#and he asks questions like a curious child: like if Cas is an Angel why can't he fly | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wormstacheangel · 3 years

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Happy Birthday, Bec ( @chocolatecakecas)! Have some momma Dean and Daddy Cas get together :)

wc: 2.5k

Dean holds the preschool’s scrunched-up flyer in his hand before letting out a heavy sigh. He never thought he would ever celebrate Mother’s Day again, and he especially never thought that he would be the mother who would be celebrated.

He begged Cas not to make him do this, but it wasn’t Cas who he was afraid to disappoint.

Dean stuffed the paper back into his pocket before walking over to the front office to check-in for this Muffin with Mom event. He talked to the school beforehand to check if it was okay for him to show up to this event, but they already knew he was ‘Momma’ to Jack, so they saw it coming. Of course, they did but Dean sure as fuck didn’t.

He walks into the office and follows the signs that lead outside to the big grass area that transformed from a play area to a nicely decorated picnic area. Everything was pink, from the flowers to the plastic table cloths, but it didn’t feel too overwhelming because they were outside. His eyes spotted the small photo op area, and he couldn’t wait to get some cute pictures of him and Jack so Cas can add to his album.

At least that would be worth the embarrassment.

Dean joined some of the familiar faces of the sea of ladies that crowded the classroom doors—waiting for the kids to be let loose and get this party finally started. He smiles and waves at them, knowing them from pick up and playdate parties at their homes.

Dean and Cas know they can never host one at their home in the lakehouse cause while the outside has invisible warding, the inside looked like a crazy person lived in there. It was a heavily warded place that hides them for a good few miles to any supernatural monster— angels included, so it’s a good thing Cas knows how to use google maps or he would always skip their street— but the inside Jack was free to let his wings out and practice his powers.

“Okay!” He looks up to see Jack’s classroom open up. “Go find your Moms!”

He walks closer, seeing little rugrats running past him, and crouches until he meets the gaze of his little angel. “Hiya, bud!”

“Momma!” Jack shouts as he sprints to him and then jumps into Dean’s arms, almost knocking him back with his strength. Jack snuggles into Dean’s shoulder as he wraps his arms around his neck, staying locked in place as Dean stands up.

“Why are you surprised? Told you I was gonna come.” Dean rubs his hand up and down his back as they follow the group of moms to line up for the food. Other classes start to open up, and Dean at least wanted something to damn snack on while he’s here.

“I know.” Jack pulls back and presses Dean’s cheeks together with his little hands, and luckily with none of his strength. “I was just scared.”

“Why?” Dean asks with puckered lips.

“Cause,” Jack sighs before leaning back down to rest his head on Dean’s shoulder. His tiny fist is holding the collar of his jacket in a tight grip. “I know you’re not a Momma like the other Momma’s.”

Dean’s stomach drops at the words.

He quickly got out of line and went inside his now empty classroom so they can talk. Dean hates these tiny chairs, but he sat down anyway, hoping it won’t break from under him, before pulling Jack away to face him.

“Jack,” He was stubborn, but a little tickling always did the trick. Dean takes Jack’s face in between his hands so he would look at him. “I am not like the other Momma’s, but I am still yours. That’s why I’m here, right?”

Jack nods, a small smile on his face that was a carbon copy of Cas’s own.

“I better be, cause I heard you owe me a muffin!” Dean leans forward to gently bite Jack’s cheek, who giggles and screams while he pushed Dean away with child strength.

“Stop! Momma!” Jack laughs before Dean showers his face with kisses so that he could see the pout leave and a bright grin appear. One that made Dean love life so much more than he ever thought he could.

“Love you.” Dean places a final kiss on Jack’s nose. Only for Jack to copy him and repeat, “Love you.”

They went back outside and had to go to the back of the line, but with Jack in his arms, he was perfectly content. He loves hearing his little four-year-old ramble on while telling a story.

When they got their food—a muffin and some damn apple juice, he’s going to have to take Jack to lunch after this—they went to sit at a crowded table that was calling for Dean to join them. Usually, everyone enjoys Cas’s company a lot more than his, but right now, they had Dean to play with, and he didn’t mind getting the attention of all the milf’s in school.

He sat down in the middle of the table with Jack on his lap so Dean can make sure his kid at least eats a bit of the muffin before running around with the rest of his friends. The whole mommy and me event just became a big chance for mommy’s to gossip, and he couldn’t help but wanna be a part of it.

They were all talking about a Mom who didn’t show up and instead sent the babysitter when Jack finally got inpatient and ran off to play with his friends. When Jack was out of earshot, all eyes fell on Dean when he stuffed almost half a muffin in his mouth. He looks at them with raised eyebrows, asking them a silent, “What?” as their smiles spelled trouble for Dean.

“We heard from the secretary that you and Castiel aren’t together...together.” Liz whispers the last word as she leaned closer to him.

“That’s not a secret.” Dean swallows the rest of the muffin and finishes off the apple juice. “Cas and me are friends.”

“Really?” Carmen sat back in her chair, looking as if the universe didn’t make sense anymore. All eyes fell on Liz again, as if she was chosen to be the ring leader to ask all these questions.

“But you guys talk about each other like—I was gonna say like I talk about my husband, but that’s not true. I complain more than anything, but you two are always--you’re like a team. Like an actual team! And the way--the way you look at each other!”

“Okay,” Dean clears his throat, feeling his face heat up. “I don’t know what you are getting at, but Cas and I are best friends. We’re just raising his kid together. My brother helps too. It’s not-It’s just not like that with us.”

“But, do you want it to be?” Carmen leans in again, and Dean looks around at the milf’s that thought Cas and him were a married couple. “Cause it kinda looks like you want it to be.”

Dean opened his mouth to answer defensively cause, of course, he didn’t. He was perfectly fine living his domestic life with Cas and Jack. Maybe they were not a traditional family, but there was no damn way they would ever be with ⅔ of the family being celestial beings. Still, going to bed alone was getting harder each night. The longing stares have become heavier, and all the missed opportunities were starting to weigh on him.

He wanted so much more, but how can he ask for that when this is already the happiest he has ever been and the happiest he has ever seen Cas. He can’t risk making it awkward by expressing his feelings that may not be reciprocated. That’s fucking embarrassing for one, but Dean also didn’t want to risk losing the closest thing he has ever gotten to having a family of his own.

“It’s not that simple.” Dean finally groaned as he ran his hand through his hair. “Things are complicated between us.”

“Well, uncomplicate them!” Liz hits his arm to grab Dean’s attention before he falls back into his head.

“Mommy! Come watch me on the swings!” One of the kids call for them, and all the rest of the kids came running over, Jack included. But by the look of Jack’s face, Dean can tell the superhearing was working perfectly fine.

“Come here, bud.” Dean opens his arms, and while the rest of the mothers got up to watch their kid play, Jack stayed curled up in Dean’s arms as they finish their muffins together.

“Momma?”

“Yeah, bud?”

“We’re a real family, right?”

Dean presses a kiss to Jack’s hair. “Course we are, Jack. Me and your Daddy love you.”

“And you love each other?” He looks up at Dean with those same piercing blue eyes and curious look that he found so fond in Cas.

“Always have.” Dean quickly answers as he squeezes his kid. “Now eat so we can take some pictures.”

Dean ends up taking Jack home, with the preschool arts and crafts presents in the passenger seat, because maybe Dean does have to get his head out of his ass. Cause Dean knows Cas loves him. Was it the same kind of love Dean felt? Who knows? But they are going to find out.

“We’re just gonna pick up Daddy and go out to get some real food in you. Got it, bud?” Dean looks over at the rearview mirror to see a thumbs up and an excited grin.

“Got it, Momma!”

When Dean parks the car outside, he told Jack to wait in the car—the kid can turn on the car and play with the radio with his mind, he’ll be fine— while he went inside to tell Cas to get ready.

“I’m home!” Dean called out as soon as he was in the house and then hears an “In here!” coming from the bathroom. He walks in to see Cas was under the bathroom sink, all the cleaning products spread around him, probably fixing that leak that was bothering him so much.

“Hey,” Dean kicks him gently to get his attention before crouching beside him. “Go get ready. I have Jack in the car; let’s go have some lunch.”

Cas scooted out from under the sink, and when he sat up, his face was only inches away from Dean’s own. He looked utterly unphased from being so close while Dean’s breath hitched at feeling Cas’s sigh touch his lips.

“I don’t even eat, Dean.” Cas wipes his hands on a towel before pushing himself up to stand. Dean took a shaky breath before he stands up too. “And why did you take Jack from school so early?”

Dean follows Cas out of the bathroom and into Cas’s bedroom, “You eat sometimes and cause I wanted to have some family time.” Dean sits at Cas’s bed as he watches the angel change into a clean shirt, his back muscles as beautiful as usual. “And I just, I think we should talk.”

Cas turns around to look at Dean with a curious head tilt. “About?”

Dean stood up to slowly walk over to Cas, not meeting his eyes, as he whispers, “Us.” Dean can see Cas start to look panic at the word, and before Cas could say anything, Dean leans forward to press his lips at the corner of Cas’s mouth. “I wanna know how you feel about us.”

Cas stood wide-eyed as Dean pulls away. He waits for an answer, but the angel was just staring at him with fingers twitching to reach and hold something. Dean took Cas’s hand and twined their fingers together; hopefully, that is what Cas wanted.

“I know we’re just playing pretend here,” Dean continues as he looks down at their hands. “But I’m tired of playing, Cas. I want, fuck okay, shit, I just-- I want to-I want,”

“Yes?” Cas leans in closer, urging Dean to continue, but Dean wasn’t sure he could, so he looks up to see Cas lick those soft lips.

He knows he wasn’t good at using his words, but he has always been good at showing, doing, so he lets out a quiet, “Fuck it.” Before letting actions speak.

His free hand went to the back of Cas’s neck to hold him as their lips crashed together. Dean knew Cas could pull away whenever he wanted with his angel strength, but he also knew Cas was letting Dean take the lead in this. Letting Dean push him up against the dresser and kiss him with panic but also so much love. Cause he loves him. He loves Cas. He was so fucking in love with him that it drove him crazy at times, but he couldn’t imagine doing this domestic life with anybody else.

“I love you.” Dean finally breaths against Cas’s lips. It overwhelmed him to finally have those words said aloud while Cas’s hands were burning his skin from under his shirt, but it also made him feel lighter. To say the words he wanted to scream. “I love you so much, Cas.”

Cas’s grip loosened for a second before it tightened, and Dean took that opportunity to open his eyes to look at him. To read the unreadable.

He leans back to see Cas’s baby blue’s water.

“Cas?”

Cas responds with a few blinks, tears falling freely now, as his expression softens at his name. “Yes?” One of Cas’s hands reached to slowly caress Dean’s face as if trying to see if this was real. If Dean was real.

“Kinda pouring my heart out here, buddy, maybe wanna respond?” Dean turns his head just enough to press a kiss to Cas’s palm, hearing Cas let out a small gasp.

“I’m confused. This morning you left telling me you were gonna kick my ass for sending you to the preschool, and now,” Cas leans forward, slowly and hesitantly, but Dean didn’t move. He closes his eyes and waits until their lips met again. Feeling his heart pound and breath catch as the kiss was softer this time. His head flooded with so much want, but Cas quickly pulls away as he continued, “And now I can do that.”

“Yeah,” Dean’s eyes flutter open as he clears his throat. “Yeah, Momma had a little push from the milf’s this morning, and I just realized that I want— I want you. I want us to be together like a real family. Cause I love you and-and, it would be nice if you fucking said it back sometime soon.”

Cas laughs a low chuckle that made Dean’s toes curl as he leans forward again to press their noses together. “I love you too, Dean.”

“Took you long enough.” Dean was going in for another kiss, but the car horn made them both jump. “Shit, our kid still in the car.”

Dean leaves a kiss on Cas’s cheek, feeling more intimate than the last few kisses. “Get ready. I’ll wait for you in the car.” Dean didn’t meet Cas’s eyes as his blush rose to his cheeks.

Tag List: hello this is long enough to tag you guys :)

@tearsofgrace @nguyenxtrang @smiledean @chocolatecakecas

@blue-eyed-cutiepatootie @shelikestv @spicyspiess @icefire149

@archervale @starlightcastiel @sierraxnevada

@lexies-obsessions-and-memes @castiel-is-a-cat @slipper007

@belacoded @takemetotheworld @imlivingliferightnow

@celestialcastiel @manifestingdestiel @sinnabonka

@confusedisaster @wikiangela @carryonwaywardsquirrel

@my-people-skillls-are-rusty @thefaeriemagic3 @wigglebox

@im-sam-fucking-winchester @becky-srs @thefantasyfiend

@deanwinchesterstentaclefetish @achillestiel @sarahblakenatural

@likepurplemuses @marichankitty @castielkrushnic @bestiegirlboss

@martymar1963 @destielfactory @mjthehumandisaster

@misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @destielskygalaxypalace

@trasherasswood @s-r-clowns @eshaninjer

@readeroftheimmortalbooks

#i see this as a baby jack truthing and this is set in s13 lol idk why #cas lives and dean lives and they are just in hiding living domestic lives in the lakehouse #also dean is momma cause frog #hope you like it bec!#destiel #dadstiel #dad!dean #kid!jack #fic #destiel fic #first kiss #wormstachewrites #my writing #deancas fic #spn #supernatural

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and-stir-the-stars · 2 years

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Dear Winter

for @dadstielweek's winter weekend prompt: day 3, Home || Heaven has always had its own ecosystem outside of the simulations where human souls are held, though Heaven's natural ecosystem has been in ruins for eons. Post-finale, Cas has finally been able to repair some of the damage, and wants to share his childhood home and customs with his child. || (Ao3) || Wordcount: 3323

“So this is your favorite heaven.”

Jack’s eyes narrowed against the blazing sun. The hot rays of light poured down on them and sparked like fire against the droplets of dew adorning the deep, idyllic green grass. Flowers dominated the landscape, their fragrance so thick in the air that Jack could practically taste the sweet charm of nectar upon their tongue.

Castiel bowed his head away from the delicate blue sky, facing Jack with a gentle grin carved on his face. “Yes. Or it was,” he amended. “Back when human heavens were still compartmentalized.”

“The human who resides here, Ray Pinder,” Jack said. “He’s visiting his family now. He’s happy.”

“Family.” The smile on Cas’ face went crooked as Jack met his eyes. “I imagine he would be very happy, right about now.”

“He is. The happiest he’s ever been. But,” Jack looked at the landscape surrounding them, from the trees that soared up into the sky to the mosses dancing across the chalky surface of rocks. “I can see why he enjoys it here, and why you wanted me to see it. It’s peaceful. I like it.”

“This place has been a refuge to me for years, but this isn’t what I meant when I said I had a surprise for you.”

Jack turned a curious gaze toward Castiel, and for the first time noticed that the eager and nervous glint that had been lighting their father’s eyes since he had first mentioned having a surprise for Jack was still within his bright blue eyes. “What else is there?”

Rising from the stone bench, Cas turned and offered Jack his hand to pull them from their temporary resting place. Jack’s fingers fit perfectly into the spaces between their father’s, and Jack kept their hand interlocked in Castiel’s even after they rose from the bench. Castiel led Jack to a large mass of cypress trees and shrubbery with both of their hands still swaying in the air between them.

“Dad?” Jack tried when the angel reached up to search through the leaves and shrubs.

“It should be right…” The vegetation bent and twisted under Castiel’s touch, and a wall of green went leaping toward them. Jack moved back half a step in surprise, but Cas angled a pleased look at his child. “Here.”

Cocking their head at the mass of flowers and leaves, Jack’s lips worked with the beginning of a question before the nephilim noticed the silver, shiny knob protruding from the vegetation. “A door,” Jack murmured, eyes narrowing. Jack had rebuilt Heaven with their own hands, had pieced it together from near destruction after absorbing Chuck’s power; even the sections that Cas had helped with, Jack had been sure to look them over thoroughly, and the nephilim knew for a fact that door wasn’t meant to be there.

“What did you do?” Jack asked, though they couldn’t quite keep the laugh from their voice. It seemed even in Heaven, neither Jack nor their father could stay out of trouble.

Cas pushed the door open wider. “You’ll find out if you go inside.”

The door swung open to reveal a blackness behind it, an unnatural blackness like someone had cast a spell to keep its secrets hidden. Staring into the abyss, curiosity raged inside Jack’s chest, buzzing fiercely within them as Jack stepped forward with Castiel’s warm hand wrapped comfortingly, encouragingly around their own.

Everything went black as the two passed through the threshold. Jack held tightly onto their father’s hand as they felt the fabric of Heaven twist and coil beneath them before spitting them both out into the unknown.

Jack stumbled when their feet hit the ground again, eyes blinking hard as the lighting visibly changed around them, but Castiel held them steady. The chirping of birdsong from Ray Pinder’s section of heaven was gone, Jack noted even before their eyes adjusted, replaced by an intricate hum that was reminiscent of the quiet whoosh of a light breeze. Except it wasn’t the sound of a breeze; it was alive in the same way the croak of a frog was alive.

Then, Jack’s eyes adjusted. At first, it almost seemed to be nighttime. There was darkness all around, but not a pitch-black, heavy darkness like before. This darkness was soft and it spoke of life and promise, like the gentle shadow cast behind a wanderer travelling toward greatness by nothing but starlight. Plantlife surrounded them, Jack noticed. It was thick, like they were in the middle of a wild plain, and the vegetation was coated with a soft sheen of snow that sparkled with light reflected from an unknown source.

“Well?” Cas asked, free hand lowering from where he had held Jack upright. “What do you think?”

“It’s--” Jack stopped abruptly, eyes glued to the space just in front of their father’s face. “There’s no fog.”

The nervous excitement on Cas’ face faltered. “Why would there be fog?”

“It’s not cold,” Jack said, and Cas’ head tilted. There was snow on the ground, and it wasn’t even cold. Puffs of gaseous vapor should have been escaping with every breath the two of them took, and yet there was nothing. Jack crouched, reaching to touch the glimmering snow at their feet, but what their fingers grasped at wasn’t snow. It was just… grass. White grass. Shadows danced across the planes of Jack’s hands as they ran through the strange grass, and with a startled gasp the nephilim realized the light wasn’t reflecting from any snow-covered surfaces as they had previously thought; the crisp white light was emanating from the grass itself.

Tearing their gaze away from what should have been grass, Jack noticed more things they had missed, things that didn’t make sense.

Wherever they were, it wasn’t snowy at all. The plants were all white, and that was just the beginning. Jack was used to plants having one almost universal similarity: they grew upwards, striving to reach the sun. These plants, however, didn’t seem to care about such a thing; they grew in every and any which way with an almost alien directionlessness. Some of them had leaves larger than Jack’s face, some curled and spiraled in on themselves in unrecognizable shapes, and some had leaves angled into long, boney points. And then there was the glowing. What Jack had first taken to be distant flowers were really auras of light; some plants were emitting a pure white bioluminescent glow, like the grass, but Jack could see blues, purples, pinks, and colours they couldn’t quite put a name to all around, as well. The lights shone soft and fuzzy where they pushed against the darkness, and like fairy lights delicately strung around the cornice of a child’s room, the glow was soft, warm, and welcoming in nature.

“Where are we?” Jack asked in an awed whisper as they turned back to meet their father’s gaze.

“Heaven,” Castiel said, the gleaming plants reflecting in his eyes as he returned Jack’s gaze. “Or a recreation of what Heaven used to be, a long time ago.”

“You did this?”

Cas cleared his throat a tad awkwardly. “I know I should have told you,” the angel murmured, eyes slipping toward his feet briefly. “But this was something that I wanted-- something I needed to do on my own.”

“It’s beautiful,” Jack breathed out.

“It is, isn’t it?” Castiel’s voice rumbled as he looked out over the landscape with a faint quirk of the lips. “This side of Heaven, it… it had to be torn down, millennia ago, so places to house human souls could be built, and after all the wars… there just wasn’t any time to think of restoration.” Castiel cleared his throat, shaking his head as though to push that all aside. “But now that angels are being returned to Heaven, I want things to be different. This is the Heaven I came from, and I wanted to share it with you. In a way, this is where you come from, too, and you deserve the chance to know it. That is, if you want to.”

“This is your home,” Jack said to the hesitant hope on Castiel’s countenance. “Of course I want to.”

Cas chuckled softly as Jack spun in a circle, analyzing their surroundings again.

“It’s so dark,” Jack murmured. “Is it nighttime here?”

“No. You’d need a moon for that,” Cas said. “And a sun.”

“There’s no sun? How are you supposed to see more than three feet in front of you?” Jack squinted at the warm but not at all brightly illuminating plantlife.

Castiel lifted his chin and motioned Jack to come closer with the crook of his finger. The nephilim obeyed and was met with their father splaying his palm directly over Jack’s heart. A blaze of bluish light burst behind Castiel’s eyes; a presence brushed against Jack’s Grace, coaxing it forward with a playful push. Something inside the nephilim’s core clicked; their Grace poured outward and their eyes flared gold.

After a long moment, the lights faded from both of their eyes. Suddenly, the world around them seemed sharper, more crisp and well-defined, and Jack gasped when their vision cleared.

It had been hidden in the darkness before, but rising into the sky were stretches of dirt and rock. The ground here wasn’t flat. Jack laughed at the delightful absurdity of the revelation. The ground was a twisting mass that arched to and fro into the atmosphere like solar flares branching out from the surface of the sun. Lights were shining in the sky, but they weren't stars; it was the gleam of plantlife speckled on the ground above their heads.

Almost before they knew what they were doing, Jack was spreading their wings and soaring up to touch the twisted ground. Except, somewhere along the way, Jack found that they were flying downwards, not upwards. It was as though someone had turned the world upside down while Jack was in mid-flight; somehow, Jack landed feet-first on a stretch of solid sky with the ground on which they had just been standing suspended above their head.

