#human cas fics fuck severely they go hard
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i do get making cas essentially human i understand that he can adjust to it and actually enjoy life like that. but um. i just think he can be just as fulfilled as a full blown angel
#human cas fics fuck severely they go hard#but i cant really vibe with cas like. just ''being human'' endgame#cos we already know no matter if he can fly no matter if he has grace he won't BE human that's an entirely different species ya dig#if the show was normal about non-human creatures being people as much as humans are#i probably wouldn't mind as much? but the show is very very sucky about that so#they scratch the surface on nonhumans being capable of like. fear and hopelessness and love.#and instead of really having salmondean explore this they just. forget about it and maybe the cycle restarts in another motw ep#ik it probably aligns with the overall copification of those 2 and it makes me so full of malice...#what im saying is cas is decidedly other. a creature an incredibly powerful one.#and i think it really shows that him not being human separates him from them. he's not as trusted#even after 12 years :/ it's kinda easy to oust him cos he keeps relationships with heaven.#which brings me to the whole ''oh fuck angels we hate angels oh but um not you cas!!'' thing like bro he's still an angel#you pick which monsters u find worthy of redemption but never fully accept them for what they are and discard em pretty easily#so yeah i think having cas be graceless is interesting and even makes sense but ig it just seems too easy on the winchesters#they never had to really accept cas as a full powered angel cos honestly they way they remember it#cas at full power wings in tact was just an asshole and he was barely ever back to that: comfortable in his prime after like s7 wtv#once it's all over and done with i think it'd be cool if cas could have all his wings and power in tact and just be at peace like that#he's an angel but he doesn't have to be a soldier anymore he can quite literally do anything now whole point of free will#and yeah he can choose to be graceless sure but he can never be human anyway. physically at his core he's something Else and i think#dean should have to like. live with that tbh#they never have to REALLY tackle the ''monsters are people too'' aspect and angel cas endgame would prove that regardless#he IS family. they dont NEED him to be an angel to USE him but regardless he is what he is and#they are fine with him not being human because he's family and they love him who cares what you are.#cos in cas' mind he needs his power to be useful but also he cannot truly be part of them while he is noticeably Other due to their bias#this is true for other characters obviously jack rowena crowley#sam's whole thing with benny 💀#but this is a cas post and i haven't watched the show in years so this isn't like. a cited essay lmao just ramblings#in short i just want cas to be fully angel while not feeling he HAS to be for others' sake and have the brothers be genuinely cool with it#cas my best friend cas#cas studies
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Write a fic where Dean drags Cas to a lake against his will, tells Cas they should go swimming, Cas objects, and Dean just shoves him fully clothed into the water.
Your wish is my command
send me a prompt for a fic
Castiel has been human for two weeks, and, needless to say, the bunker is under a lot of stress. For one, Castiel doesn’t understand the concept of sharing. He steals towels, food, clothes, shoes, and credit cards. He never returns these items without Dean having to practically grovel at his feet, and if he doesn’t return the item, it ends up in one of the several messy piles that Castiel leaves behind every time he exits a room.
Dean is running on very little sleep when he knocks obnoxiously on Castiel’s door at six in the morning. Castiel groans behind the door, and Dean shouts through it: “Up and at ‘em, sunshine. We’ve got places to be.”
Castiel opens the door a minute or so later looking nothing short of disheveled. He looks more human than usual in the mornings—sleep in the corners of his eyes, bags underneath them, his hair messier than usual.
“Where are we going?”
“I know I’ve been on your ass a lot lately,” Dean starts, eyes moving to the floor, “and I’m sorry. You’re new to this whole human thing, and I know that’s gotta be hard.” He manages to look Castiel in the eyes. “So, let’s go see something cool.”
Castiel shakes his head. “I would rather sleep.”
“Too bad.”
Castiel narrows his eyes. “Do I get to sleep in the car?”
“Yeah, why not?”
“Fine.” A pause. “Can I borrow a shirt?”
Dean’s eye twitches. “Sure, bud.”
~
Twenty minutes later, they’re loaded up in the Impala with hoodies on to combat the chilly morning spring air. For the duration of the hour-long drive, Castiel dozes in the passenger seat.
Dean parks the car on the side of the trail that leads to a small pier. “Wake up,” he says unceremoniously as he shakes Castiel’s shoulder.
Castiel grumbles and opens his eyes. He looks out the windshield at the lake in front of them and sighs. “This is not ‘something cool’, as you put it.”
“‘Course it is. C’mon.”
Dean manages to get Castiel to walk to the end of the pier with him. He stares out at the mist sitting just above the surface of the lake and the sun peeking out from behind the trees.
“Pretty, ain’t it?” Dean says, smiling at his newly-human friend.
Castiel starts to relax, and his persistent frown fades. “Yes, I suppose it is. It’s quiet.”
“Mmhm.”
The two stand there for several minutes as the sun continues to rise. Birds twitter in the branches of the trees. Something splashes in the distance.
“We should go swimming,” Dean declares.
“What?” Castiel asks incredulously. “It’s cold out, and we didn’t bring swimming attire.”
“Don’t you want to feel the water?”
“Not particularly.”
Dean’s lips curl into a grin. “Too bad,” he repeats himself from earlier. With no warning, he brings up both of his hands, takes one look at Castiel’s widening eyes, then shoves him hard. The way Castiel falls is grandiose and comical. His arms flail in circles, and his legs kick out in front of him. He hits the water with a massive splash that sprays Dean in a fine mist. “That’s what you get for eating my sandwich,” Dean mutters.
Castiel comes splashing to the surface moments after sinking, frantically paddling like a toddler. He tries to reach for the pier, but it’s just out of his grasp.
Dean squats on the edge and smiles down at him. “See? Isn’t it nice?”
Castiel sputters until he grabs one of the pillars of the pier that anchors it to the bottom of the lake. He breathes deeply for a few seconds before glaring up at Dean. “You inconsiderate, double-crossing, little FUCK!”
Dean barks out a laugh that makes his body shake so hard that he nearly falls backwards onto his ass. “Good first use of that word.” He laughs a little more, then sighs. Castiel looks like a cat that fell in the bathtub—his mop of hair sticking to his forehead, his hoodie drenched. Dean starts to feel a little bad, and extends a hand. “C’mon, I’ll help you up.”
Castiel glares at Dean’s hand for a few seconds before slowly reaching for it. He gingerly wraps his fingers around Dean’s palm, then, he gets a twinkle in his eye. With one arm still wrapped around the pillar, he yanks hard on Dean’s arm, and somehow has the force to pull Dean off balance and send him head first into the water. Dean is submerged before he can say a word.
When he resurfaces, he splashes water in Castiel’s face. “Asshole!”
Castiel just grins at him.
And that’s how they end up driving back to the bunker in their underwear with their soggy clothes stuffed into the trunk to protect Baby’s leather. They never talk about it.
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do u have any fics that i wont have heard of? like ones with fewer hits so there harder to find
ooo this is a good one, anon! you haven't specified which fandom you're interested in, so I'll start with SPN and then do some other fandoms if people are interested :) and for the purposes of this, I'll be counting anything with under 5k hits as lesser known!
Lesser Known Destiel Fics
you're the one that i wanted to find by badritual (373)
The Castiel of old has fallen away like molted feathers, leaving behind a wholly new creation.
gay love pierced through the veil of death and saved the day by honeybee (444)
Cas doesn’t die. That’s literally it.
this is a good thing, dean. (prayer is a sign of faith) by cascountsdeansfreckles (529)
Dean’s legs still don’t want to move. He sits propped up against the wall and stares unseeing at the chair in the middle of the room. Everything that Cas said plays over and over in his head. The image of Cas looking devastatingly relieved, content, as he was taken from Dean won’t leave his mind.
He doesn’t know what else to do. So he prays.
1 Missed Call by glenien (597)
The buzzing never stops.
so it goes by K_K_TiBal (665)
Castiel returns one more time to retrieve something he left behind.
absurd in the best way by clasch (669)
Castiel tries to make a pie for Dean.
Bodily Communion by runsinthefamily (905)
Survival in Purgatory has some weird aspects.
may i feel said he by bk119 (1k)
a coda to 15.19. cas comes back, and words are said.
choices. by scoundrelhan (1.1k)
Castiel thinks he’s dying. Humans are always doing that.
you can have it, though by make_your_user_a_name (1.1k)
Jack was walking away and it was too late. It was too late because Dean didn’t think he would have to say anything. He thought Jack would bring it up and they would never have to know that he missed Cas so desperately it hurt. It hurt so goddamn bad.
And then Jack stopped and turned back to the Winchesters, his eyes focused on Dean. And that’s when it hit him. Jack knew. Jack knew what Cas had said. Jack knew Dean needed to say it or the second Cas was back everything would just go back to normal.
So he did.
“Bring him back.” His voice was low but it wasn’t threatening. It came out more broken than anything. Because he was so broken. And maybe it was okay to let them see it. “Bring Cas back, Jack. We,” he glanced at Sam and took a deep breath. “I need him.”
15x18 coda: it's in the being by contemplativepancakes (1.1k)
Blood splatters from a severed neck, the body twitching before it collapses to the floor. It sprays across Dean’s face, dotting red droplets over his cheeks and in his hair. Dean keeps his mouth shut so he doesn’t get the taste of copper stuck in it; he already can’t get Cas’s face out of his mind.
Dean knows this is the last place he should be, that with the world ending, it doesn’t really matter if there’s one less nest of vamps in the world, but if he stops moving, then he’ll… have to think.
“I wondered what my true happiness could even look like, because the one thing I want, it’s something I know I can’t have.”
Fuck, they wasted so much time.
15x19 coda: stripped of everything holy by contemplativepancakes (1.2k)
“About time we put you on the family tree, right?”
Jack sinks down in the chair across from him, contemplating. He puts the tip to the table and rests it there.
Jack glances up at him. “Why isn’t Cas’s name here?”
That’s a damn good question, Dean thinks. It’s because he was too much of a fucking coward. Dean’s still having trouble reconciling everything Cas said with the past ten years of his life. It seems like, maybe, if he thinks about it hard enough, he can see that Cas returned his feelings, but he still can’t believe Cas said all those things. He’s bullshit all the way through, but Cas… Cas hadn’t thought so.
Dean clears his throat. “We’ll add his next, huh?”
candles & wishes by harrow (1.2k)
Dean turned to Cas speculatively. “Do you have a birthday?”
Now Everything is Easy 'cause of You by chai_lattes (1.3k)
Cas never understood why humans were so fond of sleeping, but he was starting to. Dean chalked it up to knowing that they were finally safe, or Cas finally had a real bed, but Cas would just smile, quietly knowing the real difference was no longer having to sleep alone.
Cas reflects on being human, being happy, and being a morning person.
Chocolate, Caramel, and Zombies (Of a Metaphorical Sense) by TextReciprocation (1.4k)
Castiel approached the counter and looked at the menu contemplatively. The barista spun around to face him, eyes bright and hair untidy. He was roughly Castiel's height and build, with sandy hair and lightly tanned skin. Castiel's breath caught at the sight of him, but he bit his tongue, chastising himself.
Cute baristas were rarely gay and always taken. Castiel knew this. Fate, as it happened, was a cruel mistress.
Never Enough by make_your_user_a_name (1.5k)
It took him hours to notice it. He hadn’t felt it in the moment. Hadn’t felt the Cas’ hand stick slightly to his shoulder as it pushed him away, leaving him to face the Empty alone.
But now that he’d noticed it, it was all he could look at. That bright red handprint standing out starkly against his jacket. It was perfect, really. Not a drop out of place. Just a handprint and nothing else. That was all he had left.
The handprint where Castiel had “gripped him tight and raised him from perdition.” And now he’d saved him one more time. Same shoulder, same placement, same sting when Dean looked at it.
It was poetic in the cruelest of ways. And if it weren’t for everything, he would have thought this was Chuck’s writing. But, no. Castiel was the only part of Chuck’s story that he couldn’t control. Because Cas had fallen.
how's hope feeling today by sleepinnude (1.5k)
After Cas is gone, bees start to follow Dean.
Sunrise by mattzerella_sticks (1.7k)
Dean and Sam were free. Finally, unequivocally, free.
But this wasn't the happy ending Dean had expected. Maybe in the past, having Sam in the passenger seat tearing across an open stretch of highway as the sunsets, it'd be what he wanted. But that was years ago. He's not that man anymore. Dean's tired of sunsets, of saying goodbye. He yearns for a different ending. One that's less of an ending, and more of a beginning. A sunrise instead of a sunset.
Sam has his. Dean lost his. Despite this setback, he won't stop. He'll live in memory of his sunrise.
Except, what can he do when he feels those rays on his face again?
Loving Castiel by dinluke (1.9k)
“How did you find me?” Dean asks. Castiel squints and looks at him like he’s the sun.
“Your, uh, yearning was pretty loud,” he says sheepishly.
Sleep Deprivation by Honey_Honey (2.3k)
Dean licked his lips. They tasted like honey. Which was funny, seeing as it was the one part of his breakfast he hadn’t eaten. In fact, Cas had tried the honey instead.
Oh. Oh fuck.
“Did I just kiss Cas?”
And Sam’s descent into uncontrollable laughter was an answer enough.
Walk Through Fire For You by purple_charlie (2.3k)
Boyfriend.
The word still feels foreign in Dean’s mouth, still brings back echoes of John Winchester’s thinly-veiled (if even that) homophobia. "Man up, don’t be a sissy, I didn’t raise a fairy". It’s a swollen blister in the back of Dean’s mind, throbbing with pain whenever a stranger’s eyes linger too long on Cas’ hand in his, whenever a waitress double-takes at how close they sit in diner booths.
But here, dirty dancing with Cas in a warehouse full of other queer folks, Dean wants to shout from the rooftops- I’m Dean Winchester, I drive the baddest car in town, I lift heavy things for a living, and this is my boyfriend.
Could Not Return You by tigersinlondon (2.8k)
Dean might have gotten over himself when it comes to sleeping with Cas (in the sex way, not the cuddles-and-snoring way), and even telling him that he loves him, but he’s not ready to do anything crazy like hold his hand in public, or admit aloud that they’re in a relationship in front of Sam, or God forbid, actually share a room, a bed, a living space with Cas.
