#rauko writes

[rauko-creates]

So, I actually finished this Dean/Cas Inuyasha AU piece a week ago for the fourth week of @spn-anime-challenge: Anime April. Then, I decided I'd write a little drabble to go with it since I finished so early. Then that drabble kept growing, lol.

Now this piece actually goes with chapter 2 of this Inuyasha AU Sam and Dean/Destiel fic. Chapter 2 isn't edited yet, but I wanted to go ahead and share this art before the week officially closes.

[rauko-is-a-free-elf]

For the WIP guessing game: "hands" or "hand"

Lol okay look there were so many but I had to go with this one from Both Hands on the Wheel (my Bobby/Cas fic that probably only @wanderingcas is asking for 😂)

Castiel tilts his head and stares after Bobby as he clambers out of the truck, wondering why he would want the vehicle destroyed...but raises his hand dutifully, gathering grace to blast into the engine and blow the hood from the truck.

(would like to note that this is an early-seasons Cas in response to Bobby telling him to "kill the engine and pop the hood")

Send me a word and I'll give you a sentence from a WIP.

[narraukoiel-a]

‘Cause I’m Yours

(AO3)

Word count: 1292

Summary: 

Cas is so very tired of pretending that he isn't madly in love with Dean. He steps outside during Sam and Eileen's wedding reception for a breather. Dean follows him.

(for @aloha-cowgirl)

(Edit: Part 2 is here)

Cas watched as Sam spun Eileen around the dancefloor. He smiled. Dancing, this thing that he thought of as so tied up in music...was one of her favorite things. She had talked to him about it once. Cas had been so puzzled when Sam said they would have dancing at their wedding. She had said she loved the experience because everyone in the room was also speaking with their bodies, communicating and moving together in a language that they didn’t have to learn but somehow all understood. It was beautiful. “I won’t lie though,” she had laughed as she told Cas, “everyone does look pretty rediculous while they do it. It’s another reason I love it.” Cas watched her now, weaving various signs into her dance movements, telling Sam that she loved him as they moved around each other. Cas smiled.

He scanned the crowd and saw Dean. He was dancing with one of the bridesmaids and the sight made Cas’s chest feel like it was caving in. It didn’t hurt because his love for Dean was unrequited. It hurt because his love so obviously was returned.

But not in front of people. For the longest, Cas had thought that he was reading into things, that he was simply being hopeful. But he could no longer deny the way Dean was around him, the way his eyes followed him, the way he found silly excuses to touch him, the way his fingers lingered when he did so, the way he licked his lips as his eyes paused on Cas’s. And when they were alone, Dean sat a little closer. His touches lingered a little longer. He hugged Cas a little more. He smiled at him a little wider.

It was infuriating. Because Cas...Cas was so gone on Dean. Yet, for some unknowable reason, and even though Dean seemed to love him too, it wasn’t allowed. Dean was not his. Why couldn’t Dean be his? Because he was Dean’s completely. Every molecule of grace and flesh no longer belonged to its creator. It belonged wholly to this wild, green-eyed hunter that was now dipping another partner. 

Cas stood and walked towards the door. He needed air. He needed a few moments to not have to carefully fix his face as though he didn’t care. It was a small wedding, just the hunter family, but it was suddenly too much of a crowd for Cas. He stepped out and breathed in the night air. He walked around and leaned against the wall outside Jody’s house where Sam and Eileen’s wedding and reception were being held. It wasn’t long before he heard his voice. 

“Cas? Everything okay buddy?” Cas’s insides erupted in a mixture of butterflies and searing pain. He wanted to cry. He wanted to scream. He wanted to knock some sense into Dean and then push him up against the wall and kiss him senseless. He wanted to pull him into his arms and hold him until Dean acknowledged that he belonged there, that he fit there, and that no two people had ever needed each other more. But he did none of those things.

“I’m fine, Dean.” He didn’t watch Dean’s reaction. He kept his eyes closed and head leaned back against the wall.

The ground crunched under Dean’s feet and he shuffled them. “Um, okay. I...I’ll see you inside then.”

Cas listened to Dean’s footsteps retreat before sinking to the ground. Angels don’t cry, but Cas had never been a very good angel. He propped an elbow on one knee, put his face in his hand, and let the tears fall. He thought of Sam and Eileen and how happy they were, how beautiful they looked in each others arms twirling around the room. Why couldn’t he and Dean be like that? Why couldn’t he hold Dean’s hand? Why couldn’t he pull Dean close and kiss him in front of their family and God and everyone? Why couldn’t he scream out what everyone already knew...that he loved Dean Winchester with every corporeal and incorporeal part of his being? Why-

“Cas?” Cas jerked his head up to see Dean standing above him. “Cas...shit, man. What…?” Dean moved to kneel next to him but Cas stopped him and stood instead, facing him with red-rimmed eyes. Dean faltered for a moment before bringing a hand to Cas’s face. “Cas...buddy, what’s wrong?”

