The Chimera

Cas sat in a corner booth, fingers tickling the outside of his tumbler of bourbon, letting the drops of condensation gather on the pads of his fingers. He looked out across the bar, his free arm draped atop the back of the booth.

The vast room was sophisticated with its dim mood lighting and the sexy, clean cut of the bar. In the shadows, translucent hologram images entertained as men filtered in and out throughout the evening, either with their male partners or on the prowl for a fresh face.

Cas’s eyes dipped down to his tailored suit, straightening one of the lapels, feeling secure in his own display of elegance. He knew he looked good as he scanned his surroundings, surveying the meat in front of him with an enigmatic gaze. Through his eyes, the room seemed painted over, each person doused beneath a thick layer of lacquer and veneer, the murmur of their voices distant and indistinct as if he were under water.

A drink showed up on Cas’s table. A man in a suit stared at him from across the room, looking at him with a hungry smile. Cas flagged down the waitress who’d dropped it off. He pushed the drink forward with two fingers and a sigh. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to.

“I’ll take it,” she said, unmistakably staring at Cas too long.

She swallowed, nearly knocking the glass over before successfully grabbing it, while Cas took another sip of his own.

“Don’t come back,” Cas said, voice coming out in gruff, rich waves. She nodded, scurrying off.

As he watched, Cas felt sure he understood the people in the room better than they knew themselves. It was disorienting, to be vitally connected to something while existing above it.

Or below it, he thought darkly. The phantom hunger of his past self breathed inside him, reminding him it was there. Reminding him why he still felt drawn to places like this, even two hundred years later. Why, when he couldn’t be tempted to partake, he still watched the hazy outlines of the people in front of him, his fingers tingling at the memory of what it was like to feel the touch of another man. His touch.

Cas let his eyes close as he breathed through his nose, pressing his back into the cushions behind him. When he opened his eyes again, he unleashed his darkness in the dim light, letting black ink bathe and drown the white. He felt more grounded in this authenticity, vaguely wondering if anyone would notice. If it would give him an excuse to let out his violent shadow. He counted the people in the room, feeling bored. When did murder lose its appeal, anyway? Cas had filled more graves as a demon than he had as an angel. And the number he’d killed while in heaven was considerable.

He quickly lost interest in finding out, though, the way he lost interest in the drink in front of him or the thoughts of fucking or killing the good-looking men in the room. He might settle for a good slaughter tonight despite the lack of thrill it caused him. It was something to do. But then again, he wouldn’t be able to come back here.

Cas sighed, throwing an extravagant amount of credits on the table for the waitress and stood up to leave. Maybe tomorrow night, he thought, moving to get his coat.

But the door opened at the front of the bar. Most of the men didn’t bother to look, but in the habit of a soldier, Cas did.

He wished he hadn’t, though. Wished he had left thirty minutes earlier. Because standing not ten feet away was Dean. Cas blinked, jaw tightening, not bothering to hide his demon eyes from Dean as he walked toward him.

The years reached between them like a vast and formidable wall. And yet, the sound was oddly familiar when Dean finally spoke:

“Hello, Cas.”

I just decided to post chapter one as my teaser for this fic since it’s such a short chapter. Come subscribe to the story for more!

Woah!! I just read this and it’s amazing??! You write so well and I can’t wait to read what’s next ^^❤️❤️

Dean and Cas AU series: [6/?] ↳ college roommates part 2

Suburban!dadstiel part 3 (part 1, part 2)

Suburban dadstiel is my new favorite thing (part 1)

Source x, x

Till The Very End - Destiel AU

So I got an anonymous request a long long long while back to write some kid!Dean and kid!Cas AU and I kinda got carried away and this happened. I hope you like it!! Also this is my first piece after my long hiatus so any feedback is appreciated ❤️

Thank you so much for being patient with me!

“Why are your clothes so torn?”


“They’re so big on you. Don’t you have better clothes?”

“You’re so ugly. Look how nice my clothes are!”

Three year old Dean Winchester sniffled, trying to hold back tears, as the other kids from his daycare taunted him. They were all laughing at his oversized flannel and his ripped shoes. Suddenly, a big kid pushed him so hard that he fell back and hit his head on the ground and that’s when the tears started to flow and Dean started sobbing. The other kids just laughed until a voice cried out,

“Hey get away from him!”

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“Oh yeah? Meet me by the flagpole after school, Novak!”

“Maybe I will, Winchester!”

Charlie glanced up from her biology book as she watched the two part ways down the hall, rolling her eyes at the half dozen or so people they’d managed to get to stare after them in concern. 

