#archangel!dean

[ponyxaviors]

Supernatural Request

Can we all agree to collectively mis-remember the fight scene between Dean and Lucifer?

It happened on the ground, and it was awesome.

[migglangelus]

Title: Blue is the Colour of the Sky

[Link to fic]

Category: M/M

Fandom: Supernatural

Relationship: Castiel/Dean Winchester

Summary: The Archangel Michael used to be heaven's greatest weapon until he was trapped in the human world. Powerful sigils bound him and seals away most of his powers and memories. Going only with his new name: Dean, he struggles to return to his home, and most importantly to remember something or someoneassociated with a color he barely remembers: Blue 

This was my other DCRB that I worked on alongside @magicknightriderjellyfish !

I simply adore this fanfic that’s been created by such a talented author; it hurts your feels so good and contains a lot of my favourite things! 

I’m such a sucker for Michael!Dean and I drew this before it came canon. In this fic Dean and Michael are the same person so theirs no possession <3

I really hope you like this lil AU!

[controloffandoms]

When tumblr is your life, but you realize too late that some of the gifs are spoilers to episodes you didn’t watch yet.

Fucking Archangel!Dean

[raspberrytummytickles]

Understanding Bellybuttons

Title: Understanding Bellybuttons Fandom: Supernatural (Reverse!Verse) Characters: Sam (angel), Gabriel (hunter), mentioned!Hunter!Cas, mentioned!Archangel!Dean Summary: Ticklish!Sam; Sam doesn’t understand the purpose of having a bellybutton. Gabe decides to show him how much fun having one it. Dedicated to @xxxperfectly-imperfectxxx

A/N: Heyyo! Here’s a new little ficy fic! This is Reverse!Verse with Angel!Sam, Archangel!Dean and Hunter Gabe and Cas. Hope you enjoy it! For @xxxperfectly-imperfectxxx for all the support! THANK YOU ENJOY!!!

Gabriel was significantly bored out of his mind. His younger brother, Cas, was out on a food run with his angel buddy, Dean. The only reason the Archangel was following Cas was because his little brother still couldn’t get the right kind of pie Dean wanted but that might just be on purpose. Gabriel wasn’t alone though, he mused as he eyes found the other rooms occupant.

Samuel was an unusual angel. And the two brothers stories were quite extraordinary and always fascinates Gabe when he made Sam tell him. Sam was watching with vague interest some random movie on t.v. while Gabe finished last minute research for their current hunt.

“I don’t understand,” Sam’s voice trailed over to Gabe from across the room. Said hunter took a look on what was happening and snorted. The man on t.v. had the woman wrapped in his arms, fingers dancing over her belly as she giggled. This of course led to other events but Gabriel mainly focused on the cute puppy confused head tilt Sam had going. “Is it humorous when her stomach was prodded?”

“It’s called being ticklish, Sammoose,” Gabe explained as he moved, sitting next to the angel. “She happened to be ticklish on her belly.”

“Ticklish?” Sam mumbled, eyes drawn in confusion. “I do not understand. Explain.”

“C'mon! You can’t tell me Dean-o never tickled you! It’s, like, big brother code and stuff!”

“Maybe it’s a different word in enochian,” Sam shrugged—the one human gesture he captured perfectly. “We do not have tickling but we have something similar. I do not believe I have ever been-eh…tickled in my vessel.”

“Huh,” Gabe blinked, lips quirked in amusement.

“I do not understand why you need these, though,” Sam pulled up his shirt and revealed his lithe waist with a beautiful tone of tan abs. Gabriel stared a bit longer than necessary and shook his head.

“Sorry, what’s not necessary?”

“This little hole,” Sam poked his bellybutton lightly. “It does nothing for me so I do not see its point in being here.”

“Well it can be used for a lot of things,” Gabe tries, rubbing the back of his neck in thought. “Oh! It can be used for tickling too!”

“How can a little hole be ticklish?”

“Want me to show you?”

Sam stared at Gabe and Gabe stared right back, eyebrows raised in expectation. Sam narrowed his eyes slightly before giving a swift nod. Gabriel beamed and pushed Sam so he was lying full length of the couch, moving his feet to rest on the arm of the other end. Gabe pushed Sam’s shirt up more and gently rubbed the smooth skin of Sam’s tummy.

Sam let out a gasp before humming, looking like a pleased cat with that little turn of his lips. Gabe chuckled and focused on the adorable little innie.

