#happy 10th castiel

[daily-castiel]

Day 13

[gaytedlasso]

Castiel has formed himself into a divine creation

~

Happy 10th birthday to this blog!!

This drawing is a ode to the site and character that transed my gender, and changed me in numerous other ways.

Here's to 10 more...

*detail shots under the cut*

[goncharov-propaganda-factory]

Mishapocalypse: what the-

Hey, former redditors! Welcome to the hellsite, we're all glad that you're here (especially you 196 folk you warm my dead, frozen heart). While on the whole you seem to be adapting AMAZINGLY fast to site culture, if any of you are confused over one of our founding myths this may help.

(or if you're a veteran tumblrina and just want to read an essay that's fine too)

(others key parts of our national identity to learn about if you're curious include Goncharov, I Love You, Color of the Sky, My Three Girlfriends, and many more)

also if you don't want to read my entire fucking essay take this and run

but if you want to know the deal with this man, read on!

Mishorigins

Supernatural is a 2000s-ass TV series that ran on the CW from 2005 to 2020. It's about two brothers, Sam and Dean Winchester, who are "hunters" that protect people from various supernatural entities. The show was originally planned to last five seasons, with an angel character named Castiel (this is important) slated to be revealed as God in the finale. Castiel (nicknamed Cass by the CW and Cas by objectively correct people) was introduced in S4.

left: Castiel, the gay angel of our collective dreams. right: Misha Collins.

The Man Behind the Mish

Misha Collins is a straight man who was forced by a cruel and uncaring god to play a heavily queer coded angel on a TV series intended for any demographic BUT gay teens (which is what it became). His performance as Castiel, and the large queer teen fanbase he drew, were a driving force behind a show would ultimately continue for three times longer its original plan.

I don't have anywhere else to put these facts so they go here

he was an intern in the Clinton administration during the Lewinsky scandal

he knows Tibetan throat singing

he was arrested for climbing onto a bank roof (he was trying to... read a book? 👀👀👀)

he probably made Jensen Ackles (the guy who played Dean less homophobic? Maybe?

he held a scavenger hunt called GISHWHES several times for his charity, Random Acts

cool guy

he later played Harvey Dent on Gotham Knights this very year (2023)

there's icebergs of this shit

he farted on an airplane once

Mishion: Impossible

April 1st, 2013 is a date that will live in mishinfamy. Tumblr a main hub of the SuperWhoLock fandom (a mega-fandom amalgamating Supernatural, Sherlock BBC, and Doctor Who), was the only place the Mishapocalypse could happen.

For boring deets I'll redirect you to the KnowYourMeme page but these images should sum it up.

left: a list of Tumblr users, circa 2013. right: a fine example of Misha culture

There are two takeaways here:

You cannot outrun Misha.

You will become him.

On April 1, 2013, a significant portion of Tumblr changed their avatar to the now-iconic Mishapocalypse photo and their handle to "Misha Collins", followed by similar waves of Mish across other social media sites.

above: the modern Prometheus

This beautiful event was emblematic of pre-Dashcon Tumblr, an era as far away from us now as 1200 AD was from 1208 AD. You'll be pleased to know that the Mishapocalypse returns every April 1st to grace these ancient halls, a small group of pilgrims tracing new paths on the well-worn floor of the Church of Misha.

(this isn't to say the Supernatural fandom is dead, it's just somewhat diminished from it's glory days.

Thanks for reading! Reblog if you liked. I'll leave you with a bunch of Mishimages of my own that I posted for Mishapocalypse 23 (the 10th anniversary). Shameless self-promotion!!!

in clockwise order:

The Mona Misha

Mishius

Misha's extra hour in the ball pit

The Mishian (with Mish Damon)

Future ideas include Salvator Misha. Feel free to ask any questions you have, and I hope you enjoy Tumblr.

Happy Mishing!

ps I have not actually watched supernatural you just learn all of this via osmosis

[every-character-ever-poll]

WEEK SEVEN LINEUP

Soooo. I've been gone a while. What was supposed to be Week Six became more like "Two Months" Six. My bad. I can't promise that random breaks won't happen, but I'll do my level best to not let them become longer than a week if they do (knock on wood - the last time I said "I'll try not to take anymore random breaks" i dipped for a month).

Anyways, here's a very delayed Week Seven! Thank you to everyone who stuck around while I vanished.

