d e s t i n y ;
we ripped up the ending... and rules... and destiny... leaving nothing but freedom and choice.
The Spring Drabble Chain is here!
You don’t have to be in the server to participate, as we’re running two chains simultaneously: one in our server, and one here on tumblr.
HOW IT WORKS:
- Our mod @deansmultitudes will start you off. Always check the notes to see the latest reblog with the updated list of prompts.
- Then anyone can tap in! Choose one of the prompts, reblog the post with your drabble and replace the prompt you chose with one of your own.
- Post your drabble and then the updated prompt list below the previous person. Be quick! This is a live challenge and there’s a chance someone might steal the prompt you have your eye on.
- You can tap in as many times as you want, just be sure to give everyone else a chance. There’ll also be a separate chain in our server if you’d like to join in both places! Link at the bottom of the post!
- The chain will end at 11:59 PM GMT on Sunday 18th April.
THE DETAILS:
- There’s no word count limit, but bear in mind that each prompt can only be filled once. When it’s gone, it’s gone!
- We’re opening this to all themes, but please remember to tag appropriately.
- Post your drabble and the updated prompt list below a ‘read more’ cut. This could end up a long post, so the only visible text above the cut should be the prompt you chose, relevant warnings, and a line or two of your drabble.
- If you have any questions, feel free to send us a message here or in our discord server!
LIST OF PROMPTS
1. Busking/Street Performance
2. Cigarette ash
3. “Have a little faith.”
4. A day that lasts forever
5. Ink-stained hands
6. “What have you done?”
7. Tattoo
8. Competitive
9. “Please, please, do me a favour and never say that again.”
10. Goosebumpsprompt: cigarette ash
warnings: smoking, mentions of violence & torture, mention of cancer
Dean rests his head against the wall and takes a slow drag of his cigarette. The orange glow crawls closer to his inked knuckles, leaving ash in its wake. He keeps saying he only smokes to release some of the stress, but as the tufts of smoke leave his mouth, the tension never leaves his shoulders.
prompt: ink-stained hands
warnings: implied smut.
Castiel loves through his art.
What might not be attainable for him in real life is his to shape, to caress, to adore when he smears ink across a canvas. Where once a love might have eluded him, secretly he shared a part of it, a fragment of it in the early hours of the morning beneath a low-lit lamp that tints his skin golden orange.
Writers of Destiel - Valentine’s Drabble Chain!
Valentine’s Day is upon us! Come join our discord server to celebrate it with us by having a little fun with our favorite hunter and angel couple!
How does the drabble chain work?
Pick one of ten given prompts, use it to write a quick drabble, post it, and replace the used prompt with your own.
Please note that the event is taking place entirely in our discord server, and this is a concurrent post containing (some of) the drabbles shared!
Prompt List:
1. Heart
2. “Be my Valentine?”
3. Roses
4. Candy
5. Date
6. “Is that for me?”
7. Love Letter
8. Secret Admirer
9. “Don’t tell me you forgot?”
10. Scenario: Dean gets a lot of Valentine’s Cards. Castiel is jealous.Heart (General, 330 words)
The heart shaped cookies were taunting him.
Neatly iced, but far from perfect, sitting elegantly on a plate in the kitchen. They smelled delicious and Dean’s mouth watered as his hand crept towards the plate.
“Don’t tell me you forgot?” (General, 300 words)
The house was eerily quiet when Castiel got home from work, his shift running later than expected. He sets the bunch of roses on the side table as he shucked off his trenchcoat.
“Dean? I’m home.“
“In the living room,” he heard him call back.
Castiel moved to the room, darkened with just the dim table lamp and the glow from the TV. He furrows his brow, movie and pizza was what they did every Sunday.
Stuffed Animal (General, 279 words)
It’s a precarious little thing. Soft plush material sewn in black and yellow colors, floppy wings attached at the top. A stinger sticks out of the tail end but besides that, Castiel is certain this toy is not anatomically correct. It’s a round cushioned stuffed bee that he holds in his hands. It’s eyes are nothing but buttons, a small smile stitched in black below them. The bee has no limbs, very peculiar.
"What’s this?” Castiel asks gruffly as he twists the stuffed animal around to inspect all of its faults.
“It’s a bee,” Dean scoffs. “A plush animal. You know, a gift.”