“So first, I’m just gonna trace around it okay and work my way in, that good?”

“Alright…I guess?” Sam muttered, watching with slight interest as Gabriel used his pointer finger and dragged it around his vessels bellybutton. A small tingling sensation jolted through Sam at the light touches, a gaspy breath escaping him. Sam’s hips twitched and his belly gave a small quiver.

“Seems to be at least a little ticklish,” Gabe teased softly, grinning at Sam’s reaction.

“I-I believe it m-might be.”

Gabriel turned his finger a little and moved closer to the small hole, his nail catching the rim of Sam’s bellybutton.

“Ah!” Sam yelped, watching with now slight trepidation. “Aha! Oh!”

Gabe smiled when Sam tried sucking his belly in, not doing anything to deter Gabe.

“Maybe it’s a lot ticklish. What'dya think, Sammitch?”

Sam let out a few other yelps when Gabes nails caught to rim of Sam’s bellybutton again, not replying to Gabe’s teasing. Gabriel lightly moved inwards, tickling the walls with his nail and gently scratching the smooth skin. Sam burst into adorable giggles, Gabriel wasn’t even aware Sam could make. The angel’s hips twisted and a grin was on his normally stoic face.

“Ahaha! Gahabe! Whahahat ihihs hahahappening?”

“Your bellybutton is ticklish so you’re reacting to it getting tickled. Do you like it?”

“I-I dohoho nohot knohohow.”

Gabe chuckled and swirled his finger around, not digging in just yet but twisting his digit and playfully wiggling it, also wiggling the slight pudge of Sam’s tummy.

“That’s adorable.”

“Hehehe ihihit feheheels ohohodd!”

“I bet it does,” Gabe teased, finally digging into the belly hollow. Sam arched, unknowingly driving the finger further in and let out a strangled laugh. The hard tickling inside his bellybutton had Sam in stitches immediately, cute noises of protest escaping him.

If Sam wanted to, he could of thrown Gabe off him and they wouldn’t have to bring it up again. Instead, he was gripping the sides of the couch, watching with fascination and uncertainty at the finger prodding his bellybutton. He couldn’t believe something so small could have this big a reaction of him.

“Gahahabe!”

“Yes?”

“Ihihit tihihickles!”

“I can see that.”

“Whahahahy?” Sam giggled, hips arching up and rocking back and forth, especially when Gabe wiggled his finger as fast as he could. “Nahahaha!”

“Because of nerves or something,” Gabe shrugged, pulling his finger out. “This normally drives Cassie crazy and works effectively on cute little bellybuttons,” Gabe tweaked Sam’s when he spoke, smiling at the honest to God little squeak.

Taking a deep breath, Gabriel put a huge raspberry right on Sam’s bellybutton.

“WAHAHAHAIT!” Sam cried, a huge screech escaping him. Gabe placed three more right on that spot, relishing in the cute joyful laughter flowing out of the angels mouth. “NOHOHO!”

Gabe pulled back and smirked at a panting Sam. The kid giggled and looked up at Gabe with amusement.

“Normally, Sam, when you have a cute little ticklish bellybutton, the rest of your tummy is ticklish too,” Gabe smirked, a small scale tickle attack launched on Sam’s exposed sides and ribs. Sam shrieked with laughter, using all his will not to push Gabe away and possibly hurt him. Gabe blew raspberries on Sam’s belly while tickling his flanks and squeezing his hips.

“GAHAHABE AHAHAHA STOHOHOP!”

“Stop? Are you sure you want me too? Do you now see why humans have bellybuttons are? Why they have their purpose?”

“YEHEHES! AHAHAHA I GEHEHET IHIHIT! AHAHEHEHE!”

Gabe sighed but complied with the begging angel. Sam gulped in huge breathes and let out residue giggles and wiggles. He looked at his slightly pink tummy and the happy grin on Gabe’s face.

“S-Soho the u-uhuse of the behellybuhutton is a tohoture device fohor oholder sihiblings.”

Gabe barked out a laugh and ruffled Sam’s hair. The angel huffed, sitting up with light pink cheeks and a relaxed smile. The door to their motel room opened and Cas stumbled in with three different bags. Dean strolled in as well, watching Cas struggle with a smirk. Sam turned to Gabe and grinned wickedly.

“I bet it works just as well on big brothers.”

Gabriel winced at Sam’s look, knowing that Dean didn’t even have a chance.