Funny Bone by PallasPerilous (4.9k)
It wasn’t even a particularly creepy skeleton; it was in kind of a “just chillin’” pose on the floor. One ankle was still locked up in a heavy iron cuff, at the end of a short chain leading back to the wall. Snoresville, as dead stuff goes; Dean’s seen worse at Disneyland.
It was the skeleton’s comment about Dean’s ass that really livened things up.
Compromise by tiamatv (7.5k)
It wasn't uncommon for Dean to find himself tracking down an ex-angel in their underground home in the middle of the night, because Cas got nightmares. Ten years ago, though, if anyone had told Dean this would become a semi-regular occurrence in his life, he’d probably have laughed so hard, his beer would have come out of his nose.
Crazy Hex Girlfriend by whichstiel (10k)
Dean and Castiel infiltrate an extravagant couples-only Halloween party at the invitation of the party’s host who has been receiving mysterious threats. They patrol the party for hex bags and dark altars, interview suspects, and Dean happily scores a lot of free food. He just wishes he could score with Cas.
How Many Slams In An Old Screen Door? [podfic] by Tenoko1 (15k/2hr podfic)
In which Castiel is a theatre major terrible at first impressions; Dean is a set designer who likes Cas anyway; and the most chaotic production of Les Miserables in history somehow manages to go off without a hitch. Or, just as you should never give a moose a muffin (because he'll want some jam to go with it), you should never give a blank check to a university theatre department. [podfic version]
The Cabin on the Lake by DeanRH (22k)
The Winchester brothers are long lost to history. The angel keeps the vigil, haunted by the shadows of his regrets.
Among other things.
this post is getting way too long so I'm gonna start a second one now!! hopefully you can enjoy these lesser known fics in the meantime :)
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Suptober 2022 Day 18 - Tattoos
Destiel, Short fic, 674 words
Dean and Cas decide to get matching tattoos.
Under the cut or on Ao3
Tattoos
Dean shuddered as Cas gazed into his soul while the whir of the tattoo gun hummed in his ears. He thanked his lucky stars that the tattoo artist was so focused on their work and hadn't noticed that Dean was half hard in his jeans as Cas' eyes burned possessively into him.
Oddly enough, the whole thing had started with an argument…
*****
"If you really wanted me all those years ago, why did you heal your handprint?" Dean shouted, then flushed as he realized what had just left his mouth. Even though they'd been together for several months, he still got itchy when he circled too close to how pathetically he needed Cas.
Cas glared at him and yelled back, “You made it clear that you were going to go live with Lisa—"
“Well, you said you were going to fuck off to heaven! I thought I’d never see you again!”
Cas visibly gritted his teeth and said, “Then once again you underestimated how much I would give to stay by your side for all of time.”
Dean’s face burned so hotly he could feel it all the way up to his ears. He cleared his throat and shuffled uncomfortably as he tried to come up with something to say.
Cas gently said, “I never wanted to leave you, Dean, but you’d given me no reason to think you wanted me to stay.”
Dean ducked his head. He knew that he was being unreasonable. He knew that he was just as much to blame for their inability to communicate all these years, he just…
Cas asked quietly, “Why does the loss of the brand bother you so much?”
“I dunno, man, I just… It just does okay?”
Cas squinted at him, tilting his head in that adorable way he always did when he was trying to work out what the hell Dean was trying to say. “Dean,” He asked hesitantly. “Did you like having a physical representation of our bond?”
Impossibly, Dean’s face flushed even redder. He turned away from Cas, though he knew it was too late to hide.
Cas suddenly appeared directly in front of him. Cas placed a hand on Dean’s chest and shoved. Dean’s back hit the end of the bookcase behind him and before Dean could say more than, “Cas, what the f—” Cas’ mouth crashed into his.
It wasn’t a gentle thing, this kiss was all fire and possession spelled out with teeth and tongue. Dean moaned into it and clung to Cas’ trench coat for dear life.
Cas fitted his hand over Dean’s left shoulder, and a pulse of heat shot from Cas’ hand down to Dean’s core. Dean gasped and pulled away from Cas, suddenly feeling that there wasn’t enough air in the room as stars burst in front of his eyes.
When his vision cleared, he found Cas grinning at him with a wicked glint in his eyes. He said, far too calmly for how hot and bothered Dean felt, “I only healed your skin, Dean. Your soul has always carried the mark of my grace, even when I was human and could no longer sense it.”
Dean’s mind spun.
Cas looked thoughtful. He hummed, “I do like the idea of a physical sign of our bond, though. If you’d be interested, I have an idea…”
*****
Which was how Dean had found himself at a tattoo parlor getting inked up with a mix of regular ink and a bit of both Cas’ grace and a tiny piece of Dean’s soul.
Cas had gone first, finally getting an anti-possession tattoo to match the tattoos Dean and Sam had had for years. His tattoo had an added string of Enochian around it, which nearly matched the inscription Dean was adding to his own tattoo.
Dean glanced down at the glyphs that had once looked so strange and foreign. They twined together over his heart and even though most people wouldn’t be able to read it, they spelled out for all the world to see, “Beloved of Castiel.”
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hi ok so i love following u and seeing ur posts i think u have a good grasp on these characters and ur takes are always super fun to read (also loveing p&p) i was wondering if u have like a list of recommendations for fics that you think everyone should read or that have really good characterization im sorta new here and ive been scouring the internet but its hard to narrow down lol
hiiii thank you!!! I know it can be kinda overwhelming and honestly I’ve barely scratched the surface myself with the amount of fics that are out there, but here’s a short list. i will roughly divide these into dean studies fics and cas studies fics. You can also look through my bookmarks on ao3 here if you want a longer list.
Dean studies:
Head Full of Darkness. Takes place during the widower arc in s13.
r/supernatural. Dean posts about his problems on Reddit. Very funny
Put Up Your Dukes. This is exquisite Dean POV. Cas is ooc in this imo but like in a fun way. It’s a very cheesy and fun romantic fic
A Complete Kingdom. This is a horror case fic set after s8 and has an ambiguous but unhappy ending. However I think everyone should read this anyway because the characterisation and dialogue are really stellar. It’s also a really good case fic. Like what if spn was actually scary and also good? It’s more unsettling than scary imo but still. Highly recommend it.
HOW TO: BUILD A MAN. This is a fun trans dean fic!
I will just generically recommend xylodemon. They have a lot of good one shots and I’ve liked most of their stuff!
Cas studies:
So Says The Sword. A foundational text in the fandom and it deserves the praise it gets. Cas is tasked with watching over Dean in the Green Room/Beautiful Room in s4 over the course of about 2 years. Reading about two guys being stuck in a room together during the quarantine gives it an extra kick.
Same Ghost Every Night. Cas listens to Dean’s nightly prayers in Purgatory.
the doorway to a thousand churches. Cas POV during the Naomi brainwashing arc in S8. It’s really good
walking on a string. Cas takes breaks from fighting a civil war to fuck Dean silly in various motel rooms
you’re holy to me. VERY explicit smut so be warned but this fic fucking rules
Angels Americana. This perfectly captures s4/s5’s vibes of an apocalypse in modern america. Not strictly a cas studies fic per se but it has very epic vibes.
my heart a compass. best 15x18 fix it fic I’ve read (though I haven’t read many. still this fic is very good)
Until the Breaking of the Day. Vintage destiel fic from 2009. This could go in either category but I like the angel stuff in it and it’s pretty funny
climb down off of the cross and change your mind. bitter casgirl human cas s9 fic. It’s a real good time
the reach of human sense. Cas is upset Dean can’t see his true form. i LOVE this fic. I’ve recc’d this author several times by this point in the list. Everything I’ve read from them has been really great!
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eridan for the ask game :o)
1 ] Favorite thing about them.
Gosh, that’s hard to say! There’s the way he gives everyone he doesn’t know very well a nickname based on their appearance rather than admit to not knowing their moniker, ( I don’t think he does it to be quirky. I think he’s just genuinely bad with names. ) but then there’s also the insinuation in his introduction that he has wizard imaginary friends. .u.
2 ] Least favorite thing about them.
Probably the racism not going to lie.
3 ] Favorite line.
CA: wwho are you tryin to convvince wwith this ludicrous poppycock
TT: ?
CA: magic is NOT REAL
CA: wwhatevver youre doin its not real its somethin else outright entirely
CA: its fancy and impressivve and all but its not the fuckin figmental storybook claptrap you wwanna make out like it is
CA: so howw about you get off your high skyhorse
4 ] brOTP.
I love writing interactions for Eridan and AradIa!!! ^u^ I invented an entire AU for the sole purpose of them being ghostbusting bros, which I’m currently writing a fic on the back burner for! In all my other AUs I try to have them be friends or at least have a conversation! ( examples being discstuck, housestuck, wwildwwildw-Eststuck, y muchas otras ) I also think ErIdan and Rose hanging out is fabulous!! I’ve written numerous ficlets centered on them geeking around. I believe they’d both enjoy dIscworld and eventually warm up to one another over their shared interest in it! ( ErIdan gets his hands on the first six of the original human series via the test subject of one of Roxy’s failed window transportalizer experiments hitting him on the head one afternoon. )
5 ] OTP
Definitely araerisolfef! UuU
6 ] nOTP.
Anything with Cronus. Fuck that guy. =n=
7 ] Random headcanon.
He has severe eczema on his hands, and his rings serve more than a performative purpose! 0u0 by adorning his fingers ErIdan protects patches of his skin from further deterioration while looking glamorous to boot! uvu
8 ] Unpopular opinion.
I like him! .u.
also, 🏳️⚧️
9 ] Song I associate with them.
Why pick one song when I’ve got an entire playlist? :U : https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4Blheej0uOdnhs1KSz0K63?si=Wc3oDst6Tay_-15TdhmKbg&dl_branch=1
10 ] Favorite picture of them.
Definitely this sprite I drew for a fan game! ^u^
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Descarada’s Fic Recs Part II: More Witcher Rarepairs
My niche as a writer may be Geraskier (and Jaskier x Eskel) but I read everything and I want to boost writers of rarepairs that I love.
This is from a ficrec series. Here is the masterpost, with a list of upcoming rec posts.
These fics have about 60-800 fics on AO3.( I previously did a post on extra rare rarepairs with 1-60 fics on AO3)
Please scroll down for the ficrecs for:
Geralt x Regis
Lambert x Aiden
Geralt x Eskel
Yennefer x Tissaia
Jaskier x Yennefer
DISCLAIMER #1 Please check the tags on the fics. Our triggers and preferences will be different.
DISCLAIMER #2 Please do not be discouraged if I don't recommend your fic. It doesn’t mean I didn’t love it. My brain is a sieve and space is limited. Treat this as a starting point only. I encourage you to reblog and add your own.
1. The ship: Geralt x Regis
Why I love this ship.
Regis is an elegant, genteel, vampire who can turn dangerous and deadly at the drop of a hat. He is kind, sex positive, and chugs his respect women juice. I mean THE BEST. And doesn’t our Geralt of Rivia deserve the best??
Regis is a monster that Geralt is theoretically supposed to kill. But he loves him instead. That’s classic and good.
Geralt being with a ‘monster’ frees him from the burden of being treated as the ‘other’ in respect to humanity.
Geralt adores Regis so much that he doesn’t even realize that Regis is a vampire for like 88 pages. (Wow, what a great graveyard this is, Regis. Wow, you know so much about vampires, Regis. I like this herb smell you’ve got going, Regis.)
Geralt, who has a hard time trusting, trusts Regis completely.
Regis shows that he is willing to sacrifice anything for Geralt (and by extension, Ciri).
So look, you get the BEST OF BOTH WORLDS. You get the drama of enemies to lovers (witcher + vampire) along with the comfort and softness of friends to lovers.
The fic: I Came Here Without A Choice, by @merulanoir
Why I love this fic
It is the canon-setting, Geralt x Regis of my dreams: a quiet, gentle burn of: we swear this is casual, to a deep, genuine friendship, to a profound love.
Their dynamic is teasing and warm and safe, in spite of the occasional angst.
The sex scenes are so incredibly well done. 🔥
I was the human equivalent of key smashes and sobbing emojis several times over.
It follows them through the books and games, but you don’t need that background to follow. Canon deaths are QUICKLY resolved.
But if you really don’t want to be spoilered for books or games, check out the one shots below.
Recs for further reading:
Falling by Firelight, by @caffeinatedmusing Geralt kisses Regis. Regis finds out that Geralt has little fangs of his own. 🥺
From Different Perspectives, by @snuckybarnes on AO3. Vampires have glamours that fade when they begin to trust someone. So why does Regis still look the same to Geralt? (So sweet)
From the Wisdom of Bards by @rallamajoop Geralt asks Dandelion why he’s been dreaming of Regis. Hilarity ensues.
2. The ship. Geralt x Eskel.
Why I love the ship:
My favorite ship dynamic of all time is childhood friends => lovers. Why? Because our component parts: love, pain, betrayal, powerlessness, shame, are at their most potent, feral, and savage in childhood.
When you know someone then, you know their raw materials. Can anyone be more seen? And if that person has seen that and still loves you? What could be more affirming?
Now, Geralt and Eskel. There are few things so achingly sad in fiction than characters who are the last of their kind. It is comforting when they find love and companionship with each other.
Childhood friends to lovers only gets more profound in the presence of severe childhood trauma. When I think of the horror of The Trials, I really get in my fucking feelings. The idea of either of them being alone through it is too horrible to ponder. So I want them to comfort each other. And for that friendship to grow into love? Oh god. I just. I love that.
They strike me as a pair who can be quiet with each other, who can sit somewhere and whittle or look at the fire, and never have to speak.
They would understand each other without a word, and no matter how long they are apart on the path, it would be like no time has passed when they reunite.
The fic: breathe into my hands; i'll cup them like a glass to drink from, by @inber
Geralt is nervous about the additional rounds of trials and Eskel comforts him. Explicit.
Why I love this fic:
Their chemistry is so achingly sweet and nervous and their friendship is so evident.
The writing is evocative and vivid. (Inber is always fantastic)
Geralt has a loving and safe first experience, which my god after everything he goes through he deserves such a thing.
Eskel is the way I like Eskel. Protective and gentle.
Further recommendations:
@djarining has a series of ficlets with moments from their youth. Her writing is beautiful and makes your heart ache.