“This is awesome!” Jack bounced up and down, practically vibrating with excitement as Castiel landed beside them.

The angel gave a modest lift of the shoulders, but he could not keep the smile from his face as he looked at the world he was so tenderly piecing together and at the blithe wonder it was instilling within his child. “It’s a start,” the angel murmured.

“I feel like I’m in Star Wars, visiting an alien planet.”

“‘Alien’ isn’t the first word I would choose, though I can see how it might seem applicable in some ways. But in others, I think you’d be surprised.” Cas nodded at something toward Jack’s left.

He was gesturing at a plant, Jack saw. It was one of the few here that seemed to grow upwards, making it stand out from the background; poking up from the ground were two main stems. The stems were thicker at the bottom but tapered off to a point at the top, at least a foot above Jack’s head. Both of them had long, slender leaves that protruded in a distinguished line that wound around the stems. The leaves were longer towards the bottom and grew shorter in length near the top, giving the two leafy stems twin conical appearances. Nestled in the gleaming white leaves were sparks of colourful lights, including reds, pinks, greens, blues. All of that combined, the stems almost looked something like--

“Christmas trees?”

Jack brushed their fingers against the leaves but jumped back when the coloured lights adorning the tree moved as the nephilim drew close. They watched, wide-eyed, as the coloured lights unfurled and moved further into the depths of the tree, closer to the stem.

“Not quite,” Cas said, moving to Jack’s side. “But you can imagine how surprised I was when humans began putting lights in their pine trees during winter, hundreds of years ago.” He reached forward, extending his hand between the leafy spines of one of the tree-like plants and holding it there. “It always reminded me of home, though I didn’t get to observe their winter solstice festivals up close until recent years, after I fell.”

Cas pulled his hand back slowly after a mass of light wrapped itself around his fingers. It was some form of animal, one with lots of limbs-- at least nine from what Jack could see-- all attached to one central point, rather like a starfish. Each limb was reminiscent of a feather: hair-like barbs extending from both sides of a luminous quill running down the center of the limb. The gleam of light blazing from the quill on the creature in Cas’ hand was a light pink, like clouds in the sky painted by a setting sun.

“We call them harbingers.” Castiel tilted his hand to keep the creature from slipping. “They’re pollinators, though they spend most of their existences in hibernation.” Cas extended the hand out to Jack in offering.

The nephilim put a hand next to their father’s and waited. After a long moment, the harbinger curled a limb around one of Jack’s fingers. The barbs were surprisingly soft and tickled Jack’s skin as the creature moved out of Cas’ hand and into Jack’s. The feathery limbs brushed against Jack’s fingers, their wrist, and the sleeves of their jacket as it explored its new environment.

“Can I keep it?!” Jack grinned as the creature crawled its way up their arm before settling onto their shoulder.

“Theoretically, yes. But they don’t make for very good pets, Jack. They’re wanderers at heart.”

As though to prove Castiel’s point, the harbinger stretched out its limbs, and with a strong beat of its feathery appendages was drifting back where it had come from.

Jack just laughed as the harbinger settled back into the leaves of the plant before them like lights set on a christmas tree. “I’m glad that you have this.”

Castiel squinted in return, the bioluminescent lights all around reflecting in blue eyes as he gazed at his child.

“You said you wanted to restore Heaven,” Jack continued. “To make it better. And you are; you’re making Heaven a home in ways that I wouldn’t even know how to. It’s incredible. The angels are lucky to have you.”

Cas swallowed hard. He looked away from Jack, gazing unseeingly into the distance for a long moment. “I do want to make Heaven better. And I think… I really think I can.”

“You already are.”

Castiel gave a crooked smile, the faraway look fading from his eyes as he looked back toward Jack and fondly shook his head. “Come on. If you liked the harbingers so much, there’s one more thing I want you to see.”

“Maybe we’ll see a Zelosian?”

The angel raised a brow at his child, recognizing the name of the alien species from Star Wars.

“It was worth a shot,” Jack said.

Stretching their wings, the two celestials took off. The ether caressed their feathers, and the faint glow of plants rushed by as streaks of light like stars in hyperspeed as the two broke into the atmosphere with Castiel leading the way.

They landed in the middle of a crystalline field accompanied by the faint rustle of feathers, and Jack realized instantly that the two weren’t alone. Large forms, some larger even than Jack and Cas, flitted all around, and Jack tensed.

“Don’t be afraid,” Cas said lowly. “These creatures will not harm you. They’re only dangerous to those who do not treat them with respect.”

Jack nodded slowly. They weren’t afraid, exactly, but it was jarring to go from the near absolute stillness of plantlife to being surrounded by unknown, looming shapes. The creatures were long and slim, with a serpentine body with several pairs of extensive wings arching from their backs. They seemed to shimmer in the air, and it took Jack a moment to realize why. Dark purple scales and feathers coated with an iridescent, rainbow sheen covered their bodies. All around was the bioluminescence of glowing feather quills and vanes, and of eyes gleaming with a dark, Grace-like light. The creatures stalked on four legs with their pairs of wings-- ranging from two or three to six pairs, from what Jack could see-- outstretched and flapping for balance and speed.

The most spectacular of all, though, was the singing. The odd whooshing sound Jack had noticed upon first stepping through the doorway into this section of Heaven was louder now, except it sounded even less like a breeze, like it had only been muffled before. It didn’t sound anything like a breeze up close; Jack felt almost silly for having thought such a thing. The song was a euphony of husky rumbles and silvery, high-pitched whirrs. It was sonorous and elegant, so strong and full of life that Jack could feel the melody blissfully resonating within the echoes of their being, and their Grace reached out to bask in it purely on instinct.

Jack had thought the creatures were uninterested in the two of them as they carried on pouring forth their song, but Jack turned their head and saw one of the creatures staring.

“Dad,” Jack whispered, unwilling to risk interrupting the flow of the song. They tugged on their father’s sleeve and pointed at the only divine creature that had taken notice of them.

Castiel followed the point of Jack’s finger, eyes flashing with excitement. “Go on,” Cas whispered back.

Jack took a tentative look back at the smile curving its way across their father’s face before stepping forward.

The creature stepped forward, too, its three pairs of wings arched warily and towering over Jack’s head.

“Hello.” Jack smiled at the unearthly creature.

The animal let out a soft mewl, its head tilting almost curiously. It had the long, and thick snout of a crocodile, and Jack slowly reached a hand toward the creature’s head.

It sniffed at the nephilim’s hand, and the wariness seemed to melt from its demeanor immediately. Its wings lowered into a resting position on its back, and the creature shoved its snout under Jack’s chin like an overeager cat.

Jack giggled in surprise at the scratchy feeling of scales and feathers against their skin, and ran their fingers through the creature’s gleaming feathers. Flexing their wings, Jack wrapped them around the animal in a hug.

After a few long moments, the creature pulled away, and Jack turned back to their father, excitement thrumming through their veins so hotly that the nephilim felt they could barely keep still. The sight of their father made them pause, though. Castiel’s gentle grin had turned watery; his eyes were covered with a misty gleam and the skin around the corner of his eyes and mouth crinkled into wrinkles as he gazed at his child with a look of unadulterated pride.

“This is an angel thing,” Jack realized, feeling ten feet taller just from the look in their father’s eyes. “Isn’t it?”

Castiel laughed softly, head ducking down almost bashfully before meeting Jack’s gaze again. “This-- It’s an unofficial rite of passage for a young fledgling to have their guardian take them to see these creatures, the Kalkydra, for the first time; to acquaint them with the outside world. To… to be there with them, as they take their first steps into the world, so to speak.”

“And you--” Jack felt their eyes start to water. “You wanted to share that with me?”

Cas swallowed hard. “You haven’t had the most... ‘traditional’ childhood, either as a human or as an angel, and I wanted to-- I wanted to-- to be able to give something back--”

Castiel broke off his stunted rant as Jack lunged forward, wrapping their arms and wings around him. The angel hugged their child just as tightly, eyes slipping closed as the euphonious symphony resounded around the pair of them.

#dadstielweek #winter weekend #castiel #jack kline #dadstiel #heaven ecology #(don't think too much about the physics and practicalities of the alien world i described plz <3 )#spn #katswrites #spn fic

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magickastiel · 3 years

Text

Somewhere Off in the Dark (Dean/Cas) 7.3k

It’s easier to be with Cas in the dark.

Dean hasn’t got to see those eyes at full brightness, boring into his soul. Instead he can just talk and not worry about the embarrassment scalding his face or the discomfort twisting his spine.

It’s dangerous being with Cas in the dark.

Gift for @jackttwist for the @starrynightdeancas gift exchange! ✨

mild warning for a scene during early s13 so dean is very self-destructive and doesn't care about his own life. It's along the same times as the show but if you're triggered by that, skip from: 'Dean is sick' and pick up again at: "The Empty?" Dean whispers, feeling cold' for the cute stuff!

a03 or keep reading 💖

Dean will never get used to waking up and seeing eyes peering back at him.

He starts awake, half-reaching for the gun tucked under his pillow before he can pull himself back. He glares and throws the blanket off his lap, immediately regretting it when the cool night air hits his legs.

“Hello, Dean.” Castiel says, voice dry and face impassive. He watches without shame as Dean clambers to his feet, eyes skimming over his legs, his rucked up t-shirt, the scowl on his face.

A chill shoots up Dean’s back and, not for the first time, he wonders how many pairs of eyes Castiel really has. He walks from the couch to Bobby’s kitchen for something to do with his overly observed body.

“I’ll shoot you one day.” He says over his shoulder. “That’ll show you.”

“What will that show me?”

Dean wants to be annoyed but instead he snorts with laughter. Castiel seems to have this affect on him.

“Nothin’. Forget it.” His eyes itch with fatigue and he rubs them with the back of his hand. “You want coffee?”

“I have no need for - ”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Dean turns to lean his back against the counter and almost jumps again when he sees that Castiel has silently followed him to the kitchen. He can count the number of worn tiles between his bare feet and Castiel’s shoes. He has to swallow before he speaks. “Didn’t ask if you needed it. You want some?”

The angel’s eyes travel over him again and Dean feels like an ant under the hot glare of a magnifying glass on a sticky summer’s day.

“Yes.” He says eventually.

“Right.” Coffee.

He potters about, feeling eyes on him wherever he goes. He doesn’t let his hand shake.

By the time they’re sat back on the couch with two half-empty mugs, Dean’s body has loosened as he becomes accustom to the silent scrutiny. There’s no looming threat and no harsh judgement because Castiel is as he always is – curious. Every movement is apparently fascinating to him, every sentence Dean says is worth contemplation and every sip of coffee is a new experience to mull over. Again, Dean is surprised how little it annoys him.

“You remember the first time you woke me up here?” He says after a long pause. “You threatened to throw me back into Hell. Real nice of you.”

In the dark, Dean has to rely on Castiel’s voice to judge his expression. “Yes.” The word sounds solemn, like he’s disappointed that Dean remembers it. “I did say that.”

Dean takes the last glug of coffee to think. There’s an obvious question that’s been lingering between them for the last ten minutes.

“Why did you come here tonight?” He asks and doesn’t know what he wants the answer to be.

Even though he can’t see him properly, he’s sure Castiel is staring straight at him even as he ponders his answer. It’s another reminder of how alien he is. He doesn’t have that need to look away, to hide his face as his mind races to find the right way to say the right thing. Dean envies him that.

“I wanted to apologise.”

“Apologise for what?”

When he speaks again, his tone is unnervingly soft. “Your friends.”

Ellen. Jo.

Dean’s heart clenches and he feels the urge to move, unable to sit still in his grief. His knee knocks against Castiel’s solid thigh but the angel stays perfectly still.

“I should have been with them.” Castiel continues his voice low and smooth. If it wasn’t for the subject matter, Dean might think he was being read to sleep like a troubled child. “I should have protected them.”

“Not your fault.” He mumbles and means it. It never occurred to him to blame Castiel. He’s been too busy blaming himself to consider anyone else’s actions.

“I arrived with them and I should have stayed with them. I let them down. I – I let...”

Castiel is hesitating. This is new behaviour for him and it’s dangerously human.

“I...let you down.”

Dean feels like he’s been doused with cold water. He doesn’t blame Castiel for not wanting to say that. It’s so ridiculously untrue and so goddamn weird to say that he let Dean down specifically. It’s too much focus on him, on them.

“You didn’t let us down, man.”

“You are being kind.” Castiel says in neither admonishment nor gratefulness. He just states it like it’s a sure fact. “Thank you. But I shall endeavour to make it up to you.”

“Oh.” Dean says feeling dumb and strangely warm. “Right. But like I said, nothing to make up for.”

“You are not sleeping.”

He almost gets whiplash at the sudden change in conversation. “Uh well, no, not right now. You did wake me up.”

“Allow me to clarify: you do not sleep enough.” The still air is disturbed by the rustle of his trenchcoat and the sharp clack of the ceramic mug being placed on the table.

“Kind of a lot going on, dude.” Dean says, trying to protest as Castiel pulls his mug from his hands and places that on the table too. “Uhhh, what are you doing?”

“Lie back down.”

Dean does as he’s told but frowns too. He tells himself it’s a good compromise. “You gonna stare at me until I fall asleep or something?”

“I could but I believe that will be unnecessary.” He stands and looms over the couch. He looks intimidating from down here – tall as a skyscraper and dark as a void. Dean clutches at the blanket for something tangible to hold on to. “Your body still hasn’t recovered from the physical and emotional trauma of the last week. And when you sleep you have nightmares thus reliving the pain. You must rest completely to correct this and regain your full strength.”

Dean snorts. “Oh, yeah? So what you gonna do – zap me to sleep?”

“Yes.”

“Wait – ”

Two fingertips brush his forehead and he sleeps.

Dean can’t stop looking.

Even as Benny regales them with some batshit story, even as he eats his handful of berries, even as he wanders the perimeter of their little camp.

Cas is here.

Like, actually here.

He hadn’t let himself lose hope but it had been slipping. Just around the corner, he’d think. One more fight and he’ll be there. On and on.

And then there he was, alive and washing his face like he’d just woken up after a bad night’s sleep at a motel.

Dean’s eyes flit over to him again. He isn’t used to it yet. They only found him a few hours ago. Man’s gotta bask in having his best friend back.

“Dean? You hear me?”

He sighs and turns back to Benny who, to his credit, doesn’t even look annoyed. “Yeah, yeah. Sleeping, shifts, food.”

He snorts. “Got the gist, at least.”

“I’ll take the first shift. Gotta...” He glances over his shoulder at Cas again. He isn’t quite sure what he’s got to do, but he knows it involves Cas.

“Like that, huh?” Benny says, a slight smirk on his face.

“What do you mean?” He mutters, grabbing a stick and poking the meagre fire for something else to focus on.

“Nothin’, nothin’.” He waves a hand, but the smirk hasn’t left his face. “Just startin’ to feel like a third wheel, is all.”

Dean’s face heats unpleasantly. He knows it’s not like that but he can’t quite bring himself to argue about it. Instead he stares into the fire as Benny wanders off to rest. He feels horribly cracked open. He’s gotten used to his hardened shell – Purgatory took all the resilience he had and coated him in it. But the first sight of Cas had split him apart and now his usual racing thoughts have come rushing back with the force of a ten tonne truck. He almost wishes he could go back to how he was yesterday, pure focus and drive.

Now he feels small next to the fire, between a vampire and an angel.

He’s just one slightly shitty human lost in Purgatory.

“Dean?”

Cas joins him suddenly, with that eerie angelic stealth. Dean only just manages to stop himself from jumping like a kid. Cas sits on his left, watching him intently.

Everything is kind of colourless in Purgatory. It drove Dean insane for the first few days; everything seemed slightly off and unreal. Then he got used to it – the lacklustre trees, the blank water, even the fire looked kind of grey.

Cas’ eyes are still very blue.

It’s the first real colour he’s seen in months.

“Dean?” He says again, sounding slightly alarmed. “Are you alright?”

He clears his throat. “Yeah. Just...weird to see you, I guess.”

“Oh.” Cas blinks. “I...I suppose it is strange to see you too. I have seen you from a distance a few times. If several leviathans caught me at once, it would take me a while to kill all of them. Each time, I was very aware of how you were likely closing in on my location. Then I would catch a glimpse of you through the trees and that was when I knew I needed to get ahead again.”

“You what?!” Dean hisses, only keeping his voice down for Benny’s sake. “You mean you’ve been in spitting distance before and you didn’t say anything?! You could have...” He thinks about the sleepless nights, the desperation to find him alive. “I was afraid you were dead.”

“I am sorry, Dean.” Cas squints and tilts his head a little. Dean feels his anger dissipate. “I wanted nothing more than to join you. Together, I am sure we can conquer almost anything.” Right. That’s a total normal thing to say to someone. “But I was the one who released the leviathans. It was my responsibility to deal with them. If they got to you I would never be able to forgive myself.” His gaze drops to the fire. “I will never be able to forgive myself.”

“Don’t.” Frustration pushes at Dean’s skull, making his eyes water. “Yeah, ok. You did something pretty dumb. But you did it because you were trying to save the world. I should have...if I hadn’t been so damn caught up with other stuff. If I had just been there more - ”

“Dean, you cannot blame yourself.” Cas sounds genuinely horrified at the thought. “It was my decision and the consequences are mine to bear. All I can hope is that you can find a way to forgive me. And Sam - ”

“Sam’s good now.” Dean says quickly, half to reassure himself. “You screwed him over, not gonna lie. But at least you fixed it.”

Neither of them speaks for a while. Cas seems intent on watching the fire while Dean’s shell shatters a little more. Had he really had forgiven Cas just like that? He thought of what John Winchester would say about that. To say Cas had ‘screwed Sam over’ was a bit of an understatement. He had totally destroyed his mind. And here Dean was, casually forgiving him like it was no big thing.

It isn’t just words either. Dean really doesn’t feel any animosity towards the angel at all. Look out for Sammy. That had been drummed into him since he was four years old, when he carried his baby brother from their burning home. He still lives by it too. So it’s unnerving to forgive someone who hurt Sam. He’d been angry at first, sure. Upset, if he was being honest. He’d been hit with the double whammy of worrying about Sam and being betrayed by the only real friend he’d ever had. The only one that sticks around.

Well, that isn’t quite true. Cas always leaves but he always comes back too.

Now Dean just feels happy. And tired. He’s pretty tired too.

“You should sleep.” Cas says, softly. “I can watch over you.”

His knee jerk reaction is to tell the angel that’s weird. In any other situation it is weird. But here, he really does need someone looking out for him.

“’Angels are watching over you.’” He says, thinking of soft blonde hair and a warm smile. He swallows around the lump in his throat. “That’s what my mom used to tell me every night when she put me to bed. Guess that’s true tonight, huh?”

“I suspect she did not imagine that to come true in Purgatory while you are travelling with an angel and vampire, but the sentiment is lovely nonetheless.”

Dean can’t stop himself from grinning as he settles down, wedging his jacket under his head like Benny did.

“Do we have to travel with the vampire?” Cas grumbles beside him, sounding wonderfully like himself.

Dean raises his eyebrows against his makeshift pillow. “What, you don’t like Benny?”

“I don’t like the way he acts.” His eyes narrow, glaring at the sleeping figure the other side of the fire. “He looks at you like he wants to...consume you.”

Dean laughs and, for a moment, the clearing rings with it. “Dude trust me: Benny ain’t gonna eat me. He’s got plenty of food around.”

But Cas still looks unsure. “That’s not...” He sighs. “Yes, I suppose you are right.” He gives Dean one of those rare, small smiles as he looks down at him. “Sleep.”

Dean does as he’s told for once, letting his aching limbs stretch out next to the warmth of the fire and under his best friend’s watchful gaze.

But after a few moments, he can’t resist another look, even as his body succumbs.

“You can sleep, Dean.” Cas says, almost chastising. “I’ll watch over you.”

“Ain’t that. Just...” His tongue feels too big for his mouth and his heart feels too heavy for his chest. “Just checkin’ you’re still there, is all.”

As he falls asleep, he hears his voice one more time.

“I’m still here. I’ll always be here.”

When Dean asks Cas where he can drop him, the ex-angel avoids his eyes and says something about being ‘between places’.

Yeah, Dean’s the worst friend in the world.

He drives them to a motel because that’s the least he can do.

He mentally berates himself on the drive there while Cas is quiet in the passenger seat. This really is the least he can do. He should be driving Cas home to the Bunker, buying him dinner on the way back. He should be apologising for throwing him out. But if he starts apologising that means he’s got to start explainingand that’s something he really can’t do. Not yet.

So he drives his awesome best friend to a shitty motel and books them a shitty twin room and orders a shitty pizza.

Once they’ve eaten in relative silence, Cas perches on the edge of one of the beds staring wide-eyed and blank faced at the television. Unfortunately, it’s not Dr. Sexy. Just some grim drama about murders and family betrayals. Like they don’t have enough of that to deal with already.

He looks small and Dean has the sudden urge to rest a hand on his shoulder.

“Dude,” He says, busying his restless hands with clearing up the greasy napkins and tossing them into the bin. “Don’t sit that close to the TV. You’ll get square eyes.”

For what seems like the first time in an hour, Cas blinks. “Is that possible?”

Dean chuckles and settles back on his bed, kicking off his boots with a groan. “Nah, just somethin’ parents tell their kids. Dad used to say it to me all the time.” His smile slips as John Winchester’s dark eyes narrow in his mind. “Used to watch so much Scooby Doo it drove him mad. ‘Turn that TV off and do something useful! Ain’t got no use for a son with square eyes!’” He fidgets on the bed, fighting the urge to pull a blanket over himself.

