#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

[roonyxx]

The Raven: Part 1

Summary: A new threat to the world brings the boys back in action. She is big and bad, very bad. But is everything as it seems or is there more to her story?

Pairing: Dean x reader

Trope: enemies to lovers

Word count: 1600

Chapter warnings: none really for this chapter, maybe some language.

A/N:  This will be a series I wrote for @holylulusworld​ 15.555 spin the bottle followers celebration! My trope is Secret Crush!

The Raven Masterlist

My Masterlist

Dean Pov

I should have known that we can’t get one week without another bad guy waiting for us.

Well, bad woman this time.

“What’s her name again?” I ask Cas who just appeared in the bunker to tell us about a new threat to the world.

“We don’t know her real name, but they call her ‘The Raven’” Cas answerers.

“Not ominous at all…” I sigh.

“What is she?” Sam asks Cas.

“An ancient type of witch is what we suspect.”

“Suspect? So even Heaven doesn’t know this psycho chick ?”

“No, she has stayed under our radar for a long time, we have no record of her kind, or when she was born or where she came from. It is as if she didn’t exist before last week.” Cas says as he scans our bookshelf and pulls out an old book and starts leaving through it.

“And what exactly happened last week ?” I ask while I watch Sam and Cas look through the books they got spread out on the table.

“Nothing.” Cas says without looking up from the book.

“Nothing ?” I ask, hoping he will clear it up more.

“Heaven detected an immense blast of magic, it spread over the entire world.” He explains.

“That doesn’t sound like nothing. What happened?”

No, it sounds like we have another major problem on our hands. I get up to take a drink.

Another major being to take down…

When will they stop coming? Will the world ever be safe, what happens if Sam and I are gone. Will the world just end with the next threat?

I though that now we ended Chuck we would be safe, that we could even slow down a little, but it seems like this Raven, whoever she is, has other ideas.

“We don’t know, we can’t detect anything out of order, or any spells. None of the alarms are going off and there are no apocalyptic signs of any kind so theoretically, nothing happened.” Cas explains.

“Unless she hid it.” Sam says.

“Yes, that’s why I am asking for your help.” Cas looks up at me, “I know you wanted to slow down now that Chuck is gone. But we have never seen anything like this. She is powerful if her range can cover the entire Earth.”

I empty my glass and feel both Sam and Cas’s gaze on me. Weighing me down. The familiar weight on my shoulders feels even harder now.

With Chuck gone, so was the weight. For that short period of time I felt light and free.

But now it is back and it is twice as heavy. Maybe I’m just getting to old for this shit.

“It’s fine” I say, “What’s one more, right?”

“Not only did she cover the entire Earth” Sam starts “She also managed to cloak it from Heaven. I will call Rowena to ask if she noticed anything.”

“Right, you do that and Cas and I will try find this witch bitch.” I sit down with a sigh and open a book and start researching for this witch.

Sam takes out his phone and leaves the room to call Rowena. She might know this woman.

“So Cas, what do we know about her.”

“In the week we have known of her existence, Heaven has looked into it and found few witnesses of her.”

“Alright, hit me” I say while looking at the angel.

“She was last sighted in the black forest in Germany. A group of hikers saw a woman floating between the trees while chanting in a strange language.”

“Ah yes floating, not creepy at all. I guess she was speaking Latin.”

“Presumably yes”

“Presumably? You didn’t ask them.” I wonder.

“They are dead.”

“What?”

“They were found in the forest, their eyes picked out by some kind of bird.”

“How did you get their confession then?” Nothing he says makes sense.

“In Heaven, I went to them and asked, but no one in Heaven remembers their death fully, it’s to make it less horrible for them.”

“You could have lead with that… so she killed them because they saw her. How do you know she is called The Raven?”

“We found ancient texts about a witch called The Raven. All her victims have their eyes picked out by a bird. She kills anyone that ever witnessed her, so there isn’t a lot to go on.”

“If she kills everyone, how can there be texts about her?” I ask him.

“Somehow word about her spread through lore and bedtime stories to keep children out of the woods. Some people mentioned she sings in the dreams of those who did something wrong. Those who heard the song often died soon after.”

Cas takes an old codex out of his trench coat and opens it on a page with strange symbols and a drawing of a floating lady above the fire.

“Those who did something wrong? She is a vigilante?” Doesn’t the bad guy normally kill the good guys?

“They is no more description about how she chooses her victims. Only that their death is gruesome and marked by the empty eye sockets.”

I shudder when an image of two gaping holes in a head stare at me, flashes before my eyes. Freaking witches…

I look at the drawing of the woman on the old brown page.

She floating above the fire, her arms spread wide. A flock of ravens have tainted the sky black.

Her hair is long and her eyes…

They aren’t there. As if her own eyes have been picked out.

“What happened to her eyes ?” I ask Cas while touching the drawing.

When my finger tip connects to the paper I feel the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. My whole body flares, ready for the fight or flight reaction.

And deep in my mind, all the way in the back, I feel a trinkle of something…

I snatch my hand back from the book.

“Dean?” Cas looks at me, obviously concerned. “What happened?”

“I don’t know.” I feel as if my bones have been dipped into cold water. I slight rub my arm to get rid of the cold.

“Dean?” Cas asks again.

“Nothing, she just gives me the creeps, I hate witches.” I take a deep breath and notice my heart is raging with adrenaline.

She is bad, very very bad news…

“Guys…” Sam steps back inside and his eyes land on the drawing. “Rowena has heard of her.”

“And?” I ask.

“She says to stay away. She never saw or met the Raven but she knew of a Coven who wanted The Raven to be a part of them.”

“Let me guess, all dead?” I say sarcastically.

“Yes, they were tortured, spines extracted and their eyes were gone. Rowena said that among the witches she is known as the Queen of Death.”

“The Raven, Queen of Death. This lady just gets more fun and fun…” I rub my face in annoyance.

Where is the time we just hunted a shifter?

“She said that if we go after her, we’re dead meat walking.” Sam plops down in a chair, I notice he is a little pale.

“What else, Sam.” I ask, he is hiding something.

I can see it in the way he is avoiding eye contact, the ways his hands twitch and his shoulders are hunched.

“She said that if she cast a spell over the entire world, she might be raising an army against Heaven.”

“Against Heaven?” Cas pipes up. “Why”

“Rumors among the witches are going around that she did something. Something unacceptable, and that Heaven will punish her.”

Cas frowns. And it is so weird to see this sort of frown on him. Cas frowns a lot, when he doesn’t understand a reference or an emotion or anything basic human.

But this kind of frown, the one of the soldier that Cas is, the one who spends millennia on a battle field in Heaven.

The one that says he really has no idea what is going on in Heaven or what she did to Earth.

This one frightens me.

“We don’t know of anything that happened.” Cas starts pacing.

“What kind of army?” I ask Sam, seeing that he still isn’t looking at us, that means there is more.

“An army of the dead” he breathes out, “Every single corpse on this Earth will wake and walk under her command.”

“That’s over 107 billion people” Cas says.

“And it’s an army of the dead… they don’t need to sleep or eat or rest. They can go on forever.” I say.

“Exactly…” Sam sighs “This is worse than Chuck.” He says.

“I need to go back and prepare immediately.” Cas says, he sounds worried, which is rare for an angel with little emotions. “Tell me if you find anything new.”

He disappears before I can even suggest that we will not get involved in this. But do we have a choice? If we do nothing Earth will become a battle field…

“Guess our little holiday is over.”

“Yeah… Rowena said she would look into it as much as she can. But she won’t risk her life for it.” Sam runs his hand through his hair.

“Understandable, she has her hands full with Hell already.”

“Yeah” Sam takes the codex Cas left on the table and stares at the drawing. “Is this her?”

“Yes, a real beauty, isn’t she?”

He leans closer and touches the page. I look for any signs if he feels the same thing I felt when I touched it.

But he doesn’t shiver or snatch his hand back.

“I’ll read this one. You can look in the German part of our books. Rowena said she spend most of her time in the black forest.”

I get up and take those books.

“My favorite kind…”

“One more, Dean” Sam says to try encourage me.

“Yeah, one more.”

But what if this one is one too much…

#The Raven #The raven part 1 #roonyx #enemies to lovers #roonyxx #dean winchester #supernatural #spn fanfic #dean x reader #dean angst #angst #dean smut

[angelfishofthelord]

while they are yet speaking

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

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

+

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

It hums like a multitude of ang-

It reverberates like the throat of heavenly an-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Click-clack-click.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dean’s eyes fill with tears.

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

Castiel looks at Dean.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Put your fingers out.” Zachariah says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Castiel turns away from the direction of his voice.

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

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

Castiel flinches before the nail even cracks through his marrow.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Take them out. Please.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

All he can do is drop his jaw and scream.

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

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

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

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

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

+

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

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

[interrogatethecat]

let me wander in your garden

word count: 2.8k

written for the prompt garden for @destielmonth. title comes from houses of the holy by led zeppelin. the rest is on ao3 or below the cut!

Cas is back from the Empty, and it’s nothing like Dean thought it would be.

Before Cas came back, Dean thought about what he’d tell him if he ever saw him again. He’d imagined what he’d do, taking the angel’s face in his hands and pulling him in for a kiss, holding him like a lifeline and whispering promises into his ear.

When Cas came back, he showed up at the bunker in the middle of the night, fully mojo’d up, courtesy of Jack. In a far less romantic gesture, Dean brandished an angel blade at him and nearly stabbed him.

Yeah. That kinda killed the moment.

When they’d finally sorted things out and Cas convinced him that yes, it’s really me, Dean, Dean had dropped the blade and fallen forward to catch Cas in a tight hug. Cas stood there, stock still for a moment, before slowly wrapping his arms around Dean.

“You asshole,” Dean told him when they separated. In hindsight, maybe that wasn’t the best thing to lead with. “Don’t you ever do that again!”

Cas stiffened almost imperceptibly.

“I mean it,” Dean said, “No more dying on me, okay? I can’t—“ He took a breath. “Especially after—“

“It’s okay, Dean,” Cas said, shifting uncomfortably. “You don’t have to say anything.”

“But, Cas, I—“

“What did I miss?” Cas cut him off. “Jack didn’t tell me much.”

And that was a rejection if Dean had ever heard one.

He dropped it.

Dean had tried to bring it up a few more times. Cas always changed the subject, or made some excuse to leave. Eventually, Dean took the hint.

It’s been a month since Cas came back. A week since Dean stopped trying to have that conversation with the guy.

Whatever. He’s Dean Winchester. Good things don’t happen to him.

(They never have. Why would they start now?)

It’s been a week, too, since Cas started disappearing every day. For a couple of hours, he slips out of the bunker without a word to anyone. He comes back with hands covered in dirt that he quickly washes down the drain, like he’s hoping Dean won’t notice.

Dean notices. He notices everything about Cas.

Today, he’s sitting in the war room, nursing a cup of coffee while he scrolls mindlessly on his computer. He doesn’t look up until they’re past, but he hears Cas’ familiar footsteps pass by him. “Where are you going?”

“Out,” Cas says.

“You, uh. Want any company?” Dean offers.

Cas shakes his head hurriedly. “No, I’m— I’ll be back soon,” he says, “You don’t have to come.”

I want to, Dean thinks. He doesn’t say that.

“Alright,” he says.

They look at each other for a few moments.

“Alright,” Cas says awkwardly. “I’ll… see you later.”

Dean watches as he disappears up the stairs and outside. The bunker door closes with a heavy snap.

It’s how all their interactions go these days. Cas is distant, Dean is distant, and neither of them know how to respond. But what are they supposed to say? It feels like such a long time ago, and maybe it was, when conversation was easy for them. When they didn’t even have to talk; they could just sit together in silence and be perfectly comfortable. Dean used to move around Cas like it was the most natural thing in the world, and here they are now, stumbling over short, pointless exchanges.

Cas comes back a few hours later. There’s dirt on his hands again. They don’t talk about it. Instead, Cas asks Dean about the soup he made for lunch and they painstakingly pretend that everything is normal.

*

It gets better.

They talk now. Real conversations. About Jack, about whatever Sam and Eileen are up to, what Dean needs to buy the next time he’s in Lebanon, the music Cas has heard on the radio. It isn’t what they used to be, but Dean will take it. Anything but the blatant hesitancy and numbing caution like the first few weeks.

It gets better and he doesn’t try bringing up Cas’ deathbed confession. He pretends not to even think about it.

Instead, he tries to focus on other things. Like wondering where Cas disappears to.

Cas never tells him. He doesn’t shy away from Dean’s questions about where he goes like he did the conversations Dean tried to steer toward before everything happened, but he never gives a straight answer. He never lets Dean go with.

It’s been about three months, now. Mid-March. Cas walks out of the bunker with his trench coat flapping around him.

Dean watches for a few moments, then follows.

Cas is strolling with his hands in his pockets. He veers off the road, off to the side of the bunker.

They make it about thirty seconds before Cas calls out, “I know you’re there, Dean.”

Well, damn.

“Heya, Cas,” Dean says.

“You were trying to follow me.” Cas sighs. Not disappointed, just exasperated.

“Nope!” Dean says. “Just went for a walk. Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Really,” Cas says, disbelieving.

“Really,” Dean says. He winks. “It’s a small world.”

The corner of Cas’ mouth twitches with amusement. “You’re not wearing a jacket,” he points out.

“Eh. I’ve got my flannel. It’s nice out,” Dean deflects.

“Enjoy your ‘walk—‘“ Cas uses air quotes there, “— then. I’ll see you later, Dean.”

And then, before Dean can do anything, he disappears. There’s no flap of wings, though, which means—

“Son of a bitch,” Dean grumbles. “Not fair, dude. Going freaking invisible on me.”

There’s no point in trying to follow Cas now. The guy is impossible to track when he’s gone all H. G. Wells on Dean. He’s undetectable.

Dean stands there as though that will make Cas any easier to follow. Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t. Defeated, he begins the short trek back to the bunker.

When Cas gets back a few hours later, Dean is elbow deep in ground beef that he’s carefully shaping into burgers for tonight.

“Those look good,” Cas comments.

“They’d better,” Dean says. He looks up the patty in his hands.

Cas’ cheeks aren’t pink from the wind anymore (he doesn’t even have to feel cold, but the weirdo claims he likes it). He’s been back for a while. His hands are clean. If not for the mud on the cuffs of his sleeves, Dean would almost be able to believe that Cas has been here the whole day.

He gestures with a meaty hand. “You trip on your nature walk?”

Cas looks down at his hands. “Oh. Yes,” he says. He’s a terrible liar. The mud disappears, like it was never there at all. “It’s nothing of import.”

Dean is even more curious now.

“So,” Dean says, “You see anything cool on your whatever?”

“My walk?” Cas asks.

Dean points at him. “Bingo. That thing.”

Cas gives Dean one of his barely there smiles, the kind Dean hoards like a dragon, that make him want to beam right back. “I watched a hive of bumblebees,” he begins.

Dean nods along, turning back to the burgers as Cas describes their communicative dances.

It’s too early for bumblebees.

*

Cas thwarts every attempt Dean makes to figure out where he goes. Stupid best friend and his angelic powers. Without fail, he always knows where Dean is.

Dean’s almost given up, and then April hits, along with the rain. The smell of it is almost always heavy outside and it’s no longer uncommon for the ground to be wet.

He’s trying (and he’s pretty sure he’s failing) to follow Cas undetected. Between the guy’s sixth sense and the mud squelching under Dean’s boots, he’s unsurprised when Cas turns around and calls him out on it.

“Dean,” he says.

“Yeah?” Dean grins innocently at him.

“You’re following me again. It’s not working,” Cas says.

Dean shrugs. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

Cas rolls his eyes. “Didn’t Sam say he wants the library clean when he and Eileen get back?”

“But Cas,” Dean complains.

Cas just smiles. “I can help later,” he promises.

Dean jabs a finger at him. “You’d better,” he says.

“I will,” Cas says. He turns, and that’s Dean’s cue to stop walking with him. Dean just watches as he disappears into the treeline.

When Dean finally turns for himself, the mud squelches under his boots again. He stops. Turns back around.

Cas left footprints.

Dean heads back to the bunker while a remarkably simple plan forms in his mind.

*

Cas gets back in the late morning. It hasn’t rained yet, so Dean makes an excuse about wanting to go to the store and hurries outside, leaving Cas squinting at his turned back.

The footprints are still there when Dean starts off the road. He follows them.

It’s a winding path that has him stepping over tree roots and second guessing if he’s even on the path. It reminds him a little of Purgatory, without the suffocating way the air hung around him, or the constant, metallic stench of blood that seeped into everything. Here, it doesn’t feel like he’s being watched or pressed in on. It’s just… peaceful.

Briefly, it crosses Dean’s mind that Cas might just be going for walks like this. Then, the trees suddenly thin out, and he steps into a clearing. He stops.

Unlike the rest of the forest, the clearing is bathed in sunlight. Its grass is a jubilant green. And all over, rows of flowers, petals reaching towards the sun in full bloom.

Dean watches a bumblebee meander lazily from one flower to the next. A smile ghosts across his face. This place is pure Cas.

Something like guilts flits through him. That’s exactly why he shouldn’t be here. This place is pure Cas, and he has no right.

He shoves it aside and steps further in. Under the warm glow of the sun, he takes a closer look at Cas’ garden.

By each of his plants, there are wooden signs, each with a hand carved label. The one nearest to Dean is to his side, before a small row of saplings. Arborvitae, he reads, unchanging friendship.

He frowns at it, moving to the next flowers. These ones are a royal purple with bright yellow centers. Bittersweet— truth.

Next is camellias. The sign stands out against their vibrant pink; longing for you.

There are red chrysanthemums, I love you. Marjoram, joy and happiness. Daffodils, unrequited love. Mauve carnations, dreams of fantasy. There are more, but that’s where he stops reading the signs. He knows exactly what this is about.

Every day. Every day, Cas has been sneaking out here to project onto shrubbery because he thinks that Dean doesn’t reciprocate.

You idiot, Dean thinks, how couldn’t I? You said I was the most loving guy you knew and you still think I can’t love you?

Then it hits him suddenly. Cas still loves him. Cas is still in love with him. All at once, all the possibilities he never let himself consider are racing through his head; kissing Cas breathless, waking up next to him, holding hands over the dash in the Impala. He lets himself go back to that wistful fantasy he’d had before Cas came back, cradling his face, pulling their lips together gently, finally telling Cas I love you I love you I love you.

Last time he tried to do this, it didn’t work. Cas shut him down before he could really start (and yeah, Dean calling him an asshole probably didn’t help either) because he didn’t want to listen to a rejection. Cas has shut him down every other time too, whenever he tries to stumble through with words.

Dean is going to do it right this time. He’s going to make Cas listen and he’s not going to use his words, because that doesn’t work. Not for something this big, because what they have can’t be defined with words.

Standing in Cas’ garden, he has an idea.

