#king!dean

[kingdumbass]

my contribution to this year's @deancashorrorfest art made by me for @kayliemalinza 's fic Oubliette's of Stone and Sky Note: This round of DeanCas Horrorfest was a reverse bang, but Kaylie was unable to claim and decided to write their own story instead and I offered to pinch hit for them so all credit for the story idea goes to them. This story touched upon a lot of medieval imagery, between the feudal system, decaying kingdoms, and Dean's sense of obligatory nobility. I wanted to conjure that sense of medieval fantasy that's inherent to the story and combine it with the dark atmosphere of an impending doom. I wish I'd offered to pinch hit sooner, so that I'd have more time to create some world-building art, but I hope these two pieces will suffice. Everyone go check it out! It's a fun read!

[markofcastiel]

His Majesty, Dean Winchester

~~Jensen as King Bacchus inspired this~~

"May I enquire: what are you doing?"

Dean almost startles at the deep voice that suddenly comes from behind him. He turns around to face steely blue eyes, and ends up with his mouth slightly parted despite no excuse slipping out. Impala just neighs fondly at the familiar face and scratches her hoof on the soft earth, clearly not catching on to her owner's worry. Dean, on the other hand, looks like a servant boy who was caught stealing fruitcake from the royal kitchens:

"Huh... 's not what you think, Cas."

Castiel, as mysteriously foreign as always, just tilts his head with a deep frown. His silver armor clinks with the movement and gleams bright under the dawning sun, as strong and imposing as the Knight wearing it. Dean catches himself swallowing dryly and staring at the symbol which is so boldly embrazoned on the chest - a large winged lion, the Winchester's family crest. Castiel always wears it so proudly, so decisively, even though he had been born in an enemy nation. Dean never had to ask to know that Castiel never wore Queen Naomi's crest so proudly.

"Is that so?" Castiel's voice thunders once again, deep and guttural like a sea storm. The First Knight of the King's Guard always takes his duty too seriously, and he is clearly not letting Dean get away with his folly.

"Because it would seem Your Majesty is packing his horse and preparing to embark on a journey alone, while disguised as a poor man. Alas, the only thing poor about your attire is its ability to fool anyone."

Dean is a little offended at the jab on his disguise skills but quickly relents, "ok, so... maybe it's exactly what you think."

"My Lord," Castiel begins as he comes closer and Dean is already sighing, "if you want to partake in a small journey, I would gladly consent."

A little voice inside Dean's head that sounds far too much like John Winchester points out that no knight should ever dare imply the King needs consent for anything. But that's what he had always liked about Cas, how sometimes he's like an unstoppable force that cares for no rank, for no rule, and simply does what he deems is right and fair. So Dean shuts the voice down, and settles for looking at Castiel with suspicion.

"But...?"

"But you must take the King's Guard with you."

Dean groans in frustration, finally pulling down the tattered hood he had put on in an attempt to remain unrecognizable. "That's not the point of all this, Cas."

Castiel's frown hardens, but he listens attentively regardless as Dean presses on:

"The point of this entire thing is... I dunno. I wanna- I wanna see how my people are living, if they are happy and well fed, iff they truly bless me as their ruler... and I sure as hell can't do that with a whole parade with me."

Impala starts to get slightly antsy and nervous at the commotion, so Dean huffs to himself and tries to calm down. For the first time, his eyes look away from Castiel's and he focuses on Impala, gently patting her long, soft snout and whispering reassurances before he turns back towards his Knight.

"I just... need to know, Cas. And I'll never know for sure if I go as their King..."

Dean can't help the moisture starting to gather in his eyes, but he manages to keep it from falling down his cheeks.

"Even you are treating me differently since the coronation." Dean knew those were the rules. A Knight can't address the King by name, can't reach out to touch a King's shoulder, can't tell a King what an idiot he's being. It still hurt beyond what Dean could describe. "So how can I expect the people to be honest if they recognize me as their King? They know my father would have taken their heads off for even daring to breathe in his direction."

"Dean..." Castiel's voice is suddenly soft, all too kind and loving, and Dean hates it desperately because it exposes all his weaknesses. It has been so long since Cas had spoken his name that his heart starts beating as wildly and he's weak to his knees.

He's not going to lie - it had been fun at first, seeing Cas suddenly calling him Majesty and Lord with that proud smirk. But once the novelty wore off, Dean craved for a moment like this, of blue eyes dawning on him as the sun breaches the horizon, his name dripping from Castiel's lips like was a treasure, a prayer, a hush of something profound and secret and deeply forbidden... like Dean was important just because he was Dean, Castiel's best friend. Not because he was King Dean Winchester of Lawrence.