“This is not a bee.” Castiel’s argument causes Dean to laugh.
“Of course it is, you dimwit.” Wiping an imaginary tear from his eyes, Dean grins broadly at the angel sitting beside him.
Castiel can sense the warmth radiating from Dean’s soul, an ember of glee that Dean seldom shows anymore. He blinks at the way that this energy is directed at him and a warmth of its own surges in Castiel’s chest. A part of him shys away from his friends, Castiel’s eyes cast down on the bee still in his hands.
There is sentiment to buying someone a gift especially on St. Valentine’s Day. Usually reserved for small children or lovers. Dean was only Castiel’s lover in his wildest dreams however. What he felt for the hunter was much different to what Dean must feel for him. Still, squeezing the plush bee, Castiel would cherish the gift in the same way that he did the mixtape Dean had given him before.
Shutting his eyes, Castiel tucks the toy underneath his chin.
“Thank you, Dean.”
Prompts:
1. Soulmate
2. “Be my Valentine?”
3. Roses
4. Candy
5. Date
6. “Is that for me?”
7. Love Letter
8. Secret Admirer
9. Box of Chocolates
10. Scenario: Dean gets a lot of Valentine’s Cards. Castiel is jealous.
Soulmate (General, 242 words)
The flood of colour was almost blinding, and if Dean hadn’t been at a critical stage of stirring a healing potion, he might have closed his eyes against the sudden saturation.
Who knew that rose petals could be so vibrant? The monochromatic filter he’d always seen life through had hidden some of the true beauty of the world.
Writers of Destiel - Valentine’s Drabble Chain!
Valentine’s Day is upon us! Come join our discord server to celebrate it with us by having a little fun with our favorite hunter and angel couple!
How does the drabble chain work?
Pick one of ten given prompts, use it to write a quick drabble, post it, and replace the used prompt with your own.
Please note that the event is taking place entirely in our discord server, and this is a concurrent post containing (some of) the drabbles shared!
Prompt List:
1. Heart
2. “Be my Valentine?”
3. Roses
4. Candy
5. Date
6. “Is that for me?”
7. Love Letter
8. Secret Admirer
9. “Don’t tell me you forgot?”
10. Scenario: Dean gets a lot of Valentine’s Cards. Castiel is jealous.
Heart (General, 330 words)
The heart shaped cookies were taunting him.
Neatly iced, but far from perfect, sitting elegantly on a plate in the kitchen. They smelled delicious and Dean’s mouth watered as his hand crept towards the plate.
Morning Sunshine (AO3)
Summary: Castiel visits Morning Sunshine bakery every day before work. 6.2k
Written for the Writers of Destiel ‘Writer’s Choice’ Bingo for the prompt ‘Bakery AU’.
Many many thanks to @fangirlingtodeath513 and the Writers of Destiel discord for supporting me through this fic.
FRIDAY
Castiel pushed open the door to Morning Sunshine Bakery with only a mild amount of hesitation. His concern was pushed aside to be momentarily forgotten as warmth washed over him from the interior. The scene of sugary sweetness, fresh pastries, and freshly-brewed coffee assaulted his senses and Castiel inhaled deeply.
For a moment, it was heavenly. And then he remembered why he’d been reluctant to open the door in the first place.
“Dean,” the redhead behind the counter bellowed. “Your favourite customer is here!”
Castiel tried to signal for Charlie to stop, but it was too late. There was the sound of clattering out the back and then the source of Castiel’s daily irritation burst through the door from the kitchens. Great. The baker was seemingly oblivious to the flour that was smeared all up his cheek, but it did nothing to hide how attractive he was.
Sighing, Castiel cut his losses. “Good morning. A medium black coffee and—
Iridescent (AO3)
Summary: Castiel experiences life through colours. 1.1k
Written for the Writers of Destiel ‘Writer’s Choice’ Bingo for the prompt ‘Watercolour’.
Thanks to @envydean for being an amazing beta and helping me brainstorm!
Castiel experienced life through colours.
It was somewhat different to synesthesia, where colours could be associated with people or objects. No, there was a certain amount of detached empathy in Castiel’s world spectrum. The letter ‘S’ didn’t come with an association of navy blue, nor any other colour for that matter. The colours were emotions.
