#pbwrites

[profound-boning]

Dean talks to Jack, can’t you bring Cas back from the Empty like you did last time

No, Jack explains, last time I just woke him up

Then do it again, Dean begs

I can’t, Jack replies, he’s already awake - he’s waiting for you

So Dean prays, again, maybe for the last time

Cas, you got your ears on?

He waits, but not for long

Hello, Dean.

[profound-boning]

15x16 coda now with added destiel, cw for Dean’s Trauma, <1k I haven’t written anything in over a year please be kind

The nightmares are back.

Dean sits upright in bed, shaking and heaving for breath. He blinks hard in the darkness of his bedroom, dispelling the horrors from beneath his eyelids and shuddering the tension from his shoulders. It grips him still, clings to the fringes of his awareness. It felt so real.

It was real. All those years ago.

He really did see a pile of bodies, pale limbs akimbo, blank eyes staring into the gloom. Tortured, agonized faces made up of wide, childish eyes and soft cheeks. Matted and dirty hair. Hair’s too long. Need to get it cut, Sammy, why’d you wear it like that anyway? Sam’s eyes, cold and lifeless. Sam’s arms, scrawny and-

Dean shakes his head. Sam isn’t a child and Sam isn’t dead. He’s right down the hall, hopefully still asleep in his bed. He’s dreaming, maybe, of a brunette and a white picket fence. The way he used to dream of the Ivy League.

He scrubs his hands over his face, his breath coming more steadily now. Sam is fine. Cas is fine, or at least he was when he texted goodnight. Jack is fine for now. For now.

Sighing, he lies back on the pillows. Fuckin’ nightmares. What is he, twelve?

He frowns. No, he was all of sixteen. Still a child in every conceivable way, still too young to have seen what he’d seen. To have had the childhood that he’d had.

“Childhood.” Ha. He smirks into the predawn stillness. He glances at the clock and decides he has time if he wants to try to sleep again.

Sam isn’t a child anymore and Sam isn’t dead. Jack is asleep in his room. Cas would call if something was wrong. Not to mention he’s a powerful angel, so.

He rolls onto his side, squishing his pillow for comfort. His family is fine. He’s-

Is he fine? Forty years old and reliving a nightmare he thought had left him ages ago? He hadn’t felt settled, hadn’t felt safe until, well, until Sonny. When Sonny sat him down in a diner and offered him a home, until someone actually cared about him not just as a babysitter and not just as a soldier, but as the young man he was trying to be. Always trying and never quite hitting the mark.

Dean rolls over, away from the darkening thoughts. The way the knife had felt in his palm. The way his knees had sunk to the carpet, the Baba Yaga’s voice in his teenaged body, this is your fault, you’re a failure, you never did anything right.

He jolts at the sound of his phone, the ring tinny in the total quiet. Squinting against the light of the screen, he holds it up and grunts something close to a question.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Cas.” He exhales it more than he says it. “The hell are you calling at this hour for?”

“I know you weren’t sleeping,” Cas replies simply. Oh. Right.

“Yeah, well. Now I’m extra awake.”

Cas makes a noise of assent, but Dean can picture the quirk of those lips which means he’s placating him.

Instead of asking him to talk, Cas does. He starts by revisiting his drive, how he’d played Dean’s cassette again and which songs he had sung along to. Next, he talks about stopping for dinner exclusively because they were advertising bacon cheeseburgers. The way Cas talks about middle America is soothing because this is someone who watched it come into being, has observed every change over the course of millennia, but is only now able to appreciate it in a specific way. In the way that he’d wanted to all along, but is only now getting the chance.

Dean knows it without Cas having to tell him. Cas will do anything to stop this world from ending because he loves it too much to let it end. Cas will also do anything to keep Jack from dying because he loves him too much to allow it. Cas doesn’t tell him where he’s going or what specific inquiries he’s making and that’s just fine. Cas is their wild card, their steadfast warrior, and the heart of their family. If anyone can find a way out of this, it’s Cas.

