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Destiel Fanfic - Blog Posts
Bobby in every damn fanfic: are you sure you're not gay, Dean? Casexual, perhaps?
He always knows... he always supports his bisexual repressed son.
The Unwavering Heart of a Winchester by violue
Mellow is the Man by marquiavelli
Your average Destiel fic
Casanova (Fucked Me Over) - by HTH
how we're stuck in entropy by shineforthee
A Different Kind of Monster by roadtonowhere (lastoryx), xfancyfranart
Having Cas punch John Winchester in the face is very satisfying, which you can read in the amazing fics below:
🔸psalm 40:2 by unicornpoe
🔹a turn of the earth by microcomets
But you know what is even MORE satisfying? Having Dean punch John Winchester in the face. Now that, is incredible:
🔸oh sooner or later it all comes down to faith by sobsicles
🔹Our Old Heroes by AdelaClancy
Strandlines by aeli_kindara
My progress on the fics I need to read but I keep postponing because I am scared of being hurt:
✅ Ninety one whiskey by komodobits
❌ Into the fire by NorthernSparrow
❌ Three princes by someonetoanyone
❌ Hautley's Bend by ColdIntheStudio
You Belong Among The Wildflowers by ImYourHoneyBee
nov 5 is anniversary dinner at the winchester household but it's like..no one talks about it. everyone gets together but they pretend like it's because it's just. you know. a regular coincidence! we're just hanging out! we didn't even look at the calendar! they're all laughing too loud and forcing jokes and being overly casual about it.
dean gets real quiet when there's a break in conversation or when he's alone. cas gets this look in his eyes like he's not where he is. if they can't bear to be separated on the day, well. no one has to know. or even if they do, no one mentions it. so they eat one handed and they hold hands under the table until their knuckles are turning white and they're just standing pressed together when they're supposed to be doing the dishes and they DON'T talk because they still can't figure out how to sometimes and today is definitely the day that is sometimes. and if they get hugged extra tight when everyone leaves, well. they don't mention it. they're grateful but they don't talk about it.
the first year, it's almost a wake in the house. well, there was no house then, but there was the bunker, and it was home. but yes. it was almost a wake, disguised as a celebration. they'd all crowded around the map table, sitting in chairs and on the surface and trading stupid stories and playing boardgames and throwing scrabble tiles at each other because that's not a fucking word, dean and then even when they'd tired of the act, they just sort of sat together and drank and said nothing like it was agreed upon beforehand that they weren't gonna let dean and cas be alone and dean had been so grateful he didn't know what to do with it. it was like this grief wasn't supposed to be there, you know? but it was. it was. and there was no ignoring it. but you couldn't let it drown you so you did what you could.
the year after that is more of the same, though the house had emptied before midnight . and yes there was a house by then. and a porch swing and deck chairs and kitchen windows and her gardens and retirement, even though dean didn't think he'd ever get used to the taste of that word in his mouth. dean woke up that year with a pit in his stomach and he'd panicked because cas wasn't there, cas wasn't touching him, cas was gone , gone, gone, but then he'd blinked his eyes open to see that cas had just curled away from him in the night, was still here, sleeping, soft and open mouthed, and dean could touch him without straightening the bend in his elbow and he did and he tugged until they were pressed together again and he'd closed his eyes and sighed. cas went somewhere far away during the day, and dean thought he was going to suffocate in the house because he didn't know how to bring him back, to make him aware of the ground under his feet. but then his family was there, filing into the house somewhere around noon, in groups of twos and threes. they brought food and wine and movies and they pulled at the arms of the men who'd turned hollow-eyed until something like light slipped back into them.
it's the third year now, and the dishes are drying on the rack and the house is emptied of its guests and the quiet is just a little bit more bearable than it was the year before but somehow that feels like enough, because dean's not drowning and neither is cas, even if the water pulls at their legs, and that's a damn win in his book. dean checks the locks on the doors and the windows of his house and brings cas an afghan, drapes it over his shoulders, pulls him close until he's lying back against dean's chest on the couch. and they turn on the tv and it's the kind of shitty programming that comes on when it's after halloween and not yet christmas and it's pushing 2 am on the oven clock, but it's good white noise, and sometimes cas laughs and dean feels it against his chest, in his bones, and he thinks that's all it's about anyway. that laugh's kind of the point of everything. so he sighs and hooks his shoulder on Cas' chin and doesn't say how scared he is, sometimes, even now, or how he doesn't want to close his eyes tonight, because he's not sure what he'll wake up to tomorrow and doesn't say that there's something stinging the back of his eye even if there's no reason for it. instead he just slips his fingers through Cas' and buries his nose in cas ' hair and breathes. and well, isn't that a miracle.
On Air
On Air by wincechesters Rating: Explicit Word count: 21k
Cas and Dean are radio DJs who host the second most popular morning show in Lawrence. They’ve been co-hosts for years at different stations across the country, and they own a house together out of necessity, even though they’re just friends. But for some reason, a lot of their listeners and even some of their friends and family seem to think that they’re secretly in some kind of relationship, which they’re totally not (besides that one time that totally doesn’t count). In spite of that, Dean thinks he’s got everything figured out, until an ill-fated on air game of Truth or Dare turns everything upside down (and the billboards around town aren’t helping either).