*

He gets back and Cas is reshelving books in the library.

“Did you get what you needed?” Cas asks when he sees him.

Cas is exactly the same as when Dean saw him last. Still the dorky little guy Dean loves, but now, he knows— really knows— that Cas loves him back.

Dean smiles.

“Yeah,” he says, “I’m good.”

*

It takes an unreasonable amount of time, but he gets his things together. He has to come up with an excuse to use Sam’s Amazon account and ends up becoming friends with Louise, the old woman who runs the florist’s in Lebanon. Finally, though, he’s ready.

Cas is walking past him, towards the stairs. He’s headed to his garden now.

Before he can talk himself out of it, Dean throws a sandwich bag at Cas.

Cas catches it on reflex. He squints at the seeds Dean shoved inside, then looks back at him.

“Plant ‘em,” Dean says. “You know. On your nature walk. To reduce our carbon footprint and all that.” For the first time, he’s glad that Sam lectured him about that.

Alright,” Cas says, frowning.

Dean is painfully aware how out of character this is for him, and Cas is the first person to notice. He notices everything about Dean.

Dean shoves his hands in his pockets. “Awesome,” he says, trying for a smile. “See ya, Cas.” He turns and walks away, leaving Cas staring after him, utterly lost. His heart is thudding painfully in his chest, even though he knows, worst case scenario, Cas doesn’t grow the stupid plants like Dean’s hoping he will. Worst case scenario, nothing happens. This is fine. He’s fine.

Dean hides in his room and jams his headphones on. He’s determined not to overthink this. Or think about it at all.

What kind of an idiot professes their love with flowers their celestial best friend might not even grow? Dean, apparently.

He turns Physical Graffiti up. Again. Not thinking about it.

Dean cycles through the first few songs, tapping his fingers against the dull beige bedspread he’s sitting on. He’s a verse into Houses of the Holy when there’s a thud in the hall. He pauses the music and pulls off the headphones. A hand reaches out to grab the angel blade sitting on his nightstand before he stands to investigate.

Blade held before him, Dean opens the door, and comes face to face with a very frazzled looking Cas.

Dean drops his hand, noise forgotten. “Uh. Hey, Cas,” he says.

“Dean,” Cas fumbles with his words, “I— the seeds you gave me. I grew them.”

“Oh,” is all Dean can get out.

“Did you know?” Cas asks. “About the flowers?”

Dean nods.

They’re silent.

“Did you mean it?” Cas is hesitant, searching his face for something.

Dean takes a breath. “Yeah,” he manages.

“Oh,” Cas says.

“Oh,” Dean agrees.

Despite having a decade of buildup, neither of them seem sure what they’re supposed to do next.

“Can I kiss you?” Dean blurts.

Cas flat out beams.

They’re both verging on giddy when finally, their lips touch.

Dean’s been trying not to imagine this for a long time. It’s better than any fantasy he half came up with, better than anything he might have come up with. He doesn’t really register when he drops the angel blade. Kissing Cas is indescribable. His smile tastes like a thunderstorm and sends Dean’s nerves alight with feeling. His hands find Dean’s shoulder, the back of his neck, and Dean goes willingly. As far as kisses go, this one is fairly chaste, but it leaves every other one he’s had in the dust. It doesn’t take long for him to decide he’d be okay running out of breath if it means he gets to keep kissing Cas.

He only pulls back when there’s a series of crashes as glass shatters and they’re thrown into darkness. The emergency lights don’t go on.

“Dude,” Dean says, trying to cover up his breathlessness.

“Sorry,” Cas says. He doesn’t sound at all like he’s sorry.

Dean can’t help it, he lets out a near hysterical laugh. Sam is going to be pissed, but it’s so fucking worth it. He and Cas just kissed.

“God, I love you,” Dean says. He can’t see the smile on Cas’ face, but he feels it when Cas leans back in.

*

It’s June, and they’re in Cas’ garden. Dean is crouched in the dirt, ignoring his protesting knees as he carefully digs a hole.

The garden has changed since April. Cas has added flowers. There’s more color than there was when Dean stumbled upon it earlier. And now, he and Cas are digging up the daffodils. Their handwritten sign has been discarded. A new one is going in today.

Cas comes up behind him, carrying an armful of their newest additions.

Dean moves to the side as he kneels beside them. They don’t talk as they plant, carefully nestling the flowers in the soil.

He stands up and takes a step back as Cas sticks the new sign in the fresh dirt.

Cas considers it with a small smile. “I think I like these ones better,” he decides.

Dean grabs his dirty hand, content. “Yeah. Me, too.”

Ambrosia, the sign reads. Love is reciprocated.

tag list: @blue-eyed-cutiepatootie @destiel-is-canon-i-guess @theedorksinlove @linaraiscorner @top13zepptraxx @bestiarum @fellshish @gayhuckleberryinatrenchcoat @dune-echo @castielsbeeslippers @floral-cas @ccstiel @starrynightdeancas

let me know if you want to be added or removed :)

#I’m very happy with this one #also!! it’s my 50th on ao3 and I’m unreasonably proud of myself :D #destielmonth21 #spn #dean winchester #castiel #destiel #my writing #my fic

[perlukafarinn]

sequel to this fic (read it for context. or don’t, i’m not the boss of you). i blame @hermywolf for this.

Things were tense for a while. 

Now, Dean knew why he was awkward. He’d offered himself up as Benny’s personal human juicebox and something in his fucked up, wires-crossed brain had gotten so turned on by the act, he’d been about point three seconds away from grinding on his friend like a sophomore at prom. 

He wasn’t sure what to make of Benny or Cas acting so weird.

Benny, and there was no other way to put it, had gotten really touchy-feely. Dean hadn’t realized how rare a non-violent touch was in Purgatory until it wasn’t anymore, until Benny kept putting his hands on Dean’s body, on his back, his shoulder, even his knee as they sat by the fire pit at night. Every touch casual and yet rife with some meaning Dean couldn’t comprehend, and every single one leaving Dean yearning for more. 

And then there was Cas. When he wasn’t hovering over Dean, constantly appearing between him and Benny, he was lingering somewhere behind them, sour-faced and glowering off into the distance. 

So yeah, tense. 

It was the first time Dean was actually thankful for the unending stream of monsters in Purgatory. The near constant combat didn’t leave much time to worry about anything else. Dean was almost convinced that they could get past this whole episode without mention, given enough time and distance and distraction by monsters.

Then Benny had to go and get hurt again.

It wasn’t life or death this time but it was close enough, a lucky swipe from a werewolf nearly tearing a hole open in Benny’s chest.

Cas got to him first again, heaving Benny to his feet and easily holding his weight when it turned out Benny’s legs couldn’t quite support him. Dean got there second, a few moments later, heart pounding as he surveyed the damage.

He met Cas’ eyes.

“Dean, no,” Cas said, catching on almost quicker than the idea had passed through Dean’s mind. “You don’t need to do this.”

“It’s not that big a deal,” Dean said, face growing warm for reasons he really didn’t wanna examine. “You’ll heal me after, right?”

Cas sighed. “You know I will.”

“He’s right, cher,” Benny spoke up. “Gimme an hour or two to heal, an’ I’ll be fine. You don’t gotta do this.”

Dean ignored him, stepping in close and pulling down his collar. “Shut up and let me help you.”

Benny laughed, low and strained. “If you insist...”

He leaned in and Dean closed his eyes in anticipation, one hand grasping Benny’s shoulder to steady himself. It wasn’t enough, the sudden pain of fangs sliding into flesh sending him stumbling against Benny until an arm wrapped around his waist, holding him still. 

Heat stirred in Dean’s gut and he quickly tried to focus on the pain, on the unnatural pull of Benny’s mouth, on his knees still aching from the earlier fight.

It didn’t work. Somehow, the pain just threw the pleasure into sharper relief. It was all too much; Benny’s warmth against his side, his mouth hungry and insistent, his fingertips digging into Dean’s skin as he tried to pull him even impossibly closer. 

Dean opened his eyes and oh, big mistake. Cas was right there, inches away, still holding Benny upright as he drank his fill of Dean’s blood, staring into Dean’s eyes with a look that might almost be mistaken for hunger.

Dean should have looked away but he couldn’t. He felt trapped, pinned down by the monster at his throat and the divine creature staring him down.

A pained gasp escaped Dean’s lips as Benny pulled away his fangs. He didn’t back off completely though, mouth remaining at Dean’s throat as he carefully licked up every drop of blood. Dean shivered, knowing he should be recoiling in disgust and not fighting off every instinct to lean in closer. 

Finally, it was Cas who put an end to it, grabbing Benny by his hair and pulling him off. “Enough.”

Benny shot him an annoyed look over his shoulder. “Easy there, chief. Can’t a man enjoy a meal in peace?”

He wasn’t being serious, Dean knew. He was just trying to rile Cas up. 

Did that make it more or less fucked up that hearing Benny refer to him as ‘a meal’ kind of turned him on?

“You are not a man,” Cas said, voice low and dangerous. “And Dean is not yours to consume with reckless abandon.”

Holy fuck.

Dean glanced between them as they now stared at each other, Cas all righteous anger, Benny stubborn as a mule. The moment stretched on, tension building, and as Dean was sure something was about to snap, Benny looked away.

“Son of a bitch,” he muttered, laughing breathlessly. 

Dean shot him a curious look but he didn’t say anything else, letting go off Dean and backing away. Dean stumbled on unsteady legs but Cas was there in an instant, arm around his lower back and hand raised to cover the wound on his neck.

It was too much, too fast. Dean’s head was spinning, still trying to comprehend everything that had happened in the last few minutes and drawing a blank on any plausible explanation. He felt lightheaded too, the blood loss finally catching up with him, and as warmth poured from Cas’ hand, healing him, all he could think was

Have Cas’ hands always been that big?

*

The third time it happened, it wasn’t by any stretch of the imagination necessary. 

Still, Benny had broken his leg. Even if it would only take a few hours to heal it would still slow them in the meantime. And even if he could still fight in this condition, why make an already difficult situation even worse when they had such an easy solution?

Cas didn’t protest this time. He took one look at Dean and sighed, sounding defeated. “If you must.” 

Guilt stirred in Dean’s chest, strangely enough. “It’s easier for all of us this way, right?”

Cas didn’t look like he agreed. “Let me know when you need me to heal you.”

And he stormed off. Dean watched him go, the guilt growing stronger. Which was ridiculous, what the hell did he have to feel guilty about? Cas healed him without complaint after any other kind of injury. What made this so different?

Dean looked at Benny, who was sitting on the ground with his broken leg, watching the proceedings with an odd look on his face. His expression softened when he met Dean’s eyes.

“I hope you don’t feel obligated to do this,” he said. “You don’t owe me anything, you gotta know that.”

“I know.” Dean swallowed, feeling oddly vulnerable. “I just wanna - it’s not a big deal.”

He walked up to Benny, kneeling down on the ground next to him, straddling one thigh as he tried to find a comfortable position.

“You keep saying that,” Benny said. 

He put his hand on Dean’s waist, steering him closer as if it were second nature. 

“Cause it’s not.”

Benny hummed, eyes hooded, gaze unfocused and hungry as Dean leaned in. “It is to me.”

He bit down, lighting fast, saving Dean from coming up with a response. Dean didn’t bother to silence his whimper or to resist the urge to sit down on Benny’s lap fully, drinking in the touch of him as Benny drank his life’s blood in slow, deep pulls.

He didn’t take much this time, barely giving Dean time to get used to the pain before he was pulling his fangs out again, laving his tongue over the wound to soothe the sting of their exit.

“This isn’t a one-way street, you know,” Benny muttered, lips still pressed against Dean’s neck. His tongue darted out again, licking up a stray drop of blood. “I’m sure there’s something you want I could give in return.”

And Dean didn’t doubt for one second just what he was implying. It was hard to, really, with Benny’s dick growing hard against his ass, feeling impossibly hot even through the layers separating them. 

It was tempting. No one had touched him that way in far too long and Benny was willing, more than. He wanted it as badly as Dean did and they were already half-way there, practically dry-humping on the cold, damp ground of Purgatory.

But… “Cas.”

Benny sighed. Pulled away and Dean missed the warmth as soon as it was gone. “Yeah, of course.”

“Sorry,” Dean said, not really knowing what he was apologizing for.

“Don’t be.” Benny looked up at him, a teasing glint entering his eye. “You know, he wouldn’t have to be a problem. I wouldn’t mind him joining in on the fun.”

A fuse blew in Dean’s brain. He shot to his feet, nearly stumbling over Benny in the process.

“That’s - I don’t -” Dean stuttered. “He wouldn’t!”

Benny gave him a meaningful look, though what meaning was completely lost on Dean, and got to his feet. 

Instinctively, Dean held out his hand. Benny grabbed it, grasping it tight even as he got to his feet, steady as if he’d never gotten hurt at all. He leaned in and Dean didn’t even think, staying perfectly still as Benny kissed him. 

He tasted like copper, blooming bitter on Dean’s tongue. 

“Offer still stands,” Benny said, pulling away with a grin. “If you change your mind.”

Dean stared.

“Now go find your angel and get patched up.”

An order. Okay, Dean could follow that, even if his mind was becoming more of a jumbled mess by the minute. He walked away, going in the direction Cas had disappeared to and finding him a short distance away, standing in the middle of a clearing.

He looked up as Dean approached, opening his mouth to speak but whatever he had to say dying on his tongue. Dean stopped a few feet away, suddenly feeling wrong-footed and uncertain. 

Cas closed the distance between them, slowly walking up to Dean, into his personal space and then closer still. He raised his hand but he didn’t reach for Dean’s neck, for the still-bleeding wound just below his jaw.

Instead, he softly cupped Dean’s face, placing his thumb on his lower lip. Dean froze, breath caught in his throat, heart beating wildly against the cage of his ribs like a frightened animal.

“Did he-” Cas started then stopped. 

He dropped his hand. Dean followed it with his eyes, spotting the dark smear of blood on Cas’ thumb. Dean’s blood, left on his lips by Benny.

Oh.

“Be careful,” Cas said, finally placing a hand - his other hand - on Dean’s neck and healing Benny’s bite. “Behaving recklessly in Purgatory has too steep a price.”

The warning rankled something deep in Dean’s chest. He felt a sudden, overwhelming urge to disobey, to lean in and smear his blood on Cas’ lips like Benny had done to him. 

He ignored it. Reckless or no, Dean wasn’t a complete idiot. He knew a rejection when he saw one.

#deancas #deanbenny #destiel #spn fanfic #blood drinking cw #team purgatory #purgatory #violence cw #perlukafarinn writes

[scones-and-texting-and-murder]

Bookends

(This story was originally written for and published in the DeanCas Anthology back in 2018. )

Word Count: 2223 Rating: General ao3 link

Cas pulls as close to the door as he can, checking the rearview mirror to make sure he isn’t blocking traffic as he waits for Dean to get out of the car. Before heading inside, Dean ducks his head back in to smile at him. “I’ll get us some coffee.”

Instead of driving away, Cas stays there, watching until Dean pulls open the diner door. Leaning heavily on his cane, he shuffles more than walks, his bow-legged gait made stiff by the arthritis that wracks his joints. Cas waits until he’s safely inside, then pulls past the open handicapped space Dean stubbornly refuses to use, and finds an empty parking spot.

Cas’s car is boxy and utilitarian, and Dean often proclaims that he wouldn’t be caught dead behind the wheel of something so ugly. Cas plays along because giving up driving had been Dean’s toughest concession to age, but as his vision deteriorated and his reflexes slowed, it had become an unavoidable sacrifice. With replacement parts for the Impala harder and harder to come by, Dean had finally agreed to keep her stored safely away in their garage. Cas knew it pained him to see her shrouded under a tarp, her motor idle and useless, but Dean would rather enshrine her in pristine condition than risk one more run-in with a light pole or curb.

With his ugly car parked, Cas crosses the lot to join Dean inside. While he’s aged as well, aged to the point that nobody questions the two of them together, he’s been spared many of the maladies that Dean’s combat-wrecked body has endured, and he moves with relative ease. The best they can figure is that the grace he’d had on and off over the years left his body with a certain resilience to the passage of time. Cas can’t cure Dean as he once could, can’t ease the aches or slow the aging process, but he can use his own comparatively good health and mobility to take care of him.

Inside, Cas navigates past the hostess stand to find Dean at their usual booth, chatting with their usual waitress. The two of them go to this diner religiously each Sunday morning, where the pews are scuffed burgundy vinyl booths and the altar is the breakfast buffet with the generous senior discount. As always, Dean has maneuvered himself across the bench seat to make room for Cas to sit beside him. His cane rests against the wall in easy reach, the simple carved wooden handle belying the fact that the base unscrews to reveal a bayonet-like tip. It’s never been wielded as a weapon (although Dean uses it, still sheathed, to poke at aggressive pigeons who muscle in around their favorite park bench), but that potential made it “badass” enough to overcome Dean’s resistance to using it.

To Sam’s everlasting chagrin, Dean has kept all of his hair, and it’s turned a stunning silver. The crinkles around his eyes have deepened, meeting the roadmap of lines that cross his face. His shoulders are stooped, his joints are stiff, and Cas thinks he’s never been more beautiful. After so many seemingly certain ends, so many years assuming Dean would die young and bloodied, the fact that he’s living out a full, lengthy life is an unparallelled blessing. Cas marvels at the gift of days that have unfolded into decades, granting them time he never dreamed they’d have together here on earth.

As Cas settles into the booth, he smiles and greets their waitress.

“Two for the buffet?” she confirms as she pours their coffee. Cas doesn’t even have to check to know that she’ll leave Dean’s at a little more than half-full so he can lift it without the tremor in his hands sloshing it over the brim.

They drink their coffee quietly, simply enjoying the ritual of being here. Dean peers at the laminated card that lists the specials, even though he never orders off the menu.

“Shall I?” When Dean nods, Cas gets to his feet. “Any requests?”

“You know what I like,” Dean says, leaning over to swat at Cas’s butt.

Picking up two plates from the warmer, Cas slides them along the metal counter, filling them in tandem as he traverses the buffet. Pancakes are too difficult for Dean to get on a fork, but the crisp waffles are good. Bacon he can pick up and eat, and Cas uses the tongs to place precisely two strips on his plate. If Dean wants more, he can get up and get it himself.

Dean can argue with Cas’s choices, but they’d had a hell of a scare a few years back. Cas will never forget the look on Dean’s face when their phone rang in the middle of the night, alerting them that Sam had been taken to the hospital in an ambulance. They’d rushed there themselves, Cas driving in silence, knowing that nothing short of seeing Sam with his own two eyes could reassure Dean. Thankfully, it had been a mild heart attack and, after spending a few days in the hospital, the discharge plan called for cardiac rehab and an appointment with a nutritionist. With Sam’s release imminent, Dean had relaxed enough to crow at the irony. “Don’t either of you try to tell me what to eat ever again. Mr. Organic Produce is the one lying in the hospital bed while my pork-rind-fueled ticker is going strong.”