Sam will be chomping at the bit to help but Dean worries Billie will see through that. They’ll have to play double agents, he thinks, but they can’t show their hands. Can’t know too much, not until it’s go time. Which will be soon, if Billie’s prediction is correct, which it certainly is.

But not tonight. Not in the next few hours. For now, Dean can drift back into a peaceful sleep aided by the sound of Cas’s voice. He doesn’t realize it’s happening at first, just holds the phone to his ear and hums at the appropriate places. Cas knew exactly what he needed, of course. Gotta tell him, though, Dean thinks hazily, dangling on the precipice of sleep. Have to use words and tell Cas how important he is. Remind him.

In the morning, then.

Cas waits on the other end of the line, letting his story wind down as he feels Dean fall deeper into sleep back in the Bunker. He’s careful to infuse as much calm into his voice as possible, a proxy for his fingers at Dean’s temple, wanting nothing more than to soothe the restless and hurting soul he’s come to adore.

When he’s found the solution. When they are safe. When they are whole again. Then he’ll tell Dean everything. When there’s no more danger from Chuck. Not tonight, then.

Tonight, Dean will get a few more hours of sleep, and Cas will keep driving. He has an appointment to keep, after all.

[profound-boning]

15x03 coda aka the Big Destiel Break Up, <1k, hastily written and served with a box of tissues

——————————————————————————

Dean stares at that spot on the floor so hard that his eyes start to water.

The door creaks open and then slams shut with a finality that rattled his bones.

His fingers grip the edge of the table in order to keep himself upright. The tension causes his limbs to shake. His eyes continue to water but it’s definitely the strain, the lack of sleep, it’s—

With a roar, he throws his bottle of beer against the wall. He turns around to grab another object but suddenly, he can’t see. Why can’t he see? Why is his face so hot?

It’s the anger. He’s full of it. Rowena. Jack. Mary. There’s no such thing as free will. He never had a fucking chance, not with God playing him like a fiddle.

Every sacrifice he ever made. All the shit he had to do to stay alive, to put food in Sam’s belly, to avoid too much trouble, keep Sam alive, not to mention keeping dad happy. Every time he had to make a tough call, to go without, anytime they lost somebody, an innocent. None of it ever fucking mattered.

Kevin. Eileen. Charlie. Ellen and Jo and Ash. He could do this all day, list out all the people he loved and lost and it was for nothing.

He fumbles with his doorknob, sucking in air like it’s going to make his head stop spinning.

Exhaustion settles in, plucking all the strength from his body. He falls into his bed and curls, his limbs instinctively twisting and pulling himself in. Trying to hold it together and trying to breathe, Dean grabs his pillow and grasps the blankets.

“Cas.”

He whispers the name that changed his whole life. He tries to speak again, to say the words he couldn’t say in the library, to allow his feelings to be heard and stupidly hoping he’s not the only one listening, but he can’t. He can’t do it.

It wouldn’t matter anyway. The angel’s powers are failing. He’d thought about it over the last couple of weeks and promptly shelved the thought, wanting to avoid having another goddamned crisis on his hands. Now, it’s too late.

It’s too late for everything. He wasted a fucking decade hiding who he really is and treating Castiel like dirt, especially recently. It was too close. They were too close. He couldn’t risk— he couldn’t—

And now he’ll never know. He’s squandered his chance at the apple pie life, at the happily ever after, or whatever fucking version of a fairytale ending two old hunters can have. What they’d had was already more than he could have ever hoped for, unlovable and destructive as he is. That’s more true than ever, now.

He’s afraid to face Sam in the morning. Sam, who just lost Rowena and now he’s lost Cas, too, he just doesn’t know it yet. Fuck.

He’s never gotten it all right in his whole life so it was never going to start now, was it? He was only ever lying to himself. Never had his own free will. Never made his choices. Never mattered.

He never mattered and without Cas, he’s sure he never will.

*****

Walking is slower than driving but Cas couldn’t possibly walk through the library, through the Bunker, to the garage, pick up his keys and go. He couldn’t walk the halls of the only home he’s ever known and then leave it.