Darkiplier - Markiplier

The Puzzler - Generation Loss

The Extinguisher - Jerma's 2022 Holiday Awards Show Extravaganza

The Giant Rat - Rat Movie: Mystery of the Mayan Treasure

Candace Flynn - Phineas and Ferb

Venus aka Kanamori - Heaven's Design Team

Han Ying - Word of Honor

Michealangelo - Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (2014)

Carrie White - Carrie (all media)

Steve the Trooper - Chuggaconroy’s Pikmin videos

The Thunderhead - Arc of a Scythe

Haruki Nakayama - Given

A - Tomorrow Will Be Dying

Doris Frances Barbara - Blood & Syrup: A Vampire the Masquerade Podcast

Juliet Capulet - & Juliet

May - & Juliet

Castiel Supernatural - Supernatural

Derek Hale - Teen Wolf

Lúthien Tinúviel - The Silmarillion

Potamos - Wedding Peach

Jiang Cheng - The Untamed

Poe Dameron - Star Wars

Asterion - Baldur's Gate 3

Dalian - Dantalian no Shoka

Shulk - Xenoblade Chronicles

Solid Snake - Metal Gear Solid

Zanza - Xenoblade Chronicles

Kuu - Haibane Renmei

Cole MacGrath - Infamous

Captain Olimar - Pikmin

Raku-chan - Nyan Neko Sugar Girls

Annie Wintersummer - Unprepared Casters

Yona - Akatsuki no Yona

Shane Schofield (Scarecrow) - Scarecrow and Jack West Junior

The Medic - Team Fortress 2

Sailor Jupiter - Sailor Moon

Orbulon - WarioWare

Mike - WarioWare

Cure Honey - Happiness Charge Precure

Crazy Barks - Drawn to Life

Ninjini - Skylanders

Cure La Mer - Tropical Rouge Precure

End (Endymion) - Beyond the End

Kansuke Yamato - Detective Conan

Mr. Crow, AKA Aldous Vanderboom - Rusty Lake/Cube Escape

Vega - Street Fighter

Izumi Miyamura - Horimiya

Aldark - Drawn to Life

M. Bison - Street Fighter

Aoi Inuyama - Yuru Camp

Klara - Pokemon

Virginia Lewis - The 10th Kingdom

Muriel - Good Omens

Nene Kusanagi - Hatsune Miku: Colorful Stage/Project Sekai

Michiko Malandro - Michiko to Hatchin

Suzuki Shinya - 10 Dance

Miles Maitland - Bright Young Things

Diavolo - Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure

Burly, Blabberwort, and Bluebell - The 10th Kingdom

Natsume Takashi - Natsume's Book of Friends

Faust - Guilty Gear

Sugiki Shinya - 10 Dance

Cure Finale - Delicious Party Precure

Igarashi Vice - Kamen Rider Revice

Mitsumi Iwakura - Skip and Loafer

The Corinthian - The Sandman

Shizuku Hinomori - Hatsune Miku: Colorful Stage/Project Sekai

Mickey Muldoon - The Magical Legend of the Leprechauns

Natsuki Shinomiya - Uta no Prince Sama

Sasha Braus - Attack on Titan

Virtue Courtenlock - Krillverse

Goop Lyn - veryextraincorrectfegbaquotes.tumblr.com

Jean-Francois - Bunny Maloney

Tome Kurata - Mob Psycho 100

Seras Victoria - Hellsing

Pang Pawaret - The gifted

Viren - The Dragon Prince

Brawne Lamia - Hyperion

Dai Lee - Let Dai

Haruka Kiritani - Hatsune Miku: Colorful Stage/Project Sekai

Minori Hanasato - Hatsune Miku: Colorful Stage/Project Sekai

Cube - Gather Ye Power

C-53 - Mission to Zyxx

Cynte - Endoparasitic

Ged/Sparrowhawk - Earthsea

Sniff - The Moomins

Soren Baltimore - Camp Here & There

Mellow - Endacopia

Eunhyung Song - Let Dai

Rufus - Deponia

Sheik - The Legend of Zelda

Lee Ping - Detentionaire

Kasane Fuchi - Kasane

Shigure Sohma - Fruits Basket

Aymeric de Borel - Final Fantasy XIV

Meta Knight - Kirby

Luka Couffaine - Miraculous Ladybug

Satō - Ajin: Demi-Human

Mudkip - Pokemon

Death of the Endless - The Sandman

[dcbtv]

Title: Lightkeeper O' Mine Author: Singing_You_Softly Artist: Golby Moon Song: The Lakes Posting date: 21/09/2023 Rating: General audiences Any archive warnings: No Top 10 main tags: 

Alternate Universe - 1950s

Lighthouse Keeper Dean Winchester

Poet Castiel (Supernatural)

Pining

Emotionally Repressed Dean Winchester

Slow Burn

Angst with a Happy Ending

Strangers to Lovers

Found Family

Hurt/Comfort

Summary: 

To the very northern most part of Ireland, one can find a little Island by the name of Inishtrahull. There you can see a lighthouse that has stood tall for decades, and for many years have it's keepers operated it's guiding light, bringing sailors and the like home safe.

