open.
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love, #4, in blue | 29/05/2022
transcript under the cut
as you tread upon the flowers,
broken stems under your feet,
as you tread upon the meadows,
your weight resting on my broken back,
held down by defeat,
mend me,
mend me,
break me,
like the rotten stem that i am.
what you want i cannot be,
for i am made of flesh and blood,
thorn-crowned upon my brow,
my violet-bruising skin,
for there is rot within my ribcage,
blue
blue
blue,
like broken cornflowers.
can i fade? can i fold?
before the blades come back for me?
i look to you to save me, open palms,
which holy farmers once forbade,
but oh—i can see you waver!
could you want
could you want
could you want me,
defective machine? your hands are still holy.
and your lips? could they burn into my flesh?
famine was wrong,
(i have a hunger)
your tears are fucking manna,
can’t you see that I am starving?
for your touch
for your lips
for this,
could you rip my heart out with a kiss?
i said it, didn't i?
with a smile,
with the warmth in my eye,
you can have me once i die,
don’t turn around,
come with me,
come with me,
come with me, my siren song,
i am eurydice.
taglist (ask to be added or removed):
@1x06 @10x02 @bellyofawhale @buckcodeddyke @butchmisha @castielbrainrot @
[email protected] @blossomhaze @doctorprofessorsong @emeraldcas @gaybucktruthing @greatcometcas @holyfirecircle @heathenmary @jewishdeanwinchester @lazarusemma @season12cas @transbibuck
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will you accept this rose? (Dean!Bachelor AU WIP)
link to ao3
beta’d by: @fractalhallways (with inspiration from @aussie-twat)
summary:
The Bachelor is back on April 30th!
Dean Winchester is on a ground-breaking journey to find the love of his life. With 16 amazing women and men ready to steal Dean's heart, anything is possible.
Dean: "I'm a Chef from Kansas and I'm ready to fall in love and find my person. I want to get married; to settle down and create a life full of love and adventure. I truly believe my future husband or wife is here."
"How could you not fall for Dean? He's literally the whole package." "Dean has everything you could ever want in a husband. He's funny, he's hot, and he can cook." "I could truly see myself marrying Dean."
Romance is on the horizon for Dean: "I could see myself falling for so many of these amazing people." "What would life be like if we got married?" "I can't picture my life without you."
But with romance comes drama. And lots of tears.
"I'll do whatever it takes to get my time with Dean." "You back-stabbing, two faced bitch." "Go on, tell Dean what you told the cameras yesterday you lying asshole." "What Dean doesn't know won't hurt him."
But will Dean find his forever person?
"I'm so in love with you." "I want to put this ring on your finger so badly." "You're it for me."
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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.
The drill whirs.
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.
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dream a little dream || ao3
After Cas dies on a hunt, Dean ends up hallucinating the angel.
3798 words.
Dean leaned against the wall and slid to the floor. "If the people I care about aren't dead, their lives are fucked up." He buried his face into his hands, his voice broken and muffled, "I break everything I touch, Sammy."
"That's not true, Dean." Sam's voice chorused with someone else's—that was Cas' voice.
Dean's eyes flew open and he scanned the room eagerly.
Of course, he thought bitterly when he didn't see the angel in the trench coat, it's all in my head. I'm friggen hallucinating about the guy. Can't even tell him how it feels cause I'm too fucking late.
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here is a vigil to a man i chewed and swallowed.
here is the prayer i sing to him
when i bleed and he feels the pain.
here is the pillow, and the broken lampshade,
and there the coordinates where he watched
his wife give birth to sun.
and here am i, the chords around his wrists and thighs,
the creature smelling sight through his ears.
nerves, tell me what it means to step into open flame.
hand me a lemon, and i will show you how to squeeze life dry
in someone else's fist. watch the acid burn holes in his palms,
jesu, o' jesu of the cornfield; he, too,
is holy.
.rdc
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