He already regrets not getting a chance to say goodbye to Sam. And by the way his “radio” perks, he’s not the only one with regrets.

The entire time he walks toward town, Cas listens to Dean’s regrets. His sadness. Cas feels the echo of it in his own chest. All of his fears about his place in the Winchesters’ home are confirmed. Moving on is the only thing left to do, despite the pain.

His only solace is that at least this way he’ll avoid the creature of the Empty forever.

[profound-boning]

Profound: A Destiel Fanzine Volume 2: Preview

As you may know, the second volume of the @profoundzine​ is underway! In fact, preorders are open as of August 2019!!

Here is a glimpse of the work I created for this awesome project.

“Dean, this is the king of the dragons, Lord Novak.”

“It is a pleasure.” The dragon king doesn’t reach for his hand so Dean doesn’t move, either. He puts on a pleasant face and bows reverentially. “My son has not yet returned from his mission. He will be here in time for the wedding, of course, and my family has prepared his chambers for you to stay there in his absence. Your family will be housed in the guest quarters to the east.”

The king continues, “my son left us with specific instructions about his courting gifts. I beg your forgiveness that they are being given second hand. Rest assured that they were all chosen by him before he left.”

“And this is common for your people?” Mary inquires.

“Oh yes,” he replies, “and Castiel has always been the old-fashioned romantic among us.” Dean can see some of the gathered crowd nodding and chattering with agreement but his brain is slow to process what he’s hearing. He is…not marrying the elderly dragon king?

They are welcomed eagerly into the caves and Dean nearly forgets to take one last look at the sun before he is ushered inside.

The first thing he sees upon entering Castiel’s chamber is light.

Here’s the preorder link again: https://shop.profoundbond.net/

Here’s the zine’s social media links for more info: https://twitter.com/profoundzine & https://profoundzine.tumblr.com/

[profound-boning]

First Lines Tag Game

The lovely @sternchencas tagged me in this fun game! Post the first line of your last 10 published fics, then tag 10 people.

1. With Conviction (destiel, G)

Once upon a time, a simple encounter changes the course of two boys’ lives forever.

2. Final Surrender (destiel, bg saileen, E)

Dean is not kidding around when he says they are still talking about what’s happened.

3. Let Me Live That Fantasy (destiel, bg saileen, E)

Halloween morning dawns pink and orange as the pumpkins arranged neatly on their porch.

4. That’s Mine (Too) (dean/cas/jimmy, T)

Dean crosses the lobby quickly, trying to avoid his co-workers until he’s a bit more awake.

5. Into My Own Hands (destiel, a/b/o, E)

Dean hates to cry.

6. Indelible (destiel, bg gabriel/balthazar, T)

Castiel knows from the moment he wakes up that something has gone terribly, horribly wrong.

7. Given by a Loving Hand (destiel a la endverse!cas/dean smith, T)

>> Received from 5135555000: Z is trying to tell me I can’t paint Claire’s room blue cuz she’s a girl. Fuck this

8. Will You Love Me Tomorrow (destiel, G)

Getting into bed at three in the afternoon is generally frowned upon.

9. Saddle Up (destiel, E)

Taking the train to work has become so routine.

10. Longed For (dean/cas/jimmy, a/b/o, E)

The worst thing about this apartment is the fact that the pool has been ‘under construction’ for six months with no sign of anyone actually working on it.

Tagging a few folks, feel free to ignore, and if you’re reading this go ahead and do this too!!: @jimminovak @60r3d0m @fangirlingtodeath513 @cr-noble-writes @wanderingcas @suckerfordeansfreckles @whelvenwings @thebloggerbloggerfun @diminuel @xharuka17x

[profound-boning]

With Conviction

for the @profoundnet exchange theme: fairytale pairings: destiel word count: 8.2k tags: no warnings apply, historical/royalty au, fairytale elements, love at first sight ao3

Once upon a time, a simple encounter changes the course of two boys’ lives forever.