“What happened?” Garth whispered, leaning in close. “Why are they fighting?”

Charlie sighed and tucked her bookmark into the pages. 

“They’re not. That’s just where they meet to make out.”

“Then why did they -”

“They’re dramatic, Garth.” 

a concept: dean is a young art student that finds his perfect model on the metro

A Match Made in Heaven 5

This is PART 5

(You can start reading from the beginning here, find part 4 here or read this fic on AO3.)

Dean can’t help but stare a little longer at the beautiful man in front of him, taking in his effortless beauty and rumpled hair, his casual appearance and this aura of relaxation he seems to emit.

Nobody can blame Dean for having a hard time believing that he’s actually standing in front of the guy he has seen about a week ago in a small, smelly gym. The one he has dubbed the most gorgeous guy he has ever seen, after looking at him for less than three seconds. The one he thought he’d probably never see again- and if he did, he wouldn’t have the courage to actually approach him.

And, seriously, how lucky can a guy be? Dean is actually standing right in front of this dude, in his house, and he’s about to have a conversation with him! He’s able to spend time with him! The universe must like him a little, after all.

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“Dean we have to go!”

AU where John Winchester loved his boys just a little bit less and put them up for adoption and they were raised in a healthy, functional home.

They’re good boys. Mischievous, too smart for their own good, scrappy, practically attached at the hip, but good boys. Dean had a hard time adjusting at first, nonverbal and nightmare-ridden from post-traumatic stress, prone to panic attacks when alone, but their adopted parents found the best child psychiatrist they could afford and in time he began to heal, began to break out of his shell. Even when he wasn’t talking his empathy was remarkable, and as he’s grown a whip-smart analytical intellect developed to supplement it.

Dean remembers their birth parents like looming figures seen through smoke, but Sam, Sam grew up in this life, and their adoptive family is the only one he’s ever known. He has a rebellious streak a mile wide and it frustrates no one in the world more than it does Dean (still prone to hovering over or trailing behind him with a dreamlike missive ringing in his ears like the last audible echoes of a scream – Look out for Sammy), but he’s smart and strong and driven, independent and devoted all at once. He has these fits at times, though, and Dr Margaret (now the family psychiatrist) calls them rage attacks but they feel like blisters of thick oil growing and bursting inside him from gut to teeth. Over time he learns to swallow them down til he can go somewhere quiet, like the creek where the brothers chased frogs barefoot and shot BBs at old cans, to give in to the festering dark where he can’t hurt anyone else. Everyone knows sweet, sweet Sammy is the one with the temper. It gets chalked up to adolescence but he knows damned well it’s always been this way and probably always will.

They love to spar. Dean’s fondness of sports shooting tapers off in favour of wrestling and team sports (he loves the rush and competition but not so much the hurting-people part), while Sam is kind of scary good at Krav Maga once he finds a trainer for it (the discipline does him good).

At eighteen Dean is buried in scholarship offers – engineering, business, sports, he has heart and brains and beauty enough that the sky’s the limit – but passes up the Big Important Offers for the chance to stay in town close to home. Maybe he’ll do MIT later on but he just wants to stretch out his time close to family as long as he can. That’s where he’s happy. That’s where he’s safe.

(And, Sam suspects, it might also have something to do with wanting to stay near that one friend he’s been so close to since junior high. He’s been placing bets with himself on when his brother will nut up and ask the guy out for years.)

He takes a summer job as a volunteer firefighter. He has a panic attack the first time he has to go in. Even though Dean’s too old to see Dr Margaret as a patient she helps him through it, helps him overcome, but he decides discretion is the better part of valour. The family supports him in quitting as much as they did when he took the job: “You already saved me from the fire,” Sam tells him, “you don’t have to prove anything.”

Two years later Sam cashes in on his bet. Mom and Dad are a little shocked but Eric’s been like a third son for so long that when he comes over for dinner with Dean and they’re lacing fingers together instead of trading playful punches it’s just another layer of family, just another kind of love.

One year later Sam nearly hyperventilates over his acceptance letter from Stanford. It’s a full ride though their parents would have put up all they could afford and help shoulder his loans even if it wasn’t. Dean’s heart breaks a little, but Sam’s joy is like wildfire and they promise to visit each other even though Palo Alto is so far away. They make good on it, trading off driving (Dean) or flying (Sam) on breaks, keeping tabs in email and, later on, Skype. Sam brings a girl home with him for Dean’s graduation. They all love Jess, of course, instantly, and she’s instrumental in talking Dean into going after his MSE after all. Dean starts placing bets with himself on how long it’ll take til she’s wearing a ring.