Still pale, Sam’s brow furrowed with resignation. “I’m beginning to think you can’t die.”

Dean jabbed a finger in his direction. “You don’t get to go first. We have a deal.”

“Yes, sir.” Sam lifted the hand without the IV in a mock salute.

“That’s more like it,” Dean said. “Speaking of which, I need a snack.”

Cas helped him up and they walked to the elevator that would take them to the cafeteria. As they waited for it to arrive, Dean pulled Cas into a hug. Cas left a hand on his shoulder when they stepped apart again. “All right?”

Dean nodded, his green eyes shining with tears. “I’m glad you’re here.” Cas started to respond, to remind him that there was nowhere else he would be, but Dean cut him off. “I know you know. But I wanted to say it anyhow.”

Cas noticed a change after that. Dean was still the same stubborn mule Cas had fallen in love with, but he gradually became more willing to let Cas help. And somehow, Cas loved him even more for it. He loved seeing the slow-blossoming acceptance that came when Dean stopped seeing Cas’s help as a sign of weakness.

Now, standing in front of the steaming trays of food, Cas considers what else to add to their plates. He bypasses the cauldron of oatmeal (they eat that at home most mornings) and continues along the buffet. There’s a tremendous satisfaction in being allowed to care for this man who has done so much for so many and asked for so little in return. In fact, Dean has now embraced this new role so fully—no longer questioning what he deserves, or grudgingly accepting help, but full-on enjoyment of being doted on—that Cas has to be careful he doesn’t get lazy. There’s nothing Cas would rather do than settle Dean in front of a sunny window, snug in the recliner for Cas to wait on like a pampered cat, but he knows that sort of inactivity would do Dean’s joints and his heart no favors. So he watches Dean’s diet and insists on them taking slow walks after breakfast when his energy is highest.

Their neighborhood is a mix of young and old and everyone knows the two Mr. Winchesters who circle the block on days when the weather permits. The kids on bikes and scooters know to give them a wide berth, their parents warning them that the old men need the entire sidewalk, but they call out their hellos as they go by. They’re friendly with everyone except the woman who lives on the corner. Dean is convinced she’s a demon, but Cas suspects his distrust of her stems more from the fact that she seems immune to his charm. (Whatever the reason, he’s had to talk Dean out of chalking a devil’s trap inside her mailbox more than once.) They chat with their neighbors about the weather and the score of last night’s ballgame, and it’s so painfully normal that Cas sometimes feels his throat tighten up at the wonder of it all.

When Cas returns to their booth, Dean examines his plate. “They outta bacon?”

Cas cuts the waffle into manageable pieces and peels the wrapper from the muffin before sliding Dean’s plate over. “You know the deal.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean says. “You just like to look at my ass when I get up.”

They eat in congenial silence with Dean methodically working his way around his plate, eating everything heartily, even the fruit. Sitting next to him, Cas can easily scoop up any bites that miss his mouth, plucking them from Dean’s lap or his shirt.

“You two good?” The waitress asks when she comes to refill their coffees. “Need anything?”

Dean swallows the bite of muffin he’s working on, and rests his hand on top of Cas’s. “I’ve got everything I need right here. An actual angel, this one.”

She nods agreeably. “I can almost see his halo.”

Cas has learned that an old man can say just about anything and receive an indulgent smile in return. When Dean references angels or demons or the apocalypse, people assume he’s speaking in metaphor and they’ll nod pleasantly. Sometimes he’ll do it purely for effect, telling rambling tales from their past for the sheer enjoyment of being able to speak openly. He can’t always keep the details straight, but Cas is there to remind him. Some days, though, he seems to lose where he is in time, and there’s nothing Cas can do for that. Cas has taken to keeping a watchful eye on him in the late afternoons when he likes to doze on the couch with their one-eyed black cat curled up on his chest. Cas stays close in case he wakes from his nap agitated, calling for Cas, wanting to know where Sam is. Cas helps him to sit up as the cat springs down and scurries away.

“Don’t go,” he says again and again, and Cas takes him in his arms, assuring Dean that he’s here and reminding him that Sam is safe at his own home. He holds him until Dean shakily dismisses it all as just a bad dream.

The unfairness of it overwhelms Cas, and each time he’s left filled with wrath. These final years should be spent in well-earned peace, but instead Dean seems cursed with reliving his most frightening memories, traumatized anew by old, familiar fears. If Dean’s mind is destined to slip, why can’t it be toward blissful forgetting? What Dean has endured goes beyond what any human should; to ask him to bear it again is nothing short of cruel. But it’s a torture chamber created in his own mind, and all Cas can do is sit helplessly by, doing his best to ground Dean and bring him back to the present.

Cas looks at Dean’s empty plate. “Did you want to get some more?”

“Nah.” He’s full and happy and it’s time for their walk.

The waitress arrives to clear their plates. As he does every week, Dean asks if she needs to see his ID for the senior discount. As she does every week, she pretends to consider it before leaving the check. “You boys take your time.”

“Tip her well,” Dean says, leaning in to supervise Cas as he signs the bill.

“I always do,” Cas assures him.

When they’re ready to leave, Cas stands next to the banquette, waiting for Dean to retrieve his cane and slide himself to the edge. Using a combination of the cane and Cas’s extended arm, Dean hoists himself upright, groaning a little. Cas keeps a firm hold on him until he’s steady on his feet. Dean still dresses in layers, but these days it’s because he gets chilled easily. He favors heavy knit cardigans and as long as Cas gets the zipper started for him he can tug it up or down as needed. Cas checks him for crumbs then together they walk through the other tables crowded with families. They continue by the hostess station where a woman is wiping down menus. “See you next week,” she calls as they pass.

Cas steps forward to push open the door, and stands holding it. “Watch your step,” he says as he always does, pointing toward the raised metal threshold of the doorway.

Using his cane to steady himself, Dean shuffles his way over it, then stops to lay his hand on Cas’s cheek. His knuckles are gnarled, the skin of his palm is dry and warm, and Cas feels the same flare of awe go through him as he has since the moment he first found this glorious soul in the depths of hell.

“I am the luckiest man who has ever lived,” Dean says.

Cas kisses his palm, then takes his arm to help him on his way.

#deancas #destiel #my writing #growing old together #this came well before the finale #but it feels like a fix it fic nonetheless

[hiiro-writes]

zhongluc single dad au part 5 finale!

hiro here to bring y'all the last part of the single dad au series: a cup of you

as promised, here is the finale with a happy ending, and i hope you enjoy!

《♡》

a week passed yet it seemed like forever

the day after diluc told the principle that bennett wouldn't be able to go to school due to his injury, several of his friends and classmates came to visit him

since diluc was busy with accompanying his son in the hospital, jean, lisa, eula, and kaeya had to cover his shifts

for the first few days, zhongli tried to call him but diluc only ignored him since there was only so many things he could take right now

as much as bennett wanted to reassure he was fine he...really wasn't

the fall caused a fracture and he needed surgery (and the aftermath of the screws is...not pleasant) and so diluc was there 24/7 to take care of him and administer the painkillers

it wasn't until another week where bennett would be discharged from the hospital

when diluc expected the cafe to be closed at this hour (it was around 10pm too) he and bennett were greeted with confetti

apparently kaeya, jean, lisa, and eula wanted to welcome them back and congratulate bennett on being discharged from the hospital

kaeya also takes this opportunity to talk to diluc for a bit and tell him to relax and take it easy now that bennett is out of the hospital

he also tells him that if ever he needed some time off for his son they can take over his shifts if he gives additional pay

then diluc proceeds to smack kaeya on the head

on the other hand zhongli meets up with his good friend, venti for drinks

"good friend" when he doesn't get drunk all the time or pry into zhongli's love life so much and makes jokes about making them into songs

right now though he just wanted drinks with the company of friends 

when zhongli arrived to the bar, venti was already drinking all by himself (with around 2 or 3 glasses already) 

he is already disappointed in his friend

there was a bit of bickering on both ends at first until zhongli orders osmanthus wine and venti comments that he only drinks it when he’s bummed out

the “good friend” part of venti asked zhongli if he was still taking antidepressants the last time they saw each other

he still does but not as much as they used to these days but he feels the need to take them regularly again

as much as venti wants to asks he just drops the topic and talks about work instead

venti is a freelance songwriter for anything and everything due to his so called “musical genius”

they talk and drink for the rest of the night but venti starts to realise that zhongli is drinking a lot more than he’s used to

venti takes this opportunity to ask his dear friend a few...questions

when he asks about the person he likes nowadays, zhongli smiles and tells venti all the things he likes about him

just before he gets into too much detail, venti asks him another question

he asks if he’s happy to which zhongli looks troubled 

zhongli mentions that yes, he is happy but lately they haven’t been talking and he blames himself for it

he then becomes dejected over it and venti feels guilty for asking 

it was a good thing zhongli’s phone was out (and that venti knew the password) because it was time for them to go and he couldn’t exactly drive all the way back to zhongli’s place when venti uses a scooter

venti decides to call childe since the last message from his was saying that he made calla lily seafood soup for the kids at home

childe was surprised to hear venti’s sober voice since he’s usually the that’s drunk and needs to be escorted home

he arrives on time to see venti taking care of a passed out zhongli and take him home

he asked what happened and venti’s only explanation was that he drank too much 

as much as childe wanted to ask more it was already getting late and the bar was closing soon

on the ride home, zhongli mumbled something that childe was able to hear so clearly 

“i miss him”

there was no need to guess who it was based on how so fondly zhongli said it

this was the last straw, childe told himself, and decided to pay a small visit to angel’s share cafe the next morning 

diluc was taking a break after his shift while kaeya stayed by the cashier when childe stormed in and demanded diluc for an explanation for not talking to zhongli for nearly nearly three weeks now

all diluc could tell him was sorry since he’s still trying to process his emotions first about it

kaeya leaves his place by the cashier and stops childe before he could do anything rash

childe begins to tell kaeya that “this wasn’t supposed to happen” and “the plan was perfect” 

diluc catches on and asks what plan they were talking about to which childe covered his mouth and made kaeya sigh

he turned to face his brother and said that he will explain all about it someday 

it only took diluc a few moments to understand the whole situation and confirm with his brother if he and childe set him up with zhongli 

since the cat’s out of the bag, kaeya mentions everyone who was in on it which makes diluc even more frustrated

kaeya tries to apologies but diluc replies with “don’t talk to me” and leaves the cafe

diluc was on his way to guyun stone park and realised half-way that it will only dampen his mood even more

when he’s about to turn back he bumps into someone who spills their drink on both of them

“what a mess...i’ll remember this.” 

diluc realises that he bumped into eula and apologises immediately and offers her his handkerchief only to be turned down 

she said it was fine since it’s only cold water and will dry soon eventually 

eula noticed that something was wrong and asked if he wanted to talk about it since it’s troubling him so much

they then sit on a nearby bench just outside guyun stone park where diluc talks about what’s troubling him but only giving her vague details about it 

he admits that he’s upset since they all planned for this to happen and thinks that it’s some kind of sick joke, as if poking fun at his romantic life

eula can’t say much since she’s an outsider in all of this but suggests that he should talk to zhongli about what happened since she sympathizes with him

when diluc gives her a puzzled look she replies with “i know the feeling of being misunderstood and it isn’t a pleasant one” 

he didn’t have the right to ask her a personal question so they both just leave it at that 

diluc gives it some thought for a few days before calling zhongli again but this time, he’s the one ignoring his calls

it had nearly been a month and they still haven’t talked to each other and it kind of feels like their relationship ended before it even began 

when he was thinking of giving up after calling for the umpteenth time, a small fox, no...rabbit? was placed on the counter 

he looks up to see albedo carrying his little sister klee and mentions that she’s been meaning to give that to him since he looks sad lately and wanted to cheer him up to thank him for all the delicious treats he serves 

this reminds diluc of the gift he got for zhongli on the day he was gonna confess

he hurriedly thanks albedo and asks jean if she could take over since he needed to go somewhere important 

with the gift in hand, he bought a bouquet of glaze lilies on the way and made his way to zhongli’s apartment 

when he arrived he was greeted by xiao at the door who only closed it as soon as he saw him 

diluc tried knocking again and again until zhongli was the one who opened the door and was very much surprised to see him and realise why xiao kept the door closed 

“zhongli...”

he stopped the door before zhongli was able to fully close it and requested if they could talk for a bit

it took him a few moments to decide yet it felt like forever. in the end zhongli nods and they go down the small garden where there were barely any people

diluc decides to give the flowers first as an apology for ignoring him the past few weeks since a lot of things...happened 

before he could continue zhongli asked how bennett was as if to change the subject and diluc mentioned that his son was fine 

going back, he starts explaining what he saw that day and was really confused about it and thought that zhongli already had someone else and then the accident happened with bennett so he had to prioritize his son of course 

he also mentions that he should have asked in the beginning and told him what happened instead of rushing out of the park and leaving him to wait for hours

zhongli explained that the man he saw the other day was a dear friend of his and they used to be close 

diluc is now dumbfounded after hearing who the man was and feels stupid for being jealous about it 

when zhongli wonders why diluc didn’t ask in the first place, the other explained since he felt hurt 

“but why?” 

“because i like you”

then they both stand there in silence because...finally 

diluc confesses that that’s what he’s been meaning to tell zhongli, who cuts him short and kisses him

it was just a short, chaste kiss before he pulled away until diluc brought their lips together again with such need

when they part again, zhongli smiles and tells diluc that he likes him too, but he probably already knew that

they both laugh and zhongli comments that the flowers were lovely 

diluc then shows him a box and mentions that we he was also supposed to gift this too him that day 

when zhongli opens it, he sees a pocket watch with a mountain and dragon designs on it 

“you told me you liked antiques and so i bought it because it reminded me of you” 

this time, zhongli pulls him in for a hug and thanks him. he also apologises for ignoring his calls and messages but diluc only reassures him by saying that he deserved it 

timeskip to a year later and their relationship has been going well

they still continue to have their weekly dates together (bi weekly if they're considering the ones that they're not with the kids)

on just a few simple occasions, they would all go out together as if they were already a real family

ganyu asks them when they'll get married so she can stop calling diluc "diluc" and start calling him dad

they both blush and diluc explains that it's not their time yet since someone else is getting married

zhongli was at his usually table at the cafe when kaeya happily serves him his drink and gives him his wedding invitation, saying that he wanted to give it before childe managed to do so

he’s surprised that they still managed to print the invitation a few weeks away from the actual wedding 

childe and kaeya have been planning for months and yet somehow they forgot to formally invite everyone to the event itself, which was understandable since they were both still busy at work 

zhongli was going to be one of childe’s groomsmen while diluc was going to be kaeya’s best man

the ceremony went well and everyone was happy for the new couple 

diluc did the honours of saying a speech during the reception to the newly weds and congratulate them both on this new chapter of their lives 

when it came to the dancing part of the program, diluc invited zhongli to dance with him and said that he could only slow dance to which zhongli laughs but takes his hand 

they both watch childe and kaeya happily dance together (with a few missteps here and there but diluc is also the same) and pondered how their wedding would be like 

zhongli adds that he would rather have it at a garden instead and maybe just invite a few friends

diluc agrees and wonders how they’ll be able to share the apartment since diluc’s place was enough for him, bennett, and kaeya, while zhongli’s was the same

zhongli suggested to just buy a house instead and discussed the importance of each of their kids to have their own separate rooms since it “teaches about independence” 

they both also comment on having a nice kitchen, space in the living room in case a few guests were over, a table big enough to fit around 6 people since ganyu invites keqing a lot for dinner 

which reminds diluc, and asks if xiao and aether were together yet to which zhongli chuckles

“there’s no need to rush,” he smiles, “they’ll figure it out.” 

“like us?” diluc adds and gives him a kiss 

zhongli nods and smiles even more, pulling them closer to kiss his lover back

《♡》

and that's a wrap!

this all started with a coop with my friend and it all just...descended into this madness

special thanks to @valberryy and @chairagi for listening to my brainrot and helping me beta read this!

thank you for reading this series and i hope you guys enjoyed it as much as i did!!

there will still be a fanfic version of this that i'm gonna post on ao3 soon! and i'll post the link to that fic here as well

thank you again!

be sure to check out the previous parts here:

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

#IT IS FINISHED #im so happy HAHAHAHA #a cup of you #genshin impact #diluc #zhongli #zhongluc #single dad au #hiro writes

[loserchildhotpants]

Another destiel prompt from Twitter; say they’re dancing together, still trying to hide their feelings for each other, and because of that, avoiding eye-contract, the best the can, to ensure that the other character doesn’t notice how attracted they are to them (from this prompt list)

“Did you just turn her down?” Dean asks incredulously; Sam is busy sipping champagne next to him, but his eyebrows convey that he would also like clarification on whatever social interaction it is that Cas just had.

They’re all dressed to the nines, stuck at a posh wedding service until they solve this rogue Cupid case; it’s a low-risk case, but a case is a case, and they’ve got it well in hand.

Dean’s not been this dressed up since Bela stuffed him in a monkey suit, and he’d wager the same applies to Sam, but this is certainly the first either of them have ever seen Cas in anything other than his cubicle-life uniform.

Cas’ suit is sharp, pressed, striking, and he’s wearing a cerulean blue tie that has everyone meeting eyes with him coming up short. Predictably, he doesn’t know what to do with the attention, so he mostly apologizes awkwardly for those he seems to startle and thanks the handsy old ladies that liken him to long dead husbands.

With two flutes of bubbly meant for Dean and himself, Cas crossed the great hall, seemed to be stopped by a gorgeous young woman with dark hair, in a low-cut dress and a very promising smirk, but whatever exchange happened left her dejected.

“She asked me to dance,” Castiel tells Dean, passing him his flute, “I regretfully informed her that I don’t know how.”

“You can’t manage a simple little box-step for that hot piece? She was practically drooling, lookin’ at you!”

“We’re on a case,” he says, as though it’s a valid excuse.

“Nuh-unh,” Dean answers, shaking his head and putting his drink down on a nearby table, “That’s - that was a travesty, what I just witnessed. Babes are fuckin’ wasted on you, Cas.”

“She’s a fully grown woman, Dean,” Castiel corrects him, eyebrows scrunched in confusion as he brings his glass to his lips, “Besides, I’d only be wasting her time. I cannot dance, and I’d not be amenable to having relations with her, so it’s better I -”

“Not amenable?” Dean chokes out disbelievingly, “Who the fuck are you holdin’ out for?! Angelina Jolie?”

“I don’t know who that is.”

“It’s a shame you don’t know how to dance, though,” Sam interjects, seeing by the vein throbbing in his forehead that Dean is about to start shouting about beautiful women and Cas’ ineptitudes, “I could teach you, if you want.”