The 10th increment of keepers, by the name of Dean Winchester, is a myth of a man. Aloof, hardly ever seen outside of the little cabin he resides in that's right beside the lighthouse he haunts. The only proof of his existence is the shining light of the beacon coming to life every night.

Dean Winchester thought he had made peace with himself. But a poet by the name C. Novak had left him restless, wondering where his life was leading to. So when a dark shadow walks the foot of his beach, Dean feels the landscape of Inishtrahull he had come to know changed like the shifting the tides. All with a single view of a cloaked stranger, one he plans never to learn the name of, no matter how Dean's heart thaws throughout his visit.

Author tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/king4aday Link to Fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50232364/chapters/126874894 Artist tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/golby-moon Link to Art: https://www.tumblr.com/golby-moon/729086923526782976/got-to-try-out-tons-of-new-things-with-this-fic?source=share

[ao3feed-destiel-02]

Lightkeeper O' Mine

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/8LPesSU by S1nging_Y0u_S0ftly To the northern most part of Ireland, one can find a little Island by the name of Inishtrahull. There you can see a lighthouse that has stood tall for decades, and for many years have it's keepers operated it's guiding light, bringing sailors and the like home safe. The 10th increment of keepers, by the name of Dean Winchester, is a myth of a man. Aloof, hardly ever seen outside of the little cabin he resides in that's right beside the lighthouse he haunts. The only proof of his existence is the shining light of the beacon coming to life every night. Dean Winchester thought he had made peace with himself. But a poet by the name C. Novak had left him restless, wondering where his life was leading to. So when a dark shadow walks the foot of his beach, Dean feels the landscape of Inishtrahull he had come to know changing like the shifting the tides. All with a single view of a cloaked stranger, one he plans never to learn the name of, no matter how Dean's heart thaws throughout his visit. Words: 33623, Chapters: 5/5, Language: English Fandoms: Supernatural (TV 2005) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: M/M Characters: Castiel (Supernatural), Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Bobby Singer (Supernatural), Benny Lafitte, Garth Fitzgerald IV, Bess Fitzgerald, Pamela Barnes (Supernatural), John Winchester, Mary Winchester, Gabriel (Supernatural) Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - 1950s, Lighthouse Keeper Dean Winchester, Poet Castiel (Supernatural), Ireland, Like A Small Island On Ireland, Pining, Emotionally Repressed Dean Winchester, Past Character Death, Dean Winchester Needs a Hug, Slow Burn, Storms, Angst with a Happy Ending, Strangers to Lovers, Childhood Trauma, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, All the Taylor Swift references, Dean writes poetry, Found Family, Lonely Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Dean Winchester is Loved, Dean Winchester Has Self-Worth Issues, so much pining read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/8LPesSU

[silverfacedherald]

e v o l u t i o n o f a n a n g e l . / Castiel

He’s come so far, he’s learned so much

[floral-cas]

I guess we can put away the kryptonite, right?

[saileen-away]

"The big lie, the Winchesters still buy it. The good Cass, the righteous Cass. As long as they get to believe it, you get to believe it. Well, I've got news for you, kitten: a whore is a whore is a whore." 10th Anniversary → "The Man Who Would Be King"

[myownworstenemyyy]

deleted scene from The Man Who Would Be King 😌 (inspo)

[a-midwinter-night-dream-86]

Only on Tumblr can I reblog posts on the November 2020 Destielgate, Taylor Swift's Disney+ special, pure unadulterated Loki crack, my love of Martin Septim and TES sh*tposts, and the Tangled's ten anniversary in one day and isn't that beautiful?

[waiting-for-a-sketch]

Cutest angel in the garrison. 😇

[the-goddess-of-mischief-writing]

Advent Calander

A/N: Now December is nearing and here’s the “Word of the Day” advent calendar I teased about a few months ago. For those of you this come as a surprise, I decided that every day from the 1st-24th of December, I’ll publish fics as some sort of advent calendar. Every story will be based on a specific word and its meaning. Each and every one of the characters I write for (aka have a spot on my masterlist) will make at least one appearance. Hopefully I’ll manage to get as many stories out on their set date, but if not, don’t fret, all days will have be published.