But not his own.
People actively changed colour depending on their primary emotion. Castiel could walk down the street and see a woman change from a vivid cerulean to a muted tangerine and back again as she passed by a particularly persistent panhandler, or a man whose entire silhouette lit up golden yellow when he received a call from his fiancee. The colours were everywhere, often as fleeting as the emotions they represented, and Castiel was enthralled by it all.
It was beautiful and fascinating, and no two colours were ever the same at any time. He supposed it all came down to the experience of the individual, how heightened they felt that particular emotion and what was causing it. It had taken him a long time to understand that there were people behind the colours, identities that could not be summed up by the level of wrath or excitement they were feeling that day. If he focused hard enough, he could tune out the colours and focus on the face behind them. But not completely. There was always a tinge that betrayed what the person in question was feeling.
Under The Oak Tree (AO3)
Summary: Five times Castiel wept underneath the old oak tree, and one time he laughed. 4.1k
100 Ways To Say ‘I Love You’ #31: “Don’t worry about me.”
Also written for the Writers of Destiel ‘Writer’s Choice’ Bingo for the prompt ‘under the oak tree’.
Thanks to @fangirlingtodeath513 for being a fantastic beta!
1.
Beneath an old oak tree on the outskirts of town, Castiel wept into his hands, uncaring of the snot and blood that smeared across his face as he cried. He couldn’t go home yet, even though he knew his parents would be expecting him. If they saw the blood on his face, they’d know exactly what had happened.
If they found out he was being bullied again, they’d make him switch schools. For the second time. Castiel had started at the fancy private middle school across town, but he’d been miserable there. His friend Dean had gone to the local middle school—where Castiel was now enrolled—and he didn’t want to move someplace else. He wanted to stay with Dean.
Dean had been pretty good about protecting him from being pushed around so far, but he couldn’t be around all the time. Their schedules were too different to facilitate that. Castiel’s older brother, Gabriel, had moved with him too, but where Castiel was a social outcast, Gabriel was a social butterfly.
It was only a matter of time before Gabriel found out about the bullying and rained Hell down on them, but Castiel didn’t want that. Gabriel wouldn’t be able to fight his battles forever.
“You okay, Cas?”
Castiel jumped, his heart thudding in fright. He’d been so wrapped up in his tears that he hadn’t even heard the sound of his best friend arriving. Truth be told, Castiel hadn’t expected to be found here. He’d only stumbled upon this hill accidentally when the sidewalk had turned into grass and he’d lost track of where he was.
“I’m fine,” he sniffed, taking the tissue that Dean held out to him and cleaning the worst of the blood from his face. “Thanks.”
Equals (AO3)
Summary: Castiel has one shot, and if it involves punching Crowley in the face? All the better.
Rating: Teen
Word Count: 1,372
Tags: AU, Human AU, Prison AU, angst with a happy ending, secret relationship, prison/guard relationship.
Written for the Writers of Destiel server ‘Weekly Words’ challenge, with the prompt ‘white wings’.
He could let it go.
It was just a sarcastic comment, a friendly joke that Castiel had been made the butt of. Normally he’d be the first one to laugh that off. But today he didn’t want to. Castiel had been looking for an excuse to crack skulls all day and now he’d found one.
There was a buzz of excitement from the other inmates as Castiel leapt from his seat, fist flying towards Crowley’s face. There was a sickening crunch that almost certainly loosened a few teeth, and Castiel savoured in his triumph for just a moment. The guards hovering at the sides of the yard had yet to notice that a full-blown brawl was about to break out, but they’d figure it out soon enough.
Fate (AO3)
Summary: “C’mon, it’ll be fun,” Dean tugged Castiel towards the storefront. “Don’t you want to find out who your soulmate is? Who you’re fated to be with?”
Rating: Teen
Word Count: 1,338
Tags: AU, Human AU, Anti-Soulmate AU, angst with a happy ending
Written for the Writers of Destiel server ‘Weekly Words’ challenge, with the prompt ‘rise from the ashes’.
“C’mon, it’ll be fun,” Dean tugged Castiel towards the storefront. “Don’t you want to find out who your soulmate is? Who you’re fated to be with?”