“Oh.” Cas half turns away from the TV. “That seems unnecessarily harsh.”

Dean shrugs. “Just watched it when he was gone.” Had plenty of time.

“I assume you had plenty of time to watch it then.”

Huh.

Dean’s stunned into silence long enough for Cas to look over. Something on his face makes Cas look guilty.

“I’m sorry. It isn’t my place to comment on your father.”

“No.” Dean says but isn’t sure if he means it.

Cas stands, flicking off the TV and sitting against the pillows of his own bed. The quiet makes Dean realise that he’s alone with Cas in a motel room. He isn’t sure why it sets his teeth on edge – it shouldn’t be any different from sharing with Sam. So why does he feel a bit too hot under his shirt?

“Family is a complicated thing.” Cas continues, oblivious to Dean’s discomfort.

“Y-yeah.” The word sticks in his throat. “You miss ‘em? The other angels?”

In the soft lamplight, Cas’ profile looks striking as he thinks. “Yes and no. I miss the simplicity of being with them.”

“Simplicity? Can’t imagine Heaven ever being simple.”

“Oh, it’s not, not really. But I knew my place and I knew what I required to do. And I was known. Understood.”

“You think I don’t get you?” Dean asks before he can stop himself.

Cas leans back further, turning slightly to rest his head on the pillow. His eyes look almost velvet in the soft light. Dean finds himself turning a little too, cheek brushing the cotton pillowcase.

“I think you understand me more than I could have ever hoped for.”

“Oh.” Dean feels struck dumb and something inside his chest clunks. “That...that’s what friends are for, I guess.”

“Yes.” Cas smiles, gummy and a little crooked where he’s resting his head. “It is.”

Dean rolls onto his back, heart hammering as he stares at the ceiling. Cas’ eyes are still on him – he knows the feel of that gaze like a dangerous coastline knows the relentless glare of a lighthouse.

The silence drags and his fingers itch to switch the TV back on.

“Coulda got you your own room.” He mutters, almost to himself. Least I could do. “Give you some privacy.”

“No.” Cas says firmly. “This is...this is good. Thank you.” He sounds so earnestly grateful Dean almost cringes in shame. “I spend quite a lot of time alone. It’s good to have company.”

“Right, yeah. Of course.”

“But if you’d rather - ”

“Nah, it’s all good.” He says and is surprised that he means it. He’s counted the stains on the ceiling three times and his heart is slowing to its normal pace again.

“Dean?” Cas sounds a little slower now. “Tell me something?”

“Uh, sure. What?”

“Anything.”

“Like a story?” Dean frowns and looks over to see Cas’ eyes are already half-closed.

“Hmm.”

“Uhhh...” He flounders. He hasn’t done this since he was a kid, making up stories for Sammy to fall asleep to in the back of the Impala. “Ok. Once, this guy woke up. Let’s call him...Dan. He woke up and realised he was underground, being suffocated. So after he panicked a bit, he dug his way out and almost goddamn blinded himself ‘cos it was a sunny day, right? He walks to this old gas station and keeps thinking ‘how am I alive?’ ‘cos he’s pretty sure he was dead.”

He knows he isn’t telling it well but it doesn’t seem to matter because Cas hums again, sounding pleased this time. Dean feels his own body melting like hot wax into the bed as he watches Cas’ eyes close.

“Then he looks in the mirror and sees he’s got this mark on his shoulder. A handprint. So he’s like, ‘who the hell left that there?’”

Cas chuckles, mouth thick with sleep. Dean pulls a blanket over himself and wraps an arm around one of the pillows.

“Turns out, his best friend left it there. But here’s the thing: he ain’t met him yet.”

Dean smiles as Cas’ breathing gets even and heavy. He watches for a moment and squeezes the pillow tight against his chest before turning out the light.

He dreams of Hell but when he wakes, all he can remember are dark wings beating hard against fire.

Dean is sick.

He throws up until his body is shaking, until his throat is raw and his eyes are bloodshot.

He slumps down next to the toilet and takes in breaths he doesn’t really want. The cool title presses against his burning back and he closes eyes. Which is a horrific mistake.

A beam of light streaming from his mouth, from his eyes, from the hole in his chest -

His body jerks and his foot knocks the empty whiskey bottle with a jarring clatter. Yeah, that’s rule one, buddy. Don’t close your fucking eyes.

He stands on shaking legs, picks up the empty bottle and goes back to his room where he’s stashed another. Thankfully, he doesn’t pass Sam on the way. He can’t deal with the pity, he can’t deal with the logic and he can’t deal with his stupid, childish hope. Mom’s gone. Ain’t no sense in pretending otherwise. Gone just like –

Nope.

He opens his door and chucks the empty bottle down again, letting it roll off to some dark corner of his room. He scoops up the next one and cracks open the top, taking a deep swig. It hits him hard; neat alcohol on his turbulent stomach makes him gag but he perseveres. He’s exhausted but he can’t close his eyes.

So he’s aiming for blackout.

It can’t be too far away – he can’t remember when he last ate. He’s aching all over, boiling hot and he’s...

Sobbing.

“You...you son of a bitch...” He sways a little when he looks up at the dingy ceiling but he’s trying to talk beyond that. “Whydya hav’ ta...fuck!” He rushes over to the sink and throws up the whiskey he just swallowed. It burns even more on the way up.

Once he’s stopped retching, he tries to take another swig but his body won’t let him do it. He collapses onto the floor again, legs too weak to stand. The bottle clangs in the sink, probably spilling all of its contents down the drain. He makes a weak sound of protest but doesn’t move.

His eyes feel tight and dry against the salty wetness on his face. He wonders how far above him Heaven is. If he’s even there. Something tells him he isn’t. If he is, surely he would have found a way to get back.

Dean whispers his name, a private prayer of desperation. There’s still some dumb part of him that thinks he might just appear again, slightly dishevelled and annoyed at Dean for not looking after himself.

But he doesn’t.

The silence stretches and Dean contemplates hitting his head on the floor. If he does it hard enough, there’s a good chance it’ll knock him out for a while, maybe a few days if he’s lucky.

He tries to lift his head but it’s too heavy. A wave of panic rushes over him as he starts to feel paralyzed – trapped in his own body and smothered with grief.

“Cas?” He chokes, a fresh wave of tears rushing down his face. “You...you’re meant to come back. You always come back. You gotta...you gotta come back, man. Please. Please, I can’t - ”

I can’t do this without you. I don’t want to. Don’t make me.

With all his might, he rolls onto his side before he’s suffocated completely. His head spins as he turns, his stomach churns and his eyes roll back. When he finally passes out, he doesn’t see anything at all.

“The Empty?” Dean whispers, feeling cold.

“Yes.” Cas whispers back. He’s only whispering because Dean is. Dean feels completely normal about that and not giddy at all.

“What was it like?” He doesn’t want to know but has to ask all the same.

“Empty.” Cas says, deadpan.

“Oh ok, smartass – thanks for clearing that up!” Dean huffs good-naturedly and has to grip the railing until his knuckles turn white. He’s got so much happiness in him his body doesn’t know what to do with it. He feels energy thrumming through him and he has the sudden urge to start sprinting and laughing.

They’ve stopped at a motel on the drive back from Colorado to the Bunker. Sam is already asleep, hair all splayed out on his pillow like Sleeping Beauty. But Dean...well, Dean was dead for a couple of minutes today so he figures he’ll enjoy being alive for a bit longer. He leans on the rail overlooking the parking lot and lets the cool air fill his lungs.

He’s got company.

“How is Jack?” Cas asks, obviously expecting a better answer than the quick reassurance they’d given him earlier.

“He’s doing ok. I was...” Dean trails off, his good mood momentarily dipping into guilt. “I was kind of a dick to him at first - ”

“What a surprise.” Cas sighs, world-weary and affectionately irritated. Dean wants to make him sound like that every day.

“- but we’ve gotten better.” He knocks Cas’ shoulder with his. “I’ve gotten better.”

“Good.” Cas smiles at him and he has to grip the railing again.

Dean watches him stare up at the moon, the pearly light making him look as otherworldly as he is. Dean is reminded there are wings somewhere behind Cas. Broken, yes, but still there. It’s weirdly exciting that Cas isn’t human. A strange thrill shoots through him when he really thinks about it. He feels like one of those people who inadvertently tame some dangerous beast and have their photos taken with the thing sat on their couch with them. It’s that precious feeling that you’ve been chosen, that something that would normally kill you with a snap of jaws or a click of its fingers saw you and thought you were special. So it decided that it wanted you to live. That it wanted to spend time with you. That he wanted –

“Dean? You’re staring.” Cas turns back to him with a raised eyebrow and a slightly smug expression. “You usually tell me off for that.”

“Right.” Dean doesn’t stop looking. “It’s just...you’re back.You came back again.”

Cas’s expressions softens and he edges a little closer. Suddenly – wildly – Dean thinks if Cas kissed him now he’d be fine with it.

He doesn’t.

“It was suffocating.” He says instead. “The black emptiness was...all encompassing. Like no matter what I did or where I went, I would never escape the feeling of total despair. Of being painfully alone. It was like - ”

“Choking.” Dean says and swallows hard against his healing throat.

“Yes.” Cas’ fingers twitch on the railing and Dean thinks that if he moved his left pinkie, he could feel his skin. Cas’ hand drops before he can really contemplate doing it. “But I did escape.”

“Yeah.” Dean’s full of energy again, happiness buzzing around his body like a swarm of bumblebees. “You got out, man.”

“I was afraid that feeling would follow me. That I would still feel that fear no matter how far I ran.”

“And?”

“I don’t.” Cas turns to the moon again, bathed in pure light, eyes shining as bright as his grace. “I don’t feel scared at all.”

Dean blinks back the sting in his eyes and smiles. “Me neither.”

Dean pushes open the door with a sweaty palm.

Cas stands next to him, staring into the room with his lips slightly parted. Dean’s gaze lingers on them for moment before he drags his eyes away.

Just because Cas...said what he said, doesn’t mean he wants that. Maybe he didn’t really mean it. Or maybe he did mean it but like...friends. Best friends love each other. Of course they do. Sure, it did seemlike a momentous romantic confession made by a guy madly in love with his best friend before he sacrificed himself to save said best friend but maybe...maybe it wasn’t really like that.

“You did this for me?” Cas sounds almost tearful and Dean can’t look at him like that. It reminds too much of –

“Yeah.” Dean clears his throat. “Well, Sam helped too. Turns out he’s kinda nerdy about plants too. But I bought ‘em all and watered ‘em and...Jack got you that stuffed bee, by the way.”

Cas steps inside the room and Dean can finally look up from his feet. His eyes go straight to Cas’ broad back, casually dressed in one of Sam’s sweaters. The sleeves are too long but Cas says he likes it. He’s wearing a pair of joggers that Dean kept aside for him and a pair of socks with a hole in the toe.

“I love it.”

Dean’s heart literally skips a beat. Great, he loves it. Loves it in the way he loves –

“Wanted you to have something to come back to, you know? I know this was always kinda your room but there was nothing in here and I thought...after what you said before about the Empty...thought you’d want something good to come back to. Bright and full of life...or whatever, I dunno. Just thought you might like it.”

“It’s incredible.”

Dean thinks that’s over stating it. It’s not that good. Not nearly enough to repay his debts. Not anywhere near what Cas deserves. He deserves a real home, a huge garden, a fucking mansion with butlers and people who bow to him and call him ‘sir’. Instead Dean has given him his old room back. Sure, it’s got a few shelves up, a new rug, bedding that Jack picked out called ‘jungle dreams’, a load of plants and a tall lamp that gives everything a nice glow but it’s still the same room.

Dean has never felt more pathetic.

Castiel is an angel. Ok, barely an angel now (and whose fault it that?) but still a celestial being. He might get tired sometimes, he might get hungry and he might be able to get drunk but he’s still an angel.

He’s still better.

Better than this stupid room, better than this miserable Bunker. Better than Dean.

“Is this your blanket?” Cas asks suddenly, plucking the Scooby-Doo fleece blanket from the bed.

Oh, that. “Uh, yeah. Thought you might get cold now. Don’t want you to get numb toes or nothin’.”

“That’s...” Dean isn’t prepared for the open, raw joy on Cas’ face when he looks up. It almost sends him reeling backwards out of the door. “That’s very kind of you. You didn’t have to do all of this. It’s...”

Stupid. Stupid plants, stupid lamp, stupid goddamn blanket.

“It’s wonderful.”

“It’s stupid.” Dean blurts, feeling awkward and childish. “Shoulda done something more. Shoulda got you - ”

“You got me.” Cas says firmly. “You got me out, Dean. You and Sam and Jack...I will never be able to thank you enough. And then to come back to this room that you worked so hard on, that you filled with things you knew I would like...there is nothing better than that in the whole world. The whole of creation. To be known and to be wanted is the best thing there is.”

Fuck.

Dean doesn’t know what to say to that. What can he say to that? What can he say that would ever compare to what Cas said? What he said before –

“Right. Ok. Great. That’s...good. I’ll just...” He gestures over his shoulder to the door. Being in here with Cas is too intense, like staring at the sun or holding your hand over an open flame. “You probably want to rest.”

Cas hesitates before saying, “Yes. I suppose I should. Thank you again for this. I really love it.”

“Yeah, man.” Dean almost winces. “No worries. I’ll just...leave you to it.”

He steps back into the open doorway, unwilling to take his eyes away from Cas because he’s here, in the room Dean has imagined him in for weeks. It’s kind of annoying that Cas doesn’t have the same trouble. He turns his back, wandering towards the plants on the shelves and gently touching the leaves.

Dean lingers, like a moth perched on a lightshade.

“Are you - ” Just leave. “Are you gonna be ok by yourself? I mean, you said before that it was lonely being in the Empty. Thought maybe you’d want company?”

Cas seems surprised when he faces Dean again. “Oh. Well, yes, of course. I would enjoy you staying for a while. But please don’t feel like you have to.”

The idea of Cas thinking he’s keeping Dean against his will is laughable.

“So, er - ” He sits on the bed, fingers clutching at his blanket. “What do you wanna do? I could get my laptop and we could watch a movie? Or we could watch one of those nature documentaries that kinda send me to sleep? You know the ones with the British guy with smooth voice - ”

“Actually, I should rest. I am quite tired.”

“Oh.” Dean tries to not look crushingly disappointed. “Right, yeah.”

“You could rest with me.” Cas says, just like that. Like it’s not a big deal at all. Like guy friends just clamber into bed with each other all the time and die for each other and confess their love for each other...

“Sure.” Dean’s mouth decides for him. “We could – we could do that.”

So they get into bed together.

Cas slides in as though this is his regular night time routine, looking totally at ease in his new ‘jungle dreams’ bedding and borrowed blanket. Dean’s hands shake as he lifts up the covers and slides in too. He waits for it to be weird, waits for discomfort and his father’s face swimming in front of eyes.

Instead, he just feels warm.

They’re led next to each other, unmoving and flat on their backs. Dean’s right leg is about to fall off the bed and Cas’ shoulder looks like it’s digging into the nightstand. Maybe this bed wasn’t made to fit two fully grown men too afraid to touch.

“Dean, are you comfortable? I am not.”

He laughs and rubs a hand over his face. “Yeah, this isn’t great. Maybe if we...uh - ”

“What about if we do this?”

Cas’ hands are suddenly everywhere, manhandling him in a way that Dean has never experienced before but wouldn’t mind experiencing again. He ends up with his head resting on Cas’ chest, forehead pressed against his neck. His right leg has nowhere to go but to hook around Cas’ legs, entwining them together.

And Cas is holding him.

His arms are wrapped around him and not just because they haven’t got anywhere else to go. Because he wants them to go there. Because he wantsto hold Dean. Possibly all night.

Dean starts to panic.

Led like this, his ear is pressed against Cas’ chest – his heartbeat the loudest thing he can hear. What if someone breaks into the Bunker without him knowing? What if something is happening to Sam? To Jack? And he hasn’t even brought a gun with him. He squirms a little, debating on popping back to his room to get one when Cas says,

“Are you thinking about getting a weapon, Dean? I promise you, you won’t need it.”

Cas’ deep voice rumbles through his body, rocking him out of his spiralling worry so quickly Dean briefly wonders if he used some of his remaining slither of grace to do it.

“I would never let anything happen to you.”

“What if someone comes in?”

“An intruder? Judging by our current position, I assume I am the being most visible from the door.”

Dean’s fingers curl in Cas’ borrowed sweater. “You mean you’d be shot first?”

“Yes.” Dean feels his arms tighten around him for a moment. “And I believe my body would shield you from the vast majority of attacks.” He sighs and his breath tickles Dean’s hair. “Of course, if someone were to gain access to the Bunker, it’s likely they would be a supremely powerful being. That would reduce our chance of survival by quite a lot. However, if you really insist on being armed, I am confident that in the few seconds I could shield you, you could at least reach for a makeshift weapon. Whatever good it would do.”

“Right. But...” Dean doesn’t really feel comforted. “I don’t want you to...” He can’t quite say the word.

“Die?” Cas finishes for him as his fingers begin to move, leaving warm trails over Dean’s back. “No, I cannot say that I am enthused by the idea either. I have no desire to leave you again.”

“Not ever?” Dean asks and despises himself for the needy edge in his voice.

“Not ever.” His hands are moving now, big and slow in soothing motions against Dean’s back. He can’t remember the last time he was held like this. Mom, he thinks. When he was a kid. He knows he must look pathetic – six foot plus guy that’s been to hell and back being held like a baby. He should move, should pull away, wipe his eyes and tell Cas it’s time he went back to his own room.

He doesn’t want to.

“You love me.” He says instead, face burning and mouth dry.

He feels Cas smile against the crown of his head. “Yes.”

“You’re like...in love with me.”

One of Cas’ hands moves higher, fingertips trailing over the back of his neck leaving goose bumps in their wake. “Yes.”

Dean will never admit to the half moan, half whine he lets out. He buries his face in Cas’ chest and breathes him in. The smell of him fills Dean’s lungs and Cas’ arms start to feel like a weighted blanket, pressing gently on his body. It makes his eyes soft and his limbs heavy.

As he drifts off, he feels Cas’ lips brushing against his temple.

Dean wakes slowly.

He’s cocooned in softness and warmth and he has no desire to rush anything anymore – least of all to the leave the comfort of his (new) memory foam and his angel. He shifts a little, nuzzling his nose against stubble.

“I thought you were making breakfast.” Cas’ voice rolls over him slow and sweet like honey.

“Hmm.” A murmur, breathed into Cas’ neck, is all Dean can manage.

“Dean, you did promise them.” Cas says, with barely a hint of firmness. His voice is a little husky, like he’s still battling the urge to sleep.

“Oh, yeah? When?” Dean’s lips brush over warm skin.

“Last night.”

He pretends to forget. “Can’t take anything I said last night serious, Cas.”

“Oh?” He sounds a bit more awake now – that familiar dry, teasing tone creeping in.

Dean feels a pang of something in his chest so intense he almost squirms. “Alright, maybe some things were serious.”

“Hmm.” One of Cas’ hands rubs languid strokes up and down his back. “I should hope so.”

The memories come back easy and bright, playing like a dream behind Dean’s heavy eyelids. The stillness of their bedroom is punctuated by the sound of quiet voices in the living room. He grins at that, relishing waking up with the love of his life and his family just in the next room. Happy. Safe.

“Screw ‘em.” Dean says, more to himself than Cas and rubs his foot along his leg a few times, settling down again.

Cas doesn’t seem to have any objections. His hand strokes higher, fingers brushing through Dean’s hair and his blunt nails lightly graze his scalp.

Dean almost whines, his head lifting to follow the touch. He half opens his eyes again and sees a smile, unhurried and adoring. Cas leans down a little and kisses him, stubble rough and lips soft. Dean’s fingers curl against skin and his legs squeeze a muscled thigh beneath the blankets.

They stay that way for a while – bodies warm and entwined, gently greeting each other as the new day dawns. The rising sun has drenched the room in rich yellow light, soft and muffled through the curtains.

Cas’ hand is just caressing his hip and his tongue is getting hotter and more demanding in Dean’s very willing mouth when there’s a knock at the door.

“I know you’re both awake.” Sam’s voice rumbles through the door, amused and still a little sleep rough. “And don’t think we forgot about breakfast either. Eileen wants pancakes and she says I don’t make them right.”

“Not unhealthy enough!” Eileen voice calls out, a little further away.

Dean laughs against Cas’ lips.

“Alright, alright! Gimme five.”

As they slowly detangle, he catches a glimpse of silver as Cas stretches. Dean’s hand feels heavy and warm, like someone’s been holding it for hours. Dean yawns and dangles one leg out of bed, then another. He’s easing himself into the day, taking it a bit at a time.

He can do that now.

He laughs as Cas drags him in for one last kiss before he slides away, shoving his feet into his slippers and tugging on his trusty robe. His ties it around him and wanders, a little stiff-legged, to the window. He pulls back the curtains and from the bed Cas both grumbles and raises his face to meet the sunrise.

Dean watches the sun bathe him in bright light and remembers seeing him like this before. But then it was moonlight and he and Cas were at some shitty motel just out of Colorado. Not in their own house, not in theirbedroom. Dean has his first unbearably intense wave of wild happiness. It won’t be the last one today.

“I like having a window.”

“I liked having eyesight.” Cas mutters, burying himself into the covers.

Dean laughs and thwacks him on the thigh as he passes out the door. Cas’ll be up in his own time.

Four steps and Dean’s in the kitchen.