Cas leaned into the touch for a moment and brought his hand up to cover Dean’s, threading their fingers together. He watched as Dean’s eyes stuck on their interlaced fingers, then sighed. He pulled Dean’s hand away from his face. “It’s nothing, Dean.”

“Dude, it’s obviously something.” Cas shook his head and made to leave. Dean stopped him and pinned him to the wall, stepping in close, ignoring any sense of “personal space” that he once would have demanded. It irritated Cas. What did Dean want from him? And would he even…

Castiel scowled. “Would you stand this close if Sam were here?”

That surprised Dean. He sucked in a quick breath and stepped back. “I...what does that...dude, what are you talking about?”

“This, Dean.” Cas took Dean’s hand and pulled it back to him, returning it to its earlier position of his cheek. “Sometimes...you touch me like this, or like this…” he raised his other hand to the back of Dean’s neck, thumb tracing lines on the side of it, fingers reaching up into short hair, “but only when noone’s looking. What does it mean, Dean?”

Dean stood with mouth gaping, seemingly unable to find words. His eyes were full of the same pain that Cas himself was so familiar with. “Cas, I…” He shut his mouth and swallowed, not finding a response. 

“I want to dance with you, Dean.”

Dean let out a shaky laugh. “What?”

“I want to dance with you...and let people see. I want to hold your hand when we walk. I want to tell you that I love you. I want to tell everyone that I love you. I want to scream it out for them to know that no being in existence has ever loved anyone more than I have loved you. Dean, I...why can’t we be like that? Dean-”

Whatever else Cas was going to say was cut off as he found himself again crowded against the wall with Dean pressed close. “Cas…” Dean’s eyes played over his face. His fingers traced the same patterns...up to his hairline, down along his jaw, brushed gently over his lips. His fingers cupped Cas’s jaw as his eyes slowly came back up to meet Cas’s. “I’m no good at this, Cas.”

“At what, Dean?”

“At loving you. Because I do. I need you. I love you so god damn much, but...I don’t know how to do it without hurting you. I’m scared, Cas.”

“Dean…” But Dean’s lips were on his, barely, timidly, chastely, but they were there. They moved slowly, testing. Cas sighed into it, returning it just as softly. Dean pulled away with a shy look on his face.

“Um, I just realized that you never said in that list of things that you actually wanted to kiss me…”

Cas let out a soft laugh and pulled Dean back to him, pressing their lips together, wrapping his arms around Dean’s back and running his hands over it gently. Dean’s arms wound themselves around Cas as well. One had found it’s way into Cas’s hair and pulled him tighter, deepening the kiss. Cas smiled against Dean’s lips. “I love you, Dean...in unreasonable amounts.”

“I...I love you too, Cas...so much.”

Cas hummed and buried his face into Dean’s neck. They stood there like that for a moment, just holding each other, enjoying the feel of it before Dean lifted Cas’s chin for one more small kiss, took his hand, and began pulling him towards the door.

“Dean? What are-”

Dean turned back with a shy smile. “I, uh...think I owe you a dance.”

@aloha-cowgirl @petrichoravellichor @all-or-nothing-baby 

[rauko-creates]