Castiel dug his heels in, refusing to be coerced towards the sketchy-looking store front. He didn’t know why Dean had gotten it into his head that he wanted to try and go to a witchy-wicca-hybrid store, but Castiel wasn’t getting involved.
“Absolutely not. At least, not at the expense of giving some charlatan my money. And honestly, I suspect my soulmate might be a bit of a jackass.”
Dean rolled his eyes and slid his arm around Castiel. “So, I’m a jackass now? Gotta say, I’m starting to feel a little unloved here, Cas.”
Castiel scowled, refusing to be baited. “You know I love you. But I thought we agreed that we didn’t want to find out if we were soulmates. That the way we felt about each other was enough.”
“It is,” Dean averted his eyes and scuffed his boot along the floor. “I just wanted… forget it, it was a stupid idea anyway. Let’s go.”
“What were you going to say?” Castiel dug his heels in once again, now refusing to let Dean drag him away from the store. He might not want to go in, but he knew if they left, he’d never find out what Dean was about to say. “Tell me.”
Eyes Shut (AO3)
Summary: Dean learns a lesson about the dangers of drink-driving, and in the process learns a few things about his future.
Rating: Teen
Word Count: 1,500
Tags: AU, Human!Castiel, angst with a happy ending, serious injuries, paraplegia, A Christmas Carol AU, implied alcoholism, basically Dean is a jerk in this and learns his lesson.
“Another?”
The bartender holds out a bottle of whiskey, an eyebrow raised. Dean looks down at his empty glass and then pushes it forward with one finger. “Fill ‘er up.”
“Last one,” she tells him. “I’m cutting you off.”
Dean grunts and looks at her. She’s stunning, all blonde and curvy and exactly his type. But he drags his eyes away, thinking about the perfect boyfriend he had waiting for him at home. Castiel was truly the man of his dreams, and nobody else held a candle to him, and hadn’t since they met as college roommates.
He looks down at his phone and sees that Castiel is calling, for the fifth time. Dean flips his phone, effectively silencing the call. He drains his glass and gets to his feet, dropping a wad of bills on the bar. A little unsteady on his feet as he steps onto the pavement, Dean leans against the wall to try and shake it off, closing his eyes.
Lost after NaNoWriMo? Need motivation to keep going with your fic? Look no further!
The Writers of Destiel discord server will now be hosting 5k weekends! From Friday until Sunday, every weekend for the foreseeable future, we will be hosting 5k weekends! Simply try your best to reach 5,000 words (an average of 1,667 words per day, just like NaNo!) and power through towards your final goal!
Chat with likeminded writers, participate in writing sprints with one of our custom bots, Jack or Benny, and work on some fanfiction featuring our two favourite boys.
To participate, simply be a writer of Destiel fanfiction and join our server!
Sorry this took me a while. Contains mentions of season 9.
Dean looked down at the badly-wrapped parcel in his hands, feeling a mixture of emotions.
He’d forgotten about it, truth be told. Once upon a time, a few years ago when Castiel was Steve and Dean was a dick. There was no two ways about it, and Dean could stand up and admit it to himself now, if he thought about it. Which he quite often chose not to.
But back then, that one time Castiel had called him about a case, when it just been the two of them, Castiel had given him this. Said it wasn’t much, but his paycheck had all gone on food and blankets and toiletries. But he’d saw this and thought of Dean, and he wasn’t sure if he’d be allowed to visit the bunker for Christmas –
Dean’s hands tightened around the paper and tore it slightly as he fought back self-hatred and disgust. Castiel had been homeless and had used the last of his paycheck to buy Dean a gift that Dean had just shoved into a drawer when he got home and forgot about. Five years it had been lost in that drawer, with Dean never giving it a second thought. Until he’d been looking for a lost vial of lamb’s blood that Sam swore he hadn’t moved, and had stumbled across it.
Dean almost didn’t want to open it.
But he thought about how Castiel had used the last dollars he’d had to his name to buy it, so he tore into the wrapping paper. A note fluttered to the floor, and Dean picked it up, hurriedly.
Dean,
I don’t know if the winter is as frosty in Lebanon as it is here, but I’d hate for you to be cold.
Swallowing hard, Dean forced himself to push away the guilt and keep reading. He knew Castiel hadn’t meant this maliciously, to guilt-trip him. He’d been kind and generous, the way he always was.