Love Looks Not With Eyes by @rawrkinjd . I cannot fully express how much I love this one. Eskel is a flower fairy and lives in a garden. Geralt and Ciri move into the house.
Stones by @madamemeduse is a sweet, touching ficlet about Geralt coping with his worries about Eskel.
@bawdybean has a longfic Finding Center that is a work of love for Eskel, and is endgame Geral/Eskel. It is sometimes incredibly heartbreaking because it follows videogame lore including the sacking of Kaer Morhen, how Eskel gets his scars, and times when Geralt is with other people. It is also full of heart, vivid emotions, character development, memorable oc’s, and incredibly well done sex scenes.
Honestly, it pains me to stop listing fics, some of the best writers in this fandom write this ship. So all I can say is...go forth and find more.
3. The ship. Lambert x Aiden.
Why I love the ship:
To explain this ship, we have to start with Lambert, the youngest Kaer Morhen witcher. He is known as being the angry, smartass one who is resentful of being a witcher, and you know what? He is ONE HUNDRED PERCENT CORRECT. Being made a witcher was not a fucking favor. It was an atrocity. And it also means that his only support system (Geralt, Eskel) is inextricably tied to some of his worst trauma.
And who is Aiden? In the game, Lambert says that Aiden was the best man he’s ever met (to Geralt! A damn good man himself!), and he spends years trying to avenge Aiden’s death.
So how did Aiden, this cat witcher with ambiguous ethics, who no one else seems to have known, inspire that kind of consuming, undying, devoted love in crusty ass Lambert, even after his death?
We don’t know. But it’s compelling. It compels me.
So we imagine it together. Aiden occupies a liminal space between canon and fanon.
Aiden is a witcher, but he is from a different school, so they have intense commonality but also it gives Lambert some space from his past.
I just love watching closed off Lambert melt like an angry little icicle in the spring.
I love when fic writers have them call each other pup or kitty. IT’S CUTE, SUE ME.
The fic: Be Alive while I'm Here, by @imperfectkreis
Lambert and Aiden compete on the same contract. One wants to kill the ogre and one wants to lift the curse. Over the course of meeting up again and again, Feelings Occur. (Explicit)
Why I love his fic
It gives me the meet-ugly I crave with Lambert x Aiden.
Lambert’s development of feelings is gradual and believable.
Aiden teaches him other ways to be a witcher. He validates his anger. He encourages him to forgive himself and accepts him for who he is.
Aiden swaggers, and teases, and challenges Lambert, until one day Lambert realizes...uh-oh
By the end, oh Lambert is in love and it's beautiful.
Additional recs:
These Are a Few of My Least Hated Things, by @stfustucky Please, even if you don’t normally read modern AU, I beg of you give this fic a chance. The wolves run a bakery called Kaer Morsels and Lambert is in charge of making the rude and bawdy pastries. Aiden is a delivery guy who throws him for a loop. Their dynamic imagined so beautifully. It’s funny and heartwarming and insanely sexy.
I don't look for trouble, trouble looks for me!, by @lynge81 Lambert x Aiden meet on the path and fight monsters together and fall in love. It has all the humor and banter and feels I look for in these fics. You can tell that Lynge is super passionate about these characters, so the way they are developed is distinct and done with love.
Fun and Games, by @dapandapod Sweet, adorable, first kiss one shot.
Explicit, scorching hot ‘reunited and it feels so good’ fics:
Spring Thaw , by @crimsonherbarium
If You're Gonna Mess Me Up (Don't Do It Slow), by @writinglizards
4. The Ship: Yennefer x Tissaia
Why I love this ship.
Sometimes being a queer woman means that I am trash for intense complicated fictional wlw relationship. It also means that I’m extremely attracted to Tissaia de Vries. So here we go.
Tissaia and Yennefer are so similar in some ways (passionate, stubborn as fuck, resilient), so they have this connection. But the gulf of their differences are so vast that their bond reshapes the other on a fundamental level.
I find that dynamic rich and fascinating.
Tissaia is unbelievably stubborn, strong, and resilient. But in a way, she has always colored within the lines. She runs an educational institution, which is inherently ‘within’ a system of power.
Yen matches her in passion and stubbornness but is also rebellious in a way that Tissaia has never conceived of. Tissaia sees her rebellion as selfish at first. And Yennefer sees her clinging to the power structure as weak.
But their connection is so strong and profound that they are able to reshape the other. Yennefer sees that working as a team to save innocent lives is meaningful. And Tissaia ultimately chooses empowering Yen over controlling her. She helps her become the hero she was meant to be.
LET YOUR CHAOS EXPLODE. That moment DID THINGS to me. Their chemistry was electric.
The fic: And If I Recover (Will You Be My Comfort), by kapua on AO3.
With Tissaia’s health and life in the balance, they find the courage to say things that they’ve needed to say for awhile. (The AO3 doesn’t list a tumblr)
Why I love this fic.
SO MUCH BEAUTIFUL YEARNING.
It’s tender, sincere, soft, and sexy.
It is everything I wanted for them, and gives me closure for the battle of sodden.
The writing flows and is just full of warmth and affection for the characters.
Writer has so much Yennaia, including an adorable one where Tissaia is a librarian and Yen needs to use the printer.
More recommendations;
Sliding into Her DMs and Her Heart by @jzxr7 Tissaia is a senator and Yen is a movie star who drunkenly hits on her via Twitter. It’s amazing. This writer has SO MUCH great Yennaia, including several creative modern AU’s like this.
Some super hot PWPs in canon-verse.
Is this supposed to shock me?, by @magicsophicorn Tissaia walks in on the magical orgy instead of Geralt, and teaches Yen a very sexy lesson.
Yennefer the distraction, by tissaias_piglet on AO3. Yen keeps distracting Tissaia at these council meetings.
Whispers, by @lovefoodmusic Disturbing Tissaia’s work has some very sexy consequences.
5. The ship: Yennefer and Jaskier
Why i love this ship
I can’t resist a rivalry that melts into love. A heap of bitchiness just barely obscuring a chaotic, passionate love.
Maybe some people even still think they hate each other because of their banter. But then someone harrasses or hurts Jaskier, and Yen turns that person’s dick into an eclair.
Then they make out.
So yes, I love the banter and chaos potential. HOWEVER, I ALSO love the potential for softness and affection. Yen has a similar thing to Geralt where her trauma and abuse has caused her to shut people out. I love the idea of Jaskier melting that.
So really, this ship can be anywhere on the range of hilarity, hate sex, or achingly gentle healing love. (Some fics nail all of these at once) It’s versatile, babes.
The fic: so tight i'd bruise you, by @ric0cheted
Why I love this fic.
Mainly, because the writing is so good it makes you want to punch something. (Not from anger but from an excess of love)
It’s rare that a fic writer can get both voices SO SPOT ON that you can SEE them as you read. (Believe me, as a fic writer, this is difficult. We are almost always noticeably better at one or the other.)
It nails Yennefer’s protective hostility being slowly but surely chipped away. It requires you to read between the lines a bit because it’s from her perspective. And that’s half the fun.
You feel so deeply for both of them: Jaskier, who thinks he has fallen first and is terrified of showing it and being pushed away. And Yen, who has also fallen but is terrified of vulnerability and is denying it until the dead last minute possible.
It is part of a two part series, but I started with this, the second part. I had done a search to exclude Geralt tags because I really wanted to read about JUST the two of them, (which, unsurprisingly is actually kind of difficult to find) and this one came up. I realized afterwards that it is technically sort of pre-poly but it focuses on these two so much that I’m putting it here. (I’m doing a separate poly-rec post)
More recommendations:
I Found a Home in Your Touch, by @unremarkablegirl This is short one shot with sunsets, comfortable silences, and hand holding. It’s a warm blanket for your soul.
i made it through the wilderness, by @some-stars Jaskier accidentally reveals that he had a horrible first sexual experience, so Yen roleplays a do over. This one will sneak up on you with a (loving) punch straight to your feels.
Your body, like sugar and spice, by @feraljaskier Jaskier gets pegged and he loves it 🔥
the poet's wish, by @limerental I have already rec’ed limerental for Yengilla, but their 100k slowburn Yenskier enemies to lovers is the most ambitious AU for Yen x Jaskier (no Geralt related jealousy or heartbreak. Just the two of them with their own story) in the fandom. And it’s beautifully written.
So, that was a few of the extra rare rarepairs and fics that have caught the attention of this humble multishipper. Again, I know sometimes people don’t like rec threads because people feel left out. I am a writer too, and ofc I know that feeling. I just think it’s still worth it to do. What else are we going to do? Never hype each other???
So help me add to it and rb with your fic, or your fave if I missed it.
Witcher dividers by @firefly-graphics
#the witcher#my ficrecs#geralt x eskel#geralt x regis#yennefer x tissaia#lambert x aiden#yennefer x jaskier#yenskier#ficrec#yennaia#lambden#laiden#geskel#geregis#geralt of rivia#emiel regis#eskel#yennefer of vengerberg#jaskier#lambert#witcher aiden#tissaia de vries
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Thing that has hit me the most with the most recent episode isn't just the confession alone. It's everything. Dean letting out those faint sobs, his head going into his hands. It's fan fiction. I think that's the biggest reason I have not been able to settle my shock just yet. I've read plenty of stories and I've read the codas, and there just isn't that much of a difference to what is really happening now. I'm just - pure shock. It seems like something I would read and not ever get to see.
Yeah you hit the nail on the head nonny.
It was fanfiction right before our eyes. I say that with the utmost respect because fanfiction to me is a sacred and beautiful art and one that should never EVER be mocked. Some of the most beautiful stories I have ever read have been fanfiction and I hope that Bobo Berens takes it as a compliment when I say that what he wrote is the most amazing beautiful piece of fanfiction I never ever would have expected to see on the actual show.
I have lost count of how many times I have read fics where Cas confesses his love and have cried, got emotion, just felt my heart leap into my throat kind of WOW reactions. To see that kind of confession play out on screen in the actual show between the actual Dean and the actual Cas. To see my actual angel Castiel say those words... well, if you have been following my meltdown since Friday you’ll know I’ve basically been unable to focus on anything else, let alone eat, sleep, or go on with my normal life!
Just lets just look at those words again:
“When Jack was dying I made a deal to save him, the price was my life. When I experienced a moment of true happiness the empty would be summoned and it would take me forever.
I always wondered ever since I took that burden, that curse I wondered what it could be, what my true happiness could even look like. I ain’t never found an answer, because the one thing I want, its something I know I can't have.
But I think, I think I know now happiness isn't in the having. Its in just being. Its in just saying it.
I know... I know how you see yourself Dean. You see yourself the same way our enemies see you. You’re destructive, you’re angry, and you’re broken. You’re daddys blunt instrument and you think that hate and anger thats what drives you thats who you are.
Its not. And everyone who knows you sees it. Everything you have ever done, the good and the bad you have done for love. You raise your little brother for love. You fought for this whole world for love. That is who you are.
You’re the most caring man on Earth, you are the most selfless loving human being I will ever know. You know ever since we met, ever since I pulled you out of hell knowing you has changed me. Because you cared I cared. I cared about you, I cared about Sam, I cared about Jack. I cared about the whole world because of you.
You changed me Dean.”
”Why does this sound like a goodbye?”
“Because it is.
I love you.”
My guys this is the kind of fanfiction I would read and then probably be like... hmm... maybe it’s a bit... too... much? Who would have ever thought we would get an actual scene on actual Supernatural where Castiel pours his entire heart out just waxing full on poetic about Dean Winchester? This is amazing in every single way. I just had to rewatch the scene to transcribe the words above and believe me I had to pause several times just to stare into the middle distance to check that reality was still in place because it is HARD to deal with all your fantasies becoming reality all of a sudden. I have watched this confession scene several dozen times now, and every. single. time my brain does this DOES NOT COMPUTE thing where I am basically Dean for a moment just standing in shock unable to process that this is real.
This is real. Holy fucking shit. This is real.
#destiel#destiel is canon#im still in shock#its day 6#jesus christ help me#castiels confession#asks#Anonymous
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Incident at Playgroup
2.8k
fluff, established dean/cas, baby jack, human!cas, cas and dean terrorize other parents
dedicated to @thiscastielhasflown bc a few weeks ago we talked about tfw’s mcdonald’s orders and this fic happened. wishing you a good week with schoolwork assignments that only take half the time you expect them to, eventual restful sleep, and good grades <3
also posted on ao3
“Clown!” Jack yelled, pointing at the entrance to the McDonald’s indoor play area. A Ronald McDonald cardboard cutout guarded the door, holding a sign reading, You must be this tall to enter.
“Inside voice,” Dean said, though he wasn’t sure it mattered much when he could hardly hear himself speak. Recently, they’d joined a playgroup of parents and kids from Jack’s preschool, and this weekend, some of the moms had organized a playdate at the McDonald’s in town, one with a huge play area.
Meaning, they were now surrounded by screaming kids, diaper bags, and stressed out parents.
Dean winced as a kid shrieked from across the room. “We need to take a photo of you next to ol’ Ronald to show Sam.”
“Okay,” Jack agreed, jumping up and down in his chair.
Coming over with the tray of their food, Cas put out a hand to steady Jack’s chair. “That would be unnecessarily cruel."
Dean grabbed his Big Mac. “Yeah, well, he deserves it.” Before they’d come here today, Sam had repeatedly told them, quote, “please don't fuck this up again." Always was a polite bastard. “He’s gotta have more faith in us. What are we, amateurs?”
“Unfortunately, I believe that’s the point,” Cas said, sitting down and giving Jack his Happy Meal. “We don’t have the best track record with these sort of things.”
These ‘sort of things’ being playgroups.
So, they’d tried a couple that hadn’t worked out. “Not like it’s our fault,” he said. “Take a seat, kid.” Jack ignored him, jumping in his seat as he waved to another toddler sitting nearby.
Cas beamed, holding onto the back of the chair. “He’s making friends, that’s a good sign.”
“Kid could make friends with a blank wall,” Dean said, but Cas was right—making friends was the whole point they were here. While Jack could make friends with just about anyone and anything—every crayon had a name and backstory, Cas’ trenchcoat was taken on make-believe-adventures, and the Impala could apparently talk, if Jack’s one-sided conversations during long car rides was anything to go off of—it was true that Jack was lacking in the friends-that-aren’t-hunters-or-over-a-decade-older category. There weren’t exactly many toddlers running around the bunker.