Happy reading and lets count down to Christmas together. x

1st of December: Dominion - is defined as control or power over, or the authority to rule, control; domination. (Lucifer)

2nd of December: Teem - to become filled to overflowing (Bucky)

3rd of December: Noetic - of or relating to the mind. (Kíli)

4th of December: Ethereal - extremely delicate, not of this word (Castiel)

5th of December: Nyctophilia - love of darkness or night, finding relaxation or comfort in the darkness's. (Loki)

6th of December: Eidolon - a dread of spectres, a phantom. (Bucky/Winter Soldier)

7th of December: Scintillating - witty; brilliantly clever. (Lucifer)

8th of December: Eccedentesiast - someone who hides pain behind a smile. (Pietro)

9th of December: Enlace - to interlace; intertwine. (Thorin)

10th of December: Atelophobia - the fear of imperfection or not being good enough, an extreme fear of failing to achieve perfection in any of ones action, ideas, or belief. (Thor)

11th of December: Inimical - adjective- reflecting or indicating hostility, unfriendly. (Thranduil)

12th of December: Tousle - to make untidy. (Castiel)

13th of December: Scuttlebutt - refers to a rumor or gossip. (Bucky/ 40s Bucky)

14th of December: Antediluvian - very old, old-fashioned, or out of date; antiquated. (Fíli)

15th of December: Aesthete - noun- someone with deep sensitivity to the beauty of art or nature. (Steve)

16th of December: Hagiography - biography of saints or venerated persons, idealising or idolising biography. (Lucifer)

17th of December:  Paraselene - a bright moonlike spot on a lunar halo; a mock moon. (Pietro)

18th of December: Euneirophrenia - the peace of mind that comes from having pleasant dreams. (Loki)

19th of December: Caliginous -dark. (Fíli)

20th of December: Dally - to act playfully (Pietro)

21st of December: Bivouac - to take shelter often temporarily. (Steve)

22nd of December: Undulant - the rise and fall of waves, or things that move or have a form like waves. (Thranduil)

23rd of December: Clinomania - Excessive desire to stay in bed. (Thorin)

24th of December: Succumb - to yield to superior strength or force, or overpowering appeal or desire. (Steve)

[muffinbeliever]

When the Stars Align [10]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Soulmate!Reader

Word Count: 3615

Warnings: blood, violence, nonconsensual sexual activity

Summary: Soulmate!AU– Everyone has the first words their soulmate says to them tattooed on their wrists. You and your cat are living a normal life in Fort Collins, Colorado when three men come bursting through your door, completely changing your life. Reader-insert story. Starts around S06E08, but Sam has his soul, and it doesn’t really follow the series from there

A/N: hello here is the 10th part! i made a slight change in Dylan’s appearance; i decided to make him a prince of hell rather than a normal demon.

Masterlist | When the Stars Align Masterlist

Dean knew he was being an idiot. He didn’t need Sam or Bobby to tell him that— not that it stopped them from doing so anyway. The first week, he had stayed at a motel, away from Sam’s harsh glares and Bobby’s disdain. He drank himself into oblivion, only leaving the room to buy more whiskey. 

The room was as dreary as Dean felt. The faded wallpaper was peeling at the edges, and there was a suspicious stain on the arm chair cushion. The curtains blocked out absolutely zero sunlight, and he wasn’t sure if it was the perpetual stench of mildew or the incessant drinking that left him with a pounding headache. 

He spent most of his time replaying their last phone conversation, her harsh words ringing through his head.

You don’t get me. Don’t you understand? You chose her.

He wished he could go back and tell Y/N that he didn’t choose Lisa. Or at least, he didn’t mean to. Fuck he was an idiot. 

She told him to stay away, and despite how much he wanted to see her, he knew she was better off without him. She was so pure, so perfect— too perfect— for someone like him. She didn’t need all of the baggage that came with him. She didn’t need the sleepless nights and the nightmare-induced panic attacks. 

Dean was relieved when Sam called on Friday, demanding that he return and help with the Leviathans. Blowing up primitive creatures was exactly the kind of distraction he needed right now. He knew he couldn’t personally keep Y/N safe, but Cas could. He knew that it was an invasion of privacy, that she would hate to know that he was checking in on her, but Dean couldn’t leave her all alone. Not when Dick Roman was still wandering around. 

Weeks passed and Dean had learned that Castiel’s weekly reports brought him nothing but pain. Y/N was in tears and her life was a mess because of him. At one point, Dean couldn’t take it anymore and he was halfway to Baby before he was sprawled on the ground, the weight of his younger brother on top of him. 