Castiel slants his mouth at Sam, and Sam smiles gently back at him, “I know it doesn’t sound like fun, but, honestly? It’s a good skill to have, and worst case scenario is that you brighten someone’s evening.”

Appealing to his kind nature is the right call; Cas can’t argue that point, so he puts his champagne down and walks up to Sam.

“Very well. Where do we begin?”

“Oh - we’ll probably wanna go somewhere more private, so we can move a little more freely.”

At Sam’s behest, Dean and Cas follow him across the great hall, out onto a spacious balcony, out of the way of most everyone. Double glass doors lead out to it, and flowers line stone railing; no moon is visible from where they are in the mansion, but the sky is bright with stars, and that’s light enough.

While Sam does a fine job of teaching Castiel, and Castiel is a very quick study, they struggle with their height difference while Dean tells them about their height difference, unhelpfully and repeatedly.

Eventually, Sam turns to Dean, and says, “you should step in, man.”

“What? I’m not short,” Dean pouts grumpily.

“No, but you’re at least shorter than me - it’ll make leading a little easier for him.”

Rolling his eyes as though he’s actually put out, Dean peels himself from the French window he’d been leaning on, and takes Sam’s place.

Even and paced, Castiel and Dean take a few turns around the balcony, and Sam is impressed, informing Castiel that it took him a full week of practice to stop tripping over his own feet.

“To be fair, you were still growing into them at the time” Dean jokes.

In a rare moment of familial levity between them, Sam laughs, and Dean smiles at him - all of that makes Cas smile too, and then Sam’s phone rings.

“Oh - it’s Natalie,” Sam lets them know, “She wants eyes on the dance floor for a minute - I’ll take care of it - Cas, you’re doing great, don’t stop practicing!”

To both Dean and Cas’ surprise and humor, Sam appears genuinely bereft to leave the lesson. They both seem inclined to respect Sam’s wishes, though, so they take another turn.

“You gotta stop glancing down,” Dean commands.

Flashing his eyes back up at Dean, Cas mutters, “it’s reflexive. I apologize.”

“Nah, it’s fine, man. You’ve got it,” Dean assures him, “Now that you know how to, you gonna ask that girl to dance?”

“Perhaps,” Cas tries to shrug, determinedly keeping his eyes up, “I feel certain she has moved on in her pursuits, but if I pass her again, I will offer a dance.”

“You know how?”

“Now, yes.”

“No, I mean do you know how to ask a girl to dance?”

“Is there a particular ritual involved?”

Exhaling a laugh, Dean brings them to a stop, and explains, “okay - I’m gonna show you how it’s done, alright? Then I’ll lead.”

“Understood,” Cas tells him with serious conviction, studious and militant.

Dean steps back and away, and they wait for the band’s dreamy rendition of The Way You Look Tonight to end before proceeding.

As The Book of Love begins, the live orchestra swells from inside the hall, Dean bows just a little at the waist, with his right arm crossing his chest, but his head up, and he inquires politely, “Castiel, may I have this dance?”

Tilting his head curiously, Castiel needlessly replies, “yes, Dean, of course.”

Smiling his most winning smile, Dean straightens up, offers his hand, and nods approvingly when Castiel all but glides into step with him.

He keeps the tempo slow, but incorporates making circles, turning them ‘round and ‘round the stone and marble balcony, up and down it’s length; Cas follows him easily, trusting Dean’s direction, and always operating on a similar wavelength - Dean thinks that maybe they dance together well because they fight together well.

“This is nice, Dean,” Castiel remarks softly.

A dusting of rosiness rises up in Dean’s face; he pulls Cas a little closer to better obscure his face from scrutiny, clears his throat and makes some noncommittal noise that could be agreement or indifference.

“You’re the one who taught Sam to waltz,” Castiel surmises conversationally.

“Yeah,” Dean answers.

“How is it that you came to learn it?”

“Eh, you’d be surprised what you learn on the job,” Dean replies easily, pulling away enough to spin Cas, and then move close in again.

“... you just spun me.”

“Yeah, I was there,” Dean jokes, smirking proudly down at Cas; “Don’t worry, when you get to be a seasoned pro like me, you can snazzy up your waltz too. Maybe next you can learn to salsa or tango.”

In a moment of silence between them, Dean follows Cas’ eyes to their clasped hands; Dean’s not sure what Cas is seeing, but whatever it is, it’s making Dean nervous.

“See now what that lovely lady wanted? Feel bad yet?” Dean prompts.

Castiel’s electric eyes refocus on him, startling him with their intensity just as they had the wedding guests that were strangers to Cas, “I do understand now. However, perhaps it’s the soldier in me, but I find I much prefer following than leading.”

“Ah, that’s just ‘cause I’m a great lead,” Dean teases playfully.

“Yes, you are,” Castiel reinforces, eyes flickering between Dean’s, “You do know I would follow your lead anywhere, don’t you?”

“Christ, Cas,” Dean swears, trying to politely move his too-warm face out of view.

“Really, Dean,” Castiel adds, squeezing Dean’s hand where they’re clasped; when that doesn’t work immediately, he takes advantage of a circling turn to near their faces - their noses almost bump, and Dean has no choice but to look into Castiel’s eyes, “I want you to know. You do know, don’t you?”

Swallowing roughly, feeling possibly feverish, Dean down, then away, “... you gotta stop saying shit like that, Cas.”

“Why?” he wonders, “It’s only the truth.”

Clearing his throat again - a nervous tic he didn’t realize he had until right then - he mumbles back, “yeah, well… I talk big, but I’m flyin’ blind, so maybe don’t follow me everywhere.”

“I’m a soldier, Dean. A Commander, actually. When I delivered you to the convent where Sam and Ruby were against the wishes of Heaven, I chose you. I pledged my allegiance to an Earthly King over an absent God, and I knew what I was doing when I did,” their steps slow down as Dean takes that in, “All I knew was that… I had faith in you.”

At that, Dean stops moving altogether, his hand slides down from Cas’ shoulder blade to the cinch of his waist, and he allows their joined hands to wilt a bit lower, but he doesn’t let go.

It seems then that Cas is the one having trouble keeping Dean’s gaze.

He looks to some faraway place over Dean’s shoulder, and rasps, “I still do. So, yes, Dean. I will follow you everywhere you lead, for however long you allow me to. I don’t mind flying blind if I’m flying with you.”

“Cas…”

With difficulty, Castiel looks back into Dean’s eyes, and Dean feels his heart thud in his ears. He wonders to himself if Cas can hear it, or feel it, but all Cas does is stare intently back at him, maybe waiting for Dean to confirm or deny something.

“Guys!”

Dean practically jumps away from Cas, frightened as if he’s been caught doing something untoward, but Cas is unbothered.

“I think I found our guy,” Sam announces, none the wiser, “And I think he brought a friend.”

“Yeah,” Dean affirms gruffly, “Got it.”

Sam turns back around first, through the glass doors, back into the busy hall, and Dean starts after him, a hand already twitching toward his holster, sparing Cas a look from over his shoulder.

The Angel is standing there alone, unmistakably ethereal with a backdrop of twinkling stars and lazy fireflies illuminating him; he’s examining his hand as though Dean may have left a mark or a message on him somehow.

“You comin’, Swayze?”

Cas’ eyes snap to attention again, and his forehead wrinkles, “... I don’t understand that reference,” but he follows after Dean anyway.

He doesn’t seem to notice how Dean clenches and unclenches his corresponding hand, but Dean wouldn’t be able to explain it if he did.

#destiel #deancas #my stuff #fluff #pining #mutual pining #idiots in love #dancing #pre-slash

[curioussubjects]

come be a season 12 truther with me; or what if dean and cas got together offscreen

Originally, I wrote this post to celebrate “Galaxy Brain” airing as Berens & Glynn gave us “The Future.” It’s been a while since that episode aired, and some things have changed about this meta. As such, there are multiple versions of this post floating around, so make sure to go back to the source for the most up to date version.  For all intents and purposes, this post functions as a meta manifesto not unlike shipping manifestos from days of LJ past. In keeping with that tradition, this post is a close reading of Dabb Era Destiel in which I argue that by using narrative gaps, queer coding, and romance tropes, Dean and Cas are shown to be in an established relationship. Although beyond the scope of this post, it’s worth pointing out that keeping Destiel mostly off screen was a way for the creatives to bypass network censorship while still remaining true to the characters.

This post is divided into three sections. Section I focuses on giving an overview of why earlier seasons of Supernatural aren’t as compelling as season 12 as a turning point for Dean and Cas’s relationship. That said, special consideration is given to 09.06 “Heaven Can’t Wait” as a potential rest stop in our journey due to it’s significantly placed narrative gap as well as themes in the episode. However, this post isn’t going to examine season 9 trutherism in depth, though it does coexist with and allow for it. Section II analyses season 12 and proposes a timeline and justification for the shifting Destiel dynamic. Finally, Section III will offer an analysis of how Dean and Cas’s relationship has changed dramatically from previous seasons in a way that is most like the shift from a “will they or won’t they” pairing to an established one. 

Before I move to Section I, I’d like to note something this post takes for granted: Dean and Cas are the main romantic subplot of Supernatural, and, in fact, their relationship is elevated to main plot for both characters in season 15. This post won’t argue about the canonicity of Dean and Cas’s feelings for each other, therefore, and so won’t spend time looking at many Destiel defining moments. I’d also like to make clear that this post also takes for granted that Destiel is being intentionally developed by the writers starting with Carver’s Era, and more so in Dabb’s. 

I. Why Seasons 4 through 11 May Not be It

The tl;dr. here is that while there are many moments throughout these seasons that Dean and Cas could potentially get together, none of those moments are ideal for a bunch of reasons that can be summed up as really bad timing. I also think the narrative is actively pushing them towards a moment that works. We get plenty of stepping stones, especially once we hit seasons 8 through 11 (and 11 most of all).

Seasons 4 & 5:

I know there’s been a lot of get together fics over the years set in this time period, but I just don’t see it. Do I see them being intrigued and drawn to each other? Yes. Do I think either Cas or Dean would act on it? Nope. I’m not arguing anything re: Dean’s feelings, but with everything going at the time I find it hard to believe he’d pursue anything with his angel friend. Most importantly here, though, is that during this time Cas was still very alien and other. There was too much angel in him, and while he obviously came to care about Dean (and Sam) very much, I just can’t see him navigating the realm of human relationships. That said, seeing human!Cas in “The End” is the first we see of potential developments for how Cas could behave without his angelness interfering. Being human changes Cas a lot, beyond even his experience existing among humans, though that of course matters too. This development will be important later /wink.

Seasons 6 & 7:

Before anything else let me just recognize that if we could see some sexual tension in seasons 4 & 5, these two seasons come with our first taste of romantic tension. The pining! Also note the difference between season 4 Cas and season 6 Cas in terms of behaviour. He is much less the angel we saw in that barn in “Lazarus Rising.” In season 6, we have a Cas making misguided decisions guided entirely by his emotions – namely, not wanting to involve Dean with the war in heaven – which is peak human, honestly. Put a pin on how sad Dean is in both seasons with Cas’s absence. Finally, put a pin on this being our first moment of Cas doing things on his own to spare Dean and it not ending well (soulless!Sam, Cas “dying” after Leviathan) because this is *the* hurdle in their relationship (along with Dean’s lashing out and self-worth issues). With all this said, the marked distance between Dean and Cas in these seasons negates the possibility of them entering into any kind of relationship. Much like seasons 4 and 5, there’s too much going on.

Season 8:

Ah, yes, the summer of purgatory. If you thought we had pining before…! I think we’re all very clear on season 8 being a turning point for the show, not only because new showrunner, but we also get the bunker. TFW now has an HQ, which pretty soon becomes home. Yes, Baby will always be home, but the bunker becomes the *unmovable* safe haven that Baby couldn’t be. The bunker is a place to coalesce, and for all the amazing things Baby is, she is not that. The acquisition of the bunker marks a shift in the psychology of the show: with the stable home space we can start to imagine domesticity, a place to come home to, the stuff of ordinary living. Most of all, the bunker is emblematic of security, of safety –keep this in mind, as we go forward.

This season also continues to see Cas go down the path of independently solving his problems instead of asking for help from Sam and Dean (his family in a way heaven never was) – note that the better together issue is at play in different ways with Sam and Dean also, but I digress. I also want to point out disastrous instance #2 of Cas’s insistence on figuring it out on his own: he loses his grace, and the angels fall. As for Dean, season 8’s focus for him has much to do with Sam, and them coming face to face with their issues with codependency, which hit catastrophic levels with the gates of hell and Gadreel plots.

So despite all the deliciously angsty get together purgatory fics and spec, there’s too much distance between Dean and Cas on Cas’s part due to his guilt over betraying the Winchesters in s6 plus slaughtering angels plus unleashing Leviathan. We do see Dean being more emotionally open with Cas and continue to voicing his wish that Cas would just stay with him and Sam, and let them help. It’s clear as day how much Dean cares. The timing is still bad, though.

Before moving on to next season, let’s take a moment to appreciate that this is the season Dean admits being kinda done with one night stands because “always with the adios.” Remember the bunker as a sign of stability? Yeah. I wouldn’t say Dean is craving a relationship, exactly, but I think we can see that he does want something more (ahem also I’m nodding to Cas refusing to stay put just cause).

Seasons 9 & 10:

The most important thing to happen between this two seasons is Cas’s stint as a human for an extended period of time. There’s been plenty of spec and meta written over the years about the effects of being human on Cas’s grace (a proto-soul now maybe?). What we can say for sure, regardless, is that Cas is much more humanized once he becomes an angel again. The understanding he gets from being human doesn’t go away once he regains his angel powers. You’ll notice that while we still see some of season 4’s characterization, Cas is not the same as he was – he is alien to angels now and is more intelligible to humans. Additionally, in an interesting reversal from previous seasons, we now get to see the depth of Cas’s feelings for Dean (thanks, Metatron) as well as seeing him be more open emotionally, while Dean does most of the pushing away (first because of Gadreel, then because of the Mark of Cain). In short, the timing is still bad as Dean and Cas are largely kept apart both physically and emotionally.

9.06 Heaven Can’t Wait

This episode is my white whale, friends. While I’ve come to fully subscribe to the idea that something did happen between Dean and Cas during the fanfic gap, I don’t actually think it’s feasible that it marked the start of a relationship -- be it sexual or romantic. My reasoning here is quite simple: the timing is bad. Were it not for external events (Cas regaining his Grace and Dean taking on the MoC), the course would have likely differed. Furthermore, Dean’s guilt over making Cas leave the bunker as well as Cas’s own hurt and self-loathing pose a significant and as yet insurmountable obstacle, which is easily seen with how Dean and Cas’s character trajectories go separate ways.

YMMV on what exactly happened between them in that Motel, but something definitely did. Perhaps one day I’ll have a proper s9 trutherism post to link to here for more details (likely won’t be written by me, though). 

10.16 Paint It Black

From the point Dean gets the MoC until the end of season 10, anything between him and Cas is quite impossible due to distancing, to say the least. Again, yes, the fic is really good, but alas. One of the reasons I’m bringing up this episode in particular is because of the confession scene. One, it’s a rare bit of explicit emotional honesty from Dean, and two, it tells me that while he and Cas may be well aware of the Thing™ between them, it’s still uncharted waters. It’s scary, and murky, and they’re unsure how to navigated it or if they should even try. Makes sense, too, there’s been A LOT going on since s6. Anyway, he’s the full confession:

You know, the life I live, the work I do…I pretty much just figured that that was all there was to me, you know? Tear around and jam the key in the ignition and haul ass until I ran out of gas. I guess I just thought sooner or later, I’d go out the same way that I live – pedal to the metal, and that would be it. […]  Now, um… recent events, uh… make me think I might be closer to that than I really thought. And…I don’t know. I mean, you know, there’s – there’s things, there’s…people, feelings that I-I-I want to experience differently than I have before, or maybe even for the first time. […]  Yeah, I’m just starting to think that… maybe there’s more to it all than I thought.

Can I just say, first, that this confession keeps me up at night because we never actually see anything done with it explicitly? I mean, obviously, I think we do in fact see the effects of this confession in the show, otherwise I wouldn’t be writing this behemoth, but still, like. Damn. Ok, so, remember when I brought up that thing in season 7 about Dean being kinda done with hook-ups? Here’s where that led us. We’re seeing a Dean here who wants more than what he has convinced himself he gets to have. He wants more than dying bloody. And when he talks about wanting to experience people and feelings differently, well, that says a lot not just on the queer coding front or the romantic front. I mean, jfc, Dean is accepting the idea that he can have more in life than just hunt until he drops, and he’s specifically talking about experiences at the interpersonal level.

Do you ever see a character having an epiphany and find yourself wanting to cry because this is it right here. Dean is just blatantly admitting he wants more and maybe he can make himself be open to that (!!!), which all culminates in season 11, so…

Season 11:

The pining is still here, but it’s worse now since it’s the whole plot? It’s been *checks calendar* 5 years of this. How are any of us still kicking I don’t know. Your slow burns could never. Cool worth noting points: Cas says yes to Lucifer (bad decision #2.5, lots of mitigating effects_I don’t actually hold it against him that much but Dean is another story & not entirely rational at this point); for the first time since the early days, Dean and Cas are on equal grounds: they’ve both fucked up a lot and have hurt each other. The issues this season are outside their dynamic. Amara and Lucifer here serve as externalizing forces for Dean and Cas’s problems: Cas checks out with Lucifer because he thinks it’s the only way he can help, Dean is caught up in the turmoil of Amara, the emblem of absence and avoidance of struggle. We do get something like an affirmation from the two of them to each other via Dean calling Cas his brother (and I want y’all to consider the historical queering of that statement, and Cas’s “I could go with you.” It feels like we’re headed to them being on the same page. By the end of the season, though, it feels like we’re getting a clean slate: Mary is back, nobody died, no end-of-the-world in sight, no interpersonal crisis. We’re also getting a new showrunner, so. No wonder. We’re gearing up for something, but I’m getting ahead of myself. What this season does that is super important is that it sets up the stage for the possibility of an actual relationship between Dean and Cas, something that has, up until this point, been pretty much impossible.

11.04 Baby

Y’all know what I’m about to quote here, right? That conversation between Dean and Sam about having something with someone who understands the life. Here we still have Dean reverting to the idea that it’s impossible, which is a direct contrast to the openness in 10.16. It’s understandable, though, considering there’s been little reason to think anything like that would be possible (see all the mess and poor timing from seasons past). The quote in question, though, marks a continuing development regarding the issues Dean is struggling with this season:

DEAN: Piper? That’s awesome. Heather. One-night wonders, man. Shoot, we’re lucky we still get that at all. SAM: Really? You don’t … Ever want something more? DEAN: I’m sorry, have you met us? We’re batting a whopping zero in domestic life, man. Goose eggs. SAM: You don’t ever think about something? Not marriage or whatever. But … Something? You know, with a hunter? Somebody who understands the life?