His brother is perched on one of the chairs at the little island separating the kitchen from the living room. Eileen is signing at him and he’s watching, completely enraptured, with a look of total adoration on his face. Dean would have laughed at him for that once. Now, he knows what it’s like when someone looks at him like that. Now he knows what it’s like to look at someone like that.

But he might still laugh a bit. That’s a big brother’s right.

“Mornin’!” He calls cheerily, rummaging in the fridge for eggs and milk. He emerges triumphant, plopping them onto the counter with a grin. “If the lady wants pancakes, the lady gets pancakes.”

“Best brother in law ever.” Eileen says and Sam almost falls off his seat. She just shrugs cheekily. “Unofficially.”

“For now.” Dean winks and Sam splutters.

“Right, well. Once you’ve finished marrying me off, can we get some breakfast?”

“Alright, alright!” Dean glares but he’s itching to get started. “Goddamn demanding baby. Eileen you could do so much better. Sadly, I’m already taken - ”

She laughs and so does Sam. He wraps an arm around Eileen’s waist and she plays with his hair as they all talk. They talk about Jack getting hyperactive on sugared almonds, about Claire and Kaia wearing matching suits, about Jody and Donna getting drunk and singing karaoke until they were booed off the stage.

Then Cas stumbles out of their soft-lit room; hair wild and face crumpled. He bids them all good morning in a slightly rough tone before shuffling over for coffee. He cradles his mug in both hands as he leans against the corner counter, basking in the sun with his eyes closed.

Dean watches him, aching with joy.

Being in the dark with Cas is easy. But being with him in the light is better.

He twirls the whisk in his hand and it knocks against the ring on his left hand, so new it glows against his skin. Cas kisses his neck as he passes into the living room and Dean grins, looking up at his family.

“Hey, Eileen. What’s the sign for ‘husband’?”

#destiel #deancas #dean winchester #castiel #destiel fic #spn fic #userstarry #dean and cas night time snippets throughout the years #it's mostly cute #ahhhhh my first spn fic i'm so excited #i really loved working on this #mine

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writtenmemxries · 4 years

Text

I fell for you, Dean.

So today, 18th September 2020, it's Dean and Castiel's twelfth anniversary, and who am I not to post something in celebration?

Actually, this ficlet has nothing to do with their first encounter, it's just a love confession because I'm a sucker for that stuff.

I sincerely hope you like it! xx

[2060 words]

Jack is nineteen. Well, actually he's three, but, you know, he's in the body of a nineteen-year-old boy. And like all guys, he wants to experience stuff. New things.

When he walks around the city, accompanying Sam to the grocery store, and he sees kids his age, he always feels weird and odd sensations that he cannot quite define. They hug, sometimes they kiss, hold hands. And he doesn't understand.

Of course he knows about love, and he thinks he has felt it. After all, he loves Castiel, and he loves Sam, and he loves Dean. He loves his family. But that, that is a different kind of love. He sees it. But he can't quite understand it. He would like to, but he doesn't know how.

He may have the body of a grown boy, but deep inside he's still a child, often disoriented and confused, despite having had to endure more burdens and tragedies than anyone his age. But Jack, Jack was never a normal kid, of course. Although sometimes he would like to be. He would like to feel like them, like normal kids.

When he entered the bunker library that afternoon, Dean was sitting at the table, absentmindedly leafing through a book about rugarus. He sat down next to him and watched him for a while without saying a word. Jack looked at him and wondered if he had ever fallen in love. If Dean ever felt that kind of love.

"You okay?" Dean asked, feeling his insistent gaze on him.

"Yes," Jack said, and continued to stare.

After a few minutes, Dean closed the book and turned to the boy. "Why do you keep staring at me?"

"I was thinking."

"About what?"

"Have you ever fallen in love?" Jack asked innocently.

Dean's eyes widened. "Come again?"

"I said, have you ever fallen in love?"

Dean shifted awkwardly in his chair, a confused expression on his face. "Why you asking, kid?"

Jack shrugged.

"You met someone?" Dean asked smirking.

"No," Jack replied simply. "I just wanted to know if hunters were allowed to fall in love."

Dean looked at him in surprise. He certainly didn't expect that. "Kid, what do you mean, allowed? Everyone's allowed to fall in love, no matter what their job is."

"But, hunting-"

Dean cut him off. "I know. Believe me, I know. We lose people, especially the ones we care about. And it hurts. We gotta man up and face the situation. We just deal with it, somehow." He sighed. "But sometimes, you bond with someone. Could be someone you saved, someone you helped, another hunter... we travel all the time, we meet hundreds of people. It's inevitable, you know." He nodded, as if he was satisfied with his own speech.

"I understand," Jack said, despite his brow furrowing.

Dean smiled at him and started to get up, before the conversation turned to something more embarrassing that he was absolutely not ready to talk about with Jack. It wasn't his job to give him The Talk, right?

But then Jack spoke again. "So you have fallen in love."

Dean sighed, moving his gaze to the large bookcases surrounding them. "Yes, sure. I fell in love sometimes."

Jack looked at him in surprise. "You can fall in love more than once?"

Dean laughed. "Sure. Sometimes people fall in love, get together, but for some reason they break up." He swallowed, trying not to think too much about his past relationships. "But there's always some sort of... affection. That always remains."

Jack was silent for a while, deep in thought. Then he spoke again. "Are you in love now?"

Dean licked his lips, his heartbeat strangely increasing. Jack stared at him with his big blue eyes, his genuinely curious gaze. He cleared his throat again. "And who am I supposed to be in love with? Sam and I- we don't get to know many girls like we used to," he said, forcing a laugh. His heart was still pounding in his chest.

Jack thought about it. "What if it's not a girl?"

Dean blushed violently. "What- what do you mean?" he stammered.

"Can't you fall in love with a man?"

"Um-" Dean ran a hand through his hair. "I mean, sure. I mean, um- some- some people, they- they like same-sex people, you know- and it's okay, I mean, it's normal, perfectly natural."

Damn kid, why did he have to keep asking questions?

"But you don't," Jack noted.

"I- I don't, what?"

"You are not attracted to men."

Dean licked his lips again, his discomfort was palpable and he found himself mentally blaming the boy and his naivety, which made him ask all those stupid questions.

The boy just needed to understand how life worked, that's all. Dean could do it, could help him. It was fine.

But at that moment, Castiel entered, greeting Jack placing his hands on his shoulders and squeezing lightly, in a fatherly manner. He smiled at Dean, a warm smile that made his insides melt.

"What were you talking about?" Castiel asked with a loving smile.

"Dean is telling me about love," Jack replied cheerfully.

Dean took a deep breath through his nose.

"Have you ever been in love, Castiel?" Jack asked.

Castiel looked at him first, then moved his gaze to Dean, letting his eyes wander over the features of his face before answering, "Yes."

Dean jerked his head up at him, looking at him with eyes full of amazement and some other emotion he didn't know or didn't want to acknowledge. "Really?"

"Yes, Dean," Castiel replied with a sigh, sitting down opposite to him. "Really."

Dean swallowed. "Good. I mean, good for you. I mean, um, I'm... happy for you. And, um, who- who's the- the lucky woman?" He tried not to look him in the eye. Anywhere, but not in those damn blue eyes.

Castiel looked down at his hands, fidgeting. "It's- it's not a woman."

Dean didn't speak. He stood there, staring at him, his lips slightly parted in shock.

It was Jack who broke the silence, as always. "Don't worry Castiel. Dean said there's nothing wrong with that. It's natural." He smiled.

Dean blushed. God, how he wanted to run away, disappear, be locked up in their dungeons and never get out again.

Castiel didn't reply, continuing to fidget with his fingers, avoiding Dean's gaze. Avoiding his deep, playful green eyes.

"I gotta go," Dean muttered, standing up abruptly. He couldn't bear to be there, at that table, sitting in front of an angel of the Lord who claimed to be in love. Who was he in love with, anyway? Who the heck could he have met? Was it a hunter they'd worked with a few times, or a stupid dude he met somewhere? Whatever. Dean didn't care. He could feel a lump in his throat and his stomach turned upside down with jealou- no. It wasn't that. He didn't care. He simply had to walk away.

Castiel watched Dean leave. He listened to his footsteps echoing in the corridor, then nothing more. He sighed.

Jack watched him. "Are you alright?"

Castiel just nodded, giving him a forced smile.

"Did Dean... did he say something? Is he... in love?" he asked shyly after a while.

"He didn't say it. He kept blushing."

Castiel nodded again, swallowing. It was okay. He wasn't actually hoping for it after all. He got up slowly and gave Jack's shoulder one last squeeze before disappearing.

And so, Jack was left alone, with the terrible feeling that he had just unleashed something big.

At dinner, they all gathered at the table as usual. It felt like a normal, quiet evening, but the tension was so thick it could be cut with a knife.

Sam glanced at Dean and Castiel, who kept avoiding each other's gazes. "Did something happen while I was away?" he asked.

"No," the two said in unison.

Sam raised his eyebrows. "Yeah, sure."

"Nothing happened, Sammy, okay? Everything's just fine. We're all happy and in love," Dean snapped, raising his voice at every word. Then he got up from the table, walking away with heavy steps.

"Dean-" his brother called.

"I'm not hungry anymore."

Sam looked at Jack and Castiel for some explanation, but they both looked as shocked and concerned as he was.

"Maybe I should go talk to him," Castiel said quietly, getting up from the table. "Excuse me."

He knocked on Dean's bedroom door, from where he could hear music coming.

"I said I'm not hungry, Sam."

Castiel opened the door slightly, peeking out. "It's me."

Dean stiffened. "What do you want, Cas?"

"What happened Dean?"

Dean sighed, running a hand over his face.

Castiel entered the room, closing the door behind him. Dean gritted his teeth.

"Dean. Talk to me."

He closed his eyes, clenching his jaw even tighter until it hurt.

"I can't," he said so quietly that Castiel wasn't sure he had actually spoken.

"What?"

"I said I can't," he repeated, raising his voice. He looked at him bitterly. "I can't, okay? I don't know why- I didn't want to snap like that, okay? I didn't want to blame Sam. Damn, he's got nothing to do with it."

"So, what is the problem?" Castiel asked gently.

Dean sighed again. "Me. Just me. I am the problem, Cas. Me, my damn mind and that damn man you're in love with. Who is he, huh? A-a guy you met in a bar? And you fell in love with him? Really, Cas? Then why don't you go to him, go to the love of your life, or whatever it is." He was yelling and he didn't even realize it.

Castiel stared at him in shock, and Dean felt like an idiot. What right did he have to blame Cas for falling in love? Just because he felt something for the angel - because yes, damn, he felt more than just something for him - he didn't have the right to interfere in his life. He clenched his fists and closed his eyes, ashamed of himself.

"Dean-"

"No, Cas. I don't- I don't know why- I'm sorry. Really. I'm sorry. I have no right to- It's none of my business."

"Dean. Look at me."

Dean looked up with difficulty. He had his nails pressed into his palms. He could hear the blood rushing in his ears, the pounding of his heart.

"Dean." Castiel walked over. "I am with the love of my life." His eyes locked with Dean's.

Dean opened his mouth, then closed it again. It was dry and his thoughts ran so fast that chasing them and being able to give them a voice was impossible.

"Don't you understand, can't you see?" Castiel continued. "It's like everyone has always said. I fell for you, Dean. I fell for the Righteous Man in every way imaginable. And I would do it again. Over and over and over."

They were so close that Dean was sure Castiel could hear his heartbeat. It was deafening, it was painful, it was almost inhumane. Every inch of his body quivered, eager to reach out and feel what he thought he couldn't have, touch what he thought he didn't deserve.

But Castiel, oh, Cas... he was so tired of Dean's stubbornness, so tired of his own feelings, so tired of repressing everything, he couldn't stop himself. He reached out and took Dean's face in his hands, touching it with a kindness that Dean hadn't felt on his skin in a long time.

He closed his eyes, letting Castiel's thumbs softly caress his face, with slow but firm movements. He let a sigh escape from his lips as he completely melted at the angel's touch.

"It's you, Dean. I'm in love with you. I can't even tell you since when, I just know it happened."

"Cas-" Dean whispered. A whisper that tasted of unspoken words, words he couldn't say, words he felt inside himself and that devoured every cell, causing him to collapse inside himself. A star that implodes and creates a galaxy.

And as Castiel brought his face close to his, breathing against his lips before closing the distance with a desperate kiss, Dean saw it. A galaxy of pleasure within which he felt reborn.

And just like that, he kissed Cas back, and the galaxy exploded, leaving him breathless.

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lunmelia · 3 years

Text

Some more Team Free Will raising Jack

Taking a break from recording all of Dean and Sam’s injuries, time for some more raising Jack headcanons

----

It takes a village to raise a nephil. Cas, Dean, Sam and Mary manage as best they can, but once Ketch hands Gabriel over and they convince a handful of angels to be on their side, it becomes significantly easier. Mostly everyone, even Gabriel, are still pretty clueless though. No one’s ever really attempted to raise a nephil before. Except maybe the Queen of Sheba, but there’s basically no evidence of how she was raised, and the angels don’t know a thing since she was somehow successfully hidden from them. So, really they just gain additional babysitters who can give only theories on how to raise Jack. But nonetheless, the bunker becomes Raising Jack Central, angels popping in and out, some staying permanently, hunters visiting and pitching in, even some demons wanna check out the child of the devil, though they’re promptly told to fuck off. -- The angels react to Jack in different ways. Some immediately want to kill him, he’s an abomination and that’s just what they do to nephilim. Some approach him cautiously like he’s a ticking time bomb. Some look like they want to vomit at the sight of him. Some look at him with hope, like he’s their new saviour. Some look at him like they’re just confused, trying to figure out how and why he exists. One of the confused angels held Jack, turned him this way and that before they tipped him upside down and gave him a shake. That resulted in an explosion of sound as Jack started crying, and Dean, Cas and Sam jumped in to snatch Jack from the angel. Dean held Jack closely to his chest while giving the angel the stink eye and Cas fussed over the baby. -- Jack was kept in and around the bunker for the first 7 years of his life, raised by angels and hunters who are human but sometimes don’t act like they are. He was mostly kept in the bunker and the house because it takes a lot to convince a nephil to not use their true voice when they have a tantrum. By the time Jack reaches 8-years-old, he finally understands that if he wants to scream and cry with his true voice, he has to do it in the safety of the bunker. -- Being raised in a secluded bunker and a house by angels and hunters is just another cause to how weird Jack is. He either blinks too much or not enough, and he sometimes looks at you like he’s inspecting your soul (which he is). And he just sounds. off. Most of the time he sounds american, but no one can pinpoint where in america. He almost sounds like he’s from everywhere in america. But sometimes he sounds like he’s from england. His teachers can’t tell if he’s pretending or if he really does just sound like that. They become even more confused when they meet Dean and Cas, and Sam, and Mary because they can clearly tell where his guardians are from, so why does he always sound so off?? -- Sometimes he calls Dean and Cas dad or father, but actually he just calls them Dean and Cas a lot of the time. He understands that they’re his dads, but no one else ever calls them dad?? Everyone else refers to them as Dean and Cas, those are their names, so he just. calls them by their names. simple as that. On the same note, he actually refers to Mary as ‘mom’ a lot because Dean and Sam, and sometimes even Cas, call her that all the time. It actually took him a longer time to understand that her name wasn’t mom but Mary, than it did to understand that his dads’ names were Dean and Cas. Other kids ask him why he doesn’t call his dads ‘dad’ and he just shrugs and goes ‘those are their names’. -- Jack with his insane dad Cas and his equally insane uncle Sam. Jack, as the first nephil who is being actively raised by hunters and angels alike, is a complete mystery. And Cas and Sam love a mystery. They never do anything that will physically or mentally harm Jack, but they do perform tiny little experiments. Dean comes home one day and finds Cas and Sam lying flat on their stomachs on the floor, a two-year-old Jack between them and they’re all staring at a pencil. Dean: ... what are you doing? Sam: trying to see if he’ll move this pencil with his mind Dean: *flashback to that one time he walked in on Cas jumping off a roof to see if Sam could catch him with his telekinetic powers* Dean: oohhhh no. no no no no you don’t! you’re not experimenting on my baby! -- Sam: ... I wonder what would happen if I drank nephil blood? Cas: ... we’ll wait until Jack’s older for that one -- Dean: yeah he hit the ball and it just went... it disappeared into the sky. He broke the bat Sam: you WHAT!? Cas: how far do you think the ball went? Jack: personally I think it went into space Sam, getting up from where he was sitting: we gotta test this right now -- 16-year-old Jack: ... could I escape holy fire? Cas and Sam: *eyes slowly widening* Dean: don’t you dare- Sam: I’ll get the holy oil! Cas: I’ll get the lighter, Jack go stand outside Jack: okay! -- Did you ever have those friends in primary school who were smaller than you but they were so strong they lifted you up and spun you around? Because I did. Anyways Jack lifts Dean up when he’s like 11 because uncle Sam told him to and Dean just screams. -- Eileen being able to be around baby Jack when he’s throwing a tantrum because she literally can’t hear him. She holds him and smiles and Jack goes quiet and frowns because even though he’s a baby he knows the difference between a human and an angel, and the humans are always either wincing when he cries or wearing things in their ears, but this human is just holding him and smiling? Huh?? So he just becomes quiet around Eileen because he’s so confused as to why she’s not reacting and he starts to become excited whenever he sees her and she’s definitely his favourite aunt. -- Sam and Eileen’s kids are just as weird as Jack. Maybe a little less so, but look they were also raised around angels and hunters, have an angel as an uncle and a nephil as a cousin. They’re a bit weird. -- If Sam and Eileen do have multiple kids, Jack definitely holds all of them at once and parades them around like “look! look at my cousins! I have cousins! these are my cousins!!” with a beaming smile. He’s so happy to have cousins because he’s always been the youngest! He’s never been around kids that are younger than him! He’s so curious and when he held his first-born cousin for the first time when he was 5 he just stared in awe because it was the first time he’s seen a baby! Babies are tiny! And their souls are so bright! He couldn’t stop staring and asking questions like “how did they come out?” “what do they do now?” “can they see? they haven’t opened their eyes” “do they know who I am? Do they know who you are? Should I introduce myself!? Have you guys introduced yourselves? What if they don’t know you’re their parents you should probably introduce yourself”

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sir-elyan · 4 years

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suptober20 day 16 prompt: switch it up! (ficlet) | destiel | ~ 2k words

summary: 15x15 coda (sort of) wherein Dean accidentally flips a switch that puts him in Cas’ body, and vice versa.

Dean ran his hand along the wall, feeling the rough plaster under his skin until he reached a bump, something raised beneath the surface of the wallpaper.

“Did Rowena have a thing for uh…trick doors, or anything like that?”

Sam huffed a laugh from the other side of the storage room.

“Can’t say it sounds out of character. How come? You find something?”

By then Dean had peeled most of the wallpaper off of the raised surface without much difficulty. He was twisted awkwardly, back bent to reach into the space between the shelves where it was hidden.

He managed to finally rip the last bit off, and brushed away the remaining debris from what ended up being a metal box attached to the wall. Dean flipped it open, curiosity high for a moment before vanishing just as quickly.

“No, never mind. It’s just a light switch for something.” Dean flipped it, once, and looked around for any changes. Nothing. He flipped it back off, and then on again.

“Anything?” Dean asked.

Sam shrugged. “No? Pretty sure that’s just an old switch she covered up because it didn’t work. Rowena probably could have kept all of the electricity in this entire building running with just a flick of her wrist.”

Sam had a point. They were here for that exact reason, actually—to check one last time if any of her tomes said anything about how to defeat god. Because now…now they had to find another way. After coming up empty at the bunker, Sam had suggested one last look around the apartment.

Unfortunately for them, no luck so far.

Bzzt.

Sam took his phone out of his pocket and frowned down at it, fingers gliding over the screen to type.

“It’s Eileen. She thinks she might have something. I’m gonna…go…”

Dean waved him off, “Sure, go do your thing. I’ll keep looking here.”

He watched as Sam left and returned once again to the dusty shelves.

It was insane to think that not a single one of these had the answer. Dean rubbed at his mouth, wondering if it was even worth it to keep going, when he heard familiar footsteps stop a few feet behind him.

He didn’t need to look to know that it was Cas.

“Any luck?” Dean asked. They seemed to be banking a lot on “luck” these days.

Cas took another step, so Dean turned his shoulder to sort of face him. He was glad he hadn’t turned completely, because at the sight of Cas’ expression, Dean’s forcing his eyes away would have been made all the more obvious.

So, no luck there either.

“Dean, I know you’re angry,” Cas started. Dean shook his head, mindlessly moving books around the shelves to keep him occupied.

“I’m not,” he said. But he was. He was…he was…

“You are.”

“Why would I be?” Dean asked the shelf, loud enough for Cas to hear. “You were just going to leave. Again. Without telling us.”

Silence. Dean glanced at him now, gripping something small in his hand (a hex bag or a crystal or something, he wasn’t paying attention) to ground him.

“Why?”

Cas looked down. “Jack…asked me not to tell you. He thought—”

Dean turned to him fully now, brows furrowed. “No. I’m not talking about Jack.”

Cas’ eyes widened just a fraction, but Dean didn’t spare a moment to decipher it. He was too…

“Why do you put me through this? Why can’t you just…imagine what it’s like for me to keep seeing you walk away? Sacrificing yourself? Getting killed? Why is it so hard to put yourself in my shoes? To—to switch places, for once?”

Cas opened his mouth and closed it again.

Dean took a deep breath, letting the anger simmer down from boiling to lukewarm. His eyes caught on the switch again, and suddenly he couldn’t remember which way it was facing when he’d first seen it. Up, or down? He flipped it again once, just to be sure, just to fill the silence, when the entire building went black.

It was a few seconds, or maybe a couple of minutes, before the lights came back on.

