seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Australia
seen from Germany
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from South Korea
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from Russia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Hong Kong SAR China
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
💖 𝐻𝒶𝓅𝓅𝓎 𝐵𝒾𝓇𝓉𝒽𝒹𝒶𝓎 𝒱𝒾𝓃𝒾 💖
dean has a cursed cowboy fetish and cas knows exactly what he’s doing ;)
Happy birthday @naughtystiel!
Happy 27th Birthday!! @naughtystiel
Thank you for organizing this event and I hope you have a great Birth Day~
I'm not that great at doing cursed things so I hope this counts.
I live a double life. One were I appear normal to the general public and one were I make spn collages at 3 am I don’t know an in between.
@naughtystiel you said the worse the better so…. I really out did myself
Funny is not my strong suit, cursed feels more like it. Anyway the most important thing is - happy birthday @naughtystiel 🎉
Sad, sad demise of the Team: Sam and Destiel ~ aka i could not think of a name for this crackfic that i took a tiny bit seriously
✨✨happy birthday @naughtystiel !!!! seemed like a fun event and i have no idea if you like stargate (checked your ao3 but no luck) so tada this fic requires no knowledge of it but it’s there :)
dean/castiel | 800-ish words | supernatural/stargate sg1 (just the concept of stargate ig)
warnings: destiel (and sam) gets gate-napped but they are also canon and alive. i don’t know
—x—
Cas stepped into the suspect’s living room, gaze focused on a book.
“Dean?” He murmured. It was not at all like Dean didn’t know Cas would never speak so softly to Sam. So he definitely did not always have to pretend he didn’t find it intolerably adorable. Nope.
The man in question glanced up from where he lightly traced the symbols on the ugly yellow wallpaper.
“Yeah? What’d you find, Cas?”
Dean did also not ever say Castiel’s name more often than necessary. He was just not soft for him like ever.
He stepped back over the rolled-up carpet to meet the angel halfway across the room, hanging over Cas’s shoulder, not so close he could feel his light exhale or anything.
“These markings appear to be drawn by the same hand as those on the wall,” Cas mused.
At Dean’s brow raise, he continued, “They are not Enochian, but I have seen some like them…long ago. Those,” he pointed to the large ring of symbols on the wallpaper, “-are a sort of parody of the original, I believe.”
Dean studied his focused frown just because his eyes accidentally ended up on his mouth of course, pursing his lips.
“So what you’re saying is, we don’t know anything. Someone thought flexing artistic license on ancient voodoo charms was a good idea so they vanished the guests in the middle of their dinner party. Great.”
The moose assumed bitchface #7 as he headed towards the two from the hallway, opening a desk drawer. His hoof scrabbled on the handle for a tense moment. Cas flipped a page.
“I am sure it was not intentional,” he told them.
“Oh yeah?”
A loud click interrupted Dean’s hangry overworked hunter rant. Then another. All eyes turned to the drawings on the wall: out of 39, two at opposite sides of the circle had lit up.
The trio moved back to the center of the room, Dean taking a defensive position. Yes, he brought a knife to a…well, a something-fight. Something that was absolutely not natural.
Four more clicks sounded, and four more symbols sent gold light onto the dusty floor in rapid succession as Dean hissed, “Cas? Tell me you’ve seen this before?!”
Castiel looked worried, dropping the book, but he said nothing. In the sudden golden glow, Dean looked positively ethereal, fierce-yet-scared look and all. He very much wanted to count his freckles again, though that would have to wait for later. Naturally he dropped the book for some other reason though, like because a seventh symbol clicked and lit.
The moose practically honked when the wall exploded. Pretty much literally, only within the circle, which sucked the explosion back in before it could touch the frightened wild creature.
Dean rushed to Sam’s side, pulling him away with difficulty because a massive skittering foot struck out and hit him in the calf more than once. Poor literate moose.
Inside the circle glimmered a puddle. It looked like one anyway, and Cas found himself stepping towards the glowing, water-like portal with undivided fascination. The shade of blue reflected beautifully off the angel’s eyes, Dean noted.
That was the last thing he noted before a purple tendril yanked Cas into the puddle. Dean dropped the moose and leaped…and fell, arms empty.
Two sets of shoes appeared before his gaze. Dean struggled back to his feet only to see himself, and Castiel.
“Cas?” He started.
But this Cas was out of breath, sweating, and trenchcoatless. So not Cas.
Fake!Dean supported Definitely Not Cas as he stumbled into the room.
Dean stared and clenched his knife except he dropped that one already. He grabbed a different knife from his belt to grasp angstily instead.
Dean:///// took one look at Dean and a cursory glance at his startled right-hand moose and seemed to realize something.
“Can you…” he glanced back at the innocently shimmering portal-puddle. Porta-puddle?
That-ain’t-my-Cas shook his head, panting. “Take..too long. To,, imbue..them.”
Secondary Dean hummed and nodded. He eased Not Even Castiel onto the floor, leaning him against a chair that was probably there purely for plot convenience.
“Who are you?” The moose spoke up because Dean was too busy analyzing Cas????? to be sure he could not be Cas. He was still pretty so it was hard to tell.
Dean #2 ignored him.
“Well, we only need one of us here, wouldn’t you agree?”
Evil Dean spun, elbowing Dean in the ribs so hard he stumbled towards the portal. With a last kick, since the supposed hunter lost all fighting capability the moment the storyline formed, Dean fell inside and was gone.
“Oopsie,” Victorious Dean snickered. He leaned down to press a soft kiss onto Cas-not-Cas’s lips.
Knew it, Sam thought.
“Looks like we’re staying, huh?”
Cas smiled a little.
Sam emerged from his DeanCas moment and gaped.
Five minutes, three futile bullets, and chaotic moose kicks later, he was gone too.
Because morally highly questionable actions running this thing or not, what CW Spn does will always be worse.
Destiel wins. Sort of.
—x—
thanks for readin, love ya! <3 and happy birthday again to the host aha ✨
@motionlessblackveilbride you are legally obligated to read this. sorry.
Choose your fighter
Dean
Sam
Cas
It’s almost @naughtystiel’s birthday and you know what that means,,,,