~Fin~

[jinxedambitions]

How a Winchester Got His Wings

Cas sat across from his father. He could feel the power rolling off his father’s vessel. How he hadn’t realized that Chuck Shurley was his father...Cas would forever berate himself for it. It was unmistakable now. Even with the five o’clock shadow and the stained clothes.

Cas had hunted his father down—successfully this time—not for a grand purpose but for a selfish one. Perhaps that’s why he’d found him this time. His father knew the motives of those who sought him after all.

Dean didn’t know Cas had been searching tirelessly for his father for years now. Every night he watched his lover fall asleep, then he searched through the dark hours.

Dean was getting older. Years of hard living wore him thin long before his time. Even his strong spirit couldn’t fight the weathering of age. Castiel had much power, but not even an Angel of the Lord could grant immortality.  

Cas had told himself for years that even a finite amount of time with Dean would be enough, but it had been a lie. No amount of time would ever be enough. Castiel had pieced Dean’s soul together with his own grace. To lose Dean would be his end.

So, Cas has searched tirelessly with the most selfish purpose. His time was short though. Dean was sick. His memory fading, body withering. It was only a matter of time before Castiel was left alone.

But here he sat across from his father whose vessel had not aged a day since they last crossed paths. Neither had Castiel’s body—save for the wear of several human months—and it brought back memories of a different time. There was so much anger that Cas could hurl at his father for the abandonment he and his siblings had faced, for the apocalypse come and gone, but Castiel could only think of Dean.

“He’s dying, Father,” Castiel said, tracing the grain of the wooden table. “I do not know why I thought time would slow for us. It was foolish, but I was in love. I’m told that makes men foolish. I suppose the same goes for angels.”

Castiel couldn’t look at Chuck. It was so strange to revisit that time. So strange to see a familiar, understanding face when he felt so alone in this.

“This is why angels and humans were not meant to love each other.” Chuck’s voice was even the same. There was nothing almighty about it, but it was still Him.

“You told us to love them.”

“But they were never to know of you—”

“He’s not just one of them, Father. He’s given everything for this world. He’s given everything for you,” Cas insisted.

Chuck shrugged. 

“What do you want from me, Castiel? If I give in to your wishes, then what of all the others? What about when Gabriel wants to cause mayhem? What about when—”

“I don’t know. All I know is I’ve wasted so many nights looking for you, hoping you could make this better. I’ve lost so many nights at his side.” Castiel looked at his hands. Hands that didn’t originally belong to him but to another. They were the only hands that he’d ever touched Dean with, and he would never take another vessel because of that.

“You should go home to him then, Castiel.” Chuck’s voice made his father’s words less harsh, but the denial was there all the same.

Castiel looked into his father’s eyes for the first time then. Even before he’d left them, Castiel had never been in his father’s presence. He looked at him and through the so called windows to the soul, and he waited. He waited for that profound moment of awe, but it never came. He wondered if it was he that was defective.

“You’re right, I should because he’s the only one that’s never let me down. I should never have gone looking for an answer when it was always right in front of me,” Castiel said, and he was gone.

He stood in the corner of the room he shared with Dean. Dean’s breathing rasped in his chest as he slept. Castiel walked to him and took his hand which rested on the top of the comforter. He used his grace to ease Dean’s pain, but short of witchcraft, there was little more he could do for him now.

Castiel went to prepare Dean’s breakfast as the sun rose. He brought the eggs and bacon to the bed, and Dean was already sitting up.

“I was dreaming of how we met,” Dean said, pausing to cough several times.

“I was already in awe of you then. The Righteous Man,” Castiel told him fondly. It hadn’t been the smoothest start, but it had been memorable. It was something Dean never forgot even as his memory faded more and more.

Dean laughed which became a hacking cough, but he pushed Cas’ hands away when he tried to steady Dean. “I remember your wings.”

“They were only shadows to you.”

“They were still impressive,” Dean told him with a ghost of his old charming smile.

When Dean finished pushing his food around his plate and pretending he hand an appetite, he sent Cas back to the kitchen with the tray while he dressed himself.

Castiel was scraping the eggs into the trash when he heard the thud. He flew into the bedroom in a flash to find Dean’s body limp on the bed, Castiel’s father beside him pressing one of Chuck Shurley’s fingers to Dean’s forehead.

Castiel opened his mouth to ask what was going on when he felt it. His father was giving Dean his grace. 