We wouldn’t be talking about this stuff all these years after Sam and Dean had a serious relationship if it wasn’t important, right? Also who else do we meet this season? That’s right! Eileen! And doesn’t that hit different with season 15 hindsight? And who does Dean have that understands the life? Whose stories have been intricately connected to his? Right now, this is all conjecture. A pipe dream Sam is revisiting, and Dean is skeptical about. Except, well. Look at what we get in “Into the Mystic” and “The Chitters.”

11.11 Into The Mystic

I’m bringing up this episode as a cross reference to “Paint It Black” as well as to complement the talk from “Baby,” and to show, again, that, for all the closeness between Dean and Cas, there’s still a marked distance they haven’t yet bridged. There’s still truths they haven’t told each other. Thanks Mildred for the delicious exposition:

Darlin’…If there’s one thing I’ve learned in all my years on the road, it’s when somebody’s pining for somebody else. […] Oh, don’t try and hide it now. Follow your heart. Remember?

11.19 The Chitters

And here we see some validation to Sam’s imagining of a possible future with someone else. We actually see hunters who not only are married, but they both make it out alive. Jesse and Cesar get their happy ending. They make the dream come true. And the reality of it important not just for Dean to see, but Sam too.

Dean: [with realization] Oh, so … [points back and forth to Jesse and Cesar] Cesar: Yeah. Dean: Okay, that’s… Cesar puts his beer bottle on the table and looks at Dean, while Jesse is being silent. Dean: What’s it like, settling down with a hunter? Cesar: Smelly, dirty. [turns to Jesse] Twice the worrying about getting ganked.

I’d like to point out, too, that the fear of getting ganked is thematic when it comes to the tension between Dean and Cas. More on this when we hit s13.

Alright, now, having said that, let’s take a look at season 12. Bear in mind, this is the official start of Dabb’s era, even if he kinda began taking over in season 11, and the change in vibes is obvious. In fact, 12 jumped out at me as a turning point, in hindsight, after getting smacked by the domesticity of seasons 13 and 14.

II. Why Season 12

[Out of date section. Update coming soon when spoons. After significant debate, I’ve altered the definitive start of Dean and Cas’s friend-with-benefits-with-mutual-pining relationship to between 12.02 and 12.03. I briefly explained why here, and yes it’s a shitpost--still true tho.]

Finally, the promise land, y’all. Getting right to it: what s11 was for Dean in terms of setting up the relationship stage, s12 was for Cas. In its initial beats, any way. That is, until the Kelly debacle, this was the longest Cas has been around the bunker and with the exception of seasons 13 and 14, it’s one of the first times we get to see how Cas might actually fit into the bunker-as-home. Things seem remarkably chill. Of course, we’ll notice that there’s still a lot of baggage hanging around because despite Dean and Cas being in a more stable place, they haven’t actually dealt with their interpersonal problems. I didn’t single out directly this episode, but do keep in mind Cas’s declaration in 12.09 First Blood as far as how much the Winchesters matter to Cas & how we also see Dean and Cas be particularly singled out with them seating together in the backseat of the Impala. What we also see this season is Cas trying to prove he is worthy of this family, his family. He’s not fighting for heaven or to right some grievous wrong (a la s8). No, this season he’s fighting to spare the Winchester, to bring them a win. To bring Dean a win. The major disconnect is that Dean (and Sam & Mary) already sees Cas that way, he doesn’t think Cas has anything to prove. And just maybe, Cas starts believing that too – or, at least, believing it enough.

12.10 Lily Sunders Has Some Regrets

This episode, oh my god, the goodness. In the wake of 12.09 we have Dean and Cas in a tiff because Cas mistake #3 (killing Billie and “cosmic consequences”), this is a pattern. Twice the worry of getting ganked, etc etc. But where this episode really shines is through the contrast between Ishim’s obsession with Lily and Cas & Dean’s mutual affection for each other. Ishim sees no difference here and, to him, Cas’s feelings for Dean are a human weakness. Returning to my point about human!Cas, this episode underscores that Cas’s increasing humanity is what puts him in the place where he can want what Dean wants instead of either being too alien to get it (see s4 & 5) or unable to experience it properly (Ishim).

12.12 Stuck in the Middle (With You)

Cas’s trajectory culminates here with the whole I love you (@ Dean), I love all of you (@ Winchesters). Let’s note too that Cas is dying here, in a way that is much more human than going up in light. This declaration of different types of love is entirely human. It’s also a definitive step wrt to Cas and Dean’s relationship because of what happens in 12.19. This. is. it. Oh, and, of course, let’s not forget to point to Dean’s face when Cas says that “I love you,” and how terrified he is that Cas is dying. Might make one rethink some things, hm?

12.19 The Future

This episode is simply hella suspicious, and all the kudos to Berens and Glynn for writing it. It’ll haunt me forever. Consider watching it again and just questioning everything. So. Weird things:

1. Dean’s reaction to Cas no getting in touch as opposed to Sam’s. Dean is pissed, which is Dean-speak for worried out of his mind. Sam is very worried, too, and puzzled, but he’s mostly expressing his relief that Cas is back. But Cas has gone awol before, but this time Dean is much more worked up about it; Sam takes note of this, too. Now, let’s imagine that maybe the events of 12.12 led to something happening between Dean and Cas. Then Cas decided to leave to find a lead on Kelly, but eventually Cas decides to work with Heaven and goes radio silent. For days. Having taken a chance, and something having happened between them, how would Dean react to Cas just going poof and not contacting him – despite Dean having called Cas multiple times.

2. Cas knows about the Colt. Ok, nothing off there. But when he goes to Dean’s room to talk, right after Dean leaves we see Cas looking around briefly. Like he know Dean would keep it in there. Maybe Cas had looked other places already. Who knows. What we do know is that eventually he does find the Colt not only in Dean’s room, but under Dean’s pillow. Sam didn’t even know the Colt wasn’t in the safe. So how did Cas know?

3.“He came into my room and he played me.” So, this quote right there, makes it seem like some seduction for personal gain, right? But can you see Cas actually doing that if they hadn’t gone there previously? For Dean not to suspect anything and go with it? There’s plenty of plausible deniability here, but the gaps in time in the narrative make me question what is there in those spaces. The scene where Cas tried to give Dean the mixtape back doesn’t read like “playing,” so it’s about a different interaction. Hm. Hmmm.

4. Dean and Cas’s brief conversation in Dean’s room is clearly Dean just wanting Cas to stay, so they can work (and be) together – because they’re better that way. Which, yeah, truth, but also ow.

5.And most importantly: When did Dean give Cas that mixtape??? How did that happen?

Sequence of events: Cas tells Dean he loves him – Dean is clearly shook by it – Dean gives Cas a mixtape (romantic gesture, often a declaration of feelings; in true Dean speak too lolsobs) – Cas goes awol - Dean acts like he got ghosted by his new bf -?????- Cas somehow knows the Colt is under Dean’s pillow – "He went into my room and he played me."

What am I supposed to do with that, hm? Like. Y’all realize they probably had some emotionally constipated getting together moment, right? Something that Dean clearly initially thought meant things were gonna change, now. Something that Cas couldn’t allow to happen until he could give Dean a win. Y’all are seeing this, yeah? I’m not saying they slept together and were full of feelings, except that’s kind of what I’m saying. But YMMV, there are other possibilities beyond sex. The full of feelings isn’t up for debate, though, even if the whole thing is informed by ridiculous amounts of miscommunication.

III. Seasons 13 through 15 As Established Relationship

Regardless of what happened in season 12, exactly, I can’t shake the feeling that something did happen, and something did change. My reasoning here is actually really simple: in comparison to previous seasons, Dean and Cas’s dynamic shifts significantly come season 13. I know some folks have been disappointed with some of season 13 and then season 14 for having dialed back on the destiel side of things. And, hey, maybe there’s truth to that in terms of backstage stuff, but I also want to point out that...well, the dialing back isn’t quite dialing back is it? Let’s look at 13 a little more closely:

Season 13:

So I said the deancas dynamic changed, right? I also think that change caught us unaware because the pivotal turning point that would cue us in never happened on screen as well as being subsumed by Cas’s death and Jack’s birth. But if I ask you about deancas in season 13 what would come to mind? Grief arc? Brokebacknatural? How domestic Dean and Cas are? There’s just something easy about their relationship after Cas returns from the Empty. The tension we’d grown so familiar with over the years is gone. Actually, it feels like we skipped the getting together bit of their relationship and went straight to established relationship and parenting. Some of the most peak married deancas moments we see circulating? Season 13, (and 12.10). It’s a lot, and it’s different, and it’s amazing.

13.01-13.05

Dean’s grief mini-arc. He was acting like a widower. Here’s me vaguely gesturing towards the mapping of Jonh, Mary, Dean, and Sam onto Dean, Cas, Sam, and Jack. And the reunion? I can’t help but be giddy at the song choice: “it’s never too late to start all over again.” To. Start. All. Over. Again. I’m just saying.

13.06 Tombstone & 13.16 Scoobynatural

I’m not going at length about these episodes, I just want to point out that they reveal that Dean and Cas have a whole thing going on off screen: they watch movies together, Cas knows about Dean being an angry sleeper, Cas seems to have been aware of the Dean-cave before Sam was. It’s little things like this that are examples of the narrative gaps surrounding Dean and Cas that have cropped up over the years. I don’t think it’s unreasonable to wonder what else could be hiding there. And when did the movie nights alluded in “Tombstone” happen? Maybe in season 12 when Cas in hanging around the bunker? The same period when Dean and Cas seem to be coalescing into something safer and more stable? Something that we never see come to a head because plot happens and Cas dies? Something that is immediately taken back up once Cas is alive again?

Season 14:

Overall, this season is more of what we got during 13, but it had two high notes I wanted to single out before ending this already too long post.

14.15 Peace of Mind

Look me in the eye and tell me Dean and Cas talking in the kitchen about Jack doesn’t read like husbands talking about their child. Look me in the eye and tell me Cas just texting Dean to gossip about Sam isn’t couple-y as hell.

14.18-14.20

Ah, yes, the divorce arc. Awful. Terrible. The culmination of Dean’s problem in all this: he lashes out, he pushes Cas away, his anger is alienating. Cue all of us suffering. But while Dean is clearly in the wrong in how the deals with his feelings, let’s not pretend some of his anger doesn’t come from a long established, and unaddressed, rift between him and Cas, which had its last traumatic turn when Cas died in s12. Dean isn’t being rational here: he saw Cas doing something on his own, and he saw that his mother is dead. What else could happen? Why won’t Cas just trust they can work as a team? What if Cas died again? And why should Cas put up with Dean’s behavior without knowing the cause? How can any relationship work this way? But notice how caught in the middle Sam was during all this. Notice how Jack is running off and acting out. The whole family is falling apart. Divorce arc, indeed.

Season 15:

But what about what we’re building up in 15? That seems like it could be a getting together plot, too, right? Well, yeah. It could very well be. But I’d argue the tension we’re seeing isn’t a will-they-or-won’t-they because they already have. We’re are watching a getting back together plot! The tension is, instead, will-they-or -won’t-they use their words to talk about the baggage that has kept them from truly being confident about their relationship. That’s the crucial step in their togetherness that they’re still missing, which is also the bedrock of the divorce arc that spanned twelve fucking episodes -- y’all, that’s half a season.

And technically? We’re not even done with yet because Cas never let Dean finish his prayer/confession in purgatory. What’s more, Cas hasn’t grappled with his role in the breakdown of their relationship, either: that he keeps going off on his own and getting hurt (and getting other people hurt), and Dean has to deal with the fallout. The deep emotional understanding, the truly being on the same page is what we’re on the edge of our seats for. We’re waiting to see what else Dean had to say, and what will happen when Cas’s deal with the Empty comes to light.

Finally, could we still have this plot without Dean and Cas having gotten together off screen? Sure, but I think the stakes are higher if they already did have something between them. If they actually have an established romantic relationship going on. Something real and tangible and as of yet much too fragile.

"...you asked what about all this is real. We are."

#destiel #deancas #supernatural #spn #spn meta #this thing is gargantuan yikes #anyway enjoy? let's chat #my writing #this thing is half meta half my adhd unleashed

[hawkland]

Destiel fic recs (round #4) + commentary

Time for another (mostly) Destiel fic rec round-up post before my bookmarks get out of control! This one’s a mix of longer and some shorter fics (or series thereof), no particular theme except I guess a lot of angst, hurting Cas, and all the other things that tickle my Id. Several Season 9 human!Cas divergence fics, plus some later season angst-fests and rewrites.

In the Shadow of your Wings by Enochian Things (Salr323) (52k) The first of two fics by this author which I absolutely fell in love with! Canon-divergence from the end of Season 11. Cas finds himself blasted to Naples, Italy by the banishing sigil in the bunker and he stumbles — almost literally — into a sexy, delightful Italian Man of Letters, Luca. When he makes his way back to the bunker and finds Dean still alive, he tries to confess his feelings but Dean panics and shuts him down. Cas goes back in Italy soon thereafter and ends up beginning a relationship with Luca, much to Dean’s chagrin. Meanwhile Sam is still missing and it turns out there may be some dangerous individuals who are out for Cas more so than even the Winchesters. 

I loved everything about this fic so much - Luca is an amazing OC, the Naples and London locations are wonderfully evoked and took me straight back to places I’d been. The angst, the pacing, the plotting and the eventual Dean/Cas getting together are all amazing and this is definitely on my re-read in the future list.

The rest of my recs below the cut!

My heart is beating from me by Enochian Things (Salr323) (55k) The other fic by this author that I literally inhaled in one day! Season 9 Human!Cas canon divergence. It’s been months since Sam and Dean have heard from Cas, and when they do, it’s in the form of a wedding invitation. Cas is getting married to Daphne - the woman who “rescued” him and named him Emmanuel when he’d lost all his memories post-Leviathans. It seems Cas went back to her while on his own and they’ve rekindled their relationship...whatever it is. Dean just knows something isn’t right about her, so he sets out to investigate and try to figure out WTF Cas is doing before it’s too late. 

This story is so, so good! The case Dean gets Cas to come along on is unique and provides a neat investigation subplot, but what’s so especially wonderful is the explanation the author gives of who Daphne really is — and why she’d been so cool about just having a strange man with no memories move in to be her “husband” (and then want to marry him for real a couple years later, after he’d vanished from her life!) In fact it’s so brilliant I’m basically accepting it as my Daphne headcanon from now on and I don’t want to spoil it. The fic is also great in exploring Cas still struggling with understanding human emotions, customs and etiquette, Sam is A Very Good Friend, and Dean is, well, Dean. (I’m just sad this author hasn’t written more SPN fics because what they have is just brilliant.)

The wilderness. by orange_crushed (8k) Wonderful, shorter Season 9 canon divergence fic by an author who consistently makes me happy. Human!Cas leaves the bunker with a few things to get off the ground from Dean and directions to connect with Garth...but he ditches that plan to try to find his way on his own. It’s wonderfully detailed about the basic struggles of survival, finding work, making ends meet and trying to make some new friends...and why it’s important for him to prove he can make it on his own before he’s willing to welcome Dean (back) into his life.

I Through My Window See by deHavilland (26k) This is an interesting one, written well before we had canon human!Cas in Season 9. Canon-divergence in which Cas remains human after they avert the apocalypse in Season 5. Sam and Dean set him up in an apartment in Sioux Falls and then...just kind of abandon him there. He spends most of a year just barely existing before a visit from Sam finally stirs him out of his inertia and depression, to eventually get a job and also start hunting on his own. This is an interesting read, if just to see an author exploring the idea of human!Cas abandoned by Dean a few years before it actually...ended up becoming canon! I love how Cas is written in this (it’s a story much like the next one on my list that I thought does an amazing, realistic job of capturing what depression feels like), but I do have some issues with Dean. It’s never fully resolved or explained why Dean was being such an ass so I honestly wasn’t totally sold on the ending - I wanted some more out of Dean, some more explanation or apology or something. It’s a story that would have been great to have a sequel from Dean’s POV but after all this time, that will just have to exist in my brain, I suppose! Still worth a read because it’s excellently written, Cas becomes totally bad ass again by the end and it’s always fun to read early SPN fic speculating on future developments.

I Shall Not Want by domesticadventures (20k) I found myself inhaling a bunch of wonderful short ficlets by this author the other day, but this is the one I had to stop at to rec. It’s another Season 9 divergence fic, of a sort - Cas is newly human, for the sake of the story there’s no Abbadon to worry about, Sam is healed...and Sam wants to move out and get on with his own life. Cas and Dean are both struggling with adapting to their new lives and it’s a hauntingly rich and stark portrayal of depression, inertia, and the slow healing process of accepting and adapting to change. I also liked that this story gives us a Dean who is a little more aware of his feelings for Cas and they both struggle to reach out to each other - for once it’s not sexuality causing a crisis of identity but all the other shit they are coping with.

Don't Sing Love Songs by ireallydidthistomyself (17k). I’m not normally a big fan of baby/toddler!Jack fics - I like the angst that he was forced to grow up too quickly, and in general I’m not big on kid!fic in fandom. This author’s work is a big exception to that. They’ve written several stories along a similar theme: Cas raising Jack on his own/in secret for years, Dean only finding them or coming back into their lives later on. But this is the version of that idea that really packed the most punch for me and was incredibly emotionally satisfying. Dean finds Cas after 6 years, where he’s kept Jack mostly isolated and safe from the world. But with Dean allowed back into his life, Cas may be inviting grave danger upon Jack as well. This one ripped my heart out but managed to make it all better by the end.

Better Ways to Kill Our Time by always_a_birthday_girl (8k) I don’t know why I torture myself reading Dean-in-the-Ma’lak-box AUs, but I do. I think because it’s pretty much my biggest nightmare/horror and for some reason it’s cathartic while terrifying? Anyway here’s one where Dean goes through with his plan, Cas crashes and burns for most of a year, until Dean finally starts doing what he promised he wouldn’t: praying to him. Cas figures out a way to communicate back and over the distance, they manage to have certain conversations they should have years before. It’s painful but lovely and there is a happy ending, so it’s well worth the read!

Time Flows Like Water and We're Drowning by triedunture (7.9k) A little break from the later-seasons stuff I (mostly?) read, featuring a seriously hot (but angsty) Cas/Endverse!Cas/Dean threesome. When Zacariah’s plan to show Dean the future doesn’t change his mind about taking on his “responsibility”, he sends Endverse!Cas back in time to try to convince Cas instead, showing him what he’s to become. I don’t think Zac expected it to turn into a threesome, but it’s hot and beautiful and sad and wonderful all at once. 

hachikireru by vaudelin  (23k) At one point I went on a wallow-fest of reading a bunch of sad 14x20-15x03 divorce-arc fics. Just to hurt myself more, I guess. I know this fic’s been recced around a lot (at least on fail_fandomanon) and I can see why! After leaving the bunker, Cas ends up in Sioux Falls to visit Claire. She’s busy tracking down leads to find Kaia’s killer and he decides to go along with her on one such hunt. But what they find is an unexpected supernatural threat targeting those with broken hearts. Well. I think you know where that might be leading. This is a wonderful casefic with lots of character moments between Cas & Claire and then Cas & Dean, working through their pain and angst and just...it’s a very satisfying read.