Dean wasn’t by the shelves anymore, which was weird. He didn’t remember moving, but it wasn’t entirely out of the question that he had. The darkness had been pitch, fumbling around was probably what had happened.

Sam came rushing in not long after, looking perplexed and a little winded.

“Dean? Cas? What the hell was that?”

“The power went off when—when—” He heard his own voice say. But he was pretty sure he hadn’t said anything.

Dean balked and looked over. Where he had once been standing was….well, him. But obviously not him because he was right here, which was—

“Oh, shit.”

His voice was Cas’ voice. Deep, grumbly. His body….

Dean looked down to see himself clad in a trench coat and slacks and everything that screamed Cas. His heart clenched. He could smell Cas’ cologne on him, everywhere.

He thought for a moment that he might pass out, but then Sam was looking at him strangely, like he hadn’t heard him right, and Cas—the Cas he assumed was currently inhabiting his body—stood frozen a few feet away.

So Dean straightened in his new body, Cas’ body, it was Cas’ body, and leveled Sam with his best Cas impression.

“He flipped a light switch. Everything’s fine.” Dean turned to Cas. “A word?”

Cas nodded jerkily and followed him past Sam and into a corner of Rowena’s apartment far enough for Sam not to hear.

“Dean, what are you doing? We have to tell Sam that we—that we—”

“That we got friggin Freaky Friday’d, I know. But we can’t. Not…not yet.”

Dean found Cas’ exasperated head tilt to look weird on his own face.

“Why is that?”

“Because this is exactly what I was talking about! Look, I have no idea how this happened, I mean I knew that switch had some mojo crap in it—”

“And you still flipped it anyway?”

“The point is, my wish came true, Cas. I’m just asking for a day. One day, and then we can try to figure this out and go back to being ourselves.”

Cas sighed. Dean watched the way his features were softer, now that Cas used them.

“Fine. One day.”

—

And it was fine. At first.

They’d packed up and started home within thirty minutes after the incident, which was what they were calling it, and managed to keep their mouths shut long enough for Sam to believe they were still themselves.

How Cas managed it, Dean had no idea. From his point of view, everything down to the way Cas breathed in his body just screamed “Cas”, and he would’ve hounded his brother for being oblivious if he hadn’t been jabbering about whatever Eileen had said on their call for the entire duration of their drive.

All Cas really had to do was focus on driving and muttering a response here and there. Dean willed from the backseat with whatever angel mojo he’d recently inherited that Cas didn’t crash Baby, or else he might just break character and end this whole thing they had going here.

It must have worked, because they got to the bunker safe and sound about an hour later. Cas tried following him around a few times, but Dean gave him looks that said don’t, run along, and surprisingly enough, Cas did. He had a feeling that Cas was probably just as curious as he was about this.

That being said, almost the first thing Dean did was run into Jack.

It wasn’t exactly difficult, seeing as the kid was prone to running into things. He had turned a corner, intending to go to Cas’ room, when Jack showed up with a gleeful smile.

“You’re back!”

Dean blinked at him. He knew Jack was child-like, but sometimes he acted so mature that Dean was sure he was at least a teenager. He wondered now how much of that was a front, and what Cas had done to make Jack look at him like he was the sun. Especially after what Jack had told him yesterday.

“I…am, yes. How are you?”

Jack’s eyes were still filled with adoration. “I’m good. I was watching Scooby-Doo reruns while you guys were gone. Can you tell me about the time you guys met Shaggy and Scooby, again?”

Dean’s heart turned soft, despite his… frustration with Jack for being so selfless and self-sacrificing. Like his dad. Well, like all of his dads.

“Maybe later, k—Jack. Bedtime story,” He promised. Dean tried for a smile, and Jack grinned.

“Okay. I love your bedtime stories,” Jack said. His smile suddenly faded. “By the way, are Sam and Dean…around?”

Dean took just a brief moment to process that Cas actually read the kid bedtime stories before nodding.

“Yes. They are. In the kitchen, I think.”

Did Cas talk like this, or was Dean worse than he thought at Cas impressions? It was at least enough to fool Jack, for now.

“You didn’t…tell them, right? About…”

Dean felt his insides twist. So this was what Cas had to do. Lie. Cas was doing a lot of that recently.

“No.”

“Good, because I was thinking, it’d be unfair of me to keep your secret if you didn’t keep mine. But, your secret is still safe with me, Cas.”

Jack patted his shoulder and left before Dean’s mind could catch up to what he was saying.

Secret? Another secret?

He tried to reign his rage back down to a place of balance. In this body, who knew what he could do if he let it all out. Blow up the bunker, probably.

The rest of the day was almost pointless after that. The one thing he did try, between his conversation with Jack and his sulking about Cas, was to get a glimpse of Cas’ wings in the mirror. But he couldn’t figure out how to see into whatever dimension Cas kept them, so Dean gave that up pretty quickly.

After dinner, he visited Cas where he was watching TV in Dean’s room and closed the door behind him.

Cas let out a breath of relief and sat up in Dean’s bed.

“Finally. I’ve had enough of this today. I’d forgotten what being human was like. It’s very…time consuming.”

Dean nodded once. He approached the bed until he was at the foot of it, knees touching the mattress.

“I know,” was his response.

Cas did the head tilt again. “Yes, I’d assume so. You are human every day of your life.”

“No, Cas. I mean, I know. About your secret.”

Cas stared at him. “How?”

“Jack…Jack told me. Well, actually, he told you. But either way, I know now. You’ve been keeping more secrets from us. Did you think we wouldn’t find out?”

Cas stood up then, but didn’t try to close the distance.

“Of course I knew you’d find out. But I thought….I thought we’d have more time. I’m not anywhere near happy enough yet, Dean. And with Jack…”

Dean turned the words over in his head. Happy? What the hell was he talking about?

“Cas…what are you going to do?”

He shut his mouth—Dean’s mouth—and Dean suddenly wished he had power over it again.

“Were you planning on leaving us again? Or worse, sacrificing yourself? After—after everything, after trading places, do you still think I’m not enough for you to want to stay?”

Dean’s heart pounded. He didn’t want to hear the answer, didn’t want to know what Cas had done. What Cas couldn’t tell him.

It seemed like his body mirrored his emotions, because Dean saw himself begin to cry.

“It was to save Jack. It… Dean, I couldn’t tell you. I couldn’t let you have yet another burden to bare because of me. And—and I did what you would have done.”

“What I would have done.”

“Yes,” Cas said. “At some point…Dean, at some point we switched. I’m not the man I was when you first met me. I am who I am thanks to you. So don’t blame me for taking a page out of your book.”

Switched, huh? Dean took a step forward, feeling bigger now, even though Cas’ body was shorter than his in height.

His emotions were barely being held together as it was by a thin piece of twine that he knew existed there because of Cas. Now it was like the twine was being pulled, and his voice was tight with the last strain of it, a final effort before he snapped.

“So switch back.”

#can't tell if I love or hate this lmao #I haven't edited it yet so oop sorry for mistakes #destiel #spn #spn 15 #spn spoilers #spn 15x15 #spn coda #15x15 coda #supernatural #deancas #rambleoncas writing #suptober20 #roc original #my post

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elizabethrobertajones · 3 years

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Saw you've been sucked into the MMO life in the form of FFXIV and I was wondering if you had any input into the debate I've been having about what class archetypes tfw would play. I think Sam would be most likely to tank because it requires a reasonable amount of leadership and is also more of a quiet, backbone type role compared to dps. Dean seems more the type to be singularly focused on the big damage hits tbh. He also tends to take more of the charging in and fighting role in their normal life with Sam being the one reading up on everything more carefully and being his backup. Which leaves Cas as healer which may just be me projecting because I play healer/support at every opportunity but literal angel healing aside I think that sorta fits too, he cares a lot for them and tries to keep them safe and shield them as best he can in their adventures? Idk half formed thoughts please completely contradict me if you want I'm genuinely curious about other people's opinions here

Heyooo :D It is less sucked into and more like I’ve returned to the warm cushiony nest of MMOs lol

If you’d asked me back when I was a WoW player I’d have fully agreed because you could only have one class per character and these are definitely the snap decisions that the fam would make when on the character screen. Dean would grab the sexiest DPS, Sam the stoutest tank especially as he’s the one who has read into the classes and strats beforehand, and Cas would ask what to do and be given the healer role because the other two in this scenario would know better about the game and sort of lump it onto him like, oh, we need a healer and you can do this.

(In my own gaming journey, this is what my friends and brother did to me, as they needed a healer to round out their party... I took druid because it was spoopy, and discovered in WoW that while you can’t change classes you can pay gold to respec your character’s role within that class... Promptly re-specced to a melee dps/tank feral druid instead of the healer one, and had a lot more fun :D)

In FFXIV you can take all the classes on your character (which I have done, natch) and it’s a much more interesting levelling approach, especially seeing how my friends playing the game have gone when it comes to taking classes as they level and why they claim to have tried and then rejected others. It’s an enormous personality test, even for peeps like me and my brother who have all the classes up at max level, which ones we prioritised and which ones we sort of struggled with or found a bit meh.

Hm so in the scenario that Charlie comes bursting into the Bunker demanding that she needs some friends for dungeons and raids and they’re all sitting on their asses scrolling the internet between a case, they can bloody well play final fantasy with her for a bit, let’s go for some headcanons :D Long because FFXIV has become my current obsession and I have the same in-depth feels about it as I do about SPN but I just never get to write about them with anyone...

First off, Sam of course has deep nerdery about it and will ask Charlie a ton of questions about what the right class to play is and do the same thing as we’ve already discussed and go for Paladin (which starts as gladiator), and also take all the crafting and gathering side classes because he’s a nerd and you learn nonsense lore while doing it. He’s also in the same starting zone as Thaumaturge which transitions to Black Mage and I BET he’d be tempted to have a little safe witch!Sam emotional release on the most un-Sam class. It’s the big unwieldy spell caster whose literal class quests and stuff make fun of how you’re small and squishy and will be standing in a very bad spot debating whether to finish a long-cast spell and get hit or stop DPS and run for safety. I think he could do with the perspective and learning to be selfish either way to blow off steam from tanking and also learn to prioritise himself IRL :’D Also the paladin quest is WEIRDLY pro-cop from 30 onwards for some reason until the writers saw sense and just. stopped. doing paladin stuff and went back to the Gladiator storyline for the class quests, so idk if he’d enjoy that or start to question other things. Whatever it is he’s getting challenged XD

At 60 he grabs Gunbreaker because it sounds more cool and is thankfully way less emotionally stressful tanking as it’s entirely about being a badass bodyguard and sick flips. This is far more aspirational for Sam, especially as he could just tie a knife to a sawn off shotgun and do these moves for real in his day job. He won’t, but like with black mage, the thought that he COULD is very emotionally satisfying to him.

He might also have decided to check out scholar to see how healing is but idk if he would be able to handle Dean teasing him for having a fairy follow him around so he’d only dabble with the nerd class on the side :P

Now, Dean can’t take ninja until level 10 or machinist (gun shooty DPS class) until 50, so his start point as DPS would either be pugilist (eeeey brass knuckle class!) or the other DPS classes to start with are Thaumaturge/Black Mage, Arcanist/Summoner, Archer or Lancer. Now. He’d probably think the first two are sissy because magic is for girls/arcanists literally only have a book as a weapon. Archer becomes bard and I think is ultimately a place he’d be very happy as it is a very supportive class to the whole party and basically the mom friend class. But I would love if he went lancer/dragoon because the level 50 class weapon is (folklore inspired name) “Gae Bolg” and every time I equip it I can’t help giggling at the name even though I know it’s a real thing and I shouldn’t. But. Like. It’s the class about waving enormous lances around. It’s got Implications, and Dean is drawn to those.

He’d probably, however, take rogue/ninja as soon as he could because stabbing things with knives, and the class trainer is the kinda guy who’d have wild gay tension with him while they both try to boast about women to each other, were they to meet irl. Ironically, the rogue trainer (a womanising charmer) and the ninja trainer (an intense, honourable guy bad at social cues even among his own people who ends up falling from grace and choosing to stay in the vicinity of said rogue trainer) are an interesting pair of NPCs to teach Dean about where to stick knives. :)

He’d go back and power-level dragoon once he starts Heavensward though, because Aymeric is also super intense with messy dark hair and big blue eyes that see right through you. :D He’s getting that gae bolg for him, you know?

If they’re going to bully Cas to be their healer, he’d probably get really dedicated to the discipline especially as he can stay up all night to play and doesn’t need to take breaks to pee so he’d probably level conjurer/white mage (nature healing) and scholar (ancient book lore with a class quest which mixes ancient curses on a whole people, family drama and a bit of interspeciesish love) and then also pick up astrologian, which is good because it’s spooky star and making your own fate magic. The storyline for that is garbage in the sense that it’s really weakly written, but my favourite character randomly picks up AST in the latest expansion, and has an absolutely fucking wild subtextual romance with another character, including SPN level adopting of a random child who matches Jack in many respects, with said character. And in many respects emotionally they’re Cas and Dean but without any of the personal baggage between them specifically so they really are just chill and married, whatever else they’re stressed about (I say, dreading the next patch is going to finally bring up some questions about what is going on with them as it’s getting weirdly conspicuous while still utterly unsaid). So I would hope if Cas started projecting onto an astrologian character it would be him :P

Cas also would get into summoner as the other branch of scholar because honestly those two classes are about as close to the random sigil drawing and reading things from books etc analogy to his own occult magic, except you can summon cool dragons and elementals to fight for you.

they’d buy Jack a boost to 60 and he’d pick up dark knight and white mage probably just to subtly fuck with Dean

(I am still not over Dean trying to test him to see if he was evil or not by whether he chose devil or angel cake)

#Asks #ffxiv #pfft #I'm sorry #I'm like #in the rabbit hole #I'm so in deep in the rabbit hole I've memorised all the lore #I did every quest #I am as forensic about it as I am about SPN but it's all just in my head!!#AAAH why is the fandom for this game small and uninterested in talking about subtext!#[edit to add: if you know where the fandom I'm seeking is and it's on reddit #I'm not going there and you can't pay me to for all the thancred headcanons in eorzea]

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whenwordsmakesense · 3 years

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Chapter 2: Memories

“But I-” Derek started, but Stiles interrupted him. He damn well knew what everyone thought, and that's because they never told anyone the truth.

“Yes. I love my dad, but he's not my bio dad, okay? And nobody but me and him know this, so please. Please just take me home, let me wallow in peace,”

Derek continued looking at him, gobsmacked, but he did start the car and led them out of the cemetery.

Stiles hated the silence, but right now it felt good.

Derek left him in front of his house, his dad's cruiser in the driveway. “Text me, okay?” Stiles nodded. He knew what Derek meant: “I am here for you. Text me when you are ready.”

“Thanks,” he said, as Derek pulled out of the driveway. He knew Derek heard him.

Stiles entered the house and immediately ran to his room, aware of his dad watching TV in the living room. He didn't ask him what's wrong, just let him be in his room, and only came to give him food when it was time for dinner.

Stiles wondered if all main men in his life were going to be emotionally constipated. Although dad wasn't that much of a macho man, he is the more gestures kind of guy than words.

He's not like that, himself, but that might be because of his mom. She never let an opportunity to profess love or whatever she was feeling pass by.

He then wondered if his ‘real’ parents are like that. He then tried to think if he even knew something about them.

Nothing. He knew nothing about them.

His mother used to tell him it was like an angel came to give him to them; they'd wanted a child so badly but she couldn't have kids, and then one day, nestled in their couch in their apartment was a basket, in which Stiles was there, sleeping. There was a note which read, “Claudia Gajos, take care of him. Be safe in Beacon Hills.”

His dad had told him he didn't understand why they had to move here just because the note said so, but when the ‘werewolves are real!’ cat came out of the bag, he started to have a theory. Dad told him how he felt as if there was magic in his life ever since Claudia entered it, but he thought it was his love speaking. His dad has been doing research on it, actually, the whole Gajos family and why there are no relatives from that side of the family.

He wandered downstairs at that thought. He doesn't know anything about his birth parents; that's fine by him. They couldn't raise him, he gets that, especially if they were Supernatural and this Spark thing is genetic. But that doesn't mean he isn't angry at them, because he is. Very much so. And he'd rather know about the people who raised him.

“Dad?”

“Are you ready to talk about whatever is bothering you?” Straight to the point. Dad might not exactly be the type to have heart-to-hearts, but he is the type that worries over those he cares about and is willing to go to any lengths to protect them. Stiles thinks he gets his own similar tendencies from him.

“Not right now,” he says as he settles beside his dad on the couch. The older man turns towards him, face a clear picture of curious cat. “I was wondering if you had any luck on, you know, on mom's side of the family?”

Dad sighed and stood up. He walked towards his office and came back with a vanilla colored folder, similar to case files that are kept in the station. “I did,” he admitted. When Stiles started to protest why he didn't tell him, his dad held up his hand. “It's nothing good, kiddo, and I didn't want to add more stress to your life. I know this is as important to you as it's to me, but let me just believe for a second that I am the one protecting you, okay? That I haven't failed as a parent.”

“You haven't! You're the best dad I could have asked for, don't think shit like that,” he knew his dad felt like this sometimes, but he'd hoped the feeling would go away. His dad had done the best he could, and when he came into the know, he didn't take Stiles away from it. He let his young son do what he wants, and that, being able to choose your son's happiness -- however bleak that might be -- over his own selfishness of keeping him safe, makes his dad an awesome parent. An awesome human, in fact, to be risking the life of his child for the protection of others.

“Language,” his dad chided, but he had a small smile on his face. Stiles smiled back and bumped their shoulders together when he sat back down. He made grabby hands for the folder. “Are you sure you want to know?”

He refrained from sighing. He simply nodded.

Derek had left Stiles at his home and gone back to the cemetery, feeling like something was calling him there. He didn't know what, but it was instinct, and up until now his instincts had never led him wrong. It was only when he didn't follow them that... Things happened.

He knew he should not feel hurt by the fact that Stiles had kept such a big secret from him, but then, they weren't friends, were they? Sure, Derek considered him Pack, but in the end Stiles will always choose Scott, and Scott was decidedly not in his Pack. Not because Derek didn't want him to be, but because the teen wolf -- well, the first of the teen wolves -- hated his guts. But then Stiles had said nobody but he and his dad knew that Stiles wasn't a Stilinski by blood, and now Derek did too.

He felt a petty sort of happiness at that. Suck it, McCall.

By the time he reached his family's graves -- The Hales have lived here for generations, and were in fact the founders of this town. Having their own plot in the graveyard is just another extension of that -- he wasn't sure why he was there. He'd wanted to come here, his wolf growling when he strayed off the path, but now that he was here... Why was he here?

He sat in front of his parents' grave. He folded his legs and put his chin on his knees, as if he was sitting down to listen to the numerous stories his dad used to tell him and the other kids of the Pack on various nights. His dad, Nathaniel Hale, was an avid fan of the Supernatural, and this tendency had only increased when he discovered that it was real. He now had actual, practical information, afterall.

Derek closed his eyes and lost himself in the memory.

Derek sat between his sisters, Cora on his left and Laura on his right, snuggled in the blanket fort on the floor as his cousins all settled around them. Today dad was going to tell them a story about a creature that has only been spotted once in history. How cool?! He'd love to meet such a rare creature. Will they be friends with him or not, he wondered, as his dad's voice started to tell them the story.

“The one and only time he was spotted was in Portugal, around the early 19th Century. Many those who saw him claim that he appeared out of a crack in the wall, eyes glowing gold, shadow of wings falling on the wall behind him.”

“A 'wolf with wings? Cool!” exclaimed Jaimie, the youngest of them all. He's only four, and a total pain in the butt. Dad laughed and shook his head.

“Not everyone with yellow eyes are 'wolf, Jaimie. And the wings part might not even be true,” there were pouts on all of the kid's faces, and dad just laughed harder. “Hey, it's not like all what we read is true. Some of them are just stories is all. But tell you what: we don't care about that. We care about what happened to this Spark, don't we? And oh, did you know why he's called a Spark? It's because the crack -- remember how I said people say came out of a crack in the wall? -- well, it looked like lightening, and he was stumbling for some reason.”

“Did he drink big people juice?” asked Cora, eyes wide. Dad winked at her.

“He might have,” he said. “He was reported to be saying he's in the wrong time, that a certain ‘Cas’ would kill him if he left the child in whatever time that was. When people asked what he was saying, who did he wish to leave the child with then, he just said ‘Claudia Gajos, as this note says,’ and then he just... Vanished. Like he was never even there. Thankfully, the people he'd appeared in front of knew of the Supernatural and were Supernatural. It's even more interesting because the man who had asked the question was a Gajos himself.”

Derek opened his eyes. Whatever that was that he remembered right now, that had to be true. With everything he's faced in his life -- a rogue Peter, Kanima, the Alpha Pack, a 1000 year old Fox Demon -- adding a time-travelling Spark carrying a baby Stiles to find one particular Claudia Gajos to the list should not be all that hard.

What even was his life.

#Chapter 2 #My fic #Sterek #Teen Wolf×Supernatural crossover #Superwolf #whenwordsmakesense #edit 17 sep 2021: i won't be continuing this! (tbh i totally forgot this existed thanks for the likes tho)

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impala1967dwinchester · 4 years

Text

Castiel: Walking Lust

*Best GIF of Cass I have ever seen*

Paring: Human!Castiel X Angel!Reader

Pov: Reader’s

Rating: Adult Mature

Warnings: Adorable Cas, Reader falling in love

Summary: The Reader and Castiel have been friends since the start of time. Since both of them were angels they spent a lot of time together, but angels don't have feelings for each other? Do they? After Castiel is turned into a human, the reader gets to for the first time see Castiel’s face seeing not his soul but features instead.