Hence, why they were spending their Saturday afternoon at the Hell on Earth known as McDonald's PlayPlace.
Jack held out the bag of apple slices that came in his Happy Meal. “Open.”
Dean stared him down and Jack added, “Peas.”
Close enough. Taking the bag, Dean told Cas, “Don’t look now, but Amanda is handing out brochures for Pampered Chef again.” According to Sam, that was another reason this playdate had to be a success—making friends with the right parents meant getting invited to more playdates and whatever other random events the parents came up with. It was like a weird society Dean had never known existed until Jack started preschool and started interacting with other kids his own age.
“I saw you using the food processor the other day,” Cas said, glancing over his shoulder to look despite Dean’s warning. Dean rolled his eyes. “I think it’s ingenious.”
“I’m not going to another two hour cooking demonstration.“
“Sam said we need to make a good impression.”
“He can go buy overpriced kitchen tools then.” It was a little too convenient that Sam had gotten out of taking Jack to this playdate—Dean had a suspicion that the multiple Ronald McDonalds stationed around had something to do with that.
He tried to hand Jack the apples, but Jack pointed at the play area. “Wanna play!”
“You have to finish your food,” Dean told him. Crossing his arms, Jack glared at him and stomped his foot on the chair.
“Just eat two more nuggets,” Cas told him. He picked up his filet-o-fish sandwich and glanced at Dean. “What?”
“You’re spoiling him.”
Jack stuffed his face with two chicken nuggets, which prompted Cas to give Dean a look. “Well, you’re teaching him bad table manners.”
Just to be obnoxious, Dean shoved half of his burger into his mouth in one bite. Jack laughed at him and Cas rolled his eyes.
“Done!” Jack announced, and Cas pushed his chair back so he could escape.
“These play places are gross,” Dean said, swallowing. “He’s gonna catch a disease.”
“Good thing he can’t get sick,” Cas said, watching Jack clamber up some stairs to reach a slide.
“Yeah, well I can,” Dean retorted. Jack went down the slide with a squeal. Landing at the bottom, he waved at them and Dean waved back.
“The Winchesters are here!” someone called too cheerily and Dean rolled his eyes, turning to see Ashley walking over. Lady thought she ran the group, always recruiting parents to bring snacks and toys to playdates. A little too high and mighty when Dean knew for a fact that the cupcakes she'd brought last week were store-bought.
Settling down into the seat next to them, she asked, “I wasn’t expecting you two today. Where’s Sam?”
Dean resisted rolling his eyes. Of course Sam was everyone’s favorite. Wasn’t his fault Sam was better at feigning interest in grocery lists and laundry piles. Parenting was hard enough without getting subjected to the unique torture of playgroup small talk.
“Him and Eileen went on a weekend trip,“ Cas answered easily and Dean nodded. They’d long given up trying to explain to others why Jack had a rotating list of parental figures accompanying him to playgroup, figuring if the other parents thought they were in a weird cult situation, at least that was better than them knowing the truth—like the fact that Sam and Eileen were away hunting a rugaru in Missouri. Though they were going to run out of excuses soon for why playgroup couldn’t be hosted at their place—an underground bunker with enough weapons to hold off an army.
“Well,” Ashley said, “I’m glad you guys were able to make it.” Yeah, that was a fake smile.
“We wouldn’t miss it,” Dean said, plastering on his own fake smile. “I can’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be.” Cas kicked him under the table.
“We’ve loved having Jack in the group,” Ashley said, and that might not be a fake sentiment. Jack could charm anyone. “Such a sweetheart. Lily adores him.” She smiled at where Jack and her daughter Lily were crawling through a tunnel at the top of the play area.
“Jack, no!” Dean called, seeing Jack stick his fingers in his mouth. “I’m so getting sick,” he muttered under his breath.
He was trying to come up with an excuse to get away as Ashley pulled out her phone to show them a new post on her mommy blog—boring, same old content. Give him a blog and he’d actually have something interesting to say—when he heard familiar crying from across the play area.
Without a second thought, he was pushing back his chair and rushing over, squeezing past playing kids and their parents to find Jack sitting on the floor bawling his eyes out and a bigger kid standing over him.
“What the hell happened here?” he demanded. He went to pick up Jack, but Cas was already swooping in and grabbing him.
“He pushed me!” Jack managed through his sobs, and Dean turned on the older kid.
“What the hell’s your problem?” The kid’s baleful expression faltered. He took a step back and Dean advanced on him. “You get off on making kids half your size cry?”
“Don’t speak to my son that way!” someone exclaimed, pushing through the crowd of kids and parents to glare at them. “What’s going on?”
“Your son is a menace,” Cas told the woman—Denise. Playgroup gossip said her son had gotten held back from kindergarten due to his inability to ‘play nice with others.’ Jack’s crying had subdued to sniffles, but Cas still held onto him like he might break apart. “He was bullying our son.”
“I’m sure it was an accident.” She put her hand on the kid’s shoulder. “You didn’t mean to hurt him, right, Tommy?”
Tommy only glared at them, and Dean glared right back. “He needs to apologize to Jack,” Cas said.
“Tommy, apologize.”
After several long, drawn out seconds, Tommy muttered, looking down at his feet, “Sorry.”
“I don’t think that was a real apology,” Cas said.
“It’s not my fault Jack’s a crybaby,” Tommy shot back.
“You little—” Dean started
“Take that back,” Cas snapped, and if he wasn’t human, Dean would’ve expected his eyes to start glowing fiery blue. Denise’s eyes grew wide, her grip on Tommy’s shoulder tightening.
“Is there a problem here?” someone asked, and Dean turned to see a McDonald’s employee hurrying over.
“Yeah, this kid shoved our son,” Dean said. “And he’s being a little shit about it.”
The employee’s expression turned shocked and Dean heard a few gasps from the parents that had crowded around to see the commotion. “I’m gonna have to ask you to leave,” the employee stammered. “This is a kid’s play area, we won’t tolerate fighting here.”
“We were already going,” Cas said haughtily. He glared at Denise. “And if 'Tommy' ever lays a hand on Jack again, he will be sorry.” Jack’s expression was eerily similar to Cas’ as they shot twin glares at Tommy, and Dean thought he caught a spark in Jack’s eyes.
“Let’s go,” he said, taking Cas’ elbow and guiding him through the crowd of spectators before Jack tried to incinerate the kid. He wasn’t sure if that was one of Jack’s powers or not, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to find out in a crowded McDonald’s. Even if the snot-nosed kid deserved it.
The staff behind the counter was watching along with everyone else in the store, the once noisy place now brought to tense stillness. Cas snatched up the rest of their food and Dean knew they were already on the verge of getting the cops called on them, but he couldn’t resist turning and jabbing his finger at the little brat. “And don’t you ever fucking touch Jack again!”
Cas shot Denise and Tommy another look, Jack copying it over his shoulder, and Dean let the door slam shut behind them.
“I can’t believe the audacity of that woman,” Cas raged, strapping Jack into his carseat. Dean grabbed the wipes and leaned over the front seat to wipe Jack’s hands before he touched everything and spread germs around. “And her kid is exactly the same!”
Jack craned his neck to look back at the McDonald’s as Cas finished strapping him in. “Play!”
Getting into the passenger seat, Cas slammed the door shut. “You will not be going back there, not when those children are around. Dean was right, these play places are vile.”
“You alright, kid?” Dean asked Jack, shutting the wipe container.
Jack kicked his feet against the seat. “Hungry.”
Cas pulled out the container of Jack’s half-eaten chicken nuggets and Dean protested, thinking of a fateful day with a bag of cheerios—he was still finding them in every nook and cranny of the car. “No eating in the backseat.”
“He’s just been through a traumatic experience,” Cas said, handing the container to Jack. “We can make an exception.”
“Fine,” Dean muttered, gripping the steering wheel as he pulled out of the parking lot. “I always knew Denise was shifty. You saw the way she was trying to spin the story, making it out like it wasn’t her kid’s fault? Fucking asshole.”
“Asshole!” Jack agreed cheerfully from the backseat.
“That’s not a nice word, Jack,” Cas said. Quieter, he added, “But it’s accurate.” He pulled out his phone. “I’m gonna send a message to the playgroup chat. Tommy’s behavior can’t be tolerated. Soon all the kids are going to become bullies.”
“He needs to be taught a lesson,” Dean agreed, glancing at Jack as he stopped at a red light, trying not to flinch at the crumbs on Jack’s lap that threatened to fall to the floor. “Needs to get knocked down by someone. Hear that, Jack? We’re gonna teach you how to fight back.”
Jack nodded. “I can fight!” He waved a chicken nugget around in mock punches and Dean gave up any hope of keeping the backseat clean.
“Maybe we can convince the other parents to kick Denise and her son out of the—Oh.” Dean looked over at him and Castiel winced. “We’ve been blocked from the group chat.”
“That makes three of them,” Dean muttered, pushing the accelerator as the light turned green. “We’re gonna end up on some blacklist soon.”
First playgroup, Jack had set a couch on fire. Since the "baby god testing out his powers” explanation wasn’t gonna fly, they went with the tried and true, “playing with matches” excuse. Didn’t stop the group from voting to kick them out.
Second playgroup, Cas had gotten in a fiery debate over the ethicality of beekeeping, and what was Dean supposed to do? Not back him up? He hadn't known you could get kicked out of the zoo for "disorderly conduct."
Alright, maybe Sam’s fears that they’d fuck up this playdate too weren’t completely off base.
“I think it’s time we give playgroups a rest,” he decided.
"But Jack needs to make friends."
"He's already got us, and Claire and Kaia and Alex and—"
"Charlie!" Jack added from the backseat.
"Charlie," Dean agreed. "He's got plenty of friends." Cas only stared him down with a particular smitey look in his eyes, and though Dean knew there wasn't a real threat behind the gaze, he sighed. "Fine. We’ll try again.”
"I already had one in mind," Cas said, brightening. "In case this one didn't work out."
“Done!” Jack yelled.
“Inside voice,” Dean said automatically. “Wait, you had a backup plan?"
“Yes,” Cas said, taking the empty container of chicken nuggets from Jack. “I thought it wise considering our track record. It’s a smaller group than this one was—Here, Jack, you want my ice cream?”
“Dude, seriously?” Dean protested as Cas handed an Oreo McFlurry back to Jack, who excitedly held out his hands. “That’s a disaster waiting to happen.”
“Not necessarily,” Cas said. “I don’t think we’re that destined to fail again—Oh, you mean the ice cream.” He glanced at Jack, who was dripping ice cream onto his lap with every spoonful. “Um. Traumatic experience?”
Dean wasn’t falling for that excuse a second time. He started to say so, but Cas wasn’t listening, picking up his phone as it beeped several times in quick succession.
“What?” Dean asked, seeing a slow frown cross Cas' face as he stared at the screen.
Cas held up his phone to show several texts in a row. “We’re in trouble.”
On cue, Dean’s phone started ringing, the screen lighting up to display Sam’s name. Fuck.
“Sam would like to know why we’re all blocked from the group chat,” Cas said unhelpfully, and Dean rejected the call.
“Good luck explaining why.”
“Maybe the problem is us,” Cas said slowly. He met Dean’s eyes, then they both shook their heads.
“No, it’s those stupid parents,” Dean said.
“And their insufferable children,” Cas agreed.
“Insufferable!” Jack agreed from the backseat, ice cream smeared across his chin. Or that’s what Dean thought he was repeating, the word losing a few syllables along the way.
“Not you, Jack,” Cas said. “Every playgroup would be lucky to have you.”
“Just, they apparently don’t know it,” Dean pointed out. “Or we wouldn’t keep getting kicked out.”
His phone started ringing again, as if to remind him of the fact, and he looked pointedly at Cas. “You deal with him.”
“No, you,” Cas said.
“For fuck’s sake,” Dean muttered. Then he had an idea.
“Hey, Jack, tell Sam about what you saw today.” He turned on speakerphone and handed back his phone, not even caring that Jack’s hands were a sticky mess. Okay, maybe he cared a little, but that’s why the Impala now always held wipes in the glove box.
Jack grabbed his phone eagerly. “Sam!” he crowed. “Guess what I saw!”
Dean caught Sam’s voice over the phone. “What—Jack, hey, where’s Dean?”
“Clowns!” Jack said, waving his ice cream spoon around. “Clowns everywhere!”
“Very mature,” Cas told Dean.
Dean shrugged. “Buys us some time.”
“That’s nice, Jack, but put Dean on,” Sam said. Jack started to give the phone back, and Cas whispered,
“Tell him about the slide.”
“Sam, Sam! I went on a slide!” Dean gave him a thumbs up in the rearview mirror and Jack copied it.
“Dean! I know you can hear me!” Sam yelled as Jack continued on about his eventful day.
“We’re horrible influences,” Cas said, unsuccessfully fighting back a smile.
“Nah,” Dean said. “We’re the best.”
tag list
@becky-srs @xojo @marvelnaturalock @aelysianmuse @prayedtoyou @letsjustdieeveryone @good-things-do-happen-dean @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @theninthdutchessofhell @madronasky @famouspsychicpizzabandit @multifandomdisorder @arcticfox007 @improvedpeanut @castiel-is-a-cat @harmonyhelms @thetrueliesofafangirl @dean-you-assbutt-cas-loves-you @confusedisaster @welcome-to-crowleys-hellhole @celestialcastiel @wormstacheangel
let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from the tag list :)
#expectingtofly writes#destiel fic#baby jack#established dean/cas#fluff#i have had this in my drafts for so long and i finally finished it#ive been dying to write baby jack#or toddler jack i guess in this case#just so i could write overprotective dean and cas#jace if youre reading this hi <3 and i hope i did the mcdonalds fic justice :))
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Cas using Enochian pick-up lines on oblivious Dean. Dean doesn't get them, Cas feels rejected each time, and Sammy is done with it all! Can I have that fic, pretty please?
ah, this has been sitting here for a WHILE, so i’m sorry that i’m trash
lost in translation
---
It begins when Dean is pathetically trying to impress his crush.
Or at least that would be Sam’s take, if Dean cared enough to ask him.