They were good boys, and they become good men. Stalwart, too clever for their own good, not so attached at the hip anymore but still close, still mischievous, but good men. Dean soaks up love and radiates it back into everything he does and everyone he knows. Sam harnesses the dark inside him and turns it into a driving passion to do good and right wrongs, and doggedly ignores the nightmares that seem to come out of nowhere – Jess is there to soothe him when he wakes. Neither of them are marksmen, neither have Latin chants memorised; they don’t fear the night or the fire, nor go looking for trouble in them.

So when Azazel comes for Sam six months after his twenty-third birthday none of them are prepared to put up a fight.

He makes a good king.

AU Meme: Sam&Dean as spies with Castiel as their handler.

“Copy that, Huggybear.”

AU where Cas is the narrator for a Nat Geo documentary and Dean is one of the sound engineers. Cue late nights in the recording studio and Dean cracking up at the parts about mating rituals because Cas can say stuff like, “For a predator that averages 1,000 pounds, he is surprisingly gentle” with a totally straight face and everything is thrice as funny past midnight.

(Meanwhile, Dean’s co-worker is watching them both like, ‘Uh huh, look who’s talking. You’re the ones doing a mating dance.’)

Naturally, once they start dating, Cas randomly brings out his narrator voice to mess with Dean, like when Dean is in the bathroom shaving before their date and Cas is standing in the doorway all, “There he is, the striking male, grooming himself.” Dean rolls his eyes and blushes profusely and thinks his boyfriend is so ridiculous but holy moly, does that voice get him going.

Parallel Universe where Dean meets a hunter with a familiar face.

Omg please

A Match Made in Heaven

This is PART 3

(Here are part 1 and part 2, you can also read this fic on AO3)

Since Dean usually has to work during the time Sammy has basketball practice on Thursdays, Bobby- bless him for being this supportive and invested in Sam’s life- has been accompanying him to his basketball practice for the last two weeks. And that’s the exact reason why Dean is obligated to join and watch Sammy’s first game this week-end.

They arrive at the gym way too early, because Sam has insisted on driving there at least 40 minutes earlier than they would have needed to, because “Dean, what if there’s a traffic jam, or your car breaks down, or you take a wrong turn somewhere- and I miss my first game?!”. Sam even stubbornly insisted on driving to the gym in his sports clothes this morning, because he wanted to be ready to get going as soon as he enters the sports hall. Which left Dean hurriedly packing a gym bag with fresh clothes for Sammy to put on after the game literally five minutes before they had to leave their apartment.

And now Dean is sitting in an empty gym, watching Sammy jump around and do what he calls his “warm-up”, desperately willing the time to move a little faster. There are still 20 minutes left until the team is supposed to meet at the sports hall, and about 40 minutes until the game actually starts. Also, it’s not even fucking seven a.m. on a goddamn Saturday! Nobody can judge Dean for falling asleep leaning against the wall this early in the morning, especially not since he returned home from a night-shift at the bar just a few hours ago.

That doesn’t mean he isn’t embarrassed as hell when he finally wakes up, though. Dean awakes confused and grumpy, thinks about just falling back asleep- until he realizes where he is. He shoots up and off the wall, quickly taking in what’s going on around him and trying to guess how long he’s been asleep for. He’s lucky and finds that the game hasn’t even started yet, though there already are a few people sitting on the benches around him and watching the kids preparing for the game.

The guy next to Dean on the bench has apparently been startled by Dean’s aggressive way of waking up, because he’s currently blinking at Dean owlishly, fixing him with incredibly blue eyes and a slightly tilted head.

Dean only has a few seconds to take in the tousled dark-brown hair, the unbelievably sharp jawline and the way this dude’s black shirt stretches deliciously over his broad shoulders and chest. Before he can even send him a smile, what seems like a whole freaking family takes a seat between the two boys, squeezing themselves in the 5 inches-wide space on the bench between them.

Dean tries to catch the blue-eyed guy’s gaze again, but just when he leans forward, hands braced on his knees, the coach blows his whistle to signal the start of the game. Dean ignores this weird, overpowering need to interact with the boy he suddenly feels, in favor of focusing his attention on the game.

It doesn’t take him long to find his sasquatch brother in the crowd of hyped-up kids, and when he does, Sam meets Dean’s eyes with a grin too big to be healthy. He shoots his big brother a thumbs-up before putting on what’s probably supposed to be his ‘I am so incredibly concentrated’-face (but looks more like his ‘I am so incredibly constipated’-face, if you were to ask Dean) and focuses on the game himself.