It was rare for the Winchester brothers to physically fight, usually opting to maim the other with well-chosen words instead. But, there were a few occasions where they really got into it. This was one of them. Dean didn’t know Sam could fight like that— he’d improved since their last tussle. Bloody and bruised, he finally agreed to not go, resulting in Sam knocking him out and leaving him in Bobby’s panic room for three days, just in case. 

When Cas had finally told the brothers that Y/N was happy again, tears pricked his eyes. He was glad she was happy— glad that she could be happy without him— but it didn’t help the hole in his heart that only grew with each passing day. 

He spent every night drinking away his sorrows in the closest bar. There were women who approached him, showing off their assets and whispering dirty promises in his ear, but he declined. He couldn’t help but compare them to her. His soulmate. His soulmate that was happy without him. 

When he wasn’t passed out, he laid in bed, staring at the concrete ceiling of the bunker, imagining her with another man. Most nights, it was Thomas, the asshole that had the audacity to ask Y/N out even though Dean was still in the picture. He saw her throwing her head back in laughter and rolling her eyes at Thomas’ stupid jokes, that probably weren’t even as funny as Dean’s were. He saw her standing in her kitchen, hips lightly swaying to light humming as she cooked by the stove. He thought of the way her body would mold into his whenever they were in bed, and how adorable she looked in the mornings with her sleepy eyes and bedhead. Dean was no stranger to pain. He deserved it. 

Charlie was an unexpected surprise. Her bright hair and quirky personality both soothed and pained Dean simultaneously. He found her to be a good distraction, as she was a new hunter that he had taken under his wing to train. She was a little clumsy and always questioned his authority, but Dean accepted the challenge. But he couldn’t deny the twinge of pain in his chest every time she made a corny joke, thinking about how much Y/N would like her.

The Leviathans were gone, and so was Dean’s distraction. Without any plans and strategies floating through his mind, Dean was constantly thinking about her. Cas said she had developed a routine, one full of baking, reading, and Thomas. Sam finally caved into Dean’s relentless begging and agreed to go check up on her, under one condition: Dean stayed behind. Dean was crushed that he wouldn’t be able to see her, but he was glad that at least Sam would. She always liked Sam. 

“I hope it goes well,” Dean had said and Sam offered him a smile, his eyes filled with sorrow for his brother. He nodded at Dean before walking up the metal stairs and out the bunker door. Dean wasted no time in grabbing an unopened bottle of whiskey and retiring to the library. He sank into the plush chair surrounded by books and, just like every day, Dean drank. He drank until his mind was numb and he couldn’t feel the chill that seemed to linger in the bunker. He wasn’t sure how long Sam was gone for, only noticing his return when the bunker’s large door slammed closed. He scrambled from his chair and made his way to the War Room to greet his brother. Sam stood there with containers of food and a sad smile. 

“She, uh,” Sam cleared his throat before continuing, “She insisted I bring this back.” Dean nodded, his face stoic and his lips pursed. 

“She also told me to call Cas off,” Sam started before he was interrupted with a growl from Dean.

“No! Someone needs to make sure she’s safe,” he demanded and Sam rolled his eyes. “We agreed to let me track her phone, idiot. She promised to take it with her everywhere she went and to call Cas as soon as there was any danger,” he retorted, and Dean’s shoulders slumped with relief. Sam tossed his bag onto the table, giving Dean a cryptic look, before heading off to the kitchen to put the food away. Not wanting to spend another minute without her, Dean grabbed Sam’s laptop and quickly found the small red dot that sat in Fort Collins. 

The red dot soon became Dean’s best friend, and he spent every minute with it, checking to make sure that it was still there. Sam was kind enough to allow Dean’s laptop access to her location— mostly because Sam needed his laptop for research. The little red dot moved to and from her house, sometimes going to the church down the street and other times going to another apartment. It only took a few clicks and phone calls, and several lies, to find out that Thomas lived there.

It didn’t take long for Dean to memorize her routine, finding that the little red dot followed a precise schedule. She would spend her days at home, the little red dot unmoving. He imagined her lounging around her house with her furry companion. Just after the sun had set, the little red dot would move along the streets of Fort Collins until it stopped at Thomas’. She would stay there for a few hours, always leaving before midnight. Dean couldn’t help the little sigh of relief that left him every time he saw your little red dot move back to your own house, albeit a tad ashamed by the slight joy he found in the fact that you weren’t spending the night.