Now, Castiel felt awe as he looked at his father. He felt immense fear and power as he watched his father create a celestial being before his very eyes. His own grace responded, being drawn into the room. There was so much power here that Castiel felt the whole house shake, windows rattling.

Dean’s eyes snapped open, glowing, and they looked at Cas.

His father wasn’t just saving Dean. He wasn’t just creating another angel. Castiel realized that He had created an archangel.

Chuck’s hand fell away as Dean sat up. Castiel could see his wings stretch out beyond his physical body, and Cas had never seen something so beautiful. Dean’s vessel shed the wear of age until the man Castiel had first met sat before him, and it took Cas’ breath away.

“Cas?” Dean asked, gripping the comforter. 

“Yes Dean?”

“They’re so much more beautiful than I’d ever imagined,” Dean told him, clearly looking at Castiel’s own wings.

“Yours are beautiful too,” Cas told him.

Dean turned to look at their father then, studying him carefully. “Why?” he asked, though Cas thought it might be more for his own good than Dean’s.

“You were right Castiel. He’s given so much, and so many of my children have been lost. A new guardian is needed, an archangel with power but who knows the worth of humanity and love,” He said before disappearing in the blink of an eye.

Castiel looked at Dean, stepping into the room. Dean watched him approach.

“This is why you disappeared at night?” Dean asked.

“I wasn’t ready to lose you,” Castiel told him, kneeling on the bed with him.

“I thought you couldn’t stand to see me anymore as I deteriorated.”

“I’ve never been able to take my eyes off you. Never will,” Castiel said, taking Dean’s hand.

“Now, you’ll never have to,” Dean told him, pulling Cas to himself.

“I love you,” Castiel told him. “I’ve loved you from the moment I found you in the pit.”

“I remember it all now. I can feel your grace still a part of me now, and I’ll love you until the end of time,” Dean promised, pulling Castiel in and kissing him.

Castiel felt his faith restored in Dean’s embrace. 

[transdreamsicle]

for highermagic because she's got a Michael fetish ;]

Michael felt the pull of his brother's longing first, heavy and warm. Dean's love was distinct for how thick it felt. Almost human. Perhaps that was why he used a human name instead of the crown their Father had given as a gift. Even Gabriel, as rebellious and absent as he was, hadn't forsaken that gift. But Decanus, he needed a new name. He needed quite a bit, and Michael was always too happy to give whatever was asked of him. Dean had that affect. 

The desire pulled at his halo and made his wings twitch restlessly. He had last watch over the gates, and he couldn't leave until the shift switch. Heaven was built on order.

A slow, burning warmth spread up from the base of his neck, filling his head with the sound of angelic prayer. "Saint Michael the archangel, defend me in battle."

The words faded and Michael remained frozen at his post. An angel was not meant to speak a human prayer. Heaven was built on order, but Dean seemed bent on being an agent of chaos. 

"Be my defense against the wickedness and snares of the Fallen." Dean sounded calm in his words, but Michael knew better than to believe that.

He quickly summoned a younger angel to take his place. No one would question him, even if this was the fourth time in as many shifts. The echo of Dean's words began ringing in his head again.

"May our Father rebuke him, I humbly pray, and do thou, o high prince of Heaven and its hosts," Dean was smiling around his words as Michael landed, "by the power of our Father—"

"Angels are only supposed to pray to our Father, Dean." Michael kept his back rigid, his shoulders squared.

Dean stood loose and easy, so relaxed in his transgressions. "You tellin' me you don't like my dirty talk?"

"It's blasphemy." He kept his hand on his sword.

On a clear, righteous day, the echoes of angelic screams could still be heard clinging to the walls of their dungeons. 

The words had no impact on Dean, inspired no fear. Even an archangel could fear the punishment that came with true disobedience. Michael wondered if Dean even knew what fear was. Though as an angel who symbolized bravery, maybe that was the point.

Dean took slow steps toward him. The air warming around them as Dean unfurled his wings, the gold and green ticking of his silver feathers shifted to a deep, rusty red, then to the crimson of fresh blood. Of desire.

Michael kept his eyes locked on Dean's, his own feathers bristling at the first contact of his brother's strong hands. Deft fingers easily sought out the oil glands leaking beneath his feathers, massaging them until Michael could feel them dripping.

A low chuckle shook Dean's shoulders and halo. "You're wet like a cherubim breeder, Michael. Now who's blaspheming?"