There are plenty of fics out there where Dean is the one dating someone and Cas is the forever single one, who gets to pine and be jealous throughout the fic before Dean realizes who he really wants.
So when I saw that in this fic it happens the opposite, I was immediately on board. Not only I have a soft spot for jealous!Dean, but it’s also refreshing to have the tables turned on them.
What begins as a harmless truth or dare game, quickly turns into Dean being confronted and ultimately realizing his feelings for his best friend. Dean has been in love with Cas for years, but not counting with “one stupid mistake” when they slept together while drunk some years ago, Cas has never showed any interest in Dean besides being best friends. To make matters worse, Cas has been dating a wonderful girl for a couple of months now. So Dean can do nothing but try to squash his feelings, all the while pining and being his grumpy self.
Fear not, though, because Cas’ relationship with Daphne happens all behind the scenes. And even though it takes a third party for our boys to get their heads out of their asses, it all comes together in the end and the reality is that both of them have loved each other for years.
I should've saved the fics I like while scrolling and now that I'm in section 90 I figured out I can start now and visit the section 1-89 later.
Babysitter - where Cas and Dean got hit by a de-aging spell and Sam is stuck with 3 year old big brother and angel of the Lord.
Dragon in the cup - obviously. Cas is the Dragon. Like Haku from spirited away but enough to fit in a mug. And cuter.
Only children and fools tell the truth - Dean in pacifier. I died.
Across the Devide - Cas forgets everything and the only lead he has is a bright green eyes.
F.U Flowers - Destiel AU where Cas is mad to his coworker and asked the flower shop owner for help.
Little big brother - Dean is a 5 years old who needs to take care of Sam.
Summoning a Deanmon - Cas is being bullied and decided to make a deal with a Demon in flannel shirt.
Three and a half foot angel or not - Cas got cursed with deaging spell. But He is still an angel of the Lord and a soldier.
I've fallen in love many times - Where Cas tells Dean about the love of his life and Dean gets jealous.
I was never gone - Soulmate AU where Cas and Dean don't know they are soulmates but their friends do.
(Don't) fear the reaper - Castiel is an odd reaper and Dean is...Dean.
Part 1 / ?
This is random, the only thing common about these is they're not that long. 1k - 5k mostly. The reaper, if I remember correctly, has 50k? 9 parts. I think same with Across the Devide. But these are all great. I saved them thinking I want to read them again. Most of them are fluff. (But I do read smut and I'll try to include those next time.)
in honor of the two year anniversary of 15x18, here’s a fix it
it was good, it was bad, but it was real 11k rated T the empty tortures cas with visions of dean rescuing him, so that when dean finally does, cas doesn’t believe it’s real
Relationship: Dean Winchester/Castiel
Summary: Cas and Dean finally meet again in heaven after the confession.
Tags: angst with happy ending
Dean couldn't stay still.
After rearranging Bobby's entire house (Bobby was not happy), Dean had cleaned the whole gun collection (twice), the attic, and then resealed the drafty windows. That was done pretty quickly so he also cleaned the yard, refitted the back door, and even fixed the creaky porch - why the hell did that thing still creak in Heaven anyway?!
But it wasn't enough.
There was still an itch below his skin, a restlessness he couldn't kill. So he was now elbows deep in a Pontiac Firebird, trying to fix a problem that Bobby claims doesn't exist - but Dean knows there's a squeaky noise coming from somewhere and he's gonna find it. He rubs his arm against his sweaty forehead, unwittingly smudging it with a streak of oil. He's so focused that he doesn't notice the presence behind him until Castiel speaks.
"Hello, Dean."
Dean startles and nearly hits his head on the hood of the car. He turns around quickly, green eyes clashing against blue.
He hasn't heard that rumbling voice since that day in the bunker, and he hasn't seen those eyes staring at him since they were being devoured by the black tendrils of The Empty. The sight momentarily brings flashbacks that Dean would rather forget - of words that whispered a goodbye, of a fantasy that was far too real, and of the cold despair after being left alone in an empty room, staring at the spot where his everything had once stood.
"Cas," he tries, but his voice falters.
Cas smiles, though his expression seems somewhat sad. They stare at each other for what seems like an eternity, lost in each other. Then, the moment cracks. Dean frowns and turns away, back to the car. There's something dark and bitter lodged in his chest, it tastes of bile and it spills into his words.
"Good of you to finally show up."
If Cas is bothered by the harshness in his tone, he doesn't show it. Instead, he chooses to remain silent, but does come closer, peering over Dean's shoulder to observe what he's doing. For some reason, it strikes another nerve and Dean huffs, throwing the wrench he was holding on the floor and turning back fully to meet the angel.
"Look, I don't know why the hell you think you can show up here like this after avoiding me for months."