Dean wants to reach out, to apologize, but every single lesson that had been ground into him traps his throat shut - a king doesn't ask for permission, a king doesn't apologize, a king is a mountain that no mortal can reach. As always, there is an abyss of distance between them. So Dean simply shrugs, something endlessly sad and lonely in the motion.

"I understand your reasons, my Lord. I just can't let you risk your life. You mean so much to so many people." Castiel comes closer still, and his hand hesitates but then gains a brazen courage, daring to touch the King's shoulder without a care if it's proper. "You mean so much to me. It's only because of your kindness that I have learned to be kind. It's because I have seen you caring so much for this realm, that I cared. Dean, I-"

They are interrupted by the sound of the stable door opening wide and the sight of Jack, the stable boy, running out, harrumphed and panicked. He looks exactly like someone who just woke up, found his Majesty's favored mount gone, and thought he'd have his head decapitated if he didn't find the horse soon. It comes as no surprise that, as soon as he sees the Impala standing peacefully next to the King, the boy heaves a giant sigh of relief before realizing he had interrupted something. He excuses himself awkwardly and retreats back into the stables but the moment is already gone.

With the adrenaline lost, Dean finally starts to feel the crispness of the morning air. He shivers in his too thin clothes, the cold seeping into his bones. He feels stupid, almost ridiculous. Even though Winter was creeping in he was wearing sparse clothing - nothing much aside from trousers, a hemp shirt and the thin hooded robe that, despite old and tattered, was clearly made out of expensive material. In his haste, he had prepared no rations, nor water.

Castiel was right. He was fooling no one.

Dean knew how to fling a sword like a second limb, how to kill without mercy, how to lay a death sentence as easily as a mug of ale, how to reign supreme and unwavering - all the things father had taught him, drilled and beaten into him until they were unquestionable truths. But now John Winchester was gone. And Dean didn't know anything about the world, or of the people. He couldn't dress properly by himself, much less pass off as a peasant. If he didn't die of the cold or the sickness than he'd certainly end up being discovered.

Yet he's somehow supposed to believe he can properly take care of the whole kingdom?

His mind grinds to an halt when he feels a warm cape wrap around him, followed by a pair of arms pulling him in. The hug isn't exactly comfortable against all the metal plating but Dean still melts into it, into the safety of Castiel's arms. A rough, calloused hand caresses the nape of his neck and Dean leans into it, letting himself savour that endless pool of loyalty and devotion.

"You're freezing," Castiel whispers and though Dean can tell it's not chiding, he still feels like a child who doesn't know better.

"I'm a fool..." Dean mutters and Castiel chuckles at first but then Dean is burying his head on his shoulder and his voice sounds so faraway and vulnerable that Cas stops smiling. "I can't do it, Cas. It's too big. I'm not strong enough. Father knew it too. I just followed his orders... I just did what he told me. How 'm I supposed to look after them all?"

That is when Castiel sharply pulls away, looking surprisingly angry.

"Dean Winchester of Lawrence, do not dare compare yourself to your father."

His fingers grip Dean's shoulders almost too hard but Dean doesn't fight it, and just stares at his Knight with eyes wide.

"While he waged war, you made peace. While his people starved to make weapons of death and lay waste to the land, your people have bountiful harvests with the new irrigation systems you designed, and they will trade with the roads you commissioned and learn arts and music with the schools you are building. Even your orphans and your poor have homes. You are above your father in any manner, shape or form. You love with all your being. Trust that your people know, just as I do, what a truly benevolent and kind ruler you are. Trust that they know you are the best King that anyone could hope for."

Dean's eyes are shiny with unshed tears, yet he simply turns his face away. "Yeah, right."

That makes Castiel grow all the angrier and resolute. "So be it. If you don't believe my words, I will make you see it for yourself."

They'll do this, but they'll do it Castiel's way.

"Come with me, My King."

Photo source (x)

[stonelions]

i was thinking the other day how we tend to draw cas and dean (correctly tbh) like

but in doing so we are betraying another fundamental dynamic of theirs which is more like,

[mischieviem]

What could have been 😔

[secretsoftheuniverse1987]

Thinking about how Dean Winchester was an atheist before he got caught up in the biblical apocalypse because in his mind, the two possible realities were an absent God and a cruel one. Thinking about him learning God was real and he had a Plan for him. Thinking about how that robbed him of his faith that a God wouldn't be capable of such cruelty. Thinking about how quickly he came to put his faith in Cas, despite his distrust of the divine. Thinking about The Man Who Would Be King. Thinking about Dean's only on-screen prayer to God being a plea to "bring him back."