Dean would rather say that it began with a simple misunderstanding, one which could happen to anyone.
He doesn’t ask Cas’ opinion of the situation (and Cas would say that’s the whole crux of the problem).
Whoever has the correct perspective, no one would argue about the beginning of the affair. It starts one afternoon when Dean is contemplating switching Sam’s creamer with buttermilk, just for a break in the monotony. Cas is with him in the library, his customary suit and coat exchanged for a hoodie and a comfortable looking pair of jeans which Dean suspects used to belong to him (there’s something vaguely familiar about that hole in the knee, and it wouldn’t be the first time Cas has pilfered his room for clothing; several of Dean’s shirts have ended up upon the angel’s body. Cas always seems perplexed when Dean calls him on his thievery, plucking at the shirt with faint confusion--Oh this? I found this down in the laundry room a few days ago and thought it looked familiar, do you want it back? And the question is phrased so forlornly that Dean can’t help but allow Cas to steal another article of clothing out from under his very nose.). Cas dresses down these days. And slouches. Right now, his chin is in danger of disappearing into his chest. The sight delights Dean. There for a while, he hadn’t been sure Cas was capable of relaxing.
It’s an overwhelmingly quiet afternoon. It’s nice, because Dean loves to spend time with Cas when there’s no imminent blood or monsters on their horizons, but it’s also boring. Dean sneaks a glance at Cas over the top of his book. Cas seems perfectly content to sit all day reading some godawful thick, leather bound tome. Dean finds himself less than content, but he doesn’t want to leave Cas. He sighs, shifting in his seat as he pretends to read. After a few more minutes, he sighs again, this time with a little more spite in the sound.
(Dean’s about three seconds away from kicking his feet and whining I’m bored, but Cas doesn’t need to know that.)
Cas mutters under his breath. Dean recognizes the guttural syllables of Enochian, which is Cas’ go-to language for when he’s saying something hateful and he doesn’t want to get called out on it. Tough luck for him, though, because Dean’s heard one of those words enough to parse its meaning.
“Did you just call me stupid?” he demands, slapping his book down on the arm of the chair.
Castiel looks at him, his eyes wide with surprise. “You...understood that?” he asks. “You understand Enochian?”
Not in the slightest, is what Dean should say. He understands one word, and that’s only because Cas uses it enough as an insult that it managed to stick in his mind. But something that looks like fondness, and admiration, and other nice adjectives which Dean would like Cas to apply to him, shines at the edges of Cas’ eyes. So he rolls his eyes a little bit (the audacity of Cas! Asking him if he bothered to study something which was not strictly required!) and scoffs, “Uh, kind of hard not to at this point, you know, what with...” He waves his hand at Cas, hoping that the vagueness of the gesture will cover a multitude of sins.
And really, he should come clean. If the past fifteen years have taught him anything, it’s that nothing good comes from lying to your nearest and dearest. But this is just a little white lie. Like when he was sixteen and he told Brandy Fletcher he could play a rocking drum solo, because he wanted to impress her and there was no way he would ever be called upon to perform such a task. This is just a little fib, made so that Cas doesn’t think he’s a fucking idiot.
Plus, there’s something which looks horribly similar to gratitude shining in Cas’ eyes. The emotion brims over until those baby blues can hardly contain it, and Cas looks so goddamned happy. Dean’s not a monster. He’s not going to take that away from Cas just so he can come clean with a Gotcha! moment.
Cas bites at his lower lip, looking uncommonly shy. Worry starts to stir in Dean’s gut, which is only compounded when Cas says something else in soft yet clear Enochian. As the new phrase doesn’t have the word stupid anywhere in it, Dean doesn’t have the slightest idea of what Cas is saying. The guilt squirming in his stomach gets worse when Cas looks at him, with gentle anticipation, as though he’s expecting a reply. Dean does what humans have been doing since the beginning of time when confronted with a language they don’t understand and smiles, wide and sunny, at Cas. Cas’ forehead creases but he returns the gesture. His eyes are still brimming over with emotion and the sight does something to Dean.
Dean begins to suspect that he may have started something which he is not equipped to finish.
---
After that, things get a little weird. Considering Dean’s general life, that’s saying something.
Dean catches Cas looking at him more, like Cas is having a one-man staring contest with the side of his face. Cas staring at him is nothing to write home about, but his looks have gained new intensity. It makes Dean’s innards squirm with worry as well as something deeper. He’s not willing to examine that feeling any closer, though it is pleasant.
As if the soulful looks weren’t bad enough, there’s also the thoughtful slant of Cas’ eyes to worry about. Every time he looks at Dean, he looks like he’s working himself up to something momentous. Since momentous decrees from Cas usually come hand in hand with world-ending events and revelations, Dean thinks he can forgiven for dodging Cas’ presence.
It does him no good: the bunker, for all its space, is only so large in the end, and Cas was once a heavenly messenger who has the patience of millennia. Add that to the fact that Dean needs to eat at least twice a day, and the game of Cornering Dean becomes a game of cards, in which the deck is stacked firmly in Cas’ favor.
Dean sneaks into the kitchen sometime between midnight and two am. If Sam caught him, then he would get a talking-to about the most appropriate times to eat, better digestive function, and the ravages of heartburn in a man his age, but it’s not his brother sitting at the table when Dean flicks on the light.
It’s Cas, who blinks owlishly at him, before his face splits into his brightest smile.
(Cas’ brightest smile is an awkward, crooked little thing. On a regular human being it would be considered unbecoming. On Cas, it’s a thing of glory.)
“Dean,” Cas greets him. Hearing his voice in that low, rough voice never fails to send a little shiver down his spine, and today is no different. “This is an odd time for a snack.”
“Yeah,” Dean says, a little lamely. The shock of finding Cas in the kitchen has kind of killed his appetite, but it’s not like he can turn around and leave. “Just, you know, had a craving. Why were you here?”
Cas looks around the kitchen, his mouth pursed. “I like it here. It’s peaceful.”
Dean looks at him, waiting for the punchline. “You were sitting in the dark, dude.”
“Oh. Well, I don’t need lights to see in the dark,” Cas says, as though the knowledge that his best friend has some freaky see in the dark cat eye nonsense going on with him isn’t the weirdest thing Dean’s heard all day.
“Great.” Dean opens the fridge and pulls out a container at random. He spares one second to hope that Sam got rid of all the moldy food before he samples the contents. “Well, I think I’m going back to my room now.”
He wants to get out of here, not so much because he doesn’t want to talk to Cas (he has no problem with late-night chats with Cas, it’s just that he would prefer such chats take place in his room, preferably in his bed, preferably while both participants were significantly less dressed), but because Cas is starting to get that look again, like he’s getting ready to drop an atomic bomb’s worth of shit on Dean in the middle of the kitchen.
“Dean.” Cas stands up. He twists his fingers together before he realizes what he’s doing, and then places them flat against his thighs. He takes a deep breath. Before Dean can stop him, Cas opens his mouth.
Low, rolling syllables flow through the kitchen, the harsh notations of Enochian softened by Cas’ voice. There’s a question in Cas’ eyes, and Dean would answer it, if he only knew what Cas was asking.
The kitchen falls into silence. Dean gets the distinct impression that walking away is not the appropriate reaction. If only he knew what the appropriate reaction was.
He settles for plastering a fake ass smile on his face and loosing a brittle laugh which threatens to shatter the lighting fixtures. The corners of his mouth hurt from the wideness of his smile, but not even the small twinge of pain can take away from the brief flash of hurt in Cas’ eyes.
“Yeah. You bet.” Dean barely restrains himself from giving Cas a big thumbs up.
Cas’ face, if possible, turns even more disconsolate. Dean’s stomach twists at the sight.
This would be the correct moment to confess. Cas, I don’t have the faintest idea what you said, but I’d really like it if you could say it again in English, so that I could maybe comment on it. Sorry I’m such a jackass.
Dean does not confess. He reaches out and claps Cas on the shoulder, almost buckling Cas’ knees under the friendly contact. Dean almost stops, but he continues to his room, trying to erase the memory of Cas’ stricken face.
---
It gets worse.
Cas says something in Enochian to him the next morning, a tiny, hopeful smile darting across his face. Dean gives him a weak smile in return and tries not to focus on the longing, almost desperate tone of Cas’ voice. “Ok, Cas,” he says, when it becomes clear Cas is angling for something more than a smile that makes it look like he ate some bad tacos.
Cas takes him by the wrist. This time the syllables which come out of his mouth are almost frantic. His eyes are wide and imploring, and his voice cracks on the last word.
The truth, Dean. Tell him the truth.
“Look, I’m sorry, Cas,” Dean says. Confronted by the weight of his failings and his inadequacies, he flees. All the while, he feels Cas’ eyes on his back.
---
It gets worse.
Cas continues to mutter Enochian at him, alternating between frustrated, hurt, mocking, and pleading inflections. Each time, Dean looks at him in a mixture of helplessness and shame.
The last time Cas tries, there’s a faint snap and tingle of grace curling around the room. Dean can taste it in the air, ozone and electricity, before it makes the lamp closest to him spark and pop. “Great, now you’re killing the furniture,” comes out of his mouth before he can stop it.
Cas recoils as though Dean reached out and slapped him. He says something else in Enochian, his voice small and defeated. He won’t even look at Dean.
If Dean were a better person, he would come clean. He would apologize to Cas and beg his forgiveness. He would take Cas’ scorn and irritation and lump it in with the rest of the shit that’s gone wrong with his life, and they would move past this.
Dean’s not a good person. Hell, he’s not even an okay person. He’s a piece of shit who got a hell of a lot luckier than he ever deserved, and Cas is just naive enough not to realize that.
---
It gets worse.
Sam walks into the library one afternoon with a dazed look on his face which means he’s just emerged from being caught deep in a book. He runs his hands through his hair and only then seems to realize that Dean and Cas are sitting at opposite ends of the library, deliberately ignoring each other. The tension in the room is thick enough to cut.
“You guys okay?” he asks, glancing back and forth between them.
“We’re good,” Dean says shortly, flipping a page of his book with unneeded aggression.
Sam flicks his eyes towards Castiel. Cas looks over the top of his book, his eyebrows twisted in a scowl. He mutters something most definitely not English under his breath, staring at Dean.
Sam chokes on nothing.
“You all right there, Sammy?” Dean glances at Sam, only to see that his brother’s face is bright red.
“Yeah, I’m great.”
Castiel says something else in Enochian, sounding more forlorn than angry. Dean didn’t think it was possible for his brother’s eyes to get any wider. “Something you want to share with the rest of the class?” Dean asks. He keeps his eyes on Cas, but the question is meant for both of them.
“I think you two should really talk,” Sam says, looking back and forth between him and Cas. “I think you’re both missing some information.”
“What do you mean--” Dean pauses as the obvious answer comes to him. “Hold on. You can understand him?”
“Don’t talk about me like I’m not in the room,” Castiel says, proving that he can speak English just damn fine when he wants to. Then, because Cas is an asshole whose main job is torturing Dean, he mutters something in Enochian.
Sam snorts.
If he didn’t know he would later regret it, Dean would put both of them in the ground.
“Well, if you want someone to talk to you, then knock it off and speak English!” Dean snaps. “I’ve got no idea why you’re babbling on like that and looking like I kicked your puppy when I don’t answer.”
Cas scowls, the full wrath of Heaven in his eyes. He starts what sounds like it will no doubt be a lengthy tirade (in Enochian of fucking course), before he’s interrupted by Sam.
“Dean doesn’t understand Enochian, Cas!” he shouts.
Two pairs of eyes snap to Sam. Dean’s are filled with furious betrayal, Cas’ with frustrated confusion. Sam ignores them both, rolling his own eyes to the ceiling. “Yeah, look, I’m sorry to cut in your drama or whatever, and I’m sure that you two could keep this up for another three weeks, but I value my sanity. Dean, nut up and tell Cas you don’t speak Enochian. Cas, stop running into a brick wall and tell him what you want. I mean, good God, it’s like I have to do everything around here myself!”
Sam’s complaining never ceases as he peruses the shelves for the particular book he’s looking for. Both Dean and Cas are referred to multiple times as idiots, sometimes assholes, and once even idjits. Throughout his litany of abuse, Dean and Castiel refuse to look at each other, though Dean does feel a telltale prickling at the back of his neck several times. Every time he looks at Cas, however, the angel has his eyes firmly fixed on his book.
Dean wonders if Cas would get more pissed if he told him his book was upside down.
“You ever think about how much pain and agony you could save me if you two assholes would just talk to each other?” Sam finally snaps. Arms laden with books, he levels a fearsome glare at the both of them. “For homework, neither of you are coming out of this library until you’ve actually talked to each other like rational adults. And if you make any weird noises, I’m going to smother both of you in your sleep.”
He stalks out of the library, leaving Cas and Dean alone once more. Cas looks up from his book, finally realizing it’s upside-down, while Dean puts down his own book. They stare at each other for a long moment, then speak at once.
“Why didn’t you tell me you didn’t understand Enochian?” “What were you trying to say to me?”
They stop. Dean swallows, gathers up all of his manly courage, and speaks.
“So what were you trying to say to me? It must have been pretty exciting to get Sammy clutching his pearls.”
Cas tilts his head. He considers Dean for a long moment before he crosses the space between them. Cas leans forward, putting his hands on the arms of Dean’s chair. The gesture boxes Dean in, a turn of events which Dean doesn’t struggle against.
“Why didn’t you tell me you didn’t speak Enochian?”
Pinned beneath Cas’ gaze, Dean squirms uncomfortably. Now that it’s just him and Cas, his deception seems childish. Would it really have been the end of the world if he’d told Cas he was too stupid and selfish to learn his language? It would have just been another disappointment in Cas’ life, but has it been worth these past few days of being at odds with Cas?
Heat flushes along the bridge of Dean’s nose as he mutters, “I wanted you to think I was smart.”
Damn super-angelic hearing. Cas doesn’t miss a beat, though his forehead creases. “You wanted...what? Dean, you are smart.”
He says it so naturally, as though Dean doesn’t struggle over translations or speaking Latin or cross-referencing indexes or any of the thousand other things that seem to come naturally as breathing to Sam and Cas. “Yeah, sure, I’m a regular fucking genius,” Dean mumbles.