Cas moves away, allowing Dean space now that he's facing him again, especially since he looks like a mountain lion ready to pounce. It pisses Dean off even more, but he stubbornly keeps his glare and folds his arms - demanding something, or maybe anything.
Cas opens his mouth to speak and Dean waits, and waits, and waits but nothing comes out. Chapped lips close once again, like a tomb being sealed back up. The angel avoids his gaze, staring at the floor. Dean's jaw ticks, tightens, then explodes:
"You know what? I'm fucking done. Months, Cas! Months!"
Fuck, he hates the way his voice sounds.
He knows he's at the edge of holding it together, like a dam ready to overflow. He closes his eyes and forces himself to calm down, breathing in and out. His hand comes up to run against his head, streaking dark black oil into the short hair and messing it up. It feels like Chuck still has him dancing in his palm, and that Billie is still there, waiting outside the door. It feels like the Empty never let go of Cas, never returned him. And Dean is still on that floor, head in his hands, phone ringing into the silence. Yet here is Castiel, angel of the Lord, standing in front of him, safe and sound.
"Why are you even here? Why now?"
"I miss you."
The words crash into Dean like a truck doing 90 on the highway, punching all the air out of him. His lungs burn with the weight but he can feel part of that anger dislodging and falling away. His ribcage is cracked by the claws of hurt, his eyes flooded by resent, but his heart - the traitor - sings a choir of pointless, stupid, hope.
He throws his head up, staring at the sky and trying to keep it all in. Finally, he surrenders to that tug of hope, feeling like a rabbit caught by a fox but still praying to be spared. He's madness shaped haphazardly into the shell of a man.
"Well... I was here." His voice cracks, following the betrayal of his heart. "Where the hell were you, Cas?"
"I..."
The angel seems just as lost on what to say, what to feel.
"I thought it would be best to give you some time, and space."
Dean swallows the rock in his throat that's keeping him from breathing. They stay like that for a beat, and then another, and then another. It seems like centuries before Dean finally gains the courage to look back down.
"You know... I... I dreamed about how you would tell me."
Cas frowns, not yet picking up on Dean's meaning. Dean continues.
"Sometimes it looked like you were about to say it... like that one time when we were at the diner after the twin witches case. We were laughing about something stupid - I don't even remember what anymore. And all of the sudden you looked at me like I hung the moon. I... I thought you were gonna say it then. I was so freaking scared."
Castiel's eyes widen slightly. Great, the poor bastard is finally catching on. Still, Dean presses on.
"Or that one time in the library, when you caught me reading Jane Austen and I kept sayin it was for a case... but hell, you knew the truth... and you just played along and smiled at me like it was ok. You looked like you were about to say it then too."
"Dean..."
"Then there was that one time in the kitchen... I was making burgers and asked you to help me but you kept messing up. I have no idea how someone who can master an angel blade like you do, can suck so hard at cutting tomatoes. But when I was complaining and teaching you how to do it you just looked at me with these big freaking eyes..."
Castiel's breath falters, even though he doesn't need to breathe. It's enough to make Dean brave, it's enough to make him step closer. Cas tilts his head, eyes rimmed red and seemingly about to burst.
"You knew?" Cas gapes, shocked, eyes big and round. He looks hurt, confused.
"I think... part of me always knew. And it freaking terrified me, Cas."
"I'm sorr-"
Dean doesn't let him finish, instead just grabs his lapels and pulls him in. If Cas doesn't get it yet, Dean will just have to show him.
The clash of their lips is like stars colliding - explosive, colossal, namelessly bigger than Dean can ever define.
But if Cas is Icarus, Dean is the Sun - and every star devours itself until there's nothing left. Cas had pried him open, ruthlessly, mercilessly, with three little words. And then? Then he had left. He'd left Dean behind just like everyone always did.
'Don't do this, Cas.'
The words echo in his mind now, even as he loses himself in the feeling of Cas, so close, so perfect, finally here - his - even if just for a breath, before Dean's alone again. For once, Dean doesn't care if he will be broken forever, beyond repair, or if he will eat himself alive until there's nothing left... not if it means living this moment of truth, of freedom, of love.
Dean knows he should pull away. He can feel the wetness trailing down his cheeks, the despair in his hands, the eagerness in the pathetic sounds escaping his mouth. He should let go, but doesn't know if he will ever have the strength.
But then something magical happens:
Cas starts to kiss back. Slow, tentative at first, but then with a kindness that picks Dean apart and glues him back together, and a gentleness that swallows worlds. Suddenly the destructiveness, the bottomless hunger, the fear - they all melt away into nothing. The planets align and the universe sings a harmony of
'yes',
of 'right',
of 'meaning'.
Maybe it was always supposed to be like this - maybe part of Dean had to die for a galaxy to be born. Maybe the part of him that was so afraid of getting hurt had to be murdered so he could receive the sacrament of Castiel's lips on his, so he could feel the angel's hands like salvation on his skin, so he could fall with the surety that he would be caught. It all becomes too much - too big - and Dean hides his face in the crook of Castiel's neck, his hands fisted on the crinkles of the trenchcoat.