Moriah Codas: A Trilogy by Toomanyfandoms99 (11k total) A series of 3 shorter fics spinning off the events of 14x20, developing a slightly divergent universe the author’s written where Cas does have his wings back and has helped resurrect a few of the angels (Balthazar, Gabriel, and Samandriel in particular). This series is absolutely heartbreaking — Cas is completely broken by Jack’s loss, has “fallen out of love” with Dean after he was ready to kill Jack, and sees no way back to what he’d had and felt before. He’s determined to just let the Empty take him...but not until he and his assembled squad of “avenging angels” clean up the mess Chuck has created, smiting zombies and taking out super-powered monsters across North America. 

Cas’s motorcycle gang/angel squad is so fucking awesome (I want a happy fic where they do this!) and this is BAMF!Cas at his finest. I just have to include a quote:

He set down the empty glass, and Gabriel said, “well, dearly beloved, we have gathered here today to kick some zombie ass. Since they have chosen to amass in Carthage, we are here to take out as many as we can without causing this town to flip the fuck out. Are we in agreement?”

“I expect,” Balthazar grinned, “a full-on bar brawl. Do not disappoint me.”

“Cassie, Driel,” Gabriel addressed the duo, “how are we with weapons?”

“I have enough machetes in a storage facility uptown to film a Jackie Chan movie,” Castiel said.

But it’s also utterly and completely heartbreaking, so don’t read this one if you need a happy ending. If you do read, check out the author’s other later-season coda fics and fic series as they are all really great.

to mend what is not broken by gothyringwald (2.6k) This last short one I’ve mentioned before, but I just have to rec it again! It was my gift for the 2021 Hurt Comfort Gift Exchange and it’s everything I wanted, and more. Sweet and caring Dean, wounded but still prideful Cas, and some lovely wing!kink/wing!care that pushes all of my button just right.

Anyway, that’s it for now as I think this is long enough. If you enjoy my recs, could you let me know? I try to not just list titles but give some commentary...as it helps me re-find stories I enjoyed the most, too!

#destiel recs #my fic recs #deancas fic recs #my destiel recs

[ace-trainer-risu]

had really horrendous destiel brainrot today for some reason and all I could think about was this completely ridiculous crack concept that kept making me laugh hysterically while I was supposed to be working.

so basically i just started s12 of SPN and am amusing myself greatly by imagining that Mary is like [looking eyes emoji] at Dean Cas interactions and I was like...imagining her trying to talk to Dean about it like "Oh so...Castiel seems like a very nice angel...very...handsome" and how Dean would react to that and I realized that, oh my god, Dean's denial is so deep and vast that he'd just be like Oh Wow. Mom...is in Love With Cas.

like just...imagining Dean...trying to parent trap Cas and Mary...his denial working overtime to convince himself that This Is Good and he totally wants this to happen. He's like, well, Mom is perfect of course, and Cas is...CAS, he's so you know, Great, so for them to be together is perfect and right and the way it should be. They Deserve To Be Happy.

Sam is like You Are DEPRAVED. Are you POSSESSED. And Dean is like, Sammy, don't worry, it's not like Cas could ever replace Dad of course and Sam is just [screams internally] THAT IS NOT MY CONCERN hERE!

(but also just a tiny bit it is and there is like a teeny one percent part of him that's like DID YOU FUCK MY MOM CASTIEL.)

And Cas and Mary who...like each other fine, but are Not in love with each other are just like. completely mystified like literally have no capacity to understand what is occurring even though Cas HAS in fact seen The Parent Trap (Lindsay Lohan and Mary Kate and Ashley version, of course, b/c Cas exclusively has trashy taste in television and I love that for him). like they walk into the bunker one day and there's like candles and rose petals everywhere and Dean serves them pasta and then flees and they just. stare at each other. Mary's like. Do you even eat. And Cas is like. No.

like whenever dean talks to either of them he's like, Wow, Cas doesn't mom look great today? and poor Cas is just like "what." like NOTHING in his life has prepared Castiel to answer the question of whether a 30 year old human woman who is the mother of the man he's in love with "looks great today." Dean keeps being like SO Mom isn't Cas GREAT and Mary is internally like He's Fine but wants to encourage her son and unfortunately I'm pretty sure they didn't have PFLAG in 1970s Lawrence Kansas so she's always just like OHH YEAH he's great! He's the best! Love when he uh stabbed that demon the other day. That was uuhhhhhh very uhhhhhhhhhhhhh s-sexy? And Dean is like AHA PROOF while simultaneously feeling like he is going to die and Sam is in the background like. did you fuck my mom castiel.

*side note but Cas is genuinely sad and hurt like a little lost puppy that Sam is suddenly being lowkey very cold to him. He misses his buddy :(

[am imagining Kevin and Charlie and Bobby and Rufus up in heaven watching all of this and eating popcorn. No I know they never met alive BUT. hear me out. bestie squad. Charlie of course is a Destiel shipper. Obviously. Kevin doesn't so much ship it as view it as simple fact. annoying fact. every time Dean or Cas does something ridiculous he yells and throws popcorn. Bobby at first is like "what? no" but after three hours alone with Charlie he's fully Team Destiel. Rufus is merely there for the laffs. They have bets going on the outcome, Charlie is all-in on this ending with Dean and Cas kissing, Kevin is like no, they'll nEVER work it out, they're tOO DENSE.]

at some point Crowley and Rowena get dragged in for elaborate shenanigans of course and Rowena is like "Wait but isn't that poor wee angel in love with y-" and then Crowley kicks her and hisses "Don't RUIN this for me!!!" all of which Dean conveniently fails to notice even though it happens like two feet away from him. Crowley like, genuinely doesn't know what he wants to happen here and of course is very conflicted what with the, you know, HISTORY between him and both of them (what history? you mean when you pathetically pined over both of them and then they both rejected you? Rowena says rudely) but ALSO he desperately wants to see any and all ensuing chaos and fallout.

eventually it does all dramatically falls out and Mary is like WHAT the fuck is a parent trap (the first movie came out in the '60s but she did not see it) and Cas is like. Mary Kate and Ashley or Lindsay Lohan and Dean is like oh obviously Lindsay Lohan and Sam is having a very small quiet seizure so no one notices. and then like a week later Dean is like Wait Cas are you pissed at me? and Cas is just [screams internally] how could you think that I'm in love with your MOTHER instead of--- and dean is like [totally not having a panic attack] instead of who? and Cas is like very quiet you know who and Dean is like even more quiet who

and anyway long story short, Charlie takes the whole pot up in heaven.

#idiots to lovers 20k #destiel #spn

[killianmesmalls]

Seeing the Signs

A short fic with Cas and Jack that takes place between 14x03 and 14x06, directly after their hunt in Sarasota. Just some father/son stuff for no reason. 

---

Castiel could feel the humidity sticking to his vessel’s skin, could sense the odd looks from passersby. A trenchcoat over a suit in the middle of Florida, he admitted to himself, was a strange sight even while driving in a thunderstorm. Just a few years ago, he wouldn’t have noticed the difference, but so much time amongst humans and a wave of pop culture knowledge allowed him to at least understand the glances in his direction.

Then again, this was Florida. They had seen weirder. Besides, he had bigger concerns.

Jack had been talkative the whole drive to Sarasota. Hell, there had been a time or two that Cas had attempted the age-old “quiet game” he’d read about in at least 20 of his child-rearing books in order to get the boy to settle. A pang of guilt snapped at his chest, knowing how much his son’s energy was due to pure excitement of just being allowed on a hunt.

Now? Jack was quiet, staring out the window as the typical afternoon storm made its way through. His thin finger traced the tracks of a raindrop before it gathered at the base of the passenger side window.

“Jack?” he tried, glancing at the boy. “Everything all right?”

“Yeah.”

“If there’s something you want to talk about—”

“I’m fine, Cas. I promise.”

The winding interstate traffic around Tampa began to peter off along with the rain. Suddenly, Jack’s focus turned upward as signs indicated exits for Orlando and Kissimmee before he seemed to remember whatever thoughts he had been locked in.

“Jack—”

“I said I’m fine.”

The rise of parental frustration bubbled inside Cas. He knew, in spite of everything the boy had been through and everything he had learned, he was still very much a child. It was occasionally difficult for humans to see, considering they assigned such importance to smaller units of time: months, years, decades, and even more importance to appearance. As an angel, his eons made all other increments or visages almost inconsequentially different. Sam and Dean were human adults with more experience and trauma than he’d wish on any other of his father’s imperfect, perfect creations. Still, they were blips in existence compared to him.

Jack? Nephilim, human, whatever he may be now, Cas could never shake just how very young he was. Eighteen months. Eighteen months of trauma and responsibility and weight on his shoulders, but only eighteen months.

Still an infant by human standards, not that he had the chance to experience proper infancy, Jack was physically confusing to describe even for Sam and Dean. Was he eighteen? Twenty? Twenty-two? Not that any of those made a difference to Cas. Eighteen months in a teenage-to-young-adult body with the lost powers of an eldritch being wasn’t something they discussed in parenting books.

Cas heaved a sigh and, just as the last of the rain trickled off, pulled the car over.

“What? I said I’m fine,” insisted Jack before the car had even come to a full stop.

“We both know that is not true. Now, Jack, I want you to know that I respect your right to privacy and, should you need time on your own to sort out anything you’re thinking through, then I will continue on and we can hopefully work this through together if you cannot do it on your own. However, I am unable to ignore a marked difference in your behavior from the start of this trip to now and, if there is anything in my power I am able to do, I wish to help. Something is on your mind and I am here to listen if you’re willing to talk.”

A long quiet stretched between them. Just as Cas was about ready to restart the car and call it a temporarily lost cause, Jack shrugged.

“I just… I kept seeing signs.”

“Signs? Like, from heaven?”

“No,” the boy replied, shoulders curling slightly, “I mean road signs.”

“Well, Jack, we are on the road. Is there a specific one that upset you?”

“No, that’s not….” he trailed off and Cas could hear the teenage grunt of annoyance in the back of his throat. “I saw some signs for Disney World.”

Cas’s mind recalculated for a moment. “Disney World?”

“It’s stupid, never mind.”

At the dejected sound of his kid’s voice, Cas turned off the engine and fully glanced at him, admiring for a moment how very much this boy had been through hell and still looked like kindness personified. He felt a brief wave of remembrance for touching Kelly’s belly as the child kicked, solidifying in an instant their bond. Somehow, warzones and countless losses had not stripped that from them.

He’d be damned if continuing the wrong route down the interstate did.

“It is not stupid. Your feelings are never stupid. Misplaced maybe, depending on the circumstances, but never stupid, and certainly not now.”

Jack perked up as Cas finished, finally glancing his chosen father in the eyes. The look sent a swell through the angel, pushing him forward.

“We have some time before we need to be back home, and Sam and Dean will understand if we’re later than expected. Let’s go take a look and maybe, if you want, we can spend an extra day or two here and see a few things. Maybe meet this Mickey everyone has been discussing for so long.”

“Wait, really?” asked Jack, eyes wide.

“Really,” he said, placing a hand on his son’s shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. “While we’re here, we might as well. Besides, all work and no play—”

“Makes Jack a dull boy?”

“I was going to say ‘isn’t fun for anyone’ but I suppose I understand that reference. Though, remind me to tell Dean that The Shining is not appropriate viewing material for you.”

Jack rolled his eyes but, to Cas’s delight, at least shed a smile. “I kill monsters, I can watch horror movies.”

“Did you or did you not get nightmares after that one?”

Jack faked a cough and went back to looking out the window, smile broadening. “Innocent until proven guilty.”

“Remind me to also tell Sam not to give you law terms to use against us,” Cas said as he started the car back up and eased back onto the interstate.

From time to time, Cas took glimpses at the boy as they made way to Disney, spotting the smiles from him searching what he may want to experience in the parks in between counting down the miles. Though he didn’t like to spend the money they truly didn’t have on frivolous things like resort rooms and meal plans, there was nothing frivolous about this. For all that Jack had been through, he deserved this. He deserved to be a kid, to ride rides, to build a plastic lightsaber and hug a costumed character.

And, as Cas took the exit, he figured maybe a small part of him deserved it, as well.

#jack kline #castiel #dadstiel #idk brief fic exchanges with friends

[synmorite]

Behind These Eyes- Chapter 3

Summary: Life in the bunker, a hunt gone bad, cuteness, and goodbyes.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 3642

Warnings: fluff, angst, injuries, more angst

A/N: This section was definitely written to be more “slice of life.” There’s a few time jumps. One more part after this!

*****************

You settled into life in the bunker quicker than you thought you would. Dean took you shopping and you picked up some essentials so you could be set for the next couple of months with them. You also insisted on picking up food so that you could cook for them. Mostly, you wanted to return the favor. They took you in and welcomed you as part of their family. The least you could do is give them some good home cooked meals. The first time you cooked, Dean moaned at the first bite of chicken. Sam smirked at his brother.

“Hey Y/N?” Sam turned to you.

“Yeah?” You asked, looking over at him.

“Clearly, you’re an excellent cook. Can you bake?”

You frowned at the random question, missing how Dean’s gaze zeroed in on you. “Yeah, I can bake too. Why? Something in particular you’d like?”

“How about cake?” Sam said, smirking at his brother before dodging the spoon that Dean threw at him.

“Sammy!” Dean growled. You looked between the brothers, utterly confused at what was going on.

“Can you bake… pie?” Dean asked, somewhat hesitantly.

“Yea, I can bake pie. Apple, cherry, blueberry, strawberry rhubarb, peach, basically any type.  You got a preference?” You shrugged.

Dean was staring at you. “Can you make all of them?” 

Sam burst out laughing. You frowned at them. “Can you guys eat that many pies?” You asked. Sam dropped his head into his hands, practically choking on his laughter now.

Dean glared at him. “Sammy doesn’t get any pie. They’re mine!” You joined in with Sam’s laughter, finally realizing that Dean must REALLY love pie.

***

One month later...

The boys still looked for hunts, but for the ones they found, Sam usually called another hunter to take care of it. They had a fairly large network of hunters set up. Dean explained that they had ended up in an alternate universe and brought back several people with them from that world. You weren’t surprised when Dean informed you of the existence of other worlds.

“I have an angel inside me. Why shouldn’t there be other worlds?” You shrugged.

It wasn’t long before there was a hunt that they needed to take. Something was killing soldiers that had returned from the Middle East. Wounds they received in the war and had long since healed, were reappearing and killing them. Sam and Dean had never come across this before and didn’t want to send someone else in to investigate something unfamiliar. There was no question that you would stay behind in the safety of the bunker.

Before they left, Dean cupped your cheek in his hand and ran his hand over your cheekbone. He’d been doing this a lot more. Little touches here and there. His olive green eyes burned into yours.

“Sometimes I swear I can see Arti behind your eyes.” He whispered. 

You tilted your head. “What do you mean?”

His hand dropped and he shrugged. “I dunno. I just feel like I see something that isn’t you.” You frowned at him and he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Stay in the bunker. Stay safe, sweetheart.”

“You too, Dean. And you, Sam!” You called over to him where he was climbing into the impala. Sam gave a short wave and Dean climbed into the driver’s seat. He flashed a grin at you. “See you soon, princess.”

***

Dean checked in with you each night to ensure you were still safe and inside the bunker. They still didn’t know what was killing the soldiers, but they had tracked down that they all signed up and served together. Sam and Dean couldn’t get a hold of any details of where they served that may have caused them to become targets for whatever supernatural creature was now hunting them. 

However, on their fourth night away, Dean didn’t check in at 10pm as he usually did. You waited and waited, but he didn’t call or text. Neither did Sam. You’d tried calling them both, but their phones went straight to voicemail. You paced through the halls in your PJs, clutching the phone that Dean gave you. You tried not to worry, but as the silence from the boys continued, your anxiety over something being wrong grew. As 4am approached, you heard the growl of the impala and bolted to the garage. Sam was getting out of the driver seat and Dean was leaning against the passenger window asleep. Sam gave a small smile as you approached and gave him a hug. You could smell blood and smoke on him.

“I was so worried when Dean didn’t check in.”

“Yea, sorry about that. My phone died and Dean’s got...damaged.”

“Are you guys okay?” You asked.

“Yeah. Turned out it was a valkyrie. She posed as the army recruiter, and when her recruits didn’t die in Iraq like she planned for them, she decided to take care of it herself. FYI, fire kills valkyries. She hit Dean pretty good and he thinks he has a broken rib so he asked if I could drive us home.” Sam explained. He leaned down and called over to Dean. Dean didn’t move. 

You leaned down to the open driver’s door.

“Dean? Wake up, you’re home.” You called to him. He still didn’t respond. It was then that you noticed the light sheen of sweat across his face and the paleness of his skin.

You ran to the other side of the car. “Sam! Something’s wrong!” You pulled the door open and Dean fell out into your arms. His skin was clammy, but still warm. Sam was right behind you and helped pull Dean from the car to lay on the garage floor. Sam didn’t hesitate to pull Dean’s shirt up to expose his chest. There was dark bruising all across his skin. You could see his chest rise and fall shallowly so he was still alive luckily.

“That’s where the valkyrie hit him.” Sam whispered.

“What do we do?” You looked at him, panicking. Sam just stared at his brother. “Sam! WHAT DO WE DO?”

He shook his head. “I-I don’t know. The closest hospital is half an hour away and he has been bleeding internally for at least 8 hours while we drove back. I- I thought he was just asleep. I didn’t know.” Sam’s voice cracked. “Cas is too far. He can’t help in time.”

“Wait, Cas can heal because he’s an angel!”

“But he’s too far, Y/N.”

ARTI! You screamed internally. You forced all of your urgency and panic into the scream to hopefully reach him.

Little one? Arti’s soft voice echoed through your mind.

Please Arti. Please heal Dean. You choked on a sob.

You felt Arti’s presence move through you and had the odd sensation of him looking through your eyes to what was happening.

Little one, I am still weak. To heal him will weaken me further. I am not recovered enough to even fully heal him.

Please Arti. I need him. I need you to heal him.

Very well, Y/N. Press your fingers to his forehead and let my grace flow from you to him.

You did as Arti said and pressed your fingertips to his forehead just as Cas had done for you. You felt Arti’s warmth spread from your own chest, down your arm, and into Dean. You watched in amazement as the bruising on Dean’s chest vanished. His breathing strengthened and he let out a low groan. 