“You’re capable of finding the problem with a faulty engine with a single look. You built your own EMF meter out of a spare Walkman. Despite your efforts to hide it, you’re very well-read, and you have an innate understanding of some fairly complicated mathematics. I’m not sure exactly what humans qualify as intelligent, but I feel as though all of those skills count.”
Dean knows his whole face is red. Heat prickles along the tips of his ears and down his neck. “Jesus, Cas,” he mutters. Unable to withstand the force of those blue eyes, he darts his glance down towards the floor. “Most people don’t start sweet talking until the third date.”
“Well, I’m an angel,” Castiel says, smugly, as though that solves every argument (not a bad strategy; that line’s worked for Cas for years. What else can you say after that?).
“All right, I answered yours, now you answer mine. What were you trying to say to me?”
Amazingly, Cas’ cheeks color.
“Come on, Cas,” Dean wheedles, when Cas doesn’t immediately answer. “I told you mine.”
Cas looks off to the side. He actually shuffles his feet before he answers, “It was just a thought. I thought, maybe, we could...Never mind. It was stupid.” He looks back at Dean and rolls his eyes, showing how ridiculous he finds this whole trial. “I guess, roughly translated, it would amount of something like ‘If only he were as decisive as he is pretty, then there would be no problem’.” He forces a weak laugh. “I said it in the heat of the moment. I was frustrated.”
Dean blinks in astonishment. Only one fact has managed to slip through the tangle of Cas’s words. “You think I’m pretty?”
Castiel’s blush deepens. “Anyone who has eyes would think that,” he says, a little roughly.
An automatic flush spreads across Dean’s cheeks, but he’s able to ignore that. He’s much more interested in what else Cas might have been telling him. “And what was something else you said?”
Cas coughs. “’Your eyes are bright as the sunrise, yet they fail to see what is in front of them’,” he says. If possible, his already rough voice has deepened.
“Another.”
Cas doesn’t pretend coyness. “’You had my heart from the first time I saw your soul’,” he says, in a near whisper.
Dean can’t hold himself back. He snatches Cas’ hoodie in his hands and drags Cas down to his level. Cas lets out a surprised grunt before he gracefully collapses atop Dean. He’s barely managed to balance himself on Dean’s lap before Dean’s lip are on his.
Despite Dean’s rushed actions, the kiss is sweet and almost chaste. Cas’ lips are warm and chapped and utterly wonderful. At first, they’re stiff, but only for a second. Then Cas relaxes into the kiss, sighing happily as his hand cups Dean’s cheek. Cas’ stubble scratches against his chin. He’s going to bear the marks of Cas’ affection later, and he couldn’t be more thrilled about it.
Cas parts from him, but not far. In fact, he’s close enough to Dean that when whispers a phrase in Enochian, his lips brush against Dean’s.
A shiver of delight runs down Dean’s spine. Now that he knows the gist of what Cas was trying to say to him, Enochian fills him with illicit glee. “What did that mean?”
Cas kisses him again, adding a cunning sweep of his tongue across the seam of Dean’s lips. “’Of all the stars in the heavens, you shine the brightest’,” he translates, resting his forehead against Dean’s.
Heat floods through Dean once more. It’s everything he ever dreamed of hearing. It seems impossible that he could have it. There should be a rule against it. Dean Winchester doesn’t get what he wants.
Except, apparently, Dean Winchester does get what he wants, as evidenced by his lapful of angel murmuring Enochian endearments into his ear. “Hey Cas?” Dean tilts his head to catch Cas’ eye. “When I first saw you, sparks flew. How would you say that in Enochian?”
Cas thinks for a second before a smile spreads across his face. “I’ll teach you,” he promises, before he pulls Dean’s face towards him once more.
(Sam’s warning about making weird noises makes a lot more sense now.)
#destiel#destiel fanfic#destiel fic#deancas#deancas fic#dean winchester#sam winchester#castiel#canonverse fic#fluff#dothwrites
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merry christmas you filthy animals < 3 here’s a little tiny baby samcas christmas drabble as a treat since I can only write anything that isn’t my actual proper fic apparently. anywho, read it on ao3 here, happy holidays losers < 3
~~
Sam sighed as he eased onto his bed, quickly rearranging his pillow to sit squarely behind his neck as he reached for the remote. It had been a long day full of questioning unusually spirited witnesses’ and spitting out tinsel after being thrown headfirst into a massive mall Christmas tree by a werewolf who’d embraced the Christmas spirit just a little too much.
He’d assigned himself bedrest as soon as the duffle bag of books he’d used to double check case details had hit the map table, leaving Dean and Cas to their own devices.
He felt a little guilty now as he lay in bed mindlessly flicking through Netflix, not because he’d left them to unpack themselves (they’d done it plenty of times to him, it was only fair) but because he’d left Cas alone on Christmas, defenceless against whatever impish plans Dean had stored in his flannel sleeves. He briefly wondered if Dean would try and pull the whole ‘mislefoe’ debacle again, which last year had resulted in several split lips and a very confusing and awkward kiss on the cheek between Cas and Jody. Dean and Donna thought it was hilarious, and admititley Sam did too. Sam honestly couldn’t think of two people less likely to touch lips in any way than Cas and Jody. In fact just thinking about how Jody had given Cas the strangest little back pat after he’d dutifully kissed her cheek (‘It’s the rules,’ he’d said, ‘though I don’t understand why humans would want to have when they kiss dictated by a plant.’) had Sam smiling at nothing.
He glanced at his door. Maybe he should text Cas? Invite him in for a movie that wasn’t one of the too many die hards. Or love actually, not that Dean would ever admit to watching it, and with Jack conveniently questioning him about it after spending the day with Claire last weekend he’d never have to admit it.
Right as Sam went to reach for his phone it buzzed.
From cas: Hello Sam, 🤗 I know you said you wanted to get some rest but Dean’s made some sort of themed drink and I think that it would be a pity if you missed out on trying it due to Christmas tree collision related exhaustion. 🎄😴🛌 Let me know - Cas 😇
While Sam was tempted to instantly text back yes, Dean still hadn’t gotten him back for spiking the eggnog what seemed like centuries ago. Still, it was Cas offering and Sam had faith that Cas would at least be merciful enough to heal whatever instant alcohol poisoning Dean’s concoction inflicted upon him.
From you: hey cas. That sounds great : ) should I come grab it?
From cas: Stay there Sam, ✋ I’m bringing it to you! 🍺🏃
From you: oh! Guess I’ll see you soon, thanks!
Sam shifted to move the pillow more squarely against the headboard trying to make it look more… inviting? Fuck. He stressfully tucked escaped hair strands back behind his ears before doubling the speed with which he was scrolling the suggested tab. He wasn’t sure why he was stressed, it wasn’t like Cas had never stayed in his room before, or used it to watch TV. Sure, they usually weren’t in the room at the same time, and if they were it certainly wasn’t on the same bed, which is what Sam wanted right? He wanted Cas to sit on his bed with him and watch something they picked together while undoubtedly burning taste buds clean off their tongues with whatever Dean had made.
He breathed out slowly through his nose, trying to push away the shameful little thoughts that’d hooked into his brain the moment he’d met Cas. It was Christmas, he could offer his friend a place on his bed if he wanted to. Besides, Cas was the one who offered to bring the drink to him when it would’ve been just as easy for Sam to go and get it from the source himself, and far less intimate too.
Sam let his head fall against the top of the headrest and rubbed a hand over his eyes forcing them shut. He was so focused on the yellow patches fading in and out behind his eyelids that if his door didn’t have an unremovable squeak to its hinges he never would’ve known Cas had come in.
“Sam?”
His head shot up. His eyes wandered from Cas’ lack of shoes to the two mugs he had currently balanced in each hand to the top of Cas’ head as it gave a bemused little tilt. Sam felt himself relax slightly. It was only Cas after all.
“Hey, brought the poison?”
Cas paused for a moment before his eyebrows rose in understanding, “You mean ‘the nog.’ Yes, and I used these mugs because… I’m not sure, they just seemed right.” Cas gave him a small smile as he carefully positioned himself on the edge of Sam’s bed before handing him the mug that had the words ‘Christmas Ho’ printed in bold red letters on the side. Sam had half a mind to snort disapprovingly as he glanced inside the mug, catching Cas rolling his sleeve to his elbow out of the corner of his eye.
Wait a minute. White sleeve? But that would mean- Sam looked away from the blanched looking innards of the mug to the man sitting beside him.
Oh god. Cas wasn’t wearing the trenchcoat.
Sam could count the number of times he’d seen Cas without his trenchcoat on one hand, and he knew that because he’d mentally stored away each moment for reasons he swore were even unbeknownst to him (they weren’t but where’s the fun in admitting that.) After this one, he’d have to start counting with two hands.
“What are you watching?”
“What? No I’m not looking- watching- no I’m, nothing, I’m not watching anything.”
There was a pause as Cas gave Sam a concerned look, his mug almost to his lips. “I can see you’re not watching anything at this exact moment,” Cas started carefully, “But I assume you’ve opened Netflix with the intention to watch something. That’s what I meant.”
Oh.
“Oh! Right, yeah no of course. Um… I haven’t actually decided yet. I was actually going to ask if you wanted to help pick since you were already bringing down the- uh- ‘nog.’ So…”
Cas leant back slightly, “Really?”
“Really,” Sam nodded, “I figure you don’t necessarily want to sit through whatever mind slog Dean’s chucked on for Jack.”
Sam watched Cas’ lips form the strange little sideways smile he did when he genuinely found something amusing. Sam sat a little taller as his spine bristled with pride. He’d made Cas smile.
“No, I don’t think I do,” Cas decided, “It’s very kind of you Sam. Is it okay if I sit on the bed too? I’ve found it’s the best vantage point for the TV you have in here.”
Sam ducked his head and swirled his mug in a way he hoped would come off as nonchalant, “Yeah, course Cas, make yourself comfortable.”
He felt Cas move beside him but refused to watch as he swung his legs up onto the bed and then under him to sit cross-legged with the headrest as support. But then Cas touched a hand to his arm and all his efforts to seem calm and collected went out the window, all he could do was glance from Cas’ shapely hands to the strangely knowing smirk sitting in his eyes. A thumb rubbed up and down his bicep.
“I really mean it Sam. Everything you do, for Jack… For me, It doesn’t go unnoticed. I honestly can’t imagine anyone else who would let such a poor excuse for an angel cavort their room, let alone spend time with them in it.”
“You’re not a poor excuse for an angel Cas,” Sam said, forced into a surprised stutter by the speed of his own response, “I- I mean, you do what you think is right a-and you always look out for your family even if they aren’t always the best at looking out for you. Sounds pretty angelic to me.”
“Maybe,” Cas sighed, turning back to the TV with a quiet sadness Sam longed to kiss from his eyelids. He settled for tucking one of the curls that sat around Cas’ ear back into place, “Besides,” he whispered, “It’s Christmas. Not that I know what that counts for, I’m sure it’s something though.”
“I’m sure it is.” Cas turned back to him, easily looking down at Sam from his vantage point, but Sam didn’t feel small, he didn’t feel the need to sink into his shame-filled bedframe, he just felt held. With nerves of frayed copper he reached his hand out to cover the one Cas had still sitting on his arm in a poor attempt to give Cas the same feeling he was giving Sam.
Sam squeezed Cas’ whole hand before running his fingers along the palm, watching selfishly as Cas responded by simply twisting his wrist to lock their hands together. The remote lay forgotten between them.
“Merry Christmas Sam,” Cas said quietly into the dim winter light of the room. Sam clenched his toes inside his socks, bringing his legs closer. He’d never heard his name said like that before with such… with such… He took a sip of the eggnog and felt his brain further descend into mush.
That was it. He suddenly felt as if he’d never heard his name said before. The TV hummed in wait. Cas took a sip as Sam watched him, a welcome warmth emanating from his shoulder against Sam’s.
Sam leaned closer and whispered in the same hushed tone Cas had used moments before, “Merry Christmas Cas.”
#samcas#sastiel#castiel#sam winchester#fanfic#fanfiction#spn#spn fanfic#merry christmas#yes I wrote and posted this all in one day (the day of christmas)#and what about it?#im highly disorganised but thats life babbbyyy
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Works relating to to Supernatural (2005-20) that have done me permanent psychological damage, a non-exhaustive list
Charting my decline for my own entertainment when I look back on this in a couple of years. I think originally I thought I might keep up a semi-ironic log of SPN episodes I was watching a la this post, but almost immediately after posting that, I started watching episodes too fast and also went too genuinely insane to be able to do so. Anyway, this is mainly a resource for future me if I ever want an uncut shot of the weird serotonin I've been experiencing over the last few months. Possibly a case study for anyone who's wondering what the fuck's happened to me recently. Blanket apologies to most people I know.
there's an angel on my shoulder, in my hand a sword of gold by @xylodemon
[s9. sexy telepathy? i think i read this in JANUARY. i barely knew what i was looking at but unfortunately i knew i was into it.]
There's a Design by @dsudis
[s4. recced to me as a 'strategy fuck'. extremely good early seasons vibes.]
ringtone ed. @calamitysong
[deancas. hard to pick one thing that tipped me over the edge into actually being in this fandom, but this is a strong possibility. for some reason the dam just broke. glad it was while watching this video about mobile phones.]
How Still My Heart by @morethanslightly
[post-s8 divergent. dean and newly-human cas try to get his grace back. as i read this fic with increasing speed and urgency, i felt myself being dragged into a pit from which i gradually realised i would never return.]
Bestie ed. @katebushstandean
[deancas. the experience of watching this and not knowing what the the chorus was about to be cannot be recaptured.]
Epilogue by Jayne L
[endverse. 2014-cas is sent back to 2009. this fic sent me blind. every week or so i have a little think about it and then i go blind again.]
abbey ed. @peternureyev
[castiel. the memory of watching this vid at 1am and feeling my soul drift gently out of my body will stay with me always.]
So Says The Sword by komodobits
[s4-5 divergent. cas is not the angel who pulls dean out of hell, but he is the angel set to guard him until the apocalypse begins. now when i see particularly good s4/5 posts on this website i catch myself quietly thinking 'mm sosaystheswordnatural']
a turn of the earth by microcomets
[pre-series/time-travel divergent. late-seasons cas gets stuck in pre-series dean's timeline. never been cockblocked so badly by a fic as i was halfway through this one. don't let that put you off. (they unblock.)]