It all begins at the market. Cas makes his way through the bustling crowd easily. There is fresh bread at this stall as well as sweets, which he knows his father enjoys very much. When he purchases the vegetables his mother asked for, he also gets himself an apple. Biting into the ripe fruit, he looks around and plans where he might walk next.

Then, suddenly, he hears a commotion at a nearby stall.

“Wait, no, wait!” a young man shrieks. That grimy bastard Alastair is holding his arm tightly, the pale skin of his delicate forearm clearly visible. “I wasn’t stealing!”

Alastair laughs. “Sure you weren’t. I’ve half a mind to take your hand either way and then it’s a warning for you and a trophy for me.”

“Sir, I’ve no need to steal your wares, I wasn’t stealing. But-but I will pay you for them if it pleases you.” The boy tries to tug his arm away but he can’t, his eyes are wide and terrified.

“If it pleases me,” Alastair mocks him. Then, his eyes move up and down his figure lecherously. Cas can’t really see anything beneath the huge cloak, but he’s clearly a fit young man in his twenties. “Y’know what would please me…”

“Leave him alone.” Cas inserts himself between them, glaring. “Don’t you have better things to do, old man?” He represses a shiver at the way Alastair had been leering.

Alastair just sneers at him. “Mind your own damn business.”

“And you pick on someone your own size. Otherwise, it’s just embarrassing.” Cas scoffs and ushers the stranger away as quickly as he thinks they can escape. After a few steps, he takes the other man’s hand in his and tugs him down a narrow alleyway. When they emerge on the other side, he turns sharply and walks them briskly through another section of the market, not stopping until they reach the fountain. There, he finds them a place to sit on the edge of the basin.

He sits first and finally gets a chance to look at the person he’s just removed from Alastair’s clutches. He’s just a boy, really, can’t be any older than Cas himself. He’s pale with freckled skin and a pair of green eyes, wide and soft, above his perfectly straight nose and rosebud lips. No wonder he’s wearing a hooded cloak in the summer heat, this boy would’ve attracted attention from any of the more nefarious salesmen at the marketplace if more people had seen his beautiful face.

Cas realizes that he’s been staring and he tries not to blush. He gestures to the space next to him and is grateful when the other boy sits there. He seems to be staring right back.

“Hi,” the boy finally says. “Thank you.”

“Oh, it was nothing. Guy’s a creep.”

“Yeah.” His smile might be the prettiest one Cas has ever seen. “I… Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. My name is Cas.”

His nose scrunches with what Cas thinks might be confusion. “Cas, huh? Is that a nickname?”

“No, not as far as I know, anyway. Just been Cas my whole life.”

The boy grins at him. “Well, I believe it suits you.”

Cas returns the smile, feeling warm in the summer sunshine sitting next to the cutest boy in the kingdom. “So, will you tell me your name and what brings you to these parts?” he asks. “I feel like I would remember having met you before.”

“O-oh,” the boy stammers, looking shocked. “I’m…Dean.”

“Are you sure?” Cas laughs at his hesitation. It just earns him another crooked grin.

“Yes, I’m Dean. Pleased to meet you.” He extends his hand to Cas, who takes it, shaking it vigorously between his own. “And I live…a ways away, I don’t often get the opportunity to visit the market.”

“Really?” Cas says. “That’s a shame. I insist on showing you all of the best vendors, then, if this is to be our only meeting.”

“I hope that it is not,” Dean says softly, shyly, and Cas feels overwhelmed with joy. Beaming, he stands and takes Dean’s hand back.

“Come on then, there’s a lot to see!”

:     :     :     :     :

Dean hoists himself over the railing of his balcony, panting with the effort. This damned cloak was far too hot to wear outside today, but there’s no way to avoid wearing it. If he were to be caught…

“So.” The voice startles him badly and Dean almost hits his head on the hard stone. His little brother Sam is leaning against the huge glass door with a stormy expression on his face. “Had fun today, did you?”

“Sammy.” Dean rushes to his side, looking past him into his chambers. “What’s going on?”