I hope they’re a suitable gift. I believe that the best gifts are practical, and I’m aware of human customs enough that I trust you will consider this practical while also appreciating the humour.
Merry Christmas, to you and Sam.
Cas
Dean set the note down and finished digging through the open wrapping paper, pulling out his gift. He barked out a laugh as he realised what he was holding.
Socks.
Dean looked through them, chortling to himself as he read the messages on them.
SEND NOODS.
IF YOU CAN READ THIS, BRING ME PIZZA.
SCOOBY SNAX.
It was the kind of gift Dean could appreciate. Not just for its humour, but because it came from Cas. Dean hadn’t gotten him anything that year. Or any year since, or before. Castiel claimed he didn’t celebrate it but always came to hang out or found some excuse to check in regardless.
And he probably thought Dean had hated his gift.
That was unacceptable. Dean sat down abruptly and tore off his socks, replacing them with the pizza socks from the pack. He would wear the damn things every day until he’d worn holes in them. He wanted Castiel to know how much he loved them. He didn’t care if he had to pace the bunker wearing just these socks, he would make sure Castiel saw him wearing them.
It wasn’t until well after dinner that Castiel noticed them.
They were sitting watching TV, sitting side-by-side on the couch while Sam and Jack were curled up in their respective armchairs, asleep. Dean had his feet propped up, totally engrossed in the latest episode of Game of Thrones, when he felt the hesitant brush of fingers across his ankle.
Castiel had slid from the couch, looking at the socks in surprise, running his finger across the elastic. Dean tried not to be aware of the tingles the touch was sending throughout his body.
“I thought you didn’t like these. I never saw you wear any of them.”
Dean swallowed hard. “Nah,” he murmured. “They’re my favourites. I only wear them on special occasions.”
The smile that lit up Castiel’s face was brilliant and he retook his seat, a little closer to Dean than before. Dean could feel the warmth and affection radiating from the angel and was trying not to combust. He tried not to show any expression as he stared at the screen, but his hand reached over and found Castiel’s, threading their fingers together.
He might not have been brave enough for more yet.
But he would get there.
Send me a single word and I’ll write something?
Taking a step back, Castiel looked over at the fruits of his labour for the last time. It was a spectacular cake, even if he said so himself. Six tiers, a fluffy lemon sponge with a blueberry compote and lilac-infused cream. It was decorated with flawless white fondant, and blue and green sugared flowers. It stood, tall and regal, the most spectacular wedding cake that Castiel had ever created without a doubt.
Sam and Jess were worth it.
Castiel was happy for them, truly. Still, he couldn’t shake the wistful as he dreamed of his own wedding, to Sam’s brother and love of Castiel’s life, Dean. They’d been together for seven long years. Engaged for almost two. Yet with Dean’s career as a naval engineer requiring long hours and Castiel’s own couture wedding cake business taking off, landing him with a six-month waiting period, they’d never had time to arrange anything.
Yet when Sam had announced his engagement, blushing and shy, Dean had taken an immediate vacation and promised Sam he wouldn’t have to worry about a thing. That Dean would plan everything for him. He had done an admirable job, dragging Castiel around venues and testing caterers. He’d even recruited Charlie to officiate the ceremony. Pleased by Dean’s renewed interest in weddings, Castiel had tentatively reminded Dean they had yet to set a date for their own nuptials.
“Sure, but I gotta focus on Sammy first, Cas. He’s my little brother. His happiness is the most important thing to me.”
That had stung.
Unwilling to voice his concerns, Castiel had volunteered to make the wedding cake for free, as part of his gift to Sam and Jess.
Now the big day was here. Dean had spent last night over at Sam’s to stop him from fretting and suffering from cold feet. Castiel had dressed in his tux alone, and even though he was meant to be making his way to the church, he’d been unable to resist stopping by his bakery, even though Anna and his apprentice Jack would be bringing the cake to the reception later.
The sound of the door chiming drew Castiel’s attention and he turned to see Sam, dressed in his own tux, complete with blue waistcoat.
“Sam? Shouldn’t you be at the church?” Castiel asked, alarmed, looking across at the clock.
“So should you,” Sam reminded him. “Dean was looking for you. There was an issue with the flowers, so he’s handling that while I came to get you. We should go, or Jess will beat us there.”