He is as healed as I can make him, little one. He will live. Arti replied weakly and you felt him recede.

Thank you, Arti.

Sam was staring at you. “Arti helped me.” You said softly. Sam nodded slowly and reached down to his brother. He pulled him up so that Dean’s arm was around his shoulders. Sam dragged his brother down to his room. You followed behind, suddenly feeling very tired. Sam laid Dean down on his bed. You reached forward and tugged Dean’s boots off before tugging the blankets out from under Dean to pull over him.

Sam walked out of the room and you looked at Dean again before following and pulling the door behind you leaving it cracked. Sam was on the floor with his back against the wall, shaking. You slid down the wall next to him and grabbed his trembling hand. 

“Thank you, Y/N. I thought I was going to lose him.” Sam whispered, squeezing your hand.

“I don’t want to lose him either.” You replied softly. 

Sleep didn’t want to come that night. Or rather morning. Sam had retreated to his room and you to yours, but you couldn’t stop worrying about Dean. Eventually, you got up and went back into Dean’s room. He was still fast asleep, but he looked much better than he had earlier.

You tentatively climbed on top of the bed and laid down on top of the covers next to him. You finally fell asleep watching him.

***

When you woke, you could feel fingers threading through your hair. You blinked your eyes open sleepily and realized very suddenly that you were curled up into Dean’s side. He was sitting up slightly in bed, with his computer on his lap. He had a tv show that you instantly recognized playing. Dr. Sexy. 

“I love this show.” You said softly and Dean looked down at you.

“Hey sleepy head. Was wondering when you were gonna wake up.” He smiled at you.

You scoffed. “Some of us didn’t spend most of the night unconscious. Some of us spent it worrying because someone missed check in and then showed up half dead.” You glared at him.

“Yeah, sorry about that. That valkyrie broke my phone when she hit me. And I just thought it was a couple of broken ribs.” He looked sheepish. “Sam said that Arti healed me?”

“Yeah, he did. He depleted his grace again, but he helped me and saved your life.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.” His green eyes held your Y/E/C ones. You broke the eye contact and looked at the computer screen again.

“This is a good episode.” You murmured.

He hummed his agreement and continued to comb his fingers through your hair as you tucked back into him.

***

Another month later...

Dean pulled Baby up to a small park with a little pond.

“Why are we here, Dean? Thought we were doing a supply run?” You asked.

He shrugged. “You spend most of your time cooped up in the bunker. You said most of the places you visited in your haven were nature related so I thought you’d like to get outside a bit.”

You grinned at him. “Really?”

He nodded. “Yeah, sweetheart. I know the bunker covers the libraries part of your haven, but there isn’t much variety to Kansas nature wise. There’s a little pond here. It’s not much.”

“It’s perfect, Dean. Thank you.” You leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, missing his blush. You opened Baby’s door before climbing out and running over to the pond. You leaned over the edge of the water and saw the tadpoles swimming in the shallows. You sat down on the grassy bank and sighed happily. You liked the bunker. But there was no sunlight. No breezes. No nature. Dean came over and sat down beside you. You dug your hands into the grass and felt the warm dirt beneath your fingers. You laid back onto the ground and closed your eyes against the bright sunlight.

“I forgot what the warmth of the sun really feels like.” You murmured.

“I never really thought about what it feels like. But it’s nice. It’s not just a warmth on your skin, but it’s down to your soul.” Dean replied just as softly. 

You peeked your eyes at him and saw him watching you with a soft expression on his face.

“Will you miss it? Will you miss… us?” He whispered. You sat up and laid your hand on his knee.

“Yeah. I’ll miss the bunker. I’ll miss Sam. I’ll miss you.” You rubbed your thumb gently across the fabric of his jeans and he was looking at your hand instead of your face now.

“Do you ever think of not going? Of kicking Arti out?” 

You let out a slow breath and looked across the water. “Yes. I do.”

Dean hesitated. “I don’t think you should.” You looked over at him, surprised. “Arti can protect you. I don’t think you should kick him out.” 

You felt a pain in your chest at his words. You nodded slowly to show that you’d heard him. You sat in silence with him for a few more minutes, but the comfort the pond had given you was gone. You stood up and dusted your jeans off. 

“C’mon. We should get the shopping done before it gets too late.” You were quiet during the drive to the store and you separated in the store to get everything you needed. As you checked out, Dean kept glancing at you. When you got back to the car and were loading the groceries into the trunk, Dean smiled and said, “Would you like to drive Baby back to the bunker?” You dropped the bag you were holding in surprise. Luckily, you had already moved it to the trunk and nothing spilled out or broke.

“What?”

“Do you want to drive Baby?”

You looked towards the car and then back to him. “YES.” He laughed and tossed the keys to you as he returned the cart to the corral and went to the passenger side. You sat in the driver’s seat and stroked your hands down the wheel. You pushed the key in and started her up. Listening to the roar of her engine, you glanced towards Dean. “Are you sure?” You asked.

He smiled and nodded. “Yes, I’m sure. Let’s get home.”

The drive from the store back to the bunker was all too short for you. You pulled into the garage carefully and shut the car off. Sam was leaning against the garage door, and he furrowed his eyebrows as he looked at his brother. “You let her drive your car?” Dean shrugged. “Yeah, why not? Gotta give her something to reference when Arti takes over again.” There’s a weird note in his voice that you catch, but you can’t quite pinpoint what it is. When you turn to look at him, his face is smoothed out with no sign of what it was. Sam raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t comment.

“So you gonna help us unload these bags or what, Sammy?” Dean asked. Sam shook his head and walked to the open trunk to start bringing the groceries in.

***

Two weeks later...

“Wanna go outside, Dean?” You asked, bouncing up to him. Dean raised his eyebrow at you.

“It’s raining.” He replied with a frown.

You grinned at him. “That’s the point.”

“What? To get wet?” 

Still frowning, he said, “I don’t get it.” 

“Haven’t you ever danced in the rain, Dean?”

“No? Why would you?”

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed at his hand and pulled him towards the bunker door. He offered little resistance as you pulled him outside into the summer storm and to the little clearing near the bunker door. You let go of his hand and toed your shoes off so you could feel the wet grass beneath your toes. 

“Sweetheart, I’m getting wet.” Dean whined at you. Closing your eyes, you laughed and tilted your face up as the droplets ran down your cheeks and through your hair. You could feel the warm water soak through your t-shirt and you spun in a slow circle. You opened your eyes and smiled at Dean who was just standing and watching you.

“C’mon, Dean!” You reached for his hand again and pulled him toward you. You gripped his other hand and tugged him further into the clearing and started pulling him back and forth.

“Now what are you doing?” 

“Trying to get you to dance!”

He frowned slightly at you before looking around. He pulled his hands from yours and moved them to your waist. You rested your hand around his neck as he started to sway with you in the rain. 

“Why do you like the rain so much?” He asked with a cock of his head.

You shrugged at him. “It just feels freeing. Like I can do anything. Be anything. Smelling it on the summer air, feeling it run across my skin. The sound of it hitting the trees and the earth. Seeing the clear puddles and the drips off the leaves. It lets me just BE, ya know?” You blushed at the admission, knowing that Dean would think it’s silly.

You looked up and met his eyes. His normally bright green eyes were darker as they looked at you now. You pulled your lower lip between your teeth at the intensity you could feel in his gaze. He started to tilt his head down towards you and your breath froze in your chest as he got closer. 

“What are you guys doing? It’s pouring out here!”

You and Dean jumped apart at the sound of Sam’s voice. You looked over at Sam to see him trying to hold his coat over his head to keep dry. 

“You worried that it’s gonna ruin all that hard work you put into your hair, Sammy?” Dean said, walking over to his brother. Before Sam could even retort, Dean grabbed Sam’s coat and pulled it off. He ran further away, laughing at Sam’s startled look.

“DEAN!” Sam yelled and he took off after Dean. You laughed, watching the brothers chasing each other through the rain. Your heart panged at the realization that you were running out of time with them. With Dean. You could feel Arti inside you again and knew that any day now, your time was up.

***

It was close to 3am and you were still sitting up in bed reading a book when you heard it. Dean was having a nightmare again. His grunts and whimpers could be heard through the wall. You could hear him having nightmares almost every night. You listened for a few more minutes before deciding that you needed to help him. Setting your book down on your bed, you got up and went to his room. The door was cracked open slightly and you could see Dean in his bed. His fists were clenched in the bedsheets and the veins in his neck were sticking out from how tense he was. His brows were furrowed and there was a slight sheen of sweat on him.

Carefully, you made your way to his bed and softly climbed over the top to him. You reached out and stroked your hand through his hair gently. You started to hum ‘You are my sunshine’. Your mother used to sing it to your little sister when you were a kid, so when you needed a distraction, you’d hum it to yourself. Slowly, his body relaxed under your fingers and his breathing evened back out. His head turned towards you and he let out a soft sigh.

“Thanks, Y/N.” He whispered as he fell back into a deep sleep. Once you were sure he wouldn’t wake up, you leaned over and kissed the top of his head before slipping back to your room. You read your book for another hour and waited to hear if Dean had any more nightmares before cuddling down into your blankets and shutting off the lamp. You drifted to sleep quickly.

***

You were sitting in the library of the bunker and Arti was sitting across from you. A grin stretched across your lips.

“Arti! You’re okay!”

He nodded. “Yes, little one. I have recovered my grace. It’s time I take control again.”

Your smile dropped instantly.

“O-oh.” 

“Is everything alright, Y/N?”

“I just- I’ll just miss the boys is all. Can I say goodbye to them first?”

He tilted his head to the side and frowned a little. “If you wish. Let me know when you are ready.” 

You blinked your eyes open in the darkness of your room. You took a shuddering breath. How were you supposed to say goodbye? Dean and Sam had quickly become your family. You didn’t want to give them up. But you had given yourself to Arti so that he could help people. People like you. Rather, like you had been. You realized that for the last couple of months, you’d been happy. Truly happy. And most of that had been because of Dean. You felt so whole when you were with him. How could you say goodbye? You couldn’t. Not really. You pulled a piece of paper and a pen from the desk and wrote a note. 

Dean-

I’m sorry. Arti’s recovered and I made a promise to be his vessel so it’s time for me to go and I’m too much of a coward to say goodbye directly to you. I want you to know that I won’t ever forget you. Or Sam. You gave me some great memories over the last 2 and ½ months. Singing along to music in Baby. Watching Dr. Sexy. Family dinners. Baking pies (and eating them!) Dancing in the rain... I’ll be reliving them in my haven forever. Thank you.  For everything.

Love, Y/N

You folded the note in half and wrote Dean’s name on the front. You propped it up on the desk and looked around your room. At your home. You debated going back to Dean’s room one more time to look at him. But you doubted that you’d be able to walk away from him if you did. You sighed.

“Ok, Arti. I’m ready.” Everything went dark.

Go to Chapter 4 >>>

#spnfanfic #dean winchester #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #fluff #angst #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #supernatural #behind these eyes #synmorite #synmoritewrites

[theheartchoice]

It's different this time. That's what Jack had said. The Empty took his body, Dean, removing his essence from this world. I can't bring him back like last time, and interfering in The Empty's realm would be dangerous. 

It made a detached sort of sense; Jack didn't want to end up like Chuck. Could be a slippery slope, that hands-on approach. But if there was anything worth an exception, it was this. Cas deserves to be saved. And if Jack won't fight then it's up to Dean. 

Which is how he came to be standing in an old familiar barn in Pontiac, Illinois, under a blue moon at midnight. It had taken months to gather all the spell components - the incantations and instructions in various ancient texts, smoke of a Crossroads Demon, and a piece of someone who had returned from The Empty; Jack couldn't bring Cas back but that doesn't mean he wasn't willing to help. He gave Dean one of his Nephilim feathers - not that he's technically a Nephilim anymore, but he kept his wings. Dean has no idea what they look like though because they're invisible to the human eye. 

Now he has everything. 

He actually had most of what he needed already: Cas' blood (from the handprint he left on Dean's jacket the night he..); something of Angelic origin for a baseline element (an Angel blade); an object imbued with personal significance (the mixtape Dean had made him years ago, that he found while searching Cas' room for anything); and Dean. 

Dean is the key piece of the puzzle here, because Cas lives within him. Kind of. Cas' Grace not only rebuilt Dean's body after Hell, it was gifted to him over the years, healing him time and time again. And from what's he's learned the Grace never fully left him after doing it's job. It hung around, orbiting Dean's soul (not unlike Cas, Dean thought, and it was a bittersweet thing). Maybe it's the source of their 'profound bond' but Dean knows what they share isn't just some side effect. 

What they have is real, Cas was right about that. 

In short: Cas' body may be in The Empty but his essence still exists outside of it, and Dean's going to use his connection with Cas to find him. 

He speaks the incantation to open the portal - a language so old it has no name - as sigils flare to life around him. The red smoke swims in the brass bowl, covering the patch of Dean's bloodied jacket and other items. The feather begins to pulse with golden light, illuminating its shape. 

As he finishes reciting the spell, a wet black flame erupts from the bowl, engulfing everything and snuffing out the warm brilliant light of Jack's feather. The sight alone fills Dean with dread, hurling his mind back to the night that thing stole Cas away. But he soldiers on, reaching out to touch the temperature-less globular flames growing tall in front of him, and a feeling of emptiness pervades him. 

If this is what it feels like just being near The Empty, then being in that place isn't gonna be some cake walk. 

Taking a deep breath to try and steady himself, Dean hesitates as his shoulder starts to burn. It's an odd sensation, growing stronger but not painful. He moves to shift aside his flannel—but the long-gone handprint shines through his layers of clothing, glowing pale blue. 

It's the bolster of courage he needs, and with a smile playing on his lips and in his heart, Dean reaches out, knowing for certain that he's not alone in this, and soon Cas won't be either. 

The world inks out to nothing, and he's falling.. but who's to say he's not flying? It worked, and he's going to find Cas and bring him home where he belongs. 

#destiel ficlet #spn 15x19 #fixit #profoundnet #spn 15x20 rewrite #i wrote a similar thing in my 15x19 coda but.. i wanted to write more :3 #myficlets

[onfreckledwings]

the taming of wild things.

the second of who knows how many for my “dean winchester deserved better” series. ♥️

In all his years on the road, Dean’s only seen the Milky Way twice. But it was never like this.

Stepping out onto the porch at Harvelle’s, he leans against one of the posts supporting the roof and crosses his arms.

Heaven’s night sky is nothing short of remarkable. Dean can see the entirety of the Milky Way with thousands of tiny diamonds studded across the ink-black canvas. The galaxy has a pinkish-purple hue, and Dean can every so often spot a shooting star.

He doesn’t need to wish on them anymore.

The wind blows gently around him, and it feels like a caress across his skin. He closes his eyes for a moment, and takes a deep, cleansing breath: the air is crisp, pungent with pine, woodsmoke, and a touch of rain in the winds.

Dean tilts his head back so that it’s resting against the post. It’s still buzzing from the wine and the laughter and tears from the ongoing party inside the roadhouse.

He feels a pang of something he can’t quite place in the space between his heart and gut.

He misses Sam.

Something resembling worry or guilt begins to creep into his belly; unfurling behind his ribs and spreading through his limbs, leaving a tremble in its wake.

He wishes his brother could be with him now, just for a moment. Or at least somehow assure him that Dean’s alright. And Dean wants to make sure that Sam is too.

“He is.”

Dean’s eyes snap open and glances over his shoulder towards the voice.

“Hey, Dad.”

John approaches Dean from the doorway and takes a spot next to him, grasping the back of his neck with a gentle squeeze of his hand. He nurses a bottle of beer with the other.

“Sammy’s alright.” John says as he brings the bottle to his lips.

Dean casts his eyes downward, fidgeting with the toe of his boot. He doesn’t question how John knows what’s on his mind. He figures it’s a spiritual plane thing. Or maybe a parental thing.

Dean sighs with a sad smile. “Yeah. I hope so.”

John’s hand slips down to rub soothing lines across the planes of Dean’s shoulders, and he can’t help but revel in it—just a little. It’s the affection he’s always craved from his father.

“You did good, son,” John offers gently. “Real good. Sammy’s in good hands with Eileen.”

Dean lifts his eyes to meet John’s. He purses his lips together with a slight nod. “Thanks.” He doesn’t smile, not really. But Dean can feel his eyes soften.

John places his beer bottle down on one of the patio tables before stepping in front of Dean. His eyes are sad, Dean finds, which causes him to furrow his brow.

“Dean, listen…” John begins, and drops his gaze to his feet before looking up again. Dean’s stomach churns. “I know what kind of father I was to you-”

“Dad, you don’t have t-”

“No, I do,” John urges, voice thick and gruff. “But more than that, you need to hear it.” He reaches to place a hand on the side of Dean’s face and strokes his hairline with his thumb.

“I am so sorry,” John whispers as tears well in his eyes. “I never should have put any of my crap on you after your mother died. You didn’t deserve any of it. All you ever did was put me and your brother first. Always. You raised him, and that wasn’t fair. You took care of us and I didn’t take care of you.”

John takes a shuddering breath. Dean just stares through flooded eyes.

“Dean, I put the entire world on your shoulders when that was my burden to bear.”

John pauses, and reaches up both hands now to frame Dean’s face.

“I am so sorry.”

Dean feels hot tears slipping unchecked down his cheeks. He licks his lips and tries to swallow past the lump in his throat —he can’t — and he lets out a shuddering breath as he stifles a sob.

“I am so proud of you,” John continues, tears of his own falling down his face. He reaches his right hand to place it over Dean’s heart with a pat.

“You are the best man I know,” John breathes, watery. “And I’m so proud to be able to call you my son.”

Something breaks inside of Dean then; waves of catharsis crash through him, like waves against the jagged shore. John pulls Dean into his arms as Dean falls into him, clinging to his back.

He cries. He cries for all the times he should have been allowed to as a child. He cries for all the cuts and scrapes and bruises that were never tended to; he cries for the trauma, the shame, and all the pain and guilt and anguish of inferiority. For the years of self-loathing and self-sacrifice.

He cries for himself and for his father. He can’t stop shaking as sobs wrack his body.

John holds Dean tightly, squeezes, and his next words are like a balm to Dean’s soul:

“I love you so much.”

*

It’s some time later when the proverbial dust has settled.

Dean and John sit on Baby’s hood, sipping fresh beers and watching the light show in the sky above. Dean’s eyes are puffy still, and he feels completely boneless and exhausted. He allows all of his weight to sink against the windshield where he lays, and he closes his eyes to breathe deeply.

He feels healed. Like everything that was ever twisted and broken inside of him has fallen away and been built anew.

“So, tell me about your angel,” John says, eyes unmoving from the stars above.

Dean chokes a little on his beer as his body straightens. He places his bottle down next to him on the Impala’s hood and wipes the dribble of beer off his chin with the back of his sleeve.