[hufflepuffheaven]

will never stop thinking abt how the man who would be king is such a destiel centric episode like dean defended cas to bobby and sam until he absolutely couldn’t and was in so much pain thinking about them accusing cas of working with crowley behind his back but also worried that the angel he has a profound bond with was turning against them. he wanted so badly for what they felt to be true to be wrong because it meant he would lose his best friend and the angel he secretly had feelings for YOU CAN JUST SEE IT ON HIS FACE !!!

and don’t even get me started on castiel’s narration of this episode - he talks so much about how dean has changed him and feels the worst about his betrayal because of his bond with dean. LIKE DESTIEL IS IN THE DETAILS COMMMMEONNNN !!!

[bitterkarella]

Midnight Pals: Omens

Arkasha Stevenson: submitted for the approval of the midnight society, i call this the tale of the first omen Stevenson: it's about a plot to breed the antichrist King: wait this sounds familiar Stevenson: yeah it's based on The Omen King: no that's not it

King: wait! i've got it! King: this is totally ripping off Good Omens! King: it's the same set up! Lovecraft: you're right! even the name is similar! Barker: wow, i hope someone gets fired for THAT blunder

King: neil! Neil! did you know that the omen is ripping off your book? Neil Gaiman: steve, good omens is a parody of the omen King: King: what Gaiman: i mean, even the name is similar Gaiman: that should have been a clue

Gaiman: you must understand, steve, that once the omen was the biggest thing in horror Gaiman: we believed its grip on man's imagination would last the ages! But alas... it is forgotten! Gaiman: forgotten like the fading filaments of a dream in the morning light! King: oh ok

Gaiman: now, like the great ozymandias,king of kings, memory of the omen has scattered to the howling winds of the glittering desert of oblivion Gaiman: and like prometheus the titan of old my torment knows no bounds Koontz: neil! did you know the first omen ripped off your book?

Gaiman: no young dean for you see the omen actually predates good omens Koontz: huh? but it just came out! Gaiman: no see the original omen came our before the good omens book Koontz: original omen? book? Koontz: i don't understand

Mary Shelley: sup fuckers Shelley: so neil i hear they ripped off your book Gaiman: no i Shelley: i'd be real pissed if someone ripped off my book Gaiman: they didn't Shelley: i'd give em one of these [pantomimes shivving]

Gaiman: please! no one ripped off good omens Barker: oh they definitely ripped off good omens Poe: seems pretty obvious, yeah Gaiman: edgar! he's just stirring up shit! Gaiman: you know that! Gaiman: why are you believing him now? Poe: no he's right, it's an open and shut case

Neil Gaiman: it's not a rip off! good omens was literally an omen parody! Gaiman: if you won't believe me, ask terry! Terry Pratchett: hey is anyone hungry? i could really go for some soup right now

[t00muchheart]

do you understand?? dean winchester, trained since he was a child to hone & trust his instincts and be suspicious of the world because it was dangerous fought against those instincts and against bobby and sam’s belief that cas was working against them because he wanted SO BADLY to believe in cas, he cared SO MUCH about his friend and chose to put his faith in him do you understand how wild that is ??

[the-mpreg-guy]

the hill that i will die on is that cas would have never said he loved dean if he had to deal with the consequences of it afterwards, meanwhile dean (who was SUPPOSED to tell cas he loved him in the original crypt scene script) would have eventually worked up to saying it without external pressure

[sweetm0uringlamb]

‘the one in the dirty trenchcoat who’s in love with you’ tell it how it is balthazar

[shanastoryteller]

The day his deal comes due, Sam goes missing.

Dean tells himself it’s nothing, that he’s gotten caught up in some research, some last ditch, hail mary nonsense and that he’s just turned his phone off and everything’s fine, that he wouldn’t do something stupid, that he wouldn’t break his promise.

He tells himself that for the first two minutes after he cracks his eyes open and sees the empty bed across from him, and the first time his call goes straight to voicemail, and not much after that. Sam’s broken his promises over things significantly less important to him than his brother’s life.

Dean is dressed and in the Impala five minutes later, heart thudding wildly in his chest. He calls Bobby, Ellen, everyone he can think of, but none of them have heard from Sam, none of them have eyes on him. Sam was with him last night, even if he boosted a car, there’s only so far he can get.

He keeps calling, keep searching, desperate to stop whatever he’s trying to do, to find him, to see his brother one last time before he’s dragged to hell. To make sure Sam is going to be okay after he’s dragged to hell. But the hours tick down, the sun sets, and he can’t find a trace of him. He’s so exhausted and heart sick that when he goes to call Sam again it takes him a long time to read the number on his phone, eyes swimming, the time not making any sense.

1:03

That’s not possible.

That’s not –

His phone rings, blocking out the time with Bobby’s name across the screen, and he answers it but his throat is too thick to say anything.

“Dean?” Bobby says tentatively. “Are you – I got an email from Sam. It just said, I mean, did–“

“What did it say, Bobby?” he asks, even though he’s sure he knows.