Word Count: 1,209

We’d have been friends for since... well since forever ago. Earth, when it was being made Cass and I were a little child. He was already daddy’s little boy, and to be honest I was daddy's little girl. We were the best of his children, that was until he sent Cass and me down to Earth. Cass and I acted as if we were siblings but we were far from, having been “Made up” in Fathers whatever image. For the billions of years that the two of us wanted, asked, and pleaded with Father for a case. He finally gave us one.

And when I say one I mean like a case, I mean like the hardest case that there was to give at the time. Which just so happened to be The Winchester’s, but more specifically the Winchester boys. Dean and Sam Winchester the brothers that somehow made the end of the world come and so much more other stuff I’m not really supposed to tell you.

After four hellish years, Cass turned laventihean, Cass thinking he was god, Michael/Adam killing him, Cass being incredibly dull. An issue happened, a very big issue happened. Something I didn’t know could possibly happen. Cass was drained of his angel grace and turned human, I could have saved him, but he said “No, you stay angel, we need comms inside.” I just had to go with what he said has the grace that was inside him, his wings fading, his true body coming into my view.

If you ever thought Cass’s soul was bright those sky blue eyes, and white teethed smile was so much brighter. The brown short spiked hair, oh Father, I should have probably stop when I could. But because neither Winchester’s would know how to take care of Cass, I did which only put me in a worse spot than before.

When Cass left the bunker I kept a close eye on him. Making sure he was safe and kept the Winchester’s and me in mind. Okay so after I saw his true maybe I talked to the older Winchester about ‘Kicking’ Cass out, I guess it happened when I went out to follow an order form Father I was very much a spy. I was only still at the bunker because the Winchester's were looking for angel grace to give back to Cass.

Then all a sudden Cass was back, he was standing in front of me again. The bright glow of his soul no longer what I was staring at. The entire person in front of me was so handsome. And yes I know I’m an angel and I shouldn’t be interested in anyone.

His blue eyes were as bright as the sky on the brightest day too. He’d smile and the wrinkles on his face squished around his eyes but still, the bright blue was so amazing and was pulling me closer and faster every time I saw him.

His white teeth the color of what heaven looked like was even more enticing. He’d smile when he learned something new or was talking about his bees and how so important they were to the evolution to the earth. I also agreed in, but I wasn’t as in love with the bees as Cass was.

Father, Give me the blessing of having self-control.

At least maybe I can have some self-control with Cass oh wait no I can’t, His brown spiked hair, just enough for me to drag my hands through his hair and pull it pulling his face closer to my body. My nails dragging down his back I can still feel the presence of his wings, their energy driving his passion. My grace spilling out of my pores, gracing Cass's body. His grunts of passion, moans of love. His pet names “Honey, Sweetie, Sugar” Somehow always making everything melt inside of me. My lewd and curious mind spitting out bad but wonderful things. I had Cass under my control, he was mine and mine alone.

Waking up was the worst feeling ever. “That was all just a dream?” I asked out loud. I was more asking the question out loud to make it real, but I didn’t expect what happened next, which was the answer. The answer that came from the voice of Cass, ‘Shit’ was all I could think of.

“The answer to your question is, Probably,” Cass said walking into the room that the Winchester boys had given me. “What did you hear?” I asked him. “To be honest, I think it was moaning, and groaning like you were having a nightmare that’s why I came by your room to see if you were okay, Y/n. Are you okay?” Cass said. As he came closer to where I was sitting.

I rubbed my legs together feelings of being suddenly aroused come through my legs and up my waist to my heart. Okay, the dream was nice and everything but what in the holy name of my father, just happened? “You know this is the first time I have ever seen your face, Y/n!” “Same, for me Cass,” I answered quickly.

“There are many features on your beautiful face that I am attracted to,” Cass said, I had forgotten how straight forward Cass really was, I had always thought was because of his angelic side, but maybe it was just Cass. “You see Y/n, you look at me like how do I say it, like how Dean looks at well his car, any type of women, and food.” I turned my head to the side and had a questioning look on my face telling him I needed more information. “Okay how about how Father looks at his people of the earth, almost like he’s madly in love with them. Are you madly in love with me, Y/n?”

What is going on, He’d only been human for a few months, well if we are being exact it been 6 months 23 days so it been some time, sometimes for him to notice that I stare at him more often, and the stares are so much longer. We have been here together for centuries, for eons. Why now does he notice? Was his angelic side holding him back from being able to express his true feelings?

“You’re overthinking, Y/n,” Cass said breaking my train of thought, jeez those lips look really close and look so damn enticing. Oh Father he is really close like our knees are touching his breath fanning me, sending me into a frenzy. I’m moving all by myself, What are you doing Y/n? Stop moving closer.

What happens if Cass doesn’t want this?

“Come over here, and let's stop wasting the time we could have been using. I’m tired of going by the rules. I may not understand love, but we have been together for eons. Y/n I love you, and I want you to be mine for the rest of time.” I pulled the covers from over my body, and jumped into the lap of Cass, his warm hands grabbing my hips and grinding me against him. “I have learned a few things since being human, mostly from Dean. Has Dean says “Rock her world!” and then he winks.”

#castiel x reader #castiel gif #castiel #lustful #supernatural fic #supernatural x reader #implied smut #humancas #angelreader

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undeadimmortality · 3 years

Text

Unexpected

This was supposed to be a short story but after getting lost in my writing all day, I guess it will be a multi chapter!

Castiel x Reade

I was always a Crowley girl, but for some reason this past run through of Supernatural took me by surprise and Castiel caught my attention! He has successfully taken over my life. He can grip me tight and raise me from perdition any day!

Wanrings: Violence, Fluff, Idk, Smut maybe (I love to read smut, I'm very bad at writing it) Maybe other warnings, read with discretion.

The night air was calm and crisp, your breathing visible as you walked back to your room at the run-down motel you were hiding in. You gripped your coat tighter, piled your snacks in one arm, and reached in your pocket for the room key. As you jammed the key into the lock and swung the door open, you froze. The room was now dark, and you were sure you left the nightstand lamp on. The smell of sulfur filled your nostrils. It took two seconds for you to react as you dropped your snacks, and turned heel to bolt, but the hand that now gripped your elbow was faster and about to pull in back into the room. This was not the first time you were found by the demons, and you’d been fighting to survive your whole life. Reacting swiftly, you grabbed your knife that was attached to your hip and swung it up and straight through the demon’s throat with all the strength you could muster. Turning heel, you made a break for your car, and successfully peeled out on to the highway before seeing three more demons run out into the road watching as you sped off. That was a close one, you thought, you must either be getting sloppy, or Lucifer is recruiting more than his little demon squad to hunt you down. You’ve been dodging the devil for months now, so he must be getting desperate, which meant you needed to get smarter about hiding. You huffed in annoyance as your stomach grumbled, realizing that dinner would have to be put on the back burner for the night. And now your hands and clothes were soaked in blood and getting all over your car! Just fucking great, you thought, as you sped off through the night.

Castiel POV

“Cain has a child, Cas, your kidding! Why are we finding out about this ‘bastard child’ now?” Sam whined, in his normal sulky tone.

“The child is on heavens radar now, I never knew of him until Heaven gained intel that Lucifer has been searching for the child for months, and we need to find him before Lucifer does. This is our top priority as of now. If Lucifer gets his hands on the child of Cain, it could mean second Armageddon. Lucifer is seeking the child’s power, and this child is not an ordinary demon spawn, their power could rival that of any Archangel’s. Lucifer would be undefeatable.” Castiel explains.

“Alright then, let’s gank the kid, where do we start?” Dean says, his famous cockiness shining through.

“Whoah, let’s think about this for a second. Why haven’t we picked up on his powers yet if the kid’s so dangerous? We’re just going to off an kid without any knowledge of who they are?” Sam asks

“Yes, that part remains unknown, I’m guessing his powers haven’t manifested yet, but the child is far from innocent, and we can’t risk their powers manifesting and Lucifer getting ahold of said powers. The child dying before anything can be set into action is the only option.” Castiel explains further.

YOUR POV

A few weeks went by, and Lucifer’s search was getting harder to hide from. Another pack of demons had caught up to you in some rural town in North Dakota, forcing you to flee South. With the demons hot on your tail you stupidly missed the group of three boys that had caught up to you in a town you stopped at for the night; and little did you know you’re life what about to change.

It was mid-November, you’re favorite time of year. The air was crisp and cold. The snow laid a blanket of beauty over the dead trees. Even in times like this, it was hard to not stop and appreciate the beauty of nature. It’d been about three days of non-stop travel and sleeping in the back seat of your car, so stopping for a day or so was necessary. You had figured the demons couldn’t catch up in a day, so stopping in a small town for some R&R was far too appealing. After picking a hotel, and some dinner at a local dinner, you headed back to your room for a much-needed shower and some rest. You washed up and you hopped in to bed about to flick on the TV, but froze when you heard a knock come from the door. Not just a knock, more like an impolite pound. You groaned in annoyance and started stuffing your bag with your belongings. A day was all you needed, just a god damned day! At least you had gotten a shower in before the stupid demons decided to show up and ruin your night, you thought. As quickly and quietly as you could, you slipped out of the bathroom window, jumping to the ground, and turning to make a run for it.

But before you could react, you let out a gasp as you collided with man’s chest and backed away to get a good look at him. The feeling of terror ran through your spine before the man had placed two fingers on your forhead and darkness took over your thoughts. You didn’t see black eyes staring back at you, this time they were blue. The angels had found you.

Castiel POV

Normally Castiel was quick to react, but when the small girl climbed out through the window, unaware of Castiel’s presence, he was surprise to say the least. On their hunt for Cain’s child, they didn’t know who to expect, but a 20 something girl who looked the furthest thing from evil, was not who they expected to find. If it weren’t for the faint birth mark on her right forearm, he would have thought they caught the wrong person.

YOUR POV

“Ughhhh” you groaned, a bright light blurring your vision as your eye’s fluttered open. You lifted your arm to shield your eyes, only to have they stop from the shackles on your wrist. Panic took over and your breathing shallowed. You lifted you head, and frantically took in your surroundings. Your body was painfully shackled to a chair. The room was windowless, and empty aside form a few pieces of furniture, you, and three men muttering to themselves by the entrance. The angel was the first to notice you stir and got the others attention. When you got a good look at the boys, you recognized them almost immediately. The Winchester name was not new to you, and you had actually seen them in person a few times when they caught up to demons that were after you. You were lucky to stay under their and their stupid angels pet’s radar for years now until now.

“You got to joking!” You groaned, wrenching on your chains.

“Oh, far from it sweetheart! You’ve been dodging us for weeks now, it was only a matter of time before we caught you.” Dean started.

“Don’t falter yourself, sweatheart.” You sneered. “I was dodging-someone else.” You finished, not wanting to give up to much info, god knows what these buffoons already knew.

“You know who we are?” Sam asked, cautious and curious, but not rude like his stupid brother.

“Of course, I know who the famous Winchester brothers are! And they’re pet angel” You sneered. “You boys have actually done me quite a few favors by getting rid of some of those demons that have been on my tail in the past. I’d say thanks, but…” You smiled, putting as much sass in your words as possible.

“Enough of this!” Castiel lunged forward, bringing an angel blade up to your throat, his face inches from yours causing your breath to hitch.

With him this close you got a good look at the angel, not the vessel, but that shiny blue grace in his irises. He knew it too. “I see you, angel” you sneered. “Holding up your reputation well I see, shoot first and ask questions later! Just DO IT!” You spat. His only reaction was to push the angel blade harder on your skin causing skin to break and blood to trickle down your chest. You winced at the pain but held eye contact. No way were you going to show weakness, and certainly not to this self-righteous dick. You noticed a small crack in the angel’s exterior for a split second and you swear you caught a glimpse of confusion, remorse maybe?

“Cass..” Sam said, putting a hand on the shoulder.

Cass pulled back, and the three mean exited the room, locking it up behind you. You scoffed. Stupid Winchesters, you thought. If they weren’t going to kill you, you were a sitting duck in here for Lucifer to happily collect. Not to mention completely chained down. The chains hurt, and the slice on your neck burned.

Castiel POV

“I was all for ganking the bitch, but I don’t know Cass, I’m with Sammy on this one. That girl doesn’t seem dangerous. Could you sense her powers at all? Dean said.

“She’s got a big attitude, but she seems harmless, plus who knows how many times we’ve actually come close to finding her out in the past with what she said. If that holds true why hasn’t she tried to kill us?” Sam put in.

“Yes, she isn’t what I expected to find…” Castiel paced back and forth in deep thought.

“A hot chick!” Dean gave Sammy a wink and clicked his tongue. Both Sam and Castiel glared back, not amused.

“I can sense her powers, but it’s like they’re lying dormant. Like they’re deeply buried almost asleep. She-“ He started, pausing to look at the brothers. “She seemed scared. It was small, but I saw the fear in her eyes when she thought I was going to kill her. Not like killing a monster sort of fear. Her fear was innocent.” He started to pace again. “You’re right Sam, this feels wrong. We’ll need more information before her blood is on our hands. We need to keep this a secret for now. If the angels find out we caught the Child of Cain, it would mean her imminent death.” Castiel continued to pace.

“I can see why she’s blended in so well for years, with no powers, she seems like a normal girl” Sam finished.

Trying to sleep while chained to a hard chair only made your sour mood towards your captures turn to borderline hatred. Without any windows you couldn’t tell what time it was, but it had to be close to morning. Your whole body was achy and stiff, and your skin started to break under the cuffs.

You wiggled and wrenched, trying to get some semblance of comfort only to cause your joints more pain.

“Hello!!!” You yelled, your temper getting the best of you. “Hello!!! I have to pee and I’m starving!!” you wiggled around some more, getting more pissed by the second. It only took three more times of screaming as loud as possible, before you heard the lock unlatch and Castiel come in to view.

“Not very gentlemanly to keep a lady locked up all night now is it?” You scoffed. Before you could react the cuffs magically replaced the chairs wrist chains; and Castiel grabbed your arm and started dragging you towards the door.

Your feet hadn’t caught up to the movement and were about to fall face first into the ground before the angel caught you and stood you up straight.

“What’s your problem?” You groaned towards the angels back, who continued to drag you out of the bunker and only stopping when he reached a bathroom. After shutting the door behind the both of you, both eyes on each other.

“You get off on watching or what?” You said.

Apparently, he got the hint and turned around. You don’t know why you expected him to stay outside, but-well you didn’t know what to expect.

After you washed you washed up, finally able to wash some of the blood off your neck, the angel wasted no time to return you your cell.

“Why are you doing this?” You pleaded, panic starting to rise. Being locked up for another day was already painful to think about.

“You know why.” Castiel started walking towards the door after chaining you back up.

“This isn’t fair. If you’re going to kill me, just do it! I’m a sitting duck in here for Lucifer and you know it! Why even keep me locked up if you gonna ki-“ You started to ramble, but the Angel had heard enough, and the door shut, leaving you alone.

“Please, you can’t leave me here! I’m innocent! Castiel!!” You screamed to the empty room. You weren’t the type for begging, but at this point you were starving, your body was ached, and you hadn’t slept in over 24 hours. Getting desperate wasn’t beneath you in this stage.

It’d been well over 24 hours before you saw the 3 boys again. With nothing to do but sit in the darkness, you started to think you might actually go insane. The panic attacks would come, you’d fight and wrench on the chains, then cry, and then calm down, only to do it over and over again. On the third day, it was Sam this time, he’d taken you to the bathroom, letting you enter alone, thank god. He even brought you a sandwich and some water. The 4th day it was Dean this time, same routine, except he didn’t bring you any food. What a prick, you thought. If they wanted to starve you to death, they were succeeding. It went on this way for another couple weeks, and after the first, you’d manage to find a position where you could get some semblance of sleep at times.

You were startled awake by the door opening, and sat up to see Sam walk over to you. Sam held a glass of water up to your lips, but you whipped your head to the side, full on planning to give him the silent treatment. Being chained up for a month was starting to take it’s toll. You were weak and in a lot of pain. You were done playing their games.

“Please drink. I know for a fact Dean forgot to bring you food again yesterday.” Sam pleaded.

You didn’t say anything, but you couldn’t help the tears that threatened to spill over.

“My name” You croaked.

“What” Sam asked, confused.

“None of you even bothered to ask my name, do you know what it is? Or do you sadists prefer “Bastard Child of Cain?” You sneered, anger rising up your throat.

“No-Now that you mention it, no I don’t know your name.” Sam confessed.

“Get out.” You said, you’d had enough, either they kill you or you starve, you’d made your decision.

“What is your-“ Sam started.

“GET OUT!!!” You screamed, tears successfully spilling over, causing Sam to immediately vacate the dungeon. Okay I’ve officially gone insane, you thought.

A few more days went by, but you had officially gone off the rails. The skin under the chains held permanent open wounds, but the pain didn’t hurt as much anymore. It was more of a reminder that you were still the Winchesters prisoner. The boys, even Castiel attempted to get you to eat, but only succeeding with some sips of water, which you cursed your self for drinking. You’d been on a no food or drink streak for a couple days, but your dehydration got the better of you.

To your surprise, you watched Castiel walk into the room.

“Ahh! Finally grew some big boy balls to actually kill me, did you?” You croaked, cursing your dry throat for sounding weak!

To your surprise he released the chains and helped you stand. He led you out by your arm, but not as hostile as he’d been before. This time, he led you down a different hallway, walking with you rather than dragging you. As you slowly limped along, your back permanently ached from being chained up for a month. He stopped at a different bathroom, this one with a shower, and on the counter was your backpack, along with a towel.

Bringing you attention back to Castiel, he unlocked the cuffs, and placed his hand over your chest. You winced as a sharp pain rippled through you and then nothing. Looking down you saw your wrists were healed, and your body felt normal. Wiggling your legs, you couldn’t help the smile that crept along your lips.

“Why?” You asked, looking back up to the angel. Guilt was plastered all over his face, which only furthered your confusion. As far as you knew he wanted to end your life the day they caught you, but you assumed the Winchesters had more devious plans and they were who kept you alive.

“Take as long as you need, I’ll be waiting.”

The shower was literally heaven. Even with you healed, the hot water helped soothe your achey muscles. Along with fresh clothes, and bring able to brush your hair and teeth!? You felt like a new person! When you walked out, Castiel was waiting like he said he’d be, but your hope was short-lived when you heard the click of a lock and felt the familiar cold steal against your wrists. Glancing at the cuffs and back at Castiel, he saw hope leave your eyes.

“It’s just a pre-caution.” He said, motioning for you to walk forward. The hallway led into the kitchen, and then lead in to a library/dining room area where both Winchesters sat at a table. When they heard you enter, they stood up, and Sam pulled out a chair at the end of table and gestured for you to take a seat, which you cautiously took, and Castiel took the seat between you and Dean.

“What is this?” You asked, eyeing up both boys.

“We havn’t actually been introduced.” Sam started. “I’m Sam, this is my brother Dean, and this is Castiel.” He paused looking to you to answer.

Being the snarky person you were, you scoffed and gave him an “are you serious?” look.

“Oh! I almost forgot.” Same ran to the kitchen, and brought back a glass of water, and a to-go box of what looked to be pancakes, eggs, and bacon. You mouth watered since you were on technically still on strike.

Immediately reaching for the fork he placed down, the handcuffs broke the silence as they dragged against the edge of the table.

“These too” You stated, holding up your wrists.

“No way in hell” Dean started, but without argument Castiel snapped his fingers and the handcuffs disappeared. You smiled in glee and wiggled in your seat at the new found pleasure of not being chained up. Placing the first bite of pancake n your mouth, you moaned as the sweet syrupy bread lit up your taste buds. Even if the food was a little cold, it tasted amazing compared to their half-ass put together sandwiches they’ve been feeding you. A couple more bites, and a whole glass of water later, you were content enough to play along.

“(y/n)” You said through a mouthful of eggs.

“(y/n).” Sam smiled.

“Not that I don’t enjoy this newfound hospitality after being chained up for over a month, but why?” You threw your hands in the air. Looking around and getting a good observation of your surroundings. You knew exactly where you were, or were guessing at least. Looking at the research that covered youe table and the others, you knew this had something to do with those bone headed Men of Letters you’d heard about through the monster grape vine.

All three men started a different explanation at once, when l a light bulb went off!

“Ah!” Your eyebrows raise looking between them. “There’s no lore on the “Bastard child of Cain” is there?! So, you butter me up and expect me to spill all my deepest darkest secrets??” You laugh and stuff another piece of pancake in your mouth.

“Well, she’s quick, I’ll give her that.” Dean says, taking a swig of beer.

“Listen (y/n), we want to prove that we’re not the bad guys here and you weren’t exactly what we-. “Sam started.

“Hah” You scoff, throwing your fork on the table. “You know, I spend my entire life running and hiding from a world where everything wants me dead. And I get caught by the “good guys”, who chain me up for a month.”

“(y/n) we’r- Sam tried to cut in.

“Stop.” You start, staring Sam down. “Truth is, your cowards.” The anger tasted like bile in you throat, but you stopped there, seeing the guilt written all over Sams face was payment enough and you didn’t want to piss them off to the point where they lock you up again.

“You’re right” Castiel broke the silence “About everything. We are cowards. When the rumors spread, I knew my mission was to find you before Lucifer did and extinguish your power. Even after meeting you, I was willing to kill you if it meant we got an upper hand in this fight. I am truly sorry for the pain I’ve caused you, and realize now that if your only sin was being born then you deserve to live and we’re on your side, but we need to know we can trust you and right now, aside from rumors we have no idea what or who you are.”