Castiel nodded, unable to help grinning at Sam widely. “Are you nervous about today?” He teased. “It’s been a long time coming.”
Sam snorted. “You got that right,” he muttered. “I can safely say that nervous isn’t my main emotion right now. Oh, that reminds me, Dean gave me this for you. Said something about both my best men needing to match.” He fixed a boutonniere into Castiel’s buttonhole.
Castiel blinked as that registered. “Both? But I thought – Dean’s your brother, and I would never presume…”
“After all this time, you think you’re not my brother just as much as Dean is?” Sam nudged him gently. “Sorry I didn’t ask you sooner. Dean said the pressure would stress you out.”
“I’d be honoured,” Castiel replied, roughly, feeling a lump in his throat. “We should go.”
The ride to the church was quiet, with Castiel still reeling from being asked to be Sam’s best man. He’d never even considered dual-duties with Dean, especially since Dean had taken care of almost everything, and Castiel was sure he could throw a speech together off the top of his head. He had seven years of material, after all.
They hurried into the church, but instead of making their way into the nave as expected, Sam pulled him into one of the side rooms. “Wait here for two minutes, okay? I’ll get Dean, he’ll need to coordinate with you about… uh… the rings, I think?”
Sam disappeared into the church, leaving Castiel confused but content to do as he was instructed. When Gabriel appeared moments later, Castiel stared at his brother.
“Sam invited you?”
“Actually, Dean did,” Gabriel gave him a shit-eating grin. “You haven’t figured it out yet, have you? This isn’t Sam’s wedding, Bucko. It’s yours.”
Castiel’s jaw dropped.
“Dean planned everything, because he knew you were too busy. Got your input on the venue, the caterers, hell, you even designed your own wedding cake. He’s in there and he wants to marry you right now. So what do you say, kid? Want to go marry your dreamboat?”
Tears filled Castiel’s eyes and he wiped them away furiously, giving a nod. His heart felt like it was going to explode down his chest as he took Gabriel’s arm and let the sound of the wedding march fill his ears as he finally understood what was going on. His knees felt weak as he walked, his hands trembling as he passed row after row of their friends, their family. But Castiel didn’t see any of them. He only had eyes for Dean.
Each slow step down the aisle felt like torture when he could see Dean standing at the front, so far away and yet so close. Castiel wanted to break away from his brother and run to his future husband, but a lot of planning had gone into this and Castiel would be damned if he did anything to ruin it, or make it anything less than perfect.
When he eventually reached Dean, and he took the warm, familiar hand that was waiting for him, his strength returned. The pounding of blood in his ears faded and all that remained was love. Unconditional love for the selfless, beautiful man in front of him. Castiel clung to Dean’s hand tightly feeling tears well up again, but when they clouded his view of Dean’s face, he blinked them away.
“Those are happy tears, right?” Dean whispered, a spark of uncertainty hidden deep within his green eyes. “If this isn’t what you wanted –”
Castiel cut off any self-deprecation with a kiss that he knew was meant to come later, but he didn’t care. In the pews, their friends and families laughed, but Castiel heard nothing. He just felt Dean’s laughter against his lips and then arms were encircling his waist and pulling him in close. Their lips parted and then Dean’s forehead was resting against his own.
“I love you,” Castiel choked. “So much.”
“I love you more,” Dean smiled. “That’s a ‘yes’ to marrying me, right?”
Castiel pulled back, reaching out to take Dean’s hands again with a wide smile on his face.
“I can’t think of anything I want more.”
The video that inspired Castiel’s routine.
Send me a single word and I’ll write something?
Dean sat down, trying to catch his breath. He had done his absolute best, he knew that. There was nothing he could have done on his part to execute his free skate any better. He’d nailed every toe loop, salchow, lutz and axel that his coach had choreographed for him.
The scores would reflect that, yet he knew he wouldn’t be taking home the gold medal this time.
That honour would go to Castiel Novak.
Dean gritted his teeth as he thought about his competition. Everyone hated Castiel Novak. Where the rest of the skaters were all social, Castiel kept to himself. What could be shyness came off as arrogance and it rubbed Dean the wrong way. He’d already nailed the short program, leagues ahead of everyone else. His old-fashioned routines drew attention.