Something had irrevocably changed, and could never be put back.
"Dean... I'm sorry."
Cas says, astounded, finally getting it. For someone who always read Dean like a book, who always saw right through him, it had taken him a while to understand that the very thing he wanted, he could have always had - if only he had asked. If only he stayed. If only he was Dean's.
"I didn't realize."
"S'okay..." Dean mutters, the sound wet and breathless. His fists unwind, and he lets his hands travel across the expanse of Castiel, all around until they're pressing against the angel's back, and then pulling, hugging Cas close. "Just... don't ever do that again. I need you."
Don't leave.
Don't leave me.
"I won't. I promise."
Cas whispers, treading his fingers across Dean's hair. A tingle of grace hums and the oil and sweat and grime disappear, almost like they were never there. Gently, he kisses Dean's temple - it's a shrine worthy of worship. Cas confesses once again, but now enlightened:
"I love you."
Dean holds on tighter, arms trembling.
He doesn't say anything back, so Cas pulls his chin back up, kissing the words against his lips again and again and again until Dean starts to believe them.
When Dean finally whispers it back, the look on Cas' face irradiates a warmth he never thought could exist. It pads the hole inside him with something soft, and sweet, that promises to grow. Cas kisses his knuckles, reverent and slow and then smiles, wide and brighter than any single point in time before.
Just like that, Dean is sure:
He'll never have to say goodbye again.
Start of Chapter 8, “Sins of the flesh”
Link to Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/1359337904-sins-of-the-flesh-chapter-8-raised-once-more Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/38974686/chapters/121978735 ----
Tension hung heavy in the air as Dean and Sam ate their breakfast of homemade pancakes and breakfast sausage; vegan breakfast sausage, in Sam’s case. Although Castiel found no reason to eat anymore as he didn’t have to pretend to be able to taste it, he still insisted on sitting with them.
Dean chewed slowly and methodically, eliciting high levels of nervosity in both the angel and his brother who sat nearby. Their forks and knives clinked against their plates, the light tapping and scratching sounding all too loud in a space that had once been constantly filled with noise when the three of them were together.
“So, erm… I’ve found a case for you two,” Sammy told them cautiously as he pulled a file off his lap and sat it down on the breakfast table, breaking the extremely awkward silence.
“For ‘us two’? What, you’re not coming on the first hunt we’ve had since Cas got back?” Dean asked, lowering his fork and knife to rest on his plate. “No, I need a break the hunts,” Sam told his brother truthfully as he took a breath followed by a bite of his pancakes.
“Have there been any reports on this case?” Castiel questioned as he put down the day’s newspaper dated December 17th, 2008. He took the file and opened it, watching uninterestedly as a map and a few pages slipped out of it.
“Yeah; a handful of people have gone missing in Virginia, in the Shenandoah national park,” Sam told them, watching as Castiel placed five pages in a line, each a different missing person’s report.
“Isabella Morake, Catherine Hilltower, Elizabeth Chinadora, Maxwell Carlem and Stephen Mystarn had all gone missing within two months of each other around the same area; each had been travelling in a group of two to three people when their teammates called the police to report that they had heard screams from the woods. There was blood splattered on the ground and on trees near where they had heard the yelling coming from,” Sam explained moving his hands in explicative motions as he spoke.
“Each scene had claw marks in the dirt, leading any police on the investigations to assume that they were bear attacks and the victims must have upset the bear or bears in some way.” The younger Winchester finished, waiting for Castiel to stop reading the file and reports.
“Five bear attacks in the same area at the beginning of winter? That’s ridiculous,” Dean muttered as he picked his fork and knife back up and stuffed a sausage in his face, chewing slowly to avoid having to speak again.
“Exactly why I think it’s something else; a wendigo, maybe? It matches up; seasons might be a little weird, but it’s possible it’s just stocking up on a bit more food before winter comes,” Sam suggested as he gently pushed his plate away, no longer feeling hungry enough to continue eating.
Start of Chapter seven, “Sins of the flesh”
Link to Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/1298315374-sins-of-the-flesh-chapter-7-cherry-pie
Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/38974686/chapters/110146278
----
Dean stood at the top of the church on October 26th, 2008, getting prepared for the day’s sermon as usual; he had been on edge for days, trying everything in his might not to call Castiel to make sure that he was okay.
Castiel was an angel, after all; a tricking, pie-stealing, trust-breaking, barbarous hedge-born joitheaded liar of an angel, that is, and Dean was sure he would be just fine without him or Sam nearby to help him. Flipping through his bible to some of the tabs he had out in his bible to be able to find what he wanted to say, Dean heard the front door of the church push open.
Listening closely, the eldest Winchester quickly realized that it was just his brother who had decided to show up a tad early for the sermon. Dean listened as his brother’s footsteps came closer and closer to him, stopping right beside him just as he found the page in his bible that he was searching for.