Somebody To Love ed. @katebushstandean
[dean. the RESTRAINT of not bringing in cas until the song's final act... the torment, the ecstasy...]
Bottled by @the-omnishambles
[s9 divergent. dean goes to collect newly-human cas while sam's in hospital. essentially a full, careful, delicate story stemming from several conversations about the fact that if dean had seen cas drink that bottle of water in 9x01, he would have had a meltdown.]
machine ed. @false-heavens
[castiel. yes i love stuff about cas becoming human but i also love stuff about how much he's NOT. he's a freak]
The Way You Didn't Go by @gravelghosts
[s15. coda to the trap; dean finds out about the pseudo-future in which cas takes on the mark of cain. despite barely having a clue what's going on in s15, this fic made me feel particularly bonkers. not sure why]
Big and Chunky ed. @the-omnishambles
[dean. personally hatecrimed by the use of the casifer clip halfway through this.]
In the Shadow of your Wings by Enochian Things
[post-s11 divergent. i read the first chapter of this to try and understand why i kept seeing posts about cas's italian boyfriend. then read all the other chapters with wide mad eyes and obviously i would now die for cas's italian boyfriend. please contact me to talk about luca moretti]
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Fanfic year in review
I’m just gonna start with this:
That’s how much fic I wrote and posted in 2021, and all but about 2k of that was for SPN. That’s how much this show has given me severe brainrot.
1. What’s your favorite story this year? Not the most popular, but the one that makes you the happiest.
There Are Roads Left in Both of Our Shoes for reasons I already talked about here. But basically, it’s the longest fic I’ve ever managed to complete, my first time doing a Big Bang of any kind, and I really poured so much of myself into it I’m still kind of suffering from writing burnout as a result, lol. (But hopefully I can recover enough to get my draft for the DCSB done over the coming month...)
2. Okay, NOW your most popular story.
Adoration and Lamentation - though I think that’s mostly after commissioning and adding @sketching-fox’s incredible artwork to it! But hey, if getting an amazing artist to do a piece for one of my favorite stories I’ve written will bring it more attention, I’m happy for that! It is kind of hard to get a foothold in this fandom, coming in so late as I did, so a little extra promotion is sometimes necessary to get any attention :)
3. Story most under-appreciated by the universe?
I Only Have Pies For You - Granted it was my first time writing both SPN and The Good Place, but I had so much fun writing this story and I still think I managed some clever ideas with dropping Cas and Dean into TGP’s universe.
4. Story that could have been better?
Again I sort of answered that here as my least favorite story, but Dirty Life and Times - because I just found it a lot harder to adapt the soulmate trope to canonverse Dean/Cas than I’d anticipated it would be.
5. Sexiest story?
I guess for sheer volume of smuttiness, There Are Roads Left in Both of Our Shoes, the story with so much sex in it Dean probably needed some magical viagra but, well, I still stand by the fact that freshly human Cas would be horny as fuck and so would Dean after all that time of repression and denial.
6. Most fun story?
I Only Have Pies For You - I mean, I got to write Cas battling spirits trashing Tahani’s garden party and Dean and Eleanor bonding, what is more fun than that?
7. Story with single sweetest moment?
I’m gonna have to go with Crowley meeting Jack in The edge of the woods. Because it kind of came out of nowhere, I hadn’t even been planning on that happening, but as soon as the thought came to my mind that whole scene just wrote itself.
8. The story that made you cry?
There Are Roads Left in Both of Our Shoes - Writing and editing the last chapter (epilogue) made me cry every damn time (if you haven’t read it, no it’s not tragic sad, just a bittersweet happy-sad thing, I promise! Of basically letting a child move on to the next stage of life knowing they’ll come back to you some day, but...yeah, I’ve had people tell me it made them cry, too, so I know it got across what I wanted it to.)
9. Hardest story to write?
(until) you give yourself to him - was kind of tricky but I think it worked in the end? I was trying to juggle a lot of balls with this one: a background case, Dean developing a different kind of “addiction”, and working in some trueform weirdness into the smutty bits. It changed a lot as I was working on it, and I was so thankful for @kimannebb‘s help here convincing me it was making sense and not too out there.
10. Easiest story to write?
I could almost pick any of the 200-500 word ficlets I wrote for slashthedrabble for this, as most were quick one day writing exercises. But of all of those the one I think came to me the fastest and clearest in my mind was Come Rest on Us.
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Finding Him
AU!Dean x Reader
Warnings: Kidnapping/taken, angst, mentions/implications of rape, mentions of blood, gruesome I think, maybe. (If I need more warnings, I’ll add them. Not sure what I need for warnings right now) I would recommend to being at least 18 to be safe.
Summary: Dean doesn’t come home from a supply run. Sam and the Reader find the Impala, but no Dean. Who would take Dean? Why? Clock’s ticking.
Word count: 2,400-ish
a/n: Inspired by a fic called Lost by @talesmaniac89, only I switched the roles and the whole premise of the story in comparison.
Finding Him Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Mobile Masterlist
~
His vision blackened by the dark hood that covered his head.
“See boss, I found him, one of the Winchester boys.” A male voice says. As if he were expecting a prize.
“Yes, I see that, you were also to get his little brother you nitwit!” another man shouted.
Dean could hear growls in the distance. Meaning he was dealing with more than just one monster. Also, what kind of monster?
“But doing this draws out his brother. Once he is out and about, I’ll get him.”
“You better, but watch out for his mate. I hear she’s feisty.”
Y/N, they knew her as well. But she was only with the brothers for, not even, 6 months now.
“Why again are we doing this? Why don’t we just swarm their base now? I mean, we can use his scent to lead us there.” A female voice was heard this time. She sounded rather annoyed by the whole situation.
“Because, it’s her I want.”
“Why?”
“She’s a half-breed. First of our kind. Her mother was human. They say half-breeds are weaker than their pure bred counterpart. But I beg to fucking differ!” the boss man got furious at a memory.
Y/N’s a what? Dean thought. He could only huff against the gag in his mouth that was tapped in by duct tape. His hands were bound by all kinds of bindings. Rope, tape and even chains. These werewolves took precautions to prevent Dean from escaping or fighting back.
Y/N must have done something to piss this guy off. He thought.
“Just bring the other Winchester, Lure this bitch out. I want her now!”
“Sam, I found the impala but no Dean.” She said into the phone.
“Store clerk said no one was following him in the store. So it must have happened outside of the store on the way home.”
“I don’t like this Sam, who would take him and why?”
“I don’t know. Come swing by, pick me up and I’ll drive Dean’s baby home.”
“Sure thing, then we’ll get hunting for your brother.”
She hung up the phone. She could smell it. It’s faint but it’s werewolf. Maybe it’s time to come clean about her lineage to Sam. It might help in finding Dean.
“So you’re a half breed. Half human, half werewolf? How’s that possible?” Sam asked. Not a hint of malice in his words, no hint of anger or hostility in his body language.
“My mom was human. My dad was an alpha werewolf. But my mom died giving birth to me. I never really had a mother. But there’s this other pack, my dad went rogue on them when they started killing humans. He’d kill his own members to save humans.” She explained.
“Your dad sounds like a good man.”
“He was. Then his alpha found us. Tried to take me. He fought back. Or, tried to. I managed to get away. But in the woods I could smell my dad’s blood. He kill him. I’m more than sure, he’s the one that took Dean. He’s trying to lure me out.”
“He really shouldn’t underestimate the Winchester way of doing things.”
“What do you have in mind, I do see those wheels in your head turning?” she asked.
“We’ll need Cas’s help. I’ll even see if Bobby or any of the apocalypse hunters are up for some fuckery.”
She smiled, what does this guy have in mind, must be awesome.
Weeks pass.
Sure he’d feed Dean, give him water even. But the alpha has a plan. And it’s not a great one.
He’s building an army.
“It’s my daughter, Alpha. She’s presenting, and I feel she is suitable for bearing a half breed.” Said a woman behind the door.
“Once she is fully presented, we’ll put him to work. And soon she will bear a half breed. Because if that bitch won’t come to me, we’ll come to her, with an army to boot.”
Dean swallowed thickly.
Already several scared girls had come in, he was forced to impregnate these girls. In hopes of making werewolves just like y/n.
He’s not dumb, half breeds are not as weak as people or other monster claim them to be. Because of their human counterparts, they don’t give up.
“How many have we made so far boss?” the same wolf that kidnapped Dean asked.
“9. Nine half breeds. And 5 of us. Two omegas, one beta, and two alphas. The half breeds don’t even need to present. That’s the thing we need to research further.”
“I’m sure our doctors in the sandy hills would love to look at them, and this girl of yours.”
“I’m sure. But, she’s mine. Mine to tame, mine alone. I’ll make an omega out of her.”
“You want to see what offspring you and her would produce?” he asked. Seeing his masterplan now.
“We need an army. Those British hunters already got the drop on us and have killed most of ours. But now, with us being mostly half breeds. We’ll see how much of a match we are to them.”
“Impervious to silver. But they’ll die like any normal human.”
“Maybe so. But we’ll train them in combat. We will win this.”
His comrade nodded.
A low growl could be heard from y/n as she paced the library.
“Weeks Sam, it has been weeks. We need to find him.”
“I know, Bobby’s trying to round up everyone.”
“I can feel them doing something to him, it’s not good. We need to hurry.”
“Like what?”
“I can’t describe it without making you feel uncomfortable. But it’s not good. Let’s just put it at that.”
Sam’s phone rang. Caller ID, Bobby.
“Hey, Bobby, whatchyou got?”
“Sam, bring your girl and come to our hide out. It’s getting bad out there.”
“Bad, bad how?”
“We’re out numbered. The amount of werewolves is growing. More than what we can keep up with.”
“Okay, we’ll pack what we can and meet you out there.”
Sam hung up.
“What’s wrong?”
“Their numbers are growing.”
“I told you it was bad.”
“What are you saying?”
“He’s making an army of half breeds. Like me. And he’s using Dean to help in that process.”
“You mean, he’s forcing these wolf girls to rape my brother?” Sam asks, growing sickened and angry.
“Yes. Which is why we need to hurry. Let’s just go where we need to go. I’ll tell you what we can do to win.”
“Great, not only are you like a human, but impervious to silver. So our bullets and knives won’t kill you.” One of the male apocalypse hunters fumed.
“So how do we kill them?” Meg asks.
“Just like how you’d kill any human. An ordinary weapon. But don’t injure them. Or Don’t waste time on the kill. They…we can heal quickly.”
“You have to have some kind of weakness.” Bobby says.
“Well, we’re not totally impervious to silver. I learned that the hard way from you hunters.” She says. “Just before I met Sam and Dean, I ran into a hunter. He learned of what I was. And tried to kill me. His silver blade slashed my arm. I had this nasty looking infection. But really it was poison.”
“Dean brought you back, and we healed you up.” Sam added. She nodded with a sad smile.
“That’s why you didn’t tell us. You were afraid we’d do that to you.” Sam says. She cast her gaze to her feet, fiddling her hands at her waistline. She felt Sam’s hand at her cheek. Coaxing her to look up at him.
“You had our backs, you saved Dean from shifters and wendigos. You saved me from vamps and werewolves. Cas from angels. Hell, even our own mother from a number of monsters. We wouldn’t have hurt you darlin’.”
“When he saved me, Dean. I imprinted on him.”
“How’d you…”
“I’m not sure. He felt safe. I felt safe. It was after he saved me, I’ve been able to feel what he feels. Know exactly where he was. Or is. Some say imprinting anyone, a wolf or human, is done by sex. But we didn’t do anything. He just held me. Safe in his arms.” She explained.
“Could be that. Could be a soul thing.” Bobby says. “Soulmates.”
Sam and Y/N nodded.
A moment passed. Y/N shook her head out of her thoughts.
“We need to get Dean back before the Alpha kills him. When he deems Dean no longer useful. I can, feel him. He does feel far. But I’m sure I can find him.”
“Well, let’s do this. Bobby, you, and the hunters try to get their numbers down. Kill as many as you can. Y/N and I will get Dean out of there. Then after—”
“I’m killing that Alpha, once and for all. More lives are in danger with him alive.” She growled.
Sam could only nod.
A shot rang out.
“All the guards outside are half breeds. Aim for the head.” She ordered the hunters that came along.
Shot after shot rang out.
She took in their scent. They weren’t that old, freshly presented. She stared at them in confusion. Half breeds don’t present. Unless a certain gene allows them to present or not enough research went into half breeds.
“Sam, you and I we need to move in. now.” She ordered. Sam nodded.
“Keep them from entering.” She told the hunters.
“Sam, let’s go!”
And they ran their way inside.
“Get the human!” the alpha ordered.
Dean, looking a bit rough from weeks and weeks of rough sex, little food and water and no sleep. The wolf picked him up by the collar, Dean grunted against the motion as his hands were bound behind his back since the day they brought him in here. His wrists have been cut up and bloodied from his struggles.
“I’d be happy to rip his heart out for ya boss.” He sneered.
“NO!” The alpha shouted.
The wolf shuddered.
“He’s mine.”
He threw Dean at the Alpha’s side.
Dean landed on his side with a hard thud and grunt. He was too weak to play the tough guy. Too weak to give a witty comeback.
He just laid there, waiting for his death.
Sam, preoccupied by other wolves in the warehouse as Y/N walked into the Alpha’s Domaine. His den, his ‘Throne Room’. He stood on a balcony meant for loading large machinery. It had no railing on one side.
She could smell his blood. Causing a growl to emerge deep within her chest. Her fists clench so hard she could draw blood.
“There she is.” The alpha growled.
“Here I am. Do you want to end this or should I?” she asked. Glaring down at him.
“You dare talk like that to your Alpha?” he growled.
“You are not my alpha, I’m no one’s alpha. You are a murderer.”
“Now, I’d beg to differ on that. You killed your own kind.”
“I have two kinds. Human and wolf. Humans seem a lot better than you.”
He growled at her remark.
“You mean, like this human!” he pulls Dean up by the collar. His sheer strength alone allowed him to hold Dean in the air, hanging him by his collar. He hung him over the ledge with no railing. Intending on letting him either hang to his death or drop him.
Her heart dropped.