Dean was enjoying his dinner, munching on fries with a beer in his hand. He was reclined in his chair, his legs on the table of the War Room. Led Zeppelin was playing softly from the computer, and Dean switched between watching the little red dot and playing Sam in Scrabble. At one point, he looked up and blinked, wondering if his eyes were playing a cruel trick on him. They were not. He scrambled out of his chair, yelling for his brother and their angel friend, both appearing in the War Room merely seconds after. The little red dot was gone.

Your head was pounding when you came to, worse than any hangover you’d ever experienced. Stale air surrounded you and it took you two seconds before remembering what had happened. 

Dead Thomas. Monster Dylan. No phone. Fuck. 

Your hands were bound to the hard chair you were sitting in, as were your legs and waist. Your head hung low as you tried to gather the strength to lift it. Through your blood-soaked, tangled hair, you observed surroundings. You were in somewhere abandoned, an old warehouse, you assumed.

Why was it always an abandoned warehouse?

There was no sign of Dylan, your eyes raking the dark building. You closed your eyes, praying to Castiel, or really any angel who could hear, to save you. When there was no flutter of wings or a beige trench coat standing in front of you, you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to concentrate on praying. 

“If you were wondering if anyone was coming to get you, they will. Just not right now,” came Dylan’s familiar drawl, and you quickly turned your head towards the sound. He emerged from a dark corner— dramatic much?— a small smirk on his face. 

“Who are you?” You asked, trying to muster as much courage as you could into your voice. He chuckled and walked towards you.

“Prince,” he said simply. When he was close enough, you spat in his face, looking at him smugly when he leaped back, cursing as he wiped his face. 

“You’ll pay for that, bitch,” he promised. 

“No, you will,” you bit back venomously. He shook his head, before pointing to your bloody arm.

“You’re warded, no angel can reach you, which means no little fluffy winged friends or the stupid Winchesters,” he laughed, and your eyes widened when you saw a strange symbol carved into your flesh. 

“What do you want?” You asked, refusing to give into the pain and fighting back your tears. 

“Revenge,” Dylan replied, and plunged a knife into your thigh. You screamed from the excruciating pain, like fire burning through your body. He laughed cruelly as he pulled the knife from your leg. Tears streamed down your face as you watched the hole in your leg stitch back together. The pain was gone and you were confused, until he stabbed your other thigh. You screamed until it healed and he repeated the process all over your body, leaving you in endless pain with no wounds to show it. 

“See,” he said, casually as he slid the blade across your cheek, “I hopped into poor old Dylan long before I met you. I was along for the ride, living life, but then you came along. And what a treat that was. At first I was going to use you as a quick fuck, a tension reliever. But when you came to dinner and you talked about your soulmate Dean and then you received a call from his brother Sam, I knew it couldn’t be a coincidence. Imagine my thrill when I saw Sam Winchester standing in your living room, and he didn’t even know who I was.

“I’ve been looking for the Winchesters, Dean specifically, for a very long time. I never cared much for my brother Azazel’s plans to spring Lucifer from the cage. But when I had heard that the Winchesters had killed him, I knew it would only be a matter of time before they came for me too.” He monologued, but you were confused. You had no idea what he was talking about. He watched as your eyebrows furrowed before he laughed.

“My, my, my it seems like your soulmate is keeping more things from you than you thought,” he smirked at you and you knew he was referring to The Incident™. You flinched, the pain still burning through your chest at the thought. 

“Are you going to kill me?” You asked, your voice hoarse from screaming. He sliced your other cheek open and you felt the warm liquid drip to your chin. 

“Not yet. I’m going to wait until they come to rescue you. I’m going to cut you up in front of him until you’re begging for release, and then I’ll kill you,” he said calmly, as if he were reading a grocery list. Your stomach turned at the thought, and you barely had time to turn your head to the side before you threw up everything you had eaten before. Your throat burned from the bile. He patted your cheek, and you winced at the pain. He gave you one more evil smile before he healed your cheeks and began the torture again. 

You had passed out from the pain, for how long, you were unsure. A hard slap to your cheek roused you. 

“Come on, pet,” Dylan cooed, “Look alive. It’s showtime.” You slowly blinked your eyes open, and when they adjusted you were staring into forest green eyes that haunted your dreams. You blinked back tears when it was evident how much pain he was in. 

“Bean?” Your shaky voice asked. He was also tied to a chair, but unlike you, his mouth was covered with duck tape. He had a cut on his cheek and his knuckles were bloody. He was straining against the ropes that held him, his muscles bulging through his sleeves, as he tried to get to you. Tears spilled down your cheeks at the sight of him struggling. 