“What’s up, Sammy?” The priest asked, tilting his head slightly in his brother’s direction. “Cas asked if he could come to see your sermon, since he’s, uh, picking up his books later on,” Sam informed him, though it seemed by Sam’s hesitant that he already knew what the answer to that question was going to be.
“Tell Mr.Novak that there are other churches across town that he may enjoy more,” Dean hummed with a sarcastic smile, still feeling rather upset by the whole ordeal. “Dean, you can’t keep running from-” “Castiel can fuck off, okay, Sam?” Dean snapped, frowning as he pretended to flip pages in his bible again. “Now if you would excuse me, I have things to do, Sammy,”
Dean felt a little bad as Sam sighed and turned away, disappointment radiating over him as he dragged his feet and retreated back to the house. The man could hear the back door slam as he turned another page of his bible, and he tried to remind himself that Sammy was upset with him too and needed a way to express that without too many repercussions. Despite the guilt hanging over him, Dean quickly got the rest of his planning done and stood beside the door to begin greeting guests as they flooded in.
Most were old voices, people who has helped raise Dean and Sam and aid their father in learning how to raise two children on his own, people who had brought the young boys meals when they realized their father left them home alone, just in case they hadn’t eaten in a few days.
Despite this, there were one or two new voices who dropped by to check things out, one has just moved to the area and the other just trying to figure out their religion or what they did and did not believe in. In both cases, Dean welcomed them with open arms and greeted the rest of the usuals before making his way back up to the front to begin the sermon...
Start of Chapter six, Sins of the Flesh
Start of chapter four, Sins of the flesh.
Link to Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/1281199235-sins-of-the-flesh-chapter-6-castiel-angel-of-the Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/38974686/chapters/107196657
---- A few calm weeks went by as the temperatures dropped, whatever green was left on the trees shifting to bright fiery colours as they approached the end of October. Winds began to pick up and frost collected on the grass in the early mornings, days shortening as the sun began to lower in the sky earlier and earlier in the evenings. On October 23rd, Dean found himself hunched over a bible, trying to memorize a script for the Sunday sermon, one which his father had always taken very seriously because of the approach of Halloween. John had always been unnecessarily strict about the fact that Halloween was the devil’s work, that ghouls and demons would be invited into your home if you celebrated it. He wasn’t completely incorrect as both a priest and a hunter; many idiots tended to summon things nearing Halloween as a sort of daring and spooky activity, although the celebration itself had no attachment to any sort of gateways, as his father so-called them. Nonetheless, the priest still found himself in the dark of his kitchen, fingers gliding over the same imprints in the paper over and over in a desperate attempt to memorize them all by the 26th. He had, of course, memorized hundreds of passages in the past few years he had been carrying on the family business, but Dean preferred to preach new lectures and teach new things each year instead of simply repeating what he had already said; although there had been a few times he found himself repeating himself when he wasn’t able to think of anything new for that week. Dean barely noticed the passing of time as he worked for hours on his memorization, his mind began to wander as he remembered the happenings only just under four weeks prior; he had heard from Sam that the matricide had continued, and in some sick way, Dean felt guilty for leaving so many people to die. Plagued with guilt and the need to make his father proud, Dean carried on with his memorization and only stopped when Castiel entered the room and lay a gentle hand on his left shoulder. The priest flinched, startled out of his concentration at the sudden touch; he hadn’t even heard Castiel’s footsteps. “Jesus, Cas! Warn a guy before you touch him,” Dean grumbled as he fixed his terrible posture, raising his arms above his head as he stretched. “I apologize, Dean, usually I don’t have to,” Castiel apologized softly as he placed a mug on the table in front of Dean, the thick glass clunking against the table as it was set down. Dean picked up the mug and took a careful sniff of it before taking a sip, his brow creasing in confusion as he recognized the bitter taste of coffee on his tongue. “Why are you giving me coffee so late?” The priest questioned as he set the mug back down, careful not to spill any on his bible. “Late? No, Dean, it’s early. It’s five am,” Castiel informed as he sat down beside his friend at the table and sipped at his own coffee, made with cream and sugar.
Start of chapter five, Sins of the flesh
Link to Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/1274665060-sins-of-the-flesh-chapter-5-50s-throwback
Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/38974686/chapters/105834339
----
“Good morning, father Winchester, how was your hiatus?” A young mother asked as Dean welcomed her into the church, her little daughter perched carefully on her hip.
“My hiatus?” Dean questioned, though tried to make it too obvious that he hadn’t any idea what she was talking about.
“Why, yes; your four-month hiatus, to strengthen your relationship with god. How was it?” She questioned once more, a hint of impatience creeping into her voice. “Oh; yes, it was wonderful, thank you,” Dean hummed, doing his absolute best to smile as he continued to greet the guests into the church.
Dean eventually carried on the service, as usual, standing in front of everyone; however, about three minutes into the service he began to struggle slightly. The braille pages beneath his fingers felt foreign after all this time, the words seemed almost caught in his throat but Dean had to push through it, the quiet shuffles and coughs of people in the building overwhelming him slightly.
Near the end of service, the man almost had to have Sam take over, but he was too stubborn to allow it and ushed on; it was a relief when it was finally over, Dean’s energy mostly depleted by the time lunch was served.