“You snuck out again!” He hits Dean in the shoulder with all of the force a scrawny fourteen-year-old can muster. “If Mom saw you, she’d be so mad.”

“And that’s why we’re not going to tell her, isn’t that right, string bean?”

“Ugh!” Sam pushes him away and stomps into the room, knocking one of Dean’s books off of the couch in order to throw himself down on it dramatically. “You never let me come with you but you always want me to lie for you and it isn’t fair!”

Dean winces. “Look short stuff, you can come with me when you’re older. When I’m king, you can do whatever the hell you want. But right now we’re both a little trapped here. And I gotta watch my own back out there. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

Sam pouts some more but Dean knows he just needs time. He knows that Sam doesn’t like being cooped up any more than he does.

“What do you say we go riding tomorrow?” he says, watching Sam fight the oncoming smile at his words.

“Just you and me?”

“Bobby’s allowed it before. We could ask him to go to the Western Wood again.”

“Let’s do that.” Sam nods decisively. “Did you see anything interesting today?”

Dean thinks about a gorgeous boy with blue eyes who held his hand all morning and he says no.

[ Read the rest on ao3 ]

[profound-boning]

Today’s method of procrastination: updating and collecting information for my spreadsheets for upcoming cons

[profound-boning]

Final Surrender

in honor of the @destielharlequinchallenge being renewed for 2019, with claims happening this weekend!!

timestamps for my 2017 Harlequin fic pairings: destiel and sam/eileen wordcount: 5.6k tags: no archive warnings apply, making out and minor smut in ch 1, mentions of offscreen violence in ch 2, wedding fluff in ch 3 ao3

Dean is not kidding around when he says they are still talking about what’s happened. Cas had only started dating him in order to hurt him later? That fucking blows. He’s been miserable for the past two weeks going over every single interaction and doubting all of them. It’d hurt to think about how close they’d gotten lately and then to see those things framed in a new way after learning about Cas’s plan.

But Cas is here now, telling him that it was Ketch’s idea and that he wasn’t going to go through with it because he’s in love with Dean.

So, yeah, they’re still going to talk about this. As soon as he’s done kissing the hell out of Cas.

It’s a good thing Sammy left, because they’re lying across the couch, hands roaming like they’re horny teenagers again. Dean kind of feels like a horny teenager right now. He’s making out with Castiel Nowak who loves him and holy shit, how good is his life right now?

“Did I say I love you back?”

Pushing himself upright makes their lips disconnect with a smacking noise and Cas looks very put out that they’ve stopped, until his brain actually processes Dean’s question.

“Did you…what?”

“I don’t think I said it back,” Dean explains, taking deep gulps of air. One hand propping him up, he moves his other hand to rest over Cas’s sternum, feeling the lub dub of his heart beneath his t-shirt. It’s actually Dean’s t-shirt that he’d left at Cas’s apartment, but, nuances. “I love you.”

Cas’s face lights up with a smile and Dean’s stomach does a somersault; Cas is so fucking beautiful and they should really start kissing again. Dean leans down to press his lips against Cas’s once more, nuzzling below Cas’s jaw when the dork can’t stop smiling long enough to actually reciprocate the kisses.

“Love your scruff,” he mutters. “Love your wild hair, love your terrible taste in clothes.”

“Dean.”

“Love your voice, Cas.” He tilts his chin, grazing his lips up over Cas’s warm cheek and to his temple, placing a kiss there. “Love that you’re here with me.” He leans back once more to meet Cas’s heated look. “Love those eyes.”

“Przestań. Come here.” Cas wraps his arms around Dean’s shoulders and draws them even closer, legs tangled up. Dean hasn’t enjoyed kissing this much in years, and it’s not difficult to figure out why he’s had a change of heart.

Cas’s lips are soft but demanding, as is his tongue and his fingers where they are twisting into Dean’s hair. Dean groans against Cas’s lips, cupping Cas’s jaw in his hands. Cas reaches up and gently, carefully, removes Dean’s glasses and places them on the coffee table.

[ Read the rest on ao3 ]