Sighing, you leaned back in your chair, and bit down on your bottom lip in contemplation. “Alight.” You say. “What do you want to know, but I get one of those.” You stated, pointing towards Dean’s beer.

Dean started to argue, but unwillingly grabbed you a fresh beer after some glares from the other men. He grumbled something of the sort about being demanding and having an attitude as he brough back your beer.

Sam jumped at the offer, getting a notebook out and started the interrogation. Apparently, the Men of Letters were thorough, and questions were getting personal.

“It’s rude to ask a girl her weight! What’s next my bra size?” You sassed back to Sam.

“I mean yeah, couldn’t hurt right, it’s research!” Dean piped up, earning a round of scoffs from the table.

You chuckled. “I don’t know Sam, I didn’t have time to by a scale and weigh myself while on the run from the Devil. But, for another beer, I’ll step on one if you got it here.” Giving Dean a sly smile.

Little did you know that second beer was a huge mistake because after getting on the scale, Sam and his stupid puppy dog eyes convinced you to also give up a blood sample, and other personal exams that you would have knocked someone out for asking, but you figured if you played by their rules, they wouldn’t lock you up again.

After a few more hours of poking and prodding, the boys were hitting the hey, and Castiel led you back to the cell. The feeling of dread hit your core, until you walked in and saw that at some point a bed had been placed in the cell, along with a few others things, and some books.

“It’s not that we don’t trust you, but-“Castiel started.

It’s fine Castiel, honestly anything better than being chained to a chair.” The buzz of the beers was wearing off, and sleepiness was creeping through.

“If you need anything I’ll be right outside. Goodnight (y/n)” And with that Castiel left and the lock to the door was the last sound you heard.

The weeks went by pretty fast after that. Castiel guarding your every move, the boys asking questions, and trying to gain more intel not only on you, but on your power and how to keep you alive while defeating Lucifer. They let you eat with them, research, and drink. You had learned that the bunker was warded up and down, and even though you were technically a prisoner, being here was the safest place in the world for you, and honestly it felt great to let your guard down a bit and relax. You too had questions, about yourself, about your father. The boys were helping you gain some answers, so you were content for the time being. The boys were being won over by cooking and cleaning that kept you busy when you weren’t researching. Takeout was getting old so you forced Sam to make grocery runs, and happily cooked some decent meals for the three of you. Not to mention the dirty laundry and surfaces that seemed to never stay clean, no matter how much you tried. You were even winning the Angel over after a while and were surprised to hear him pipe up when you fought for an actual room, rather than the dungeon.

“Why not??” You whined, stomping your foot a bit to prove your agitation.

“Is she seriously asking this? Dean turned to Sam, then turned to you. “Are you seriously asking this??

“What am I gonna do try to escape?? Kill you in your sleep?? You mocked In the best Dean voice you could muster. “Cass guards the cell, why can’t he guard a bedroom? This is unfair! I can’t gain your trust if you don’t give me more opportunities!” You yelled back, placing your hands on you hips for good measure.

Cass had defended you and deemed you his personal responsibility, and the boys finally agreed. So, with a squeal you launched your arms over the angels shoulder, earning a pleasantly surprised grunt from Cass, and ran off to gather your things.

“Stay out of my room!” Dean yelled after you. “She’s gonna be the death of us.” He grunted and Sam chuckled as you yelled back that you found the room you wanted and were in the process of throwing Deans underwear in the hall.

#castiel x reader #dean and sam #supernatural #fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #castiel fanfiction

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and-stir-the-stars · 2 years

Note

i just wanted to send an ask to let you know that you're awesome and loved in case no has told you today :) and what kind of car do you think dad cas would drive (you seem to be interested in cars or at least continentals so I'm curious)

!!!!

Bestie,, you're so kind, that means a lot to me right now. You're amazing and so creative and such a joy, I hope you know you're loved, too! <333

You may have been just a little bit misled; I know absolutely nothing about cars, I'm just seriously obsessed with Cas' Continental. It's such a weird and random obsession, I know, but I love the Continental (or Connie, as I like to call her; or Honey, as Cas definitely calls her) because that car is one of the few things Cas had that was actually his! That car meant something to him, and besides his angel blade and trench coat, it was one of the only possessions Cas had that held meaning and emotional attachment for him. But instead of being allowed to keep the car that held so much meaning for him, the writers got rid of it. Not only did they get rid of it, from then on they had Cas ride cars that he stole-- ones that were only chosen and kept around as long as they were convenient, cars that could be thrown away and replaced as soon as they weren't useful anymore. Sound familiar? Don't get me wrong, I do enjoy Cas' other cars, especially his brown truck, but can you see why getting rid of Connie makes me so mad??

Okay, now that the obligatory Continental simping is out of the way, time for your actual question! <3

As I said, I don't know anything about cars, so if you were expecting a specific make and model, I'm afraid I can't help you there. But honestly, I think Cas would probably read something in one of those parenting books or classes that he definitely immerses himself in before he becomes a dad about how some cars are safer than others, and you need to choose a good one for your child. He'd do a bunch of research-- looking things up online, randomly wandering up to parents (and probably vaguely frightening them with his intensity, poor things), asking car dealerships and mechanics, etc about what cars are the best for children, and he'd go with the general consensus he'd glean from those questions.

Though I am extremely biased and I want Cas to have his Continental 24/7, I'm gonna go out on a limb and guess that it does not have a very good safety rating, especially by the standards of today's cars.

As much as Cas loves his Honey, his love for his children will always go over his love for the car, so I don't think Cas would use the Continental if he had small children like infants or toddlers in the car. When the kids get a bit older (or, in Jack's case, taller?) that'd probably change, as long as Cas drives extra carefully (but honestly Cas always drives extra carefully when his kid(s) are in the car).

#thanks for the ask!!#twas so much fun to think about!#sorry for the connie rant but connie stanning is simply a must. it is obligatory reading material for my blog <3 #castiel's continental #castiel #spn

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found--family · 4 years

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‘Supernatural’ season 15, episode 15 screener secrets: We’re ‘Highway to Heaven’-ing this bitch

[everything is from this Hypable article]

This week on Supernatural, Amara returns and are angels solving people crimes now? Hypable previewed Supernatural season 15, episode 15 “Gimme Shelter,” so read on to find out more.

After a sweet and fun return to ease us back into the world of Supernatural last week, things are heating up pretty dramatically – I knew there wouldn’t be much more time for messing around.

“Gimme Shelter” sees Supernatural dip its feet into what the Winchesters currently believe is their big plan – eliminating Chuck by also taking down Amara, resulting in what they believe will be a cosmic-being-free balanced world. But first, they have to find her. Sam and Dean get a pretty good lead on her location, which results in a very interesting conversation between Amara and the boys – especially with her most favoritest Dean, of course.

Meanwhile, Castiel is persuaded into taking Jack to investigate a nearby case in Missouri – which all three adults suspect is probably the work of a human criminal – for the sake of humoring Jack and keeping him both busy and supervised. On the way home, they have a very interesting conversation of their own.

Spoiler Warning: This article contains generalized spoilers for Supernatural season 15 episode 15, “Gimme Shelter.” If you do not wish to be spoiled at all, do not read this article in advance of the airdate.

The official synopsis for Supernatural season 15, episode 15 reads:

MATT COHEN DIRECTS — Castiel (Misha Collins) and Jack (Alexander Calvert) work a case involving members of a local church. Meanwhile, Sam (Jared Padalecki) and Dean (Jensen Ackles) go off in search of Amara (guest star Emily Swallow). Matt Cohen directed the episode written by Davy Perez (#1515). Original airdate 10/15/2020.

If you want to know what to expect from this week’s Supernatural, here’s 10 teasers plus 15 single word clues from our advance viewing of Supernatural season 15, episode 15 “Gimme Shelter.”

‘Supernatural’ season 15, [10] episode 15 screener secrets

1️⃣ During the filming of this episode (27 January – 5 February) Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles both spent much of the week at home with their families in Austin, a detail which was made clear on their and their wives’ public social media accounts – possibly the result of scheduled time off as they’ve mentioned occasionally requesting? The result is that the episode is weighted much more towards Cas, Jack and the murder investigation they’re chasing than towards Sam and Dean, but on the flip side, the Sam and Dean arc is more crucial to the long game of the show, so what it lacks in minutes, it makes up for in impact.

2️⃣ However, the episode still begins and ends in a grounded family group way, at home in the Bunker – one of those “we know we should be doing this together but there are Reasons we have to split up” situations. This detail, in my opinion, really speaks to the motivation of the creative team towards honoring the four leads as parts of a whole – in earlier days, this kind of episode would have been two entirely non-touching threads. This one is, if not a tapestry, at very least a braid – tied up together at both ends, and intertwined in the middle.

3️⃣ You might have seen pictures or ominous trailer footage of Castiel and Jack digging a hole at the crossroads. We all know what that means! However, don’t worry. They simply want to talk – and the demon they summon has some really interesting – and dare I say positive? – news about the state of Hell under Her Most Gracious Majesty Queen Rowena. Let’s just say the demon is actually pretty friendly… and extremely bored.

4️⃣ The two main guest stars on Cas and Jack’s side of the episode are both actors who have been briefly featured on the show before, in a couple of pretty famous episodes – one from season 2 and one from season 5. I don’t think there’s meant to be any meta or Easter Egg element to this, just the usual Vancouver casting industry cycle (see the ‘Weren’t You In Another Episode‘ reference page on the SuperWiki) but one of them is one of those cute “I appeared on Supernatural as a child and now I’m here as an adult” situations, and the other, well… the original character’s very name has become the stuff of Supernatural legend, and if I were in charge of this episode I would have put the actor in a particular piece of footwear and made sure we got a shot of it, just for kicks.

5️⃣ Castiel steps into a prayer circle when the church group members are meant to give a testimony – presumably of their journey so far and their relationship with faith. That’s what Cas chooses to share, at least – in a non-specific, humanized way – and fans of the character will be moved to hear the ways he verbalizes his own growth.

6️⃣ Speaking of growth, some of Dean’s is spelled out for him in the most miraculous way by Amara. After Sam and Dean meet up with her and have a conversation about Chuck that’s ultimately a bit of a non-starter, Dean returns to ask her another, more personal question. Her response gave me legitimate chills. It’s a very weighty mic drop and the combination of the level of impact and the level of clarity (it’s entirely airtight, no room for interpretation) feels like the culmination of all the self-actualization work the show has been doing on Dean in the last four years. (I wish I could tell you Sam got a big special moment like this in the episode, but he doesn’t. Amara’s return was always going to be Dean’s thing.) Amara’s speech to Dean… it doesn’t feel isolated, like the idea of it was invented just for this episode. It feels more like concrete evidence of what the show has been trying to prove for ages. And the funny thing is, Amara is the anti-Chuck, right, and all season, we’ve learned about the version of the story Chuck thinks is good, and we’ve been told to root against that. Chuck’s version of Supernatural isn’t how the writers really feel. But I think Amara’s might be. Dean has obviously struggled to see what she tells him, all in one piece, but here it is – this was the point, laid out on the table, from the entity behind the curtain – both onscreen and off. Amara knew what she was doing, and so did the writers. This was always, always the point.

7️⃣ Even before this massive scene, Amara’s return is just great. Emily Swallow does such an incredible job with this character – she really is the anti-Chuck even without the whole writer comparison. Swallow imbues this character with such an incredible peace and stillness in comparison to Chuck’s histrionics – this was true in the way she spoke and behaved even in season 11, but this Amara also feels kindness and patience and tolerance. She radiates power, even when she’s also slightly goofy. There’s no fight, there’s no antagonism, but the boys in her presence are like little fish in a vast ocean – they quickly realise they have no real control in this conversation. The way that we leave her indicates she’ll be back and has more to say or do, and what she shared during her reunion with Sam and Dean makes me really curious about the role she’s due to play in the show’s endgame.

8️⃣ I’m not very religious but I really like the version of a church group or ‘faith-based community,’ as they say, featured in “Gimme Shelter.” Supernatural has a shaky history in terms of how the show portrays people in-universe who believe. Sometimes they’re treated like a joke, or stupid, or dangerous, or hypocrites, but occasionally civilian acts of faith are shown as great and powerful things, even in a world where we know that what they believe in isn’t strictly accurate. That concept became an even bigger question mark for me when we got the reveal that Judeo-Christian God is not only absent, but our actual villain. However, this was a really nice look at why faith can still be a framework for a good way of life – loving thy neighbor – for some people, no matter the truth about Chuck. The episode also features a callback to writer Davy Perez’ very first Supernatural episode “American Nightmare” in terms of the way that some people have weaponized faith and religion to the detriment and harm of others or even themselves, but this factor does not negate the positive point mentioned above.

9️⃣ Supernatural alum and newly minted director Matt Cohen really got the full old-school Supernatural episode experience when it comes to leaning into the spooky horror element. The murderous case-of-the week featured in this episode is heavy and lingering on the gore and even contains a little bit of a jump scare, so view responsibly.

🔟 So, um, you know that line, in this week’s teaser trailer? The line that a lot of people are freaking out about because it seems to pertain to something important that we know about Cas’ fate that Dean and Sam aren’t aware of? Yeah, it is 100% absolutely not about that at all. It is about something super important, but it’s not that. It’s also the last line of the episode, but trust me – it’s not a cliffhanger and it’s not a red herring and it’s not a twist. The information is gleaned within the episode and you’ll know exactly what Cas is telling Dean about after seeing it – narratively, that’s the reason it isn’t in the episode, because the show clearly assumes you’ll get the picture and can skip a rehash of information. But what you were probably expecting – maybe even hoping for – it’s not that. You’re gonna have to hang on for that one.

Finally, have 15 random yet significant words from this week’s episode without any context whatsoever: Gaia, Ronald, mother, pierogies, cats, philosophy, target, blind, permission, lockdown, Kool-aid, buffet, gift, trial, choice.

‘Supernatural’ airs Thursday at 8/7c on The CW

#spn s15 #teasers #spn 15x15 #Hypable #preview #thoughts #s15 #15x15 #this gets long as well as spoilery hence the /under the cut/#destiel

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leahxx129 · 4 years

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Heaven’s on Fire (Castiel x Reader)

This is my submission to the talented @lettersofwrittencollective ‘s 1K Celebration challenge. Congrats once more! :))

I had this idea in the back of my mind for quite a while now and her challenge came as a heavenly sign to write & publish it, so here we go. My prompt can be found in bold in the text. I hope you all enjoy it! :) Oh, and if you want to listen to the song mentioned in the fic, you can do that here.

Disclaimer: Tumblr is being weird again so if you’re using the app, the ‘Keep Reading’ cut off line may not be visible inspite of the fact that I always insert one.

Summary: You’ve successfully managed to get off the grid but thanks to your best friend, the one person you wish to see the least finds you and reveals a surprising truth. Will it be enough to bury the hatchet though?

Warnings: angst, cursing, mentions of sex

Word count: 2.790-ish

You are tapping your fingertips against your glass as you watch the ice cubes slowly melt and dissolve in the bourbon. Is this your second? Or third? You have no idea. And frankly, you don’t even give a damn.

This Friday night is just like any other in the past year – you find a bar, have a few drinks… sometimes you leave alone, sometimes you don’t. It depends on your mood and on how attractive the person trying to get in your pants is. Truth be told though; you haven’t been so picky lately as you’ve realized that when you close your eyes, they all look just like him.

You’ve been here for about an hour now and only two candidates have summoned the courage to approach you but sadly, none of them measure up to your lowered standards. You roll your eyes in annoyance and down what’s left of your drink. Just as you’re about to get up and leave, another bourbon is placed on the small round table in front of you. Your look of disapproval soon turns into bewilderment as your eyes travel to the face of your server.

“Feathers?” you blurt out and despite your best efforts, the pet name sounds more like a question than a statement.

A faint smile is playing in the corner of his mouth.

“It’s been a while since I heard that one.”

Castiel sits down across you and takes a sip from the booze he got for himself. Hundreds of questions are racing through your mind and you’re having a hard time deciding which one to ask first.

“Which one of those asshats sold me out?” you eventually settle on one. Around the apocalypse situation back in 2010, the angel branded your ribs with the spell that keeps people off the celestial radar, too, so he couldn’t have found you all by himself.

“Assuming you are referring to the Winchesters, it was Sam.”

“Should’ve thought so…” you say dryly. “When I texted him my location, I thought I made it clear that I’m only available in case of emergencies. “

“I sort of tricked him into believing this was an emergency.” he admits, and you can’t believe what you’re hearing.

“What do you want, Cas?”

“I wanted to see you, Y/N.” your name rolls off his tongue the softest way possible. “When I was sent back to Earth from the Empty, I was perplexed not to find you in the bunker.”

“Yeah, well, I needed some space and a breath of fresh air.”

“A thousand miles away from there? From me?” he adds the last part reluctantly.

“You do not have the right to guilt-trip me, okay? If anything, I should be doing that to you…”

He draws his eyebrows together in confusion.

“I do not understand.”

Of course he doesn’t... You try to blink them away but a couple of hot teardrops stream down your face, nevertheless. He instinctively grabs your hand you’ve been resting on the table and squeezes it.

“Please look at me.”

Every fiber in your body is protesting because once you look into those ocean eyes, he wins… but you comply anyway.

“Explain?” he murmurs.

You hear the appeal leave his lips but all you can concentrate on is the way his fingers are pressing yours. It conjures the memory of the very first time you held hands...

You finished applying lipstick and checked your complete makeup in the review mirror. A sophisticated trophy wife was staring back at you, which meant that you accomplished your goal. You silently thanked the Lord Sam and Dean weren’t with you because you would never hear the end of their mockery.

“Okay, I’m done. Tell me, Feathers, how do I look?” you turned to Castiel who’d been riding shotgun before you parked your dark blue 1970 Ford Fairlane in the church’s parking lot.

“Uhm, you look lovely, Y/N, although you do not quite resemble your everyday self.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“For the sake of this mission I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

“It was meant to be one.”

You shrugged then proceeded to give him a once-over.

“Well, you look dashing as always, but I suggest losing the trench coat. It doesn’t suit the occasion and we certainly don’t want to raise Father Milton’s suspicion. If he senses something is off, he’ll never lead us to his angel-hearing daughter.”

He appeared torn for a minute.

“But my angel blade is in my trench coat. If I leave it in your car and things take a turn for the worse, what will I use for protection?”

You pulled your chiffon skirt up, revealing a .45 Hardballer attached to your thigh. His eyes followed your abrupt movement but as soon as he realized where his gaze landed, he looked away. If you weren’t imagining, he even blushed a little.

“As long as we’re dealing with humans, this shall do.” you pulled the skirt back down. “Now c’mon. We need to find this Anna girl before the demons do.”

You both got out of the car and walked to the church’s entrance but before you went in, you adjusted his tie.

“Okay, Castiel, remember… we are Mr. and Mrs. Novak, expecting our first child, and we are here to see the girl who hears the angels so she could bless our baby.”

“I still believe this is a ridiculous cover story.” he commented.

“They’re religious people, they’re gonna buy it, trust me.”

With that, you took his right hand and laced your fingers with his. He almost yanked his arm away - you could tell from the little twitch you felt – but stopped himself from doing so.

“What are you doing, Y/N?”

“We have to make our cover realistic and this is one way to do that. Relax a bit, would you? You’re stiffer than a stick…”

“What you’re saying is not humanly possible for my vessel, but I suppose I perceive the insinuation.”

You rolled your eyes at his awkwardness and pushed the church door wide open.

The memory makes you smile and when you look up to his face, you see him replicating your expression. He must’ve been reminiscing about the same thing.

You pull your hand from his grip and first you swallow your glass of bourbon, then his, too, not minding the puzzled look he gives you. You need all the liquid courage you can get.

“You want an explanation? Here you go!” you reply, feeling the warmth of alcohol spreading through your body. “I simply cannot be in your immediate proximity anymore, Cas, I just can’t! I have no idea when these feelings for you developed exactly, but they did. And every single time you sacrificed yourself for the greater good over the years, I died a little inside… which is crazy, because you’ve never seemed to be interested in me like that… So, when Lucifer killed you for the second time, that was the last straw. I couldn’t keep breaking my own heart for somebody who just sees me as a really close friend with occasional benefits. I had to get away in order to piece myself back together.”

He sighs your name passionately and the next second he leans over the table, gently captures your chin between his thumb and index finger and locks his lips with yours.

You’re not sure what amazes you more – the fact that he’s kissing you or the scene that starts outlining in your mind.

You remember the place that comes to life in your head. It’s the higher scale pub where you had your farewell drinks at with the Winchesters, Bobby and Cas the night before Sam let Lucifer wear him to the prom. Not counting the five of you and the bartender, the joint was empty - courtesy of the angel’s heavenly persuasion technique applied on the bouncer so he wouldn’t let anyone else in.

But something isn’t quite right…this is not your memory.

It’s Castiel’s, you realize.

Cas, Bobby and Dean were sitting around a table, the latter raising a hand to order another round of the most expensive scotch the place served. The world was ending, saving a few dollars on cheap drinks seemed utterly pointless. You and Sam were attempting to dance to an overrated pop song a few tables over, laughing whole-heartedly throughout the process. With a little liquor in his veins the man was a real talent on the dancefloor – or at least that’s what he thought.

“You do realize, Dean, that a few glasses of alcohol will not numb me to the point where I would forget what is ahead of us, right?” Cas inquired but before Dean had the opportunity to come up with a comeback, Bobby jumped in.

“They might not numb you but they’re sure as hell working for me!” he said as he took a sip from his newly arrived quality booze.

“All I’m missing is a hot babe on my laps...” Dean added “What do you guys say, shall we get ourselves some fun female company?”