“So get this,” Sam announced as he sat down at the table for lunch after Sunday service, the newspaper resting in his lap as he ate. “Apparently, there’s a town in the next state that’s had an unusually high amount of mariticide; nearly a dozen wives in the past two months murdering their husbands, all from the same town,” Sam told them, though Dean was slightly distracted by the sheer amount of noise that the many guests were making.
The many chattering guests mixed with the sounds of his two associates chewing their food, along with whatever other bothers were coming from the forest, the eldest Winchester couldn’t help but be reminded of his time in hell. “That is very odd… do you think it may be worth travelling for?” Castiel asked as he took a bite of his burger, a bit of ketchup falling onto his plate.
Dean shrugged, stuffing a bite of food into his mouth like he hadn’t eaten in days. “I think it’d be worth looking around, I'm in need of a good fight,” The priest joked, straightening his posture and whipping his face with a napkin as he heard someone approaching. The person veered away, though, walking off towards some other table away from the priest, his brother and best friend.
“Alright, we’ll leave right after lunch clean-up, then,” Sam settled as the three finished their meals. Dean continued to struggle throughout the cleaning process, his ears beginning to ring and his blood pumping in his ears as he fought off what could only be called a panic attack, caused by overstimulation.
Start of chapter four, Sins of the flesh.
Link to Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/1263570085-sins-of-the-flesh-chapter-4-raised-from-perdition Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/38974686/chapters/103642149#workskin -CAUTION: This one may include trigger warnings for those who are sensitive to descriptions of hell and very mild gore. You have been warned- ---- Hell was a horrible place; it was filled with the vilest of human beings, demons and creations you could ever imagine. People who had sold their souls were hung on hooks like meat hung in racks; in hell, a human and a cow were no different. The stink of sulphur, blood, smoke and flesh was constant, but if you were there you would find that the rotten scent was nothing compared to being whipped; to having your flesh torn and ripped repeatedly as blood and sweat rolled down your back. It was always ablaze, fiery hot and bright; never for a second was hell silent, but you would get used to the splitting headaches and the lack of sleep eventually.
Screams of pain and gurgles of pure agony surrounded Dean in hell; pain radiated throughout the man’s body and he didn’t have his blindfold over his eyes to allow him to feign ignorance to the many bloodied and beaten people surrounding him. The man didn’t remember how long he had been in hell, the pain too much for him to think about anything else; he hung on hooks, screamed and bled until he couldn’t take it anymore. He fought as hard as he could, avoided becoming a torturer at all costs and tried to remember what earth was like and who he was.
He was a priest, yet he was in hell; he struggled for forty long years until a saving grace came upon him. Hell lit up with a yellowish-white glow bright enough to blind you with a single glance, demons perished all around and Dean was raised from hell once again as a hand burned his left shoulder.
~♰~♰~♰~
Dean gasped as his eyes flew open, arms flailing and hands desperately grasping at something to hold on to; the first thing he registered was the feeling of cold stone beneath him, as well as beneath his palms when finally he had a grip on something.
Looking up, he saw towering ceilings and archways stretching high above his head; the many depictions of angels painted skywards were new to him, he had never even known that they were there. His left shoulder ached, and he came to realize his left hand lay on a very familiar statue; dozens of rosaries hung around her neck, swaying just slightly in a breeze that carried itself through the open door at the very back of the church. Dean sat up, breathing in the still-stale air; he could smell rain on the breeze and yet the church’s oxygen remained dusty and scented like history, it seemed no one had cleaned it properly in a while. The man only barely registered the pounding in his head as he looked around at the pews and the windows of his church, still a little disorientated by the sudden drag up from hell. Finally understanding that he was safe, Dean hauled himself up onto shaking legs and got a more thorough look at his surroundings...
Start of chapter three, Sins of the flesh.
Link to Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/1249130358-sins-of-the-flesh-chapter-3-a-brother%27s-love Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/38974686/chapters/101269308#workskin --- Dean struggled to keep his eyes open despite the coffee he was sipping on, his head leaning against the window of the impala; usually driving was one of his saving grace’s from the blindfold since the car had been a gift from his father to him, but today was an exception due to his tiredness. Dean listened to the hum of the engine and relaxed in the way the car drove over the road as Sam drove, the radio turned off to pull them both into a comfortable silence.
Neither had questioned the fact that Dean had been on the floor that morning when Sam went to check up on him since he wasn’t up yet; Dean hadn’t said a word as he was roused awake by his little brother, the memories of the night before vague within his mind.
As Baby drove steadily down the highway, her tires gripping the pavement and the leather seat pressed against Dean’s back, Dean found his thoughts drifting back to the mysterious Castiel. His dream from the previous night was still bothering him immensely; he knew his father was not always the most honest of men, and he had experienced nightmares that involved him before, but nothing like this.
Ever since he started praying to the angel, he would get flashes of gold and black in the middle of the dream and be woken up, but never had he had a conversation with them.