“Dean Winchester at last,” Dylan sneered, his voice filled with hatred. Dean’s eyes were hard, and if looks could kill, Dylan would’ve been dead yesterday. 

“I’ve been waiting years for this, and now I can finally take my sweet time with you.” You could tell Dean was trying to say something, but his voice was muffled by the tape. He didn’t even flinch when Dylan ripped it off. 

“You can do whatever you want to me, just let Y/N go,” Dean bargained, but you shook your head. 

“No, please. Don’t hurt him,” you begged, tears in your eyes at the thought of losing your soulmate. Dean’s eyes snapped towards you, and they softened.  

“Sweetheart, no. This is all my fault,” he started. He opened his mouth to continue but was cut off by Dylan.

“How sweet,” he smirked, “Unfortunately, for the both of you, I already have big plans on what I’m going to do, and there’s nothing that will change my mind.” He produced his knife from the inside of his jacket with a flourish and sauntered towards you, his steps playful and light. 

“Don’t you dare touch her!” Dean’s voice bounced off the metal walls, and you shook, not out of fright but from the sheer intensity in his voice. 

Dylan was standing in front of you now, and he turned to smirk at the green-eyed hunter, flashing him a wink before turning back to you. He ran the cool blade down your cheek and to the base of your throat, pressing hard enough to draw blood. You pursed your lips together, refusing to show your pain. When he noticed, Dylan’s smile grew.

“Trying to be brave, Y/N?” He mocked. “You weren’t so brave when you were screaming before. In fact, I distinctly remember you begging me to stop.”

“You’re going to regret that,” Dean growled, but Dylan just laughed. He sliced a long vertical line down your forearm, from your shoulder to the tip of your elbow. Blood gushed from the wound and your shrill screams drowned out Dean’s shouts. Through your tear-filled eyes, you could see Dean struggling in his chair, calling out to you. Dylan made an identical slice on your other arm, reducing you to a sobbing mess. 

“What’s wrong, Y/N? You were calling out for Dean to save you before, but now that he’s here you won’t ask him to help? Or have you finally realized that he is just a useless piece of shit?” Dylan spat at your feet. 

“Dean Winchester is nothing but a coward. He thinks he’s so tough because he can stop the apocalypse, but really, he’s just a sorry excuse of a human. His soulmate is right here, and he can’t even save her,” Dylan finished with a malicious smile. 

His knife traced your collarbones from one end to the other, beads of blood immediately appearing. It soaked through the collar of your shirt and blood dripped from your fingertips. He got on his knees in front of you, and you shuddered when you felt his cool breath against your face. 

The sound of tearing fabric filled your ears as you watched him cut your top from you. Your nipples hardened as they were exposed to the open air, and you were thrashing in your seat. Dean was yelling for you, but you couldn’t hear what he was saying. Dylan’s eyes darkened with lust as he took in your exposed chest. Nausea rolled through your body in waves and you desperately wanted this to end. With the knife held against your already bleeding throat, Dylan reached out and fondled one of your breasts, tugging harshly at the nipple, and you screamed. He slapped you across the face. 

“Shut up,” Dylan demanded. There was a clinking sound, and your eyes widened in horror when you saw Dylan unbuckle his belt.

“You motherfucker, I’ll kill you!” Dean screamed, but Dylan paid him no mind. His pants fell with ease and you could already see the outline of his erection in his tight briefs. You felt sick. Dylan didn’t hesitate to pull his cock out, groaning as he pumped it swiftly. He placed the knife on the floor, out of your reach, and palmed one of your breasts as he pleasured himself. 

“Your tits are more beautiful than I imagined,” he groaned. Frozen by shock, you could do nothing but watch. He stepped closer towards you, snapping you out of your daze, and you spit at him. He chuckled and spread his legs apart, fitting your body in between. His head was dripping with precum and you could feel the sticky liquid spread on your chest as he rubbed his cock against your nipples. 

“Dean,” you sobbed, brokenly, wanting him to do something— anything— to help you. But it was useless. Dylan had both of you tied up in unbreakable knots, rendering Dean helpless as he could do nothing but watch. You screamed and thrashed as Dylan’s cold fingers pressed against your body. His hand wrapped around your throat, effectively cutting your breath supply off, squeezing until you saw stars. 

When he finally pulled away, you barely had the chance to catch your breath before there was a searing pain in your stomach. Every inch of the knife cut through you like a thousand blades. Dylan didn’t care about your screams or cries for help, nor did he mind Dean’s death threats. He hummed happily as he carved away at your body. Finally, the pain stopped. Dylan stepped away from your body and your head hung, exhausted from the pain.