He coughs once before answering, cheeks flushed hot. “Whaddya wanna know?”

John chuckles as he meets Dean’s eyes and gently smacks him across his chest with the back of one hand. “Come on, Dean. You slow danced to Journey with the guy. I know he ain’t just some ‘friend’,” John teases with air quotes, wearing the most shit-eating-grin that Dean has ever seen.

Dean ducks his head with a smile, trying to hide the furious blush that creeps into his cheeks. He runs his hand through his hair, rucking it up every which way.

“Well uh, yeah...I mean. Y’know. He’s uh. He’s not just a friend,” Dean supplies eloquently while rubbing the back of his neck. He mentally smacks himself upside the head. Smooth, dude. Real smooth.

“No shit.”

They both toss their heads back in laughter, matching laugh lines appearing near their eyes before Dean clears his throat and tries again.

“Cas’n’ I met a long time ago,” Dean starts, reaching for his bottle to fidget with the label. “He uh, pulled me outta Hell after I made that deal for Sam. I stabbed him the first time I met him.”

I’m the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition.

John snickers. “Well that’s one way to a guy’s heart, I guess.”

“Only way I know,” Dean chides with a shrug as he brings the bottle to his lips. The beer is soothingly cold down his throat.

There’s a beat of companionable silence between them before Dean feels John’s hand clap his shoulder.

“I’m happy for you, son.” he says earnestly.

Dean drops his gaze with a smile, picking at his beer label again. “Thanks, Dad.”

John drinks from his bottle before giving Dean a smirk.

“Kind of a weird dude,” he teases.

Dean snickers and purses his lips. “Ah, a little. He grows on ya.”

Weird...dorky little guy.

A beat. “Only took a lil’ over twelve years,” he chastises himself gently. He feels something sad briefly cross his face before staring into the night sky.

John pats the side of Dean’s arm. “Love’s funny that way sometimes.”

Love.

Dean freezes and swallows dryly. His heart beats a little faster, because they don’t do this. They’ve never had a conversation like this. Especially about another guy.

“That’s what this is, right?” John asks, voice gritty with a smile. There’s not a hint of judgement in his voice. He sounds happy. “You love him?”

Dean looks down into his father’s gaze before licking his lips and glancing away for a millisecond. Almost self-conscious.

“Yeah.” He meets John’s fixed stare. “I do.”

John gives a watery grin. “Good.” And then he looks back up to the stars and takes a swig of his beer.

A puff of laughter escapes Dean’s lips as he does the same.

*

Harvelle’s door creaks open, and Dean grins as he lays sprawled out over the hood of his car, arms stretching out over the now vacant space beside him. He sits up straight and shifts his chin to the right; not enough to fully look over his shoulder, but he doesn’t need to see who is approaching.

He already knows.

“Hey Sunshine.”

Dean hops down off the car and makes the short stride to stand in front of Cas. He leans his hip against the passenger door, elbow resting on the roof. He clasps his hands together.

He gets lost in a sea of blue. Cas eyes bore into his soul.

“Hi,” Castiel says simply, reaching to run a hand down Dean’s shoulder.

Dean thinks they probably look like a couple of lovestruck idiots. Maybe they are.

Cas squints, and his eyes darken as he furrows his brow. “Your eyes,” he comments, and he reaches his hand to cup Dean’s cheek, brushing his thumb over the orbital bone.

Dean leans into Cas’s touch as he closes his eyes briefly, the angel’s hand warm and soft and huge.

“Are you alright?” he asks, lifting his free hand to brush Dean’s disheveled hair away from his forehead.

Dean hums softly and tilts his head to press a kiss into Cas’s palm. He shifts away from the car and leans closer into Cas’s space, resting his hands on the swell of the angel’s hips.

Moss green and cerulean blue.

Dean smiles a content, languid thing. He is so tired. Tired and healed and free.

“Yeah,” he whispers, voice thick and a little raw from crying.

Cas raises one eyebrow questioningly. “Dean—”

“Cas,” Dean whispers, reaching one hand to cup the curve of the angel’s jawline. “I’m okay. Me ‘n’ my dad...we were just setting some things straight.”

Cas gives a small nod, and fills the space between them completely as he encircles Dean’s waist, nuzzling into the crook of the hunter’s neck. Dean hums contentedly as he reaches a hand around Cas’s back, the other coming to cup the back of his head. Dean threads his fingers through the thick mess of black hair. His lips trail precariously close to the shell of Castiel’s ear.

“Good,” Cas says, voice layered thick with gravel.

Suddenly, Cas’s lips are trailing down Dean’s neck and he sucks at the pulse point, a maddening combination of teeth and lips before Dean feels the velvet heat of Cas’s tongue soothing over the bite.

“Oh.” Dean’s head starts to roll back but Cas is there, his hand catching the side of Dean’s face to steady him.

Dean opens his eyes (not even realizing he had closed them), and Cas is looking at him hungrily.

Fuck yeah.

Dean frames Cas’s face and dives in, and they’re finally — finally kissing in earnest, hot and deep and wet. It’s the best he’s ever had. Their tongues dance masterfully, lips sucking greedily, and Dean suddenly feels like his knees are gonna give out.

So he gently shoves Castiel against the passenger side door and presses his weight against him, and Dean grins through lips and tongue as Cas anchors him here.

Dean reaches to untuck Cas’s white dress shirt from his slacks, runs his hands underneath the fabric, and he moans when he finally gets to run his hands over the skin of Cas’s abdomen, his hips and the planes of his back. He’s soft and firm in all the right places.

Cas reaches down Dean’s waist and snakes his hands underneath his black tee, caressing the soft pudge of Dean’s belly before the angel’s hands go higher and his thumbs brush over Dean’s nipples.

Jesus. He’s growing hard already, and he shifts to slot against Cas’s pelvis and — yep.

Dean pulls back with a pant and stares into Cas’s blown pupils. “Everything works up here, huh?”

Cas just grins a gummy wide smile as they touch foreheads, panting and squeezing and touching bare skin.

“Jack and I built a house for you,” Cas says breathily, and maybe a little rushed before Dean brushes their lips together again and rolls against Cas’s hips. The angel’s head luls back and Dean runs a hand up the column of his neck.

“Us — you mean for us, right?” and it comes out a little needier than Dean wants, but he can’t be bothered to care in this moment.

“If that’s...what you want,” Cas pants, eyes never leaving Dean’s.

Dean grips the collar of Cas’s shirt and pulls Cas closer, noses brushing. “Yes, dumbass. I want,” he chuckles. And then Dean’s opening his mouth and kissing Cas again.

This is Heaven.

#supernatural #destiel #deancas #dean winchester #dean and John #fix-it fic #spn coda #I did a thing

[deansmom]

dean: [does something that seems inconspicuous but is actually offering his whole ass heart to Cas on a platter, fully expecting Cas to understand what he’s trying to say because he can low key read deans mind]

cas: oh, wow Dean, this is such a wonderful thing friends do.

dean: yea - wait, no, Cas -

cas: 🥰 wow I really value our friendship too Dean.

dean: [giving Cas way too much credit here, assuming that Cas is trying to let him down easily] yeah... haha, friendship, right 😅 definitely don’t want to kiss you or anything haha, bros.

And then this continues for a while every time Dean builds up the bravery to try again, because people keep telling him that Cas does like him. And every time he tries to say it, tries a grand gesture, and Cas is just like. Not fucking getting it.

So then in purgatory deans like fuck it, whatever, we might die - I’ll just do it, I’ll just kiss him. Worse case scenario, we both fucking die anyways! And Cas kisses him back and deans like “!!!! Finally!!!! He DOES care about me!!!” But then Cas doesn’t get out of purgatory with him and as soon as he finds Cas top side again, he realizes that the big dingdong still doesn’t know how much Dean loves him so he’s like fine, fuck it, whatever, he’s just. Not interested or not wired that way or fucking something man, COME ON.

(That’s not the end of it though, and eventually Dean just stops caring that Cas doesn’t seem to give a flying fuck about Dean drowning in his feelings for this idiot Angel, so sometimes when he thinks Cas is dead or he actually was dead or he thought he was about to be dead, Dean let’s himself be selfish and just. Kisses him. Because Cas really doesn’t seem to care and it makes him feel better when he’s pathetic and moping in his room)

Sam, Charlie, Jack, etc all watch this in mixed horror and amusement. Sam frequently compares it to a slow motion car crash, watching Dean work up the nerve to do something that he thinks is so obvious (it isn’t, but dean‘s trying so hard) and then watching the point just fly over Castiel’s head. Charlie tries to guide Cas in the direction of the big neon sign above deans head that says ‘IN LOVE WITH CASTIEL’ but he insists that Dean is just his best friend. Jack just flat out asks him if Dean is in love with Cas, why aren’t they together, and Cas tells him that he’s wrong. And jack’s like “??? I can literally see it but lol ok whatever Cas.” And Jack tells Dean about the conversation later and Dean wants to die knowing that he’s that fucking obvious and wondering what’s wrong with him that Cas finds him so deeply and profoundly unappealing.

And then the world is ending and chuck’s about to kill them and fucking Billie is pissed and Cas just hits him with the

cas: knowing the one thing I want, I can’t have

And Dean is like 60% sure he knows what’s going on in that moment but then Cas says the

cas: happiness isn’t in the having

And deans like “is this - is this guy for real? Is he fucking serious? Is he????? DOES HE LOVE ME????” But his brain won’t make words come out of his mouth because he accepted years ago that Cas just wasn’t capable of loving somebody like that. And he’s just???? LOVING DEAN???? Like it’s nothing?!

And Cas throws down an

cas: I love you

And it’s all Dean can do not to scream WHAT THE FUCK CASTIEL??????

And then Cas is alive and Dean is so frustrated and desperate and ANGRY with him that he just yanks Cas into a bruising kiss because he’s here and he’s alive and he’s SO FUCKING DUMB AND DEAN LOVES HIM SO MUCH

dean: don’t you ever!!!! Do that!!!! Again!!!!

cas: [trying to talk through Dean shoving his tongue down his throat] do what?

dean: DIE. I LOVE YOU, YOU IDIOT.

cas: Dean I love you too, you and Sam are like family to me-

dean: CASTIEL DO I HAVE TO SUCK YOUR DICK RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW, IN FRONT OF EVERYONE??? BECAUSE I’LL FUCKING DO IT IF IT’LL FINALLY GET IT THROUGH YOUR THICK ASS DUMB ASS HEAD THAT I AM EMBARRASSINGLY, HOPELESSLY, PAINFULLY IN LOVE WITH YOU. ROMANTICALLY.

cas: ........what?

dean: I AM ROMANTICALLY IN LOVE WITH YOU. I HAVE BEEN FOR SO FUCKING LONG YOU IDIOT.

cas: 👁👄👁

dean: YOU ARE SO LUCKY I LOVE YOU

cas: so you... love me? Like... more than platonically?

dean: [starts unbuckling Cas’s belt even though there’s like a dozen people around them] [promptly drops to his knees] YES.

cas: ......oh. I love you too.

dean: I know!!!! Why didn’t you say anything!!!!

cas: WHY DIDNT YOU?????

dean: I tried!!!!! All over the fucking place Cas!!!! I did everything short of saying it outright!!!!

cas: you should’ve done that!!!!

dean: WOULD YOU EVEN HAVE NOTICED

And this would continue for like ten minutes until somebody tells Dean to get off the floor because he’s hurting his knees. And then they lived happily ever after (but Dean never lets cas live it down that he could’ve had years, YEARS, of sex with Dean and he turned down so many advances) (Castiel has briefly considered divorcing dean during a new of the many reminders of this)

#deancas for ts #absolute fucking idiots I tell you #also this is legitimately canon jfc limqoiuhvgh I hate it here #otp: cursed or not #personal #mackenzie attempts fics #kinda?

[fanfic-corner]

15x18 Fics - !SPOILERS AHEAD!

I think we can all agree that everyone - fans or not - were pretty shocked by the reveal of last week, and everywhere (Tumblr most of all) seemed to explode. AO3 was not exempt from this massive outpouring of creations, so here are some fics based on That Scene. I will warn you that not all of them are fix-it fics, and most of them are quite short for obvious reasons.

Like Real People Do by prosopopeya on AO3. (4,490 words).

Tags: Coda, Episode Fix-it, Fluff and Angst, Spoilers, Post Episode: s15e18 Despair, Angst with a Happy Ending.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: Castiel experienced a moment of pure happiness, expecting it to be his last. It wasn't. 

Notes: This was so poetic and absolutely gorgeous.

The same old tears (wish you were here) by DestielIsFuckinReal on AO3. (1,992 words).

Tags: Temporary Character Death, Post Episode: s15e18 Despair, Coda, Love Confessions, Angst with a Happy Ending.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Notes: The speech marks were slightly annoying, but other than that, this was beautiful.

Never Enough by make_your_user_a_name on AO3. (1,556 words).

Tags: Post Episode: s15e18 Despair, Angst, Suicidal Thoughts, Love Confessions, Supportive Sam Winchester, Sam Winchester Knows, Domestic Fluff.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: 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.

Notes: Now this fic brought out the ugly tears.

this is a good thing, dean. (prayer is a sign of faith) by cascountsdeansfreckles on AO3. (529 words).

Tags: Prayer, Dean Winchester Prays to Castiel, post 15x18, 15x18 coda.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: 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.

Notes: Okay, and I’m crying. Again. The one time Cas can’t hear Dean’s prayers is the one time it is the most important.

all the things i’ve never said by Saffir on AO3. (849 words).

Tags: 15x18 Fix-it, Angst, Heavy Angst, First Kiss, Confessions, Sad Ending, Nonbinary Castiel.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: Castiel knows that their time has come. The past decade has been spent protecting Dean, living for Dean, dying for Dean. It finally comes time to sacrifice themself one last time. He wasn’t expecting it to hurt this much.

Notes: Confirmation of their relationship would have been nice! I mean, I firmly believe Dean reciprocated, but it would be nice to know for sure. And oh boy, I had not stopped to think about the scene from Cas’ point of view.

gay love pierced through the veil of death and saved the day by firefliesandstarlight on AO3. (444 words).

Tags: Fix-it, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives.

My Rating: 4 stars.

Description: Cas doesn’t die. That’s literally it.

Notes: Is it bad I found out that Charlie died through the end notes of this fic? Like, imagine writing a scene so moving that it overpowers the fact that several other fan favourites died in that same episode.

15x18 coda: it’s in the being by contemplativepancakes on AO3. (1,167 words). 

Tags: Post Episode: s15e18 Despair, Coda, Dean Winchester Can’t Cope, Hurt Dean Winchester.

My Rating: 4 stars.

Description: 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.

Notes: I don’t even know what to say anymore. My heart is simultaneously full and utterly broken.

1 Missed Call by glenien on AO3. (597 words).

Tags: Post Episode: s15e18 Despair, Referenced Character Death, Angst, Dean Winchester is a Dumbass, Angst with a Happy Ending, Death!Castiel, Coda, Fluff and Angst.

My Rating: 4 stars.

Description: The buzzing never stops.

Notes: I love the implications of Dean literally flirting with Death here, and even though this isn’t the ending I think we’ll get, I can still hope!

Only know you love him when you let him go by Azura_lights_18 on AO3. (1,365 words).

Tags: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Post Episode: s15e18 Despair, Hurt/Comfort, Dean Deserves to be Happy, Angst with a Happy Ending.

My Rating: 4 stars.

Description: Destiel is finally canon... for ten seconds. My hopes for the upcoming episodes (just let Destiel live, please.)

Notes: I am loving the inventive ways people are bringing Cas back! I have hope, but that might just be me putting my clown wig on.

maybe just this once (let me keep this one) by psyiocke on AO3. (1,678 words).

Tags: Episode: s15e18 Despair, Canonical Character Death, Angst with a Happy Ending.

My Rating: 4 stars.

Description: Dean Winchester listens in silence, and he mourns in it too.

or the aftermath of hearing your best friend say he loves you and then watching him die.

Notes: Oh boy here I go again. That tag, by the way, is much too soon. But if this is what happened at the end, I would be happy.

Instinct by CKLizzy on AO3. (510 words).

Tags: Fix-it of Sorts, Episode s15e18 Despair, Episode Fix-it.

My Rating: 4 stars.

Description: Dean reacted on pure instinct. Instinct he didn't know he even had.

Notes: Oh, if only. I would have passed out.

A World Redeemed by Lif61 on AO3. (732 words).

Tags: Season 15 Spoilers, Post Episode: s15e18 Despair, POV Dean Winchester, Romance, Love, Happy Ending.

My Rating: 3 stars.

Description: Cas is gone, and the world is saved. But not for Dean.

Notes: I do really hope Cas comes back. Otherwise, I’m gonna have to go and have some words with someone.

Happiness is What Makes You Cry by AnotherWorld3111 on AO3. (358 words).

Tags: Angst, Referenced Character Death, Canonical Character Death, Post Episode: s15e18 Despair, Hurt No Comfort, Love Confessions.

My Rating: 3 stars.

Description: Just... read the goddamn tags

Notes: Oh man, if Dean actually breaks down in front of Sam, I will die on the spot.

All Out of Love by asofthesea on AO3. (681 words).

Tags: Not Actually Unrequited Love, Angst and Feels, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Post Episode: s15e18 Despair, Homophobic John Winchester, Protective Sam Winchester, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt Jack Kline, One Shot, Brotherly Love, Feelings.

My Rating: 3 stars.

Description: After the events of 15x18, Despair, Sam and Jack rush back to the bunker to find Dean alone, and falling apart at the seams.

Notes: John Winchester would have been homophobic and no one can change my mind.

Tag to “Despair” (15x18) by Alvinola on AO3. (793 words).

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort.

My Rating: 3 stars.

Description: Sam has to pick up the pieces when Cas is gone.

Notes: Seriously, these fics are making me cry all over again. I mean, what can Sam possibly say to make any of this better? That’s heartbreaking in itself.

And a shameless self-promotion:

‘I love you’ by LinaRai on AO3. (420 words).

Tags: Angst, Episode: s15e18 Despair, Spoilers, Canonical Character Death, I’m Sorry.

Description: "I love you." Dean just stares at him.

Notes: I wrote this in a Criminology lesson while eating a bag of crisps which basically equated to my lunch because I was a mess and I had to. And yes, I am fully aware that I write things with major character death too often. So sue me.

So, how is everyone feeling? I’ve started re-reading Angel’s Wild in a wild (get it) attempt to cope. Also, this led to me having a full conversation with one of my teachers about Sherlock. ‘Maybe next time don’t use a current show as an example of queerbaiting,’ she said, as if any of us expected Destiel to go canon. Seriously, how do you explain to a 40 year old woman who only just realised that BBC Sherlock might possibly be queerbaiting how much no one expected that to happen? 

#supernatural #destiel #15x18 #15x18 spoilers #ficrecs #fanfic