Bobby sucks in a breath at his voice, because he knows just as well as Dean that he should be screaming in hell right now, not answering his phone. “To take care of you.”

Dean drops the phone, hears Bobby still talking as he grips the wheel and presses his forehead against the back of his hands. This is what he’d been afraid of. This is why he hadn’t wanted to mess with the deal in first place. This is the one thing he’d begged Sam not to do.

It's easy to find a crossroad.

The demon is laughing at him when it shows up, wicked grin in a pretty face. “That didn’t take you long, boy.”

It’s a different demon than the one he delt with, obviously, but Dean figures they all know the same shit, since demons are a bunch of gossips. “This wasn’t the deal. My brother lives and I die.”

“You traded your soul for your brother’s life,” she corrects, so amused by all this that all he wants to do is kill her, to exorcise her, to make her scream. “Just like your father traded his for yours. There’s no reason Sammy can’t make his own trade. Man, but is your family fucked up. Maybe if you’d just settled down like little Sammy wanted, you wouldn’t all be bargaining for each other’s lives like haggling at a flea market.”

“Untrade it,” he snaps. “My soul for him alive, come on, no year, no waiting, you bring him back and take me to hell right now.”

She laughs in his face. “You don’t have anything to bargain with, boy.”

“My soul,” he repeats, “That’s what this is about, isn’t?”

“Oh, it’s what it’s all about,” she says. “But Sammy’s a clever boy. You know that, don’t you? He didn’t trade his soul for your life, he didn’t have to. You didn’t die. No, he traded it for your soul. Sorry, honey, but your credits been declined.”

At first he doesn’t understand. Sam traded his soul for Dean’s, exactly, so there’s no reason he can’t trade it right back. Then he gets it.

She sees the exact moment it clicks, the moment despair and horror sweep across his face too quickly for him to stop them. “That’s right. Little brother owns your soul now. For some reason he didn’t think you’d take proper care of it. You have it because that’s where he wants it, but no one will be making any deals with you, Dean Winchester. You can’t sell a soul you don’t own.”

“You can’t,” he has to clear his throat, “you can’t just come in and change things at the eleventh hour-”

“Eleventh hour?” she interrupts. “Sammy made his deal eleven months ago.”

His mouth is so dry he can’t speak.

“Isn’t it funny?” she asks, head cocked to the side. “All this time, the deal he’s been trying to get out of wasn’t yours, but his own. Maybe the two of you might have even managed it, except you just wouldn’t help, would you? Insisting that he not research, that he not look for a way out, and he spent so much time trying to convince you, coaxing you to talk about your feelings when he knew you were safe, all he because he thought it would make you feel better when he was gone, because he couldn’t tell you the truth and talk about how scared he was, so talking about your fear was as close as he could get.”

Dean’s going to be sick. “Don’t – please, please, I’ll give you anything-”

“You don’t have anything,” she says, gleeful. “You want to know why I agreed? The thing that made it just too delicious to refuse? Sammy’s down there, just starting in on an eternity of torture, and all he has to do get out of it is give up your soul. It’s his, after all, and he can put the original deal back in place any time he chooses. Just one moment of weakness on his end and his beloved big brother will be on the rack instead.” She sighs happily. “It’s almost as good as anything we’re doing to him down there, the knowledge that if he slips up for even a moment then it would all be for nothing. I couldn’t have found a way to twist the knife deeper if I tried.”

There’s vomit crawling its way up his throat and he has to swallow it down before he can speak. “I can’t – I’ll do whatever you want, please, there has to be something.”

She leans forward, cruelty and delight shining in her eyes. “The only thing you can do is what you’ve been telling your precious baby brother to do for the past year. Accept it. Move on. Live a good life so his sacrifice isn’t in vain.”

God. How can she – how can Sammy expect him to –

He’s doubling over, finally upchucking what little he’s ate today, and he’s dry heaving on the dirt when he hears the fading sound of her laughter.

This can’t be real. This has to be Hell, he has to be in it right now. He has to be.

[sailorsally]

Sometimes I remember that Dean Winchester canonically has a gay man's heart. It was a deliberate choice. To give Dean the heart of a gay man. And it happened in season fucking ONE.

[katherinehoughtoncastle47]

9.04 - SLUMBER PARTY

[stonelions]

starting to think dean's perception of cas as a weird, dorky, little guy is in fact a protection mechanism that he fired off subconsciously to shield himself from his otherwise mind-breaking attraction to a man wearing a beige trenchcoat & sensible shoes

[mischieviem]

Had a dumb thought anyways

[spn-rewatch-ventzone]

I love that Sam and Dean are torturing an angel by bullying him. Most Winchester thing ever.

Not to mention the camera angle making it feel like they are bullying the viewer, too. This is the most authentic supernatural experience

You just know Jensen and Jared had fun with this one