He didn’t want to dwell, but something was telling him to dig for more answers; perhaps he would call or visit Bobby soon to see if he knew anything. Dean took another sip of his coffee and grimaced only slightly when he realized that it had gone cold; he placed it down in the cup holder and took in a breath of air, thankful that they were almost to the other town.
There was a sudden crunch under the tire of the impala and Sammy was slamming on the brakes while Dean grasped both the dash and the door with both hands. As the car came to a halt, Dean turned his head towards his brother, jaw still set from the fear. “What the fuck was that?” Dean asked his brother as Sam sighed, falling silent for only a moment before he spoke.
“I don’t know, but I think our tire popped because of it,” Sam murmured and opened his door, leading Dean to join him and walk around the car. Dean leaned against the car as Sam knelt to the ground and examined their car, a heavy groan coming from him as he seemed to shuffle his feet against the gravel for a moment. “What is it, Sammy?” Dean asked as he tilted his head in his brother’s direction, and the way his brother sighed came off eerily loud as the road and surrounding area seemed to be silenced now that they had stopped driving. “It’s a crow; I didn’t even see it on the road, why would it have been there in the first place?” Sammy wondered aloud, and Dean could tell that his smart-ass brother was probably looking at it with fascination like he always did when it came to something strange.
Start of chapter two, Sins of the flesh.
Link to Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/1233104183-sins-of-the-flesh-chapter-2-newcomer Link to ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/38974686/chapters/98769999#workskin --- Dean gasped awake, chest heaving as he drew in panicked breaths and gripped at the bedsheets, the adrenaline in his veins and anxiety slowly fading the longer he breathed in sweet, sweet oxygen.
The nightmares were horrible, always of the same grotesque beings, the demons, werewolves, wraiths and other monstrosities his father would fight off when he was a child.
The images and fights Dean himself had fought against them were always present in the back of his mind during his waking life, reminding him that he was living on borrowed time and that nothing was ever permanent; these thoughts only became more prominent when he was asleep as he did not have much control over what his own mind created. “Sonova bitch…” Dean muttered, letting out a relieved breath, relieved to have finally escaped the dream; he had been allowed to remove his blindfold when fighting these beings to ensure that he wouldn’t get too injured, but some days he wished he hadn’t seen anything.
Dean reached over to his bedside table for his braille watch, the cool metal and leather strap coming into contact with Dean’s hand as he did so. He had, of course, learnt to read braille at a young age simply to make his life easier due to the blindfold, and as a result, his father had bought him the watch on his thirteenth birthday, but Dean somewhat believed he only did that so he would stop asking what time it was every half hour.
To his dismay, it was only around three am, which aggravated Dean to no end; it was a Saturday, so he didn’t have to be up early and he had only gone to sleep three hours ago. Thoroughly disgruntled, Dean placed his watch back on his side table and yanked the sheets back up to his chin, rolling onto his side in an attempt to get comfortable. Despite his greatest efforts, the dream had shaken him too much for him to feel even a pang of sleepiness.
After nearly an hour of tossing and turning, Dean kicked his sheets off in frustration, slipped out of his bed and located his fluffy robe, tying the string around his abdomen as he walked. The house was mostly silent, nothing but the sound of the wind howling outside and the near-silent creaking of the old home; an eerie feeling hung in the air, the feeling of being careful watches unnerving Dean to the core, though he tried to ignore it as he made his way through the house.
The man allowed himself to simply wander through the house, not bothering much to do anything but trace his fingers over the walls and the picture frames hung up them; he had never seen what was in the picture frames, but he hoped one day he might. He remembered his father often having him and Sammy pose and stand for pictures, but Dean had never seen a single one of them; he wondered if somewhere in the house, there might be a photo of his mother... Continued on Wattpad and Ao3!
Start of chapter one, “Sins of the flesh.”