Nobody expected a man in his twenties to be skating to classical music. Rachmaninoff, Vivaldi, Chopin. They were a rarity among the modern skaters, who preferred to skate to whatever had been in the charts at the start of the season. Even Dean, with his classic rock routines, was less unusual than Castiel.
But the judges ate him up.
Dean wasn’t even trying to hide his bitterness. He knew it was coming across as petty jealousy, like he was envious of the skill Castiel had and the points he scored. It wasn’t that. It was that he was pandering to the preferences of the judges. In Dean’s book, that was only a step away from cheating.
He glanced up to see his score, and smiled. That was enough to earn him the silver, he was sure of it.
Castiel was up next for his free skate, but Dean wasn’t paying attention. He settled down with the other competitors, gulping gratefully at the bottle of water that Benny handed to him.
“Thanks, man.”
“You did good,” Benny drawled. “Much as it pains me to admit it, I think you just knocked me down to bronze.”
Dean grinned, and knocked his elbow into Benny’s. “No hard feelings, right?”
“Sure, brother. ‘Til next time.”
Their conversation was interrupted by the screeching of one of the other entrants, Dick Roman, who was hooting with laughter.
“He fell! Perfect Castiel Novak slipped and hit the ice. Good luck hanging onto that gold now, Asstiel!” He whooped.
Dean’s head whipped around in time to see the replay of the slip. Roman was right, Castiel had slipped and put his hand on the ice, but his recovery had been swift and, from the looks of it, he’d made enough rotations. For the first time, Dean paid close attention to Castiel’s routine, watching his lithe body as he swept around the rink.
He was unbelievable.
Bitterness faded into awe as he watched how Castiel’s form moved like liquid, each movement flowed into the next, precise and fluid. He was breathtaking. Ne Me Quitte Pas echoed around the stadium and Dean could see that Castiel knew every note, every word, every beat. This music wasn’t chosen for the judges. It was chosen by Castiel, for himself. He loved it. He revered it. It was visible in the execution.
When Castiel entered the room, sweaty and weary, he was met with jeers and taunts. For the first time, Dean disagreed with his fellow competitors. How could they not have seen the merit, the worthiness in Castiel’s routine? That hadn’t vanished just because he’d slipped. Everyone did at some point or other, whether it was during the World Championships or a warm-up.
He rose, intercepting Castiel on his way to an empty seat at the opposite side of the room. “I just wanted to say that I thought you were amazing.”
Castiel lifted his eyes to meet Dean’s, wary and assessing. After a moment, he nodded. “Thank you.”
“I mean it,” Dean pressed. “I’ve never seen that before, the way you move, it’s… breathtaking. Beautiful.”
He flushed as the word slipped from his mouth, and a small smile tugged at the corner of Castiel’s lips. Despite his best efforts, Dean couldn’t help but smile right back.
I can’t decide which of the 100 Ways series to work on next.
100 Ways To Say ‘I Love You’ #64
“It’s two sugars, right?”
Summary: It was an utter lack of hope that made Castiel Novak end his relationship with his alcoholic fiancé, Dean Winchester, fourteen months ago. [AO3]
Inspired by Don’t Let Go by the wonderfully talented @envydean
Castiel sat bolt upright, his heart thudding in his chest. His hand twitched but he didn’t reach for the gun on his nightstand just yet, taking stock of the situation. What had woken him? His bleary eyes struggled to focus in the dark, the fuzzy red display of his alarm clock informing him that it was coming up to 2am.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Instantly alert, he snatched up his gun and slid out of bed in a single smooth motion. Shirtless and barefoot, wearing only the ratty pair of pyjama pants he slept in, Castiel made his way down the stairs in the dark. He knew this house backwards: how to traverse it in the dark, knew to miss out the third stair from the bottom as it creaked loudly. The weight of the familiar Glock in his hand was a comfort to him, his FBI-issued service weapon giving him a sense of security at the unknown noise in the middle of the night.
Castiel longed to switch the light on so he could see exactly where the disturbance was coming from, but he currently had the advantage and he wouldn’t give that up so easily. Inching along the hallway, his eyes focused on the only fraction of light he could see – the porch light. He moved closer, keeping his shoulder pressed to the wall, his breath hitching when the loud bangs started up again. Now more awake, Castiel could identify them for what they were.
Someone was knocking at the door.