“I do not know about Bobby, but it is a pass from my side.” Cas replied indifferently then averted the topic, asking what he’d been dying to know all night. “Why are Y/N and Sam dancing so close to each other? Their bodies are touching. Is there… is there something romantic between them?”

Dean and Bobby exchanged a curious glance.

“Cas… are you… jealous?” Dean chose his words carefully and asked in a tone only the three of them could hear.

“I don’t know, honestly. Emotions are a novelty to me.”

“Okay…how do you feel when you see them dancing that close?” Bobby tried approaching the topic differently and succeeded.

“I do not like it. I feel like it is wrong. I would like to be the one that close to her. But apparently, she is completely content with Sam’s proximity.”

“There’s nothing romantic between them, Cas.” Dean declared. “They used to date when they were high schoolers, but that’s it. They’re not an item anymore. So, go get your shot with her while you still can.” there was a short silence, but he continued “Man, my little brother must know something… I mean, staying friends after a breakup? I’m a ladies’ man and not even I can do that!”

“Enough of the bragging, idjit! Order another round instead, would ya? I’m still thirsty…” Bobby scoffed and downed the remainder of his drink.

The rest of the night went by fast. In the end, Bobby and Dean had to drag a very drunken Sam out of the bar as his own legs failed to support him. You returned from the restroom to find Castiel all alone.

“Hey, Feathers… were you waiting for me?” you asked with the sweetest smile he had ever seen and suddenly his heart began beating faster.

“Yes. As a matter of fact, I was. I’d like to talk to you about something.”

“Go on…”

Instead of phrasing his thoughts, he just cupped your face and kissed you. After a short while you were the one to break the interaction and he instantly felt embarrassed, so he uttered the very first thing that came to his mind.

“Thank you, Y/N, for being such a great friend. I deeply appreciate it.”

“Uhm, you’re welcome, I guess…Is there anything else you wanted to share or…?”

“No, we can leave. The others are waiting outside.”

“Okay.”

He knew he screwed up. He had his chance and he totally blew it. But the worst part was that he had no idea how to make it right.

The flashback ends as Cas leans away and your eyes flutter open.

“You… you had a crush on me?”

“Ever since I met you, Y/N.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I was convinced that a fierce, beautiful woman such as yourself could never accept a frail underdog such as myself to be by her side.”

His confession startles you immensely and you need a few seconds to collect your thoughts.

“You’re an idiot, Feathers.”

“So I’ve been told.”

You both chuckle and this time it’s your turn to kiss him.

“There’s so much we need to catch up on…” you whisper against his lips, but he frowns, making you regret your words immediately.

“Uhm, we can’t just yet… first, there’s something I need to take care of.”

“What’s that?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Both.”

Funny how a four-letter word can hurt even more than any physical injury you have ever obtained during your career as a hunter.

“I see.”

“Y/N…“

“Don’t. Just leave, please.”

A flutter of wings indicates he complies with your wish. You call a taxi to take you to the motel you’re staying at as you’ve had enough to drink and don’t want to risk crashing the Fairlane. You are not in the mood for small talk, and sensing this, your driver turns up the volume on the radio. Heaven’s on Fire by KISS blasts through the speakers and it evokes the memory you associate with it.

Sometimes you just needed to take a break from hunting for the sake of your sanity and the estate in the Nebraskan countryside your grandma had willed you a couple of years prior proved to be an excellent safe haven. So consequently, when the Winchester found a very much so human Castiel, it wasn’t even a question where to hide him from the community of pissed off fallen angels.

On a particularly humid afternoon, you finished working on your car and took a quick shower to get rid of all the dirt and oil sticking to your skin. Having only a towel on, you proceeded to the kitchen with the intention of pouring yourself a glass of wine. Cas insisted on doing the grocery shopping, so you were all alone. Suddenly, Heaven’s on Fire by KISS started playing on the radio.

“God, I love this song!” you exclaimed and took a sip from your glass.

“I must say your taste in music is quite similar to Dean’s.” a voice spoke up behind you, making you jump.

You turned to see the ex-angel standing in the door with huge bags in his arms. He was back early.

“Jesus, Feathers, don’t sneak up on me like that! I almost threw my drink in your face and this shit is expensive! Every ounce of it should be treasured not wasted.” you scolded him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you it’s just… I just…” he was visibly struggling to express himself, but his gaze told you more than his words ever could as he slowly dragged it all over your body, examining every curve along the way.

“You’ve never seen a woman in a towel, have you?” you asked, not being able to suppress a smile.

“Only once in a movie about a pizza man.” he admitted shyly.

“A pizza man?” you furrowed your brows but soon enough you remembered the story about this. ”Oooh, I get it. In that case... put the groceries on the counter.”

He appeared a bit confused but did as instructed anyways. When he turned back to your direction, you undid the knot on your towel and let it pool around your legs.

“Now, I want you to show me what you learnt from that pizza man.”

“Are you okay, lady?” the driver asks, turning the volume down a bit and you realize you’ve been crying.

“Uhm, yes… I’m fine. Thank you for asking.” you reply while wiping your eyes.

You roll down the window and let the cool air dry your wet cheeks. This is the last time you allow yourself to be devoured by sorrow because of Castiel. Tomorrow you’ll retrieve the Fairlane and get gone, not leaving a trace you can be found upon.

Cas on the other hand goes back to Lebanon, Kansas, and roams the streets for hours. Eventually he stops in front of two liquor stores adjacent to each other. He wants to make up for all those years you two lost, he really does… but getting together with you would mean the world’s greatest happiness to him and that’s when the Shadow from the Empty would come and drag him back to the land of eternal slumber. He needs to find a way to defeat the Shadow first and then he’ll look for you. But until then there is one choice to make – which one of these liquor stores should he drink to numb the ache in his chest? Maybe both.

#lettersofwrittencollective1k #castiel #reader #castiel x reader #SPN #spnfic #fanfic #supernatural #challenge

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almaasi · 4 years

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Weird But Confident

5k Dean/Cas, Cas finds panties in Dean’s bag and thinks Dean slept with someone else; they argue about it until Dean explains they’re his.

☆

Castiel had a habit of going through Dean’s stuff.

It had never felt invasive, because Cas only got nosy around the same time Dean started trusting him.

It had felt weird, the first time, and Dean had gotten flustered, hanging around nearby asking questions like, “Um, do you really gotta—” and, “Seriously, what are you—”, not to mention the good old, “Okay, that’s, are you, eh-heh! Cas, why—”

But Dean didn’t actually ask him to stop, so Castiel serenely carried on, picking out one item, looking at it, then putting it back.

Eventually Dean realised Cas was just curious. Like a kitten. Or a child. Or an ancient angel who’d never seen a stretchy pair of boxer-briefs before in his life.

The next few times, Dean watched Cas go through his things, but didn’t interfere.

Soon it became a regular occurrence, and Dean barely noticed when Cas starting pulling out his clothes, or his toiletry bag, or mindlessly began pairing socks.

The only truly weird thing about it was the fact Cas clearly wasn’t satisfied by one look. He still went through Dean’s crap, like, once a week. Whether it was Dean’s fresh laundry at the bunker, or his closet, or just his duffel bag while out on the road, Cas never seemed to be looking for anything in particular, but looked at everything, and always put the stuff back neatly. Then, when Cas was done, he went to sit in a chair, or watch TV, or began thumbing through the motel room Bible.

Despite being raised with a military father, Dean had now been eternally emancipated from said father, and his personal organisation skills had gotten lax. And that wasn’t all that was lax. It had taken Dean an embarrassingly long time – like, years – to realise Cas had moved on from curiosity a while back, and was now just tidying up his bag.

☆

~ keep reading ~

#Destiel #Destiel fanfic #Destiel fic rec #DeanCas #Elmie writes things #Elmie makes things #post of postiness #Weird But Confident

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pathetic-has-been-rockstar · 3 years

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A different order

Pairing: none

Written for: @spnchristmasbingo

Square filled: Christmas photshoot

Warnings: none

Summary: The festive atmosphere is finally making its way in the bunker. Sam decides to involve everyone in an unsual Christmas photoshoot, and to leave a tangible mark in the Men of Letters bunker. Ugly Christmas sweaters, brandy glasses and a new softness will lead Dean to a new way to look at his family, while waiting for you to get at the bunker.

Words: 2659

Beta: @raspberrymama

A/N: my work can be found on AO3, here! If you’re interested in the whole series, you just have to click here!

Sam walks into the kitchen, bringing a box along with him. He sets it on the table, and Jack immediately goes to check its content. Castiel contents himself with a strange look. When Dean turns around, wearing an apron and in the middle of cooking pancakes for all, he points at the box with the spatula he's holding.

“No. Take that thing off the table, Sammy. Breakfast first, research later.”

“It's not research, actually. I was looking for... Christmas decorations and things like that, and look what I've found”.

“Pictures!” Jack, as usual, looks thrilled for a second, before looking at Sam with a confused expression. “Wait. The bunker is filled with pictures. Why are these important?”

Sam smiles and points at the frame in Jack's hand. “Look closely. These are Christmas pictures. I was thinking that maybe, since it's the first time we celebrate properly... we might continue the tradition?”

Dean thinks about it for a moment, then scoffs lightly, more touched than what he lets on. He's well aware that Sam has been keeping up with him and the hunting life, and that he kissed goodbye the idea of a normal life to stick with him... but this doesn't mean he was okay with it. The idea of being part of something, the whole “legacy” thing obviously means something to him. To belong somewhere, for people like them, is a luxury and a privilege beyond their wildest dreams. If a stupid photoshoot is what his little brother wants, a stupid photoshoot is what he's going to get. Naturally, this doesn't mean he's going to get it easily.

“I don't know, Sam... do you really want to be up a wall with Cuthberth Sinclair's pals?”

“That's the whole point, man. We might leave proof of what we did.” Sam's smile could light up the room, right now. Castiel looks at him, curious.

“... meaning what?”

“Come on. Can you imagine? A... a Man of Letters picture with an angel, a nephilim, and four hunters?”

“... you want to flip them a proper bird, huh?”

Sam is practically beaming while he nods. “Why, don't you?”

The consensus about the idea of Sam seems to be unanimous, until Dean does a quick headcount. “... wait, four hunters?”

“Yeah, I... I invited Eileen. Did you hear from Y/N?”

“Yep, she should be here tonight. I'll call her later. Eileen? Is she okay with spending your first Christmas with us?”

Sam gives Dean a little, awkward smile, and fishes a picture from the box. There's Sinclair in a corner of it. Sam carefully opens the frame, takes out the picture, and folds it so that “Magnus” isn't visible, before setting the picture back in the frame.

“There, much better!” he murmurs with an approving smile. Castiel looks at Sam, cautious.

“Last time you asked me to be in a picture with you both, things didn't go well.”

Dean answers before Sam can even think about it. “Another good reason to take a new one, right?”

Jack curiously looks at Dean, but he shakes his head. The kid is going to hear that story about Jo and Ellen another time, maybe after some drinks, and in a very different mood. Dean spins on his heels, turns off the flame under the pan, and grabs the handle of it.

“Alright children, settle down. It's time for breakfast. Sam, if you complain about bacon, I swear...”

Sam raises his hands in surrender. He knows better than fighting Dean over breakfast. “I'll settle with cereals, thanks. Can I have some eggs, though?”

“... yeah, you can.”

After breakfast, the four men spend quite a long time studying the old pictures of the order before finally agreeing on the idea for the picture. They're going to use their federal agents suits, but wearing Christmas sweaters underneath them. Dean insists on optional cigars and glasses of cognac, because “that's what gentlemen drink”, even if he doesn't answer how he knows that, despite being asked several times.

Castiel even offers to fly somewhere to find anything missing, but Jack forbids him, siding with Dean.

“We must follow tradition! We'll go buying the things we need at the mall, like people usually do.”

Castiel has seen crowds around Christmas, and that's not a memory he revisits happily. “Jack, tradition is long, complicated, and surely it doesn't include mystical beings such as we are.”

“Then we'll make a new one!”

“I don't think you get the point of traditions, Jack.”

Dean laughs at the deadpan tone of Castiel, then stands up. He looks at Sam and starts giving orders to everyone.

“Cas, you go and look for the brandy and the cigars. Jack, you're on the sweaters. Sammy... you and I go to look for the glasses. They must be somewhere around...”

“Uh, actually... I was thinking to go look for the camera.” Sam interrupts Dean, who tilts his head a bit.

“... what do you mean the camera? We have phones, and we have the digital camera we got a couple of years ago.”

Sam stutters a bit, trying to explain his idea. If Dean didn't tease him about it so far, he surely will now. “Yeah, but I was thinking of using the original camera, too. There's a dark room in here, I was curious to try my hand with that.”

Surprising Sam once again, Dean offers him just a small sigh and a bright smile. “Anything to keep your little geeky heart content, Sammy. Let's start fixing things, come on. As soon as Eileen and Y/N are here, we'll take the picture.”

“Do you think it looks Christmas-sy enough?”

Jack holds a red sweater with a reindeer embroidered on it and turns it so that Cas can look at it. Castiel sighs, opens his mouth to say something, then looks at Jack's expectant expression and resolves to sigh.

“It surely delivers clearly the theme, yes.”

“Great! Let's get this one is for Dean, then, I've heard it's good for people to get in the right mood.”

“I'm not sure Dean will agree... or if he's in the right mood for... anything. Ever.” Cas murmurs while following Jack to another stand of terrible sweaters. The idea of Dean wearing one of those is incredibly unlikely... and yet, somehow, endearing.

He would never do it if he wasn't ready to be given Hell about it... or perhaps he's just defensive of that tradition? He never mentioned a particular fondness for that clothing piece, but it wouldn't be the first thing he missed about the first human he saved from Hell. Just as he's starting to think about how things changed more in the last twelve years than since the dawn of creation, Jack's voice tears him away from his thoughts.

“Then it will be up to us to put in a good mood. You think Sam would like a sweater with a tree? He's very tall, it might be a good match.”

With another pained sigh, Castiel nods and understands that he will have to keep a closer look on Jack, and learn how to deal with an overly Christmas-enthusiast child. New world, new challenges.

“You know, it might be a good idea to tone it down. We don’t...”

“Cas, look at those!”

The thrilled shout of Jack in seeing the sweaters with little lights in them almost makes Cas feeling nostalgic of the Apocalypse. At least he knew where the danger came from, how to deal with it, and the rules to engage. A shopping mall in the days before Christmas knows no rules, and that is somehow unnerving.

“Sammy! Get your ass over here!” Dean shouts, prompting Sam to pop his head through the door frame.

“What?”

All Sam sees is Dean's legs, the lower part of his torso, and one of his hands, waving behind him, holding a small crystal glass. “... you think these are good for brandy?”

“... no, those are to taste whiskey.”

Dean pulls his head out from the depths of the cupboard, looking at Sam with a skeptical expression. “Bullshit. What... how can you tell?”

“You asked me, why you... look. They're small, you see? For a smaller quantity, and also, less space on the base to... you know what? Never mind”, he lets go, already recognizing the question rising in Dean's eyes.

“When did you learn about this stuff?”

“I don't remember, but I thought it could be useful. It happened that we had to go undercover at parties and stuff, and a server who knows the glasses is far more believable”.

“... you are just so damn smart. Any luck with the camera?” Dean has a sort of proud smile dancing on his lips, even if he tries to sound as snarky as possible.

“I was just checking it. The lenses are a bit dusted, but I can clean them. Everything else... seems ok. Whatever spells Magnus placed on this place... they kept things working perfectly, no exceptions.”

“Yeah, well... I ain't thanking the son of a bitch.”

Sam scoffs, thinking about their far too close call with the master of spells. Another experience he's very happy to archive under the “never again” file. Dean is sticking his head inside the cabinet, ignoring the sinister creak of the little stool under his feet. Sam picks it up almost immediately.

“Dean...”

Sam is cut short by the act of catching a glass from Dean's hands. If he's aware to have interrupted, he doesn't show it. “Eight glasses are enough?”

“Eight? Why? It's the two of us, Cas, Y/N and Eileen.”

“You want to leave Jack out?” the way Dean's voice echoes inside the cabinet almost makes Sam laugh, but he needs to stay serious.

“Of course I want to leave him out. He's three, Dean!”

Dean hands Sam a few more glasses, before coming out from the cupboard and down the stool holding a couple more. He then gives Sam a sassy look.

“He's also the most powerful being in the universe. He slayed two archangels, countless angels, and rendered powerless God itself. I doubt a glass of cognac is going to do him any harm.”

“Perhaps you have a point. Anyway, why eight? Even counting Jack, it's just six of us.”

“Nah. With Y/N around, Crowley is going to be here.”

“... you think?”

“I know. Watch it happen.” Dean nods resolutely, ignoring the bemused expression of Sam before going on. “They've been together, you know that, right?”

Sam's jaw drops and he almost drops the glasses, making Dean laugh. Judging by the expression on his face, with raised eyebrows and open mouth, he didn't know.

“What?”

“Yep. It was... while Lucifer was loose, a bit after the Vince Vincente's thing. They were hunting together, apparently, and got drunk enough to finally put up with their awkward thing.”

“That's... that's new.”

“Well, no, not exactly. Anyway, I'm willing to bet twenty bucks that we won't get Crowley out of our hair until after Christmas.”

“I'm sure that she knows better. I see your twenty.”

“Thirty if they make out or have sex.”

Sam laughs, already feeling thirty dollars in his pockets. Plus, Dean has no idea of the bets placed on him by Sam, Eileen and you.

“I see your thirty.”

A very exhausted Castiel and a thrilled Jack walk through the door of the bunker with several bags of stuff. They've bought the Christmas sweaters, a few baubles for the tree that is somehow still missing, an unholy and definitely unhealthy amount of Christmas cookies, and anything else that somehow managed to inspire a vague Christmas feeling in Jack.

Dean takes the bags from Castiel's hands, smiling at him with a tender expression.

“You look exhausted.”

“I feel exhausted. Redoing Heaven was draining, but at least there were no teenagers around.”

Dean laughs and pats Castiel's shoulder, trying to offer him some comfort. The angel studies him, fascinated by the way Dean's lips curve upward in a smile and listening to him.

“Well, at least Jack is... well, I don't know what he is, but I don't think he'll ever go through that. Come on, let's go see what you've bought.”

“Oh, God...” Cas groans, anticipating the protests from both Sam and Dean.

Instead, not one of the brothers seems annoyed by the obnoxiously bright choices of Jack. Whatever changed in them, Cas wishes it stays like this. He's absolutely baffled when Dean picks up the sweater with Rudolph the reindeer - an America's favourite, apparently - and turns it so that Sam can see it with a delighted expression.

“Look at this, Sammy! Oh, God, I must have this.”

Jack turns to Cas with the most smug expression he's ever sported. “I told you he'd like it! Sam, check yours out!”

About ten minutes later, when everyone has put on his Christmas sweater, they all meet in the war room, wearing them under their fed suits. Dean chuckles and walks over to Castiel, fixing his tie, ignoring the bright red sweater he’s wearing underneath the dress coat.

“Lookin’ good, man.”

“I thought we decided to look like the Men of Letters.”

“We don't need to look like them, Cas. We are Men of Letters. We indulge Sammy here, but we do things our own way. Here, you look... great.”

Sam and Jack exchange an amused look, while Castiel and Dean share one of their long, dramatically and ridiculously intense gazes. Sam clears his throat and calls for their attention.

“Dean, why don't you call Y/N to see where she is?”

Grumbling and tearing his stare away from Castiel's eyes, Dean nods. He's still surprised about the way everything changed. He could swear to know Cas in every single way, and yet he feels like he's discovering a completely new person. Not being at war is strange. Pleasant.

He's still trying to adjust to that. He never felt authorized to have anything like that. He tried to bury every memory of the few months during which he allowed himself to believe that something other from hunting was possible.

Freedom might also mean a chance to explore all that he ever denied to himself. Leaving behind the past, the expectations he so tirelessly tried to satisfy might be the hardest thing he's ever done... but Castiel challenged Heaven's orders after obeying for millions of years. In a heartbeat, one of the most fearsome warriors of God decided to disobey his very nature, and fight alongside humanity. Once again, Castiel is giving him courage and purpose, and he doesn't even know it.

Dean smiles and fishes his phone from his pocket, dialling your number.

When he goes back to the war room after the call, he stops for a second, taking in the sight of the room. Sam is teaching Jack how to keep the glass in his hand, while Castiel is curiously studying the cigars he bought, making the puzzled expression he usually exhibits when fiddling around mundane stuff. When Jack puts on his Santa's hat, Dean laughs and steps closer to the group.

“Alright guys, she's not picking up. I guess she'll be here shortly. How about Eileen?”

“She's on her way. I guess she'll be here in a couple of hours.” Sam answers with a smile. He always smiles, more or less unconsciously, while speaking of Eileen. Dean grins, decided not to waste a chance to tease his little brother.

“... well, I'd keep that sweater to welcome her here, if I were you. Green suits you!”

“Get bent, Dean.”

“Language!” Cas intervenes, hinting at Jack.

“Oh, I've heard much worse from Dean, Cas. Like that time he spilled coffee on his pc and it froze on the Bust...”

Before he can finish, Dean shouts at him. “Jack! That wasn't supposed to come out!” Dean panics and opts for a quick retreat to the kitchen, deciding to find comfort in some leftover pie while waiting for you and Eileen to finally join them for dinner.

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Thank you for reading!

I truly hope you enjoyed this little story. Every kind of feedback is very much appreciated, just as much as likes and reblogs!

Please, do not repost my works or part/s of it on different places, not even if you give credits.

#spn #spnfic #spnchristmasbingo #sam winchester #dean winchester #castiel #jack kline #christmas photoshoot #fluff #feels #canon divergent #reblog

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