Dean kicked, trying to get free. He began gagging for air.
“He’s weak, just like your father was. Your father was infatuated with a human and it weakened him. He was my right hand man!” he shouted.
She tried to keep a good poker face going. But Dean’s eyes began to roll as he was loosing more and more air.
“You are just like him. Infatuated with a human.”
“Let him go.” She says. Demanding.
The Alpha cocked his head, cocking an eyebrow, smirking. Oh, she thinks she’s going to have it easy. He thought.
“Please, I’ll turn myself over to you willingly. But you have to let him go. Alive!” she demanded.
“Hmm, such a tempting offer.” The Alpha says playfully. “But, no. I think I’ll pass.” He says.
He repositions Dean so he could easily wrap his hand around his throat. She could tell he was squeezing the life out of him, he kicked furiously, desperately trying to get free.
I hope this will work. She thought.
She darts, climbing up a stack of crates leading up to the platform.
She managed to get on the platform without him noticing. She could see the color to Dean’s face changing. His eyes rolling.
A fire burned in her eyes. He’s not going to take him from her.
With her claws now drawn, she forces her hand through the Alpha’s back and through his chest.
He can see what looks like silver nails on her claws.
The impact causes him to drop Dean.
He drops on to his back with a hard thud.
The Alpha gags as the poison from the polish is coursing through his veins.
“You really should have taken the deal.” She says. Pulling her hand from his back the Alpha drops dead with a thud. On the concrete ground below.
“Dean!” she gasps. Seeing him not moving.
She rushes to him, cutting him free. She brings her ear to his mouth. He’s not breathing.
“No, no, no. Dean, please.” She begs.
She works him over her shoulder as she get’s him to a more flat surface.
“Dean!” she heard Sam shout.
She laid Dean flat on his back and began doing chest compressions.
“Sam, Bobby, we need to get him help.” She begs as she worked on him.
“Cas!” Sam prays out loud. “Cas, if you hear me please, we need you to save him!”
“Cas!” she adds on. “Please, I can’t lose him!”
“Sam, Y/N.” Cas says behind her.
“Cas, help him.” She begs. Her eyes blurring with tears.
“I will try.” He says.
He places two fingers to his forehead. Only to see limited injuries healed. But Dean took in a deep, much needed, breath.
Cas falls back, weakened.
“I do not have enough grace to heal him completely. My grace has been depleting lately. Once I am fully regenerated, I’ll heal him again.” Cas says.
“Thanks Cas, it’s something.” Y/N says. “Let’s get him home.”
~
Part 2
What’d you think? Want more? Let me know either by ask or reblog. Remember, feedback is fuel.
~
Dean Girls:
@pandazombie69, @luci-in-trenchcoats, @supernatural-jackles, @becs-bunker, @jayankles, @mlovesstories, @winchesters-favorite-girl, @akshi8278
~
Copying and reposting someone else’s content is plagiarism and illegal. This work is property of supernaturallyobsessedchic. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher. An electronic reference link to the original posted work may be provided for purposes of promotion or assistance of publication by the readers discretion, if proper credits are given to the author in the re-post. 2/8/2021
#spn#supernatural#spn fan fic#spn fanfic#spnfanfic#supernatural fan fic#supernatural fanfic#supernaturalfanfic#spn fan fiction#spn fanfiction#spnfanfiction#supernatural fan fiction#supernatural fanficiton#supernaturalfanfiction#dean x reader#deanxreader#dean x reader fic#dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester fic#dean winchester x reader fic
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First line
@envydeanwrites Thank you for the tag love <3
Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. Then tag 10 of your favorite authors! (All Destiel)
1. Dean exhales softly as the sack is removed from his head. The light emanating from the naked lightbulb is harsh and he blinks several times as his eyes adjust. Something hard is invading his mouth, making it impossible to speak.
Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?
2. You thought if you handed over your body
he’d do something interesting.
But it was the same old.
Something interesting
3. The path to love may have been anything but straight but now that Dean finally has Castiel he's not letting him go.
They do mundane things together, like Castiel making him coffee in the mornings, going through lore books in the library, or playing Scrabble.Dean has read somewhere that love is transformative, divine, or some bullshit like that, and he's always rolled his eyes at that.
Grace
4. Dean has been a hunter too fucking long to ignore his instincts. And even though the monster hunting is way less intense these days, he still listens to his gut. And his gut is telling him something is up.
Mother Superior
5. Dean remembered the last time, and while he'd been proud of his achievement, the timing really hadn't been great. He'd not been in the right headspace – how could he – with Chuck the cosmic dickbag breathing down their necks but this time was different.He glanced at Cas. Everything was different.
Fourth Birthday
6, Castiel had been in many less than desirable situations, some of them could best be described as embarrassing, especially for a warrior of the Lord but this had to take the prize. Although much had happened since Castiel yanked the righteous man out of Hell – meeting Dean Winchester had altered the trajectory of his life completely – this was a first.
Castiel was knee-deep into shit.
Soil
7. Dean finds the box three weeks after moving in. He hasn't been avoiding the attic, it's just that he didn't have any reason to be up there after storing away the last two boxes that contained his art supplies.
A box is a box is unorthodox
8. I love you.
Dean presses rewind.
I love you.
Six months
9. Not all angels were in the fiery depths of Hell trying to save the Righteous Man. Some had to stay back on Earth and keep their eyes on the humans.
Salathiel was one of those, living a quiet suburban life in a small town in Mississippi.
The Infinite Eyes Perceive
10. The windmill stands tall
Meadow (a haiku)
11. Dean knows it's the right spot as soon as he sees it.
The windmill is old, had stood there for so long that nature has reclaimed it. Long vines make their way upwards, climbing as if trying to reach the stars.
The Meadow
12. There's something about the air, Dean thinks. He inhales deeply and can almost taste it; the salt settles on his lips and invites him to take another breath, encouraging him to try and quench something that seems insatiable.
Lull
13. Dean opens the church doors slowly, not wanting to disturb anyone that might still be praying. Outside, night shrouds the city but the many lit candles inside the church cast a warm and welcoming glow, trying hard to banish the darkness.
Dean knows from experience though that darkness is usually found inside.
Kenosis
14. Dean crosses his arms. “I don't know.”
Castiel looks at Dean, a smile playing on his lips and that could've been innocent but Dean doesn't miss the glint in his eyes.
Prompts: Adventure
15. The first time it happens, Dean isn't even aware that it is happening.
It's not his fault that Cas wears his shirt sleeves rolled up; it's a fucking invitation for Dean to trail his fingers up Cas' strong arms. On the way down, he uses his nails and rakes marks on his skin; red welts that'll vanish as soon as they appear but the sounds Cas make are ones of pure lust.
The Destiel Disasters: Interruptions or when Sam sees too much
16. It's quiet.
Dean eases into the black leather armchair that's backed up in one corner of the library. He takes a pull on his beer and puts it down on the small table next to him.
The Bunker
17. “Do you want me?” Cas' voice is a growl but still, he's restraining himself. He touches Dean, always, but Dean wants more.
He'd laugh at Cas' question if he wasn't busy being destroyed with want.
Veneration
18. Cas entered the kitchen on heavy legs.
He was still not used to how much sleep he needed but he couldn't deny that sleeping had its charm. Waking up next to Dean, tightening his hold around him and nuzzling close to his neck, inhaling that scent that was all him, that alone was worth all the hours of sleep.
Their Love Was Real
19. Dean took Cas' hand and grinned before kissing his knuckles. “It's Sunday. You know what that means?”
Johnson
20. Dean has been on edge all day.
Scratch that, he'd been on edge for days. First, they'd been all the way to Asheville to dust not one, not two, but three damn vampire nests.
The Lesson
I notice I start a lot of fics with Dean lol, besides that I write long sentences but try and wary the length I think. My fav opening lines are from Kenosis I think, it really sets the mood for the entire fic.
I’m tagging just a bunch of people I <3 Feel free to join. @deans-jiggly-pudding @raidens-realm @anastiel @helianthus21 @kingdumbass @ltleflrt @nickelkeep @lotrspnfangirl @wanderingcas @thegertie
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@sambambucky : “pls... Pastels, Peaches and Pain??? among us first draft??? marvel meets warframe meets a bunch of tumblr posts (it’s not an au!?!??!)
hi jo !!! Pastels, Peaches, and Pain is one of those sambucky wips i have mostly fully fleshed out in my head because of one (1) extreme moment of clarity after a rogue ‘what if’ tangent thought but havent written anything of yet out of restraint / knowing i need to finish at least one of my current sambucky wips before i start it or none of them will get done
this was the rogue tangent thought: “what if Sam is haunted by Figaro’s ghost and has been since he was a kid?”. i’ve changed the ghost cat to not be Figaro but that’s the premise !
i refer to the fic as the cat fic ‘cause the whole plot is based around sam’s ghost cat companion insisting he adopts nat’s cat Liho after endgame and then Figaro later and then [insert redacted because plot spoilers but just know it relates to Alpine]. no im not projecting my feelings about cats idk what youre talking about
here’s some note snippets just for you:
the cat, inexplicably, takes a liking to bucky, which is really annoying bc sam doesnt know how to explain to him that all the oddly soft gusts of wind are actually sam's dead cat insisting on getting pats
bucky getting shade thrown at him by said ghost cat during all of tfatws + them making up (and not out. yet)
starts when sam's a kid & follows him as he grows up w/ a ghost kitty as a companion only he can see & interact with + angst with an undertone of comedy + getting together
he whispers to ghost kitty, who simply mmrrs happily
for the among us first draft thing, what basically happened is i saw this tweet and this video and my brain latched onto these dynamics so hard i had to write about them.
here’s a sketch of my two main imposters, Black (left) and Cyan (right):
and here’s a snippet:
The thing having Cyan pause and stare out at the asteroid field is how the colors stretch to family. When they and Black came aboard, they had thought every crewmember was an adult working on the planet-change project. That the patch of off-white with a black something-pattern-or-shape signified status. In a way, Cyan supposes it does, but just not the way they expected. They had expected it to show what rank an individual held within the hierarchy of the crew, from deckhand to division leader to captain, not to show that you're family of the crew and not actually part of the crew itself.
There are innocents on this ship. Children. It was not something any of them had anticipated, and not something Cyan had been prepared to deal with. They and Black boarded this horrible place to eradicate a threat, believing each and single one of the humans were accomplishes and dedicated to the goal of destroying Cyan and Black's species, and their planet. But, now?
marvel meets warframe meets a bunch of tumblr posts... doesn’t have a wip title or seperate document for itself yet cause it’s been stuck in my ‘story ideas’ document since its creation. so ‘marvel meets warframe meets a bunch of tumblr posts’ is literally just me describing the vibe of an original world gjkerfkds
the world came to be for two reasons. firstly, i want to do make take on a superhero universe because the plot and complete lack of communication in both the dcu and mcu piss me the fuck off. secondly, needed a place to dump ocs with elaborate backstories or fantasy / sci-fi abilities that dont fit into any of my existing worlds
which sounds super competent but trust me, it isn’t. it didn’t gain any solidity at all until i decided to do a personal ‘how different can i make spn castiel look & still retain the same vibe?’ challenge. i have my own cas now
however, the reason i said ‘marvel meets...’ is because i’ve snagged a couple of different things from the mcu, most notably: enemies to reluctant coworkers to lovers, yes our best friend have the same name. no they’re not the same person, secret evil org is controlling the government, and the assassin that tried to kill you several times is now your best friend
warframe was added to the world because i got attached to my Volt build, gave them a name, and have some headcanons idk what to do with because i refuse to interact with that fandom. also because the friend i made through discussing warframe lore + plot dicked me over so it feels Bad to create for
the glue to this whole mess is that one “in every friend group there’s a mean bisexual, an even meaner lesbian, a she/they, a he/they, a himbo, an astrology bitch, a short king, and a token straight” tumblr post. my main group of superheroes ala the avengers consist of these people. the token straight is the only one i havent figured out who is yet
ever since i figured that out ive been throwing story / character ideas and weirdly specific aesthetics from popular tumblr posts into this world’s notes. here’s some examples:
sword grandmas
that trope where someone’s really nice and acts super well-adjusted to society but then they do something super whack and dangerous and you realize ‘oh they’re secretly a little bit insane, actually’
anti-gay group’s leader’s wife leaves him for another woman
superhero who swore to be the best hero [city / planet / solar system / continent / ????] has ever seen ever since he lost his wife. not because she’s dead but divorce just sucks & the hero-to-be is terrible at coping
dishevelled swamp witch
that one person who runs around with an amulet all the time & isn’t aware it’s cursed
an exasperated, tired superhuman assassin running after their husband and their husband's best friend. their husband and said husband's best friend both have wings. chaos ensues (yes, this one is a sambucky post)
ask me about my WIPs!
BONUS:
@sambambucky : #i want to have a coffee and listen to synopses of all of these.... #i miss the discord wow #WRITING TAG #waitttt time jumping dream movie? lmao I'VE READ THIS LIST FORTY TIMES and every time i rediscover something i wanna know about #outfit doodlesss ugh i need to go
couldnt not respond to your tags because they make me go ghrkjfnerknf but in the good way. we miss you too jo !!
the time jumping dream movie was one of the first vivid dreams i had and the whole thing was so stupidly coherent and whacky i had to write it down. it grew plot, a queer love dynamic, weird sci-fi apocalypse elements, anti-military propaganda, questionable science, and a sequel while i wasnt looking and now i just. have to make it a real movie or i’ll combust
outfit djoodlles.png is only on there because my best friend sent me a ‘draw this outfit’ meme and space kitty, my current character brainrot, stole all the outfits for himself. otherwise, that file just sits there until im feeling like designing an outfit or wanna see how a stupid thing looks on my oc patrick
here’s one of the two poses-to-doodle-outfits-on of space kitty ive made so far:
and here’s one of those stupid things on patrick (that then turned into an actual outfit of his because i have no self control):
#.jax speaks#.my art#.my writing#tysm for the interest jo !!!#if you have literally any questions or if youre serious about the synposes thing...#i love rambling abt my stupid brain people#i WILL answer all your questions#even if the answer is 'good question! ive got no clue'#.patrick mortensen#.space kitty#.pastels peaches and pain#.the among us thing#.marvels meets warframe meets tumblr posts#.time jumping dream movie
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