He ground his vessel's jaw and took his hand away from his sword, reaching for his brother. "And if I prayed to you? Don't you think you'd be wet as well?"

The challenge only made Dean smile wider. "We could find out."

Michael sighed, his vessel sagging away from rigid authority. His wings curled toward Dean, his soaked feathers leaving trails over everything they touched. If this was chaos, then maybe Michael could learn to love the taste of blasphemy on is own lips as well.

[transdreamsicle]

prompt: michael/archangel!dean sneaking down to earth to have some fun (platonic or romantic ♥)

Dean is younger, technically. Created in short seconds after Michael. Only an angel would know the difference, and Michael never lets Dean forget. Especially during times like this.

"You're a terrible influence, little brother." Michael gasps when Dean clenches on him, wings thrashing against his will. It only makes Dean smile.

Dean's human hand closes around his halo, three more of his true form all reaching for Michael's hips to pull him in harder, harder brother you can't hurt me. "You love it."

Michael does, but he won't concede to it here. Only within the deepest recesses of Heaven itself will he ever admit such blasphemy. That he loves the way Dean makes him forget his duty and command. Part of him loves this simple act of rebellion, to come down to Earth and indulge in such base sins. He swears one day that Dean might just make him human.

Dean's other human hand tears welts into his back between the bases of his wings, eyes flaring bright blue, all six of his own wings shivering. Michael can't help but kiss him, hips bucking hard to give Dean what he demands. By age alone Michael outranks Dean, but one wouldn't know it here. In every way Dean leads them and takes command. He may spread his wings and legs for his older brother, but the way his vessel swallows the other archangel proves his power.

Michael shouts when Dean yanks his head back roughly by his halo, brightest fire burning as a crown. They could never do this in a room of human make, they'd destroy everything within miles. Instead they lay within the purity of their father's creation, tall grasses cradling and welcoming them as if they themselves are gods.

Dean kisses his neck and murmurs against his sweaty skin. "Brother."

When Dean speaks to him in the throes of rapture, Michael thinks that perhaps he can be a god of his own make.

[transdreamsicle]

Dean frowned when he met Michael at the edge of the Garden, his brother housed within a different vessel than before. For countless thousands of years Michael and Dean had worn a body that was the same shape and fit. Dean acquired his vessel and Michael forged himself a perfect copy. It worked for them, already having been created as twins, the perfect brothers to lead many more perfect brothers.

"Michael, why... did I miss something?" He couldn't comprehend why Michael would seek another vessel. Something deep within his Grace ached at the drastic change, Michael's face no longer a mirror to his own.

"No, Dean. He fits better." Michael smiled softly, warmth blossoming in his newly hazel-brown eyes.

"You can still change the way he looks." It was probably the biggest taboo, could even be construed as blasphemy within the right crowd.

Michael stepped in close and cupped Dean's face between his hands. "This form displeases you."

"You were mine. Grace and body." Dean's hands fell to Michael's hips instinctively, the shape of them under his human fingers different now.

Michael's wings edged forward to gently graze Dean's, deep silver feathers rustling against Dean's brilliant platinum. "I still am, Dean. This changes nothing."

"It changes everything." Dean rested their foreheads together, letting Michael coax his wings into a more relaxed position than the almost fearful quiver against his back. "Is this about what Zachariah said?"

Michael sighed and let his arms slide around Dean's neck, the tips of his fingers gently brushing through the brilliant light of his twin's halo. "It was wrong."

"Michael—"

"No. This form is yours, he was made for you. You should be the most beautiful within him. I shouldn't infringe on that. Your beauty... Dean... just trust me on this, please?" Something in Michael's tone worried Dean, but he nodded anyway and let Michael draw him into a kiss.

"You're still mine." Dean kissed his way to the edge of Michael's clothing, similar in style to his own vessel's.

"Likewise." Michael gasped when Dean bit down on his neck, feathers shifting and raising like hackles to make him appear larger.

Dean grinned when he felt Michael harden against him at the display. "I need to learn this new body of yours, don't I?"

Michael nodded and dragged his brother to a more secluded area of Heaven, the area where they had first been created. The grass was still lush, green as Dean's eyes. They laughed as they tumbled to the ground and landed on soft soil dusted with petals of wildflowers. Maybe it had been part of the agenda to get Dean here like this, but the other archangel certainly didn't need to know that.