My chapters for “Sins of the flesh“ can be extremely long, so I will not be posting full chapters here on Tumblr; I will, however, post the first page of each chapter once they are updated or if I have already had them posted for a while, it depends. I will put the link to the fic at the top, and you can go read it if you enjoy it! Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/38974686/chapters/97482846#workskin Wattpad link: https://www.wattpad.com/1225227745-sins-of-the-flesh-chapter-1-in-the-beginning --Start of chapter one-- Dean huffed as he tilted his head to the side, trying to listen to where his four-year-old brother was scurrying off to hide, Sammy’s giggles fading away as he went. They were playing hide-and-seek, a game Dean had become quite skilled at despite his lack of vision. If he focussed on listening to where the sound of his little brother’s bare feet against the wooden floors was heading, he would find him quite easily as Sammy often giggled when he hid. A few times, John had gotten mad at him for losing Sammy after playing the game as Sam would occasionally fall asleep; Dean tried not to think about the bruises he would receive if he lost the game as he stood up after thirty seconds and began listening for his brother. He made his way through the living room slowly, letting his hands slowly glide over the walls and furniture as he walked to see if any of it was out of its usual place. He ensured that his footsteps were slow and deliberate, completely quiet; that’s another skill he had learned because of John, how to keep completely and utterly silent when you did not want to be found. Slowly he crept through the halls of this old house, a house he had not seen for more than a few minutes at a time in nearly four years; the only times the blindfold ever came off was when Dean was showering or in case of absolute emergencies, though he didn’t know why it was necessary.He heard a sudden creak from behind him, and Dean strained his ear towards the doorway he had just passed. He heard the fair sound of heavy breathing as he approached the room and assumed that it was just Sammy getting more and more anxious as Dean approached his hiding place.The boy shivered as a draft suddenly whispered over his skin, the room seemed colder than it should have been. He assumed that the window was open, and so moved to close it without much thought. He didn’t expect to be knocked to the floor and have claws dig into his arms. Dean let out a blood-curdling scream as he tried to get away, kicking and punching at the creatures that he could not see.Its claws were razor-sharp, its breath absolutely horrible as it snarled and tried to sink its teeth into this flesh, but thankfully Dean avoided that from happening with his adrenaline-induced strength. He fought and fought, tears streaming down his face and soaking through his blindfold as he begged whatever it was to let him go, to put him down and leave. “Dean!” Came his father’s voice as he heard his footsteps pounding down the hallway, the searing pain in Dean’s arms, and now chest as the creature’s claws left a bloody slash across his chest and dropped him. He heard two gunshots ring out, but not the sound of shattering glass; the window had been left open and something had gotten in....
“Sins of the flesh” Prologue!!
Hello everyone, I’ve been writing a new fic, so I figured I would post the prologue here in case anyone who views my blog would enjoy reading it! I hope you like the prologue, I’ll include the link to the fic here! Ao3 ink: https://archiveofourown.org/works/38974686/chapters/97482780 Wattpad link: https://www.wattpad.com/1222916487-sins-of-the-flesh-prologue --Prologue-- John Winchester was a righteous man; he was well-known throughout his community as an excellent priest and had seen most people every Sunday throughout their entire lives. He was known to be a very loving and selfless man, though many knew that dwindled slightly after the death of his wife. This is also the time he began hunting, leaving his young sons alone for days at a time and only returning for Sunday mass; no other adult knew of his hunting. No one knew what exactly had happened to the priest’s wife, the priest did not discuss it, but everyone knew that there must have been a truly horrifying sight involved; see, John kept his eldest son, Dean, blindfolded with a black satin cloth after the death of his mother. The boy never seemed overly bothered by it, although it was a little difficult to navigate through different places and do different tasks blindly at first. Since he was four, no one within the town had seen the boy without the blindfold on, and he was always wearing clothing that covered his entire body; his father did not take his sons out very often, and thus the only time the town people ever even saw them was at church. Most of the time, if you attempted to speak to Dean, he would not speak; his younger brother, Sam, however, would constantly go on delighting rants about whatever he was currently learning in school. What the people did not know is the purpose of the blindfold; unsurprisingly, neither did Dean, but he followed his father’s orders blindly as he was raised to. His father told him to put on the blindfold, he did. His father told him to stay quiet, he did. His father told him to hold out his arms so he could inflict bruises on them whenever he was out of order… he did. He saw his father as a hero, and it seemed no matter what the ma did to him, Dean always trusted his judgement. John knew the reason for the blindfold, though, and why only his oldest son needed it; it was to keep him holy, keep his soul pure, to stop him from falling into the sinful romance and lust with a man. You see after his wife had died, a being came to him and told him that the earth was a cruel and horrid place; it told him that if he was able to keep his oldest son pure, if he was able to keep him from falling in love with a man as he was fated to, then God would use him as vivisection for all his angels see so that they may aid him with creating more righteous beings for the earth. Delighted, John had not questioned the gold-eyed being, for he believed it was an angel, and thus did everything in his power to bend the fates of his son by engraving the belief that death would feel like waking up from a nightmare, that when he passed, Dean would be used as a model for all righteous beings to come if only he could keep away from lustful desires and the sin of a male lover. John Winchester was a fool; you cannot bend the fates, cannot change the course that life has given you to follow. The man who thinks himself God will undoubtedly be struck down, for he is an impersonator attempting to steal the power of another.
Not dead
HELLO TUMBLR I’VE RETURNED. Much has happened since my last post a while back, no I will not elaborate- All I will tell you is that this busy mf has been writing until his hands ache and I now have a ton of new fics written. Currently, I am working on Supernatural fics; Destiel, to be more precise. If any of you are interested you can find me on Wattpad and Ao3 as “Ireallydontcare443” Here are a few links to my one-shots and my current large project, if any of you are interested! My current project: https://archiveofourown.org/works/38974686/chapters/97482780 Other One-shots: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39188718 https://archiveofourown.org/works/38793387 https://archiveofourown.org/works/38701860/chapters/96765096
I 👏 NEED 👏 EARLY 👏 DESTIEL 👏 FIC 👏 RECS
Im on season 4 of my misguided decision to rewatch supernatural and I really love the vibe of them first getting to know each other in the earlier seasons. Any recs?