“Do you like my work?” Dylan asked, as he turned to face Dean, but his smile slipped from his face when all he saw was an empty chair. You raised your head at the sound of bodies colliding only to find Dylan on the floor while Dean pounded his fists into the demon’s face. The pain in your stomach was unbearable, and your body was heavy, but you had to take advantage of Dylan’s incapacitation while you had the chance. 

You spotted a glint of silver out of the corner of your eye, and your eyes narrowed in on the small blade that sat on the floor next to you. It was too far for you to reach, but you clenched your teeth as you rocked the chair until it was on its side, the impact of the floor against your cut arms leaving an excruciating pain. Your fingers reached for the blade in front of you, and with nimble fingers, you cut through the ropes, each movement costing you more and more energy. 

After your first arm was free, a wave of adrenaline and hope rushed through you, and your second arm was liberated in no time. Your legs were easier to release, as you didn’t have any cuts that caused you pain as you wriggled out of the tight ropes. You tried to stand, but you buckled over from the pain in your stomach. In your peripheral vision, you could see Dean and Dylan fighting, their silhouettes moving faster than lightning. 

You grabbed your discarded shirt and you pressed it to your stomach, hoping the pressure would help. All it did was soak your shirt with blood. You pulled it away from your body and looked at the wound, hoping to come up with something better, but when you saw the cuts on your stomach, you stopped. Your head went fuzzy at the angry letters staring back at you. You swayed on your feet, and distinctly remember seeing Sam’s tall body rush into the warehouse, a shorter man in a suit on his heels, before you blacked out. 

Taglist: @akshi8278 @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @lanea-1 @slamminmine  

[ao3feed-destiel-02]

Lightkeeper O' Mine

Lightkeeper O' Mine https://ift.tt/DdMgf26 by S1nging_Y0u_S0ftly To the northern most part of Ireland, one can find a little Island by the name of Inishtrahull. There you can see a lighthouse that has stood tall for decades, and for many years have it's keepers operated it's guiding light, bringing sailors and the like home safe. The 10th increment of keepers, by the name of Dean Winchester, is a myth of a man. Aloof, hardly ever seen outside of the little cabin he resides in that's right beside the lighthouse he haunts. The only proof of his existence is the shining light of the beacon coming to life every night. Dean Winchester thought he had made peace with himself. But a poet by the name C. Novak had left him restless, wondering where his life was leading to. So when a dark shadow walks the foot of his beach, Dean feels the landscape of Inishtrahull he had come to know changing like the shifting the tides. All with a single view of a cloaked stranger, one he plans never to learn the name of, no matter how Dean's heart thaws throughout his visit. Words: 33623, Chapters: 5/5, Language: English Fandoms: Supernatural (TV 2005) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: M/M Characters: Castiel (Supernatural), Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Bobby Singer (Supernatural), Benny Lafitte, Garth Fitzgerald IV, Bess Fitzgerald, Pamela Barnes (Supernatural), John Winchester, Mary Winchester, Gabriel (Supernatural) Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - 1950s, Lighthouse Keeper Dean Winchester, Poet Castiel (Supernatural), Ireland, Like A Small Island On Ireland, Pining, Emotionally Repressed Dean Winchester, Past Character Death, Dean Winchester Needs a Hug, Slow Burn, Storms, Angst with a Happy Ending, Strangers to Lovers, Childhood Trauma, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, All the Taylor Swift references, Dean writes poetry, Found Family, Lonely Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Dean Winchester is Loved, Dean Winchester Has Self-Worth Issues, so much pining via AO3 works tagged 'Castiel/Dean Winchester' https://ift.tt/z90Eoxv September 21, 2023 at 08:07AM

[silverfacedherald]

Castiel is a wayward son too, and we have had the privilege to see him carry on for ten years now.

~

Last chance for me to say it: happy anniversary, Castiel and Misha Collins.

To Castiel, who’s gone through so much, accomplished many feats, and continues to learn and grow everyday. There aren’t enough words to describe how much this nerdy little angel, this bamf, this member of Team Free Will, and wayward son means to me.

To Misha Collins, for Castiel and Supernatural would not be the same without. He is the reason why Supernatural is still going strong, why Castiel can have ten years instead of three episodes. There is also not enough words to describe how good of an actor, activist, and overall human being this man is and how much of an inspiration he is to me.

Happy ten years of Castiel, everyone.

Carry On