The game is actually pretty interesting and Dean soon finds himself really engrossed in what’s happening. The crowd is, unfortunately, not really responsive; all the kids get for scoring is quiet applause and a few nice words like “Good work!”, “You go, Sarah!” or “Nice throw!”.

Which is why, in hindsight, Dean’s reaction to Sammy’s first score is pretty damn embarrassing. The kids have been playing for about half an hour when Sammy gets ahold of the basketball, shoots it towards the hoop and actually scores!

Dean is up and cheering without a second thought, throwing his hands in the air and screaming from the top of his lungs, drowning the meager applause.  “Damn YES!! Freaking awesome, Sam! That’s a real Winchester, right here- look at him killing the game!”

For a few seconds, the gym grows even more quiet, and what feels like every single person in there is staring at him. From his position, he has a great few over the crowd, and for a moment he catches the dark-haired guy’s eyes. He notices him looking directly at him and grinning like crazy, and because Dean apparently doesn’t have his body under control anymore, he starts blushing furiously.

And that marks the moment he finally realizes that he just embarrassed himself in front of his little brother’s new team and a huge part of their families and friends.

Which means, Sammy is probably going to be ten times more embarrassed than Dean himself, and Dean is likely to never hear the end of this. He shoots a concerned look towards Sam- and finds him, thank fuck, beaming from ear to ear at his goofy big brother! He’s lucky Sam still cares so much about his opinion and support, otherwise he might have had to deal with Sammy’s newfound preteen-bitchyness for the next few days because he just behaved like that in front of his new friends.

Dean sends a thumbs-up and a proud grin towards his brother before plopping back down on the bench, ignoring the weird look he gets from the woman besides him and continues watching the game.

The time goes by way faster than Dean would have anticipated and in no time at all the coach ends the game and the Green Dragons are squealing and jumping around and celebrating their win, while their competitors sulk. Soon, all kids are retreating to the changing rooms and Dean is left waiting for his brother in a sports hall that’s suddenly buzzing with life, as parents are starting to strike up conversations with each other or attempt to squeeze out of the gym to get some fresh air.

Dean gets up and starts desperately looking for blue eyes and dark hair in the crowd, hoping to actually get a chance to talk to the guy. Before he can find him, though, Sam is standing in front of him in his fresh clothes and suddenly tackles him in a hug.

“That was so much fun! Thanks for letting me do this, De.” He giggles into his brother’s shoulder.

“Hey, I’m glad you enjoy playing basketball so much! Also, you kicked ass- you actually are freaking amazing at this. You being freakishly tall finally has its advantage,” Dean grins and ruffles his hair. “You better thank Bobby for driving you to practice all the time, though. Don’t take that for granted!”

“Sure, I‘m gonna do that when I see him in a few days!” Sam agrees eagerly.

“You better! Come on, let’s head home. I might even make celebratory burgers for dinner, if you hurry up.”

Sam’s up and at the door in a few seconds, pulling Dean with him and dragging his gym bag along with him with his other hand. The gym is pretty empty now, but Sammy still turns, waves at the last few kids and shouts his goodbye before they head towards the car.

The first half of their drive home is uncharacteristically quiet, up until Sam tentatively starts a conversation. “Listen, Dean. Claire actually asked if we could meet outside of school and basketball practice. What do you think?”

                                                 To be continued…

Weiterlesen

One of the single parent AU prompts really struck me, so here it is!

“Come on, Em, work with me here,” Dean muttered as his two-year-old daughter squirmed on his lap. She whined, and Dean winced apologetically at the bus patrons who shot them annoyed looks.

“It’s just a bit longer, baby girl. It’s okay, shh,” he tried, but Emma wasn’t having it. She fussed and wriggled, her blond pigtails poking up against Dean’s chin. 

Dean sighed. His boss had kept him after work, so he’d arrived late to pick her up from daycare. Since it was almost her nap time, she’d fallen asleep and he’d had to wake her up…which was a nightmare. His little girl hated being woken up. 

Man, she was gonna be a real joy when it was time for her to go to school. Dean was not looking forward to that.

Emma whined again and squirmed so hard that Dean had tighten his grip to keep her on his lap. At that, Emma adopted a new tactic to signal her displeasure - she burst into tears. Dean rocked her desperately, but she just wailed even louder.  

Now the other bus patrons looked really annoyed. 

All except for a man sitting directly across from them. 

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