Rough sketch of this scene where Dean buries Cas from Gripped Tight (empty rescue fic) for today's @suptober prompt: Haunted

~~~

Dean thrust the shovel into the dirt. “It doesn’t end like this,” he told the covered form on the ground. “It can’t. I—Look...” another shovel of dirt, “if there’s one thing this job has taught me, it’s that people rarely get what they deserve. I know that, but, dammit,” another shovel of dirt, “I thought—you know, you’d think that after all the times we’ve saved the world, we’d actually get the chance to live in it for a while.” Another shovel of dirt. “Dammit, Cas, we deserved to be happy.” Another shovel of dirt. “You deserved to be happy.” Another shovel of dirt. “And I know—I know that people don’t usually get what they deserve,” another shovel of dirt, “but this time, I’m gonna make sure we do. I—I’m gonna…”

When he had dug deep enough that he didn’t have to worry about animals digging Cas up but shallow enough that he could feel like it was temporary, he lowered Cas’s body into the grave. He stayed on his hands and knees beside it, trying to make himself push the dirt back into the hole.

The first handful was the hardest; it felt rude. Why was he throwing dirt on Cas? It felt wrong. He tried to remind himself that it wasn’t Cas. It was a body. Cas was in the Empty. 

It didn’t help. It just made Cas feel more out of reach. But his body was right there. It was right there, and Dean was throwing dirt on it.

He pushed more dirt into the hole, every movement a fight against his instincts. About halfway through, the feeling began to shift. The more dirt he pushed, the more he felt past the point of no return. Now, the decision was made. Now, he was doing this. Now, he couldn’t get the dirt in the hole fast enough.

There was a new unexpected battle when he stood and turned to return to the bunker. He thought he’d done the hard part. How was the struggle so fresh? And yet, every step away from the grave felt wrong. What? his insides demanded. Was he just gonna leave Cas out here? In a hole? Covered in dirt? He was right there. Cas was right there, and Dean was walking away!  He was just gonna leave him, and it felt wrong, and—and…

In the garage, Dean beat the dirt from his hands, chucked the shovel into the trunk, and slammed it shut. He brushed past Sam on his way back into the bunker.

“Dean?” There was an unspoken question. Is it done? Are you okay?

Dean clenched his fist. No. No, he wasn’t; but he would be. He took a deep breath. “Come on, Sammy.” He looked back over his shoulder. “We’ve got work to do.”

[rauko-creates]

The Man Who Overcame Time and the One Who was Just...Overcome

(Sam and Dean, Destiel, Inuyasha AU, written/drawn for the last week of AnimeApril over at @spn-anime-challenge )

On AO3 here.

Piercing Through The Gales, Unafraid of Anything

“Stay inside!” Dean warns the family huddled in a corner as he bursts out of the old farmhouse, Sam on his heels. “And lock the door!” he calls back, the door slamming shut behind them.

Dean’s off the porch in three long strides, jumping over the rickety wooden steps entirely and breaking into a run, chasing the shifter who’d been posing as the middle brother into the corn field as fast as his legs would carry him.

“What the hell, Dean?” Sam yells as they run, barely even breathing heavily, the freak. He must have taken up running or something over there at Stanford.

“I know!” Dean yells back.

“I thought we were looking for some kind of ghost or poltergeist or vengeful spirit! Not a shifter!” The shifter darts right and they follow it.

“I know!” Dean grinds out and bats a corn stalk out of his way.

“A shifter shouldn’t even be out h—”

“I KNOW!” Dean cuts in and slows to a stop, looking around. “I’ve lost track of him…Damn corn’s gotta be six feet—”

“THERE!” 

Sam takes off to the left, and Dean scrambles to keep up. They dodge and weave through the rows until, finally, they’re stumbling back out of the corn and into a field of barley on the other side of it. Both look around frantically, no sign of the shifter anywhere.

“Son of a bitch!” Dean bends down, bracing his hands on his knees and working to catch his breath. If they let it get away now, it could be anyone next time they see it.

“Maybe in there?”

Dean looks up to see Sam pointing out a small shed in the middle of the field. He looks back at Sam skeptically.

Sam gives an exasperated shrug. “Dean, there’s nothing else out here.”

Dean huffs. “Besides the acres upon acres of corn and barley? He could just be hiding out in the grass somewhere..” Probably just out there resting while they run their asses off looking for him.

“In which case we’re screwed.”

Dean grunts an acknowledgement. There’s no way they’re gonna comb through the fields efficiently enough to catch him before he can get away.

Sam sighs. “Even if he’s not in there, we can at least climb on top of the shed to get a better vantage point to look around, maybe spot him crawling or something.”

With no better ideas, Dean huffs and shoves himself upright, then trudges through the tall grass towards the building. It’s just a small wooden shed in the middle of the field and looks like it’s seen better days. The boards are warping and cracked and gray with age. The tin roof is rusty and probably leaks. 

When they get close enough to notice that the door is nailed shut, they meet eyes and nod before splitting to slowly circle the building, looking for signs of entrance somewhere else. 

There’s nothing.

The boards are beginning to rot at the bottom, leaving a few small gaps here and there, but nothing big enough to let anything in bigger than a snake or a mouse.

Sam lets out a frustrated sound. “All right. Who’s going up?”

“I’m not hoisting your tall ass up there. Come on. Gimme a lift.”

Sam scoffs. “My “tall ass” probably doesn’t actually weigh more than you. Besides, my extra height will help me see further.”

“‘See fur…’ bro, you’re like two inches taller than me. If that.”

Sam shrugs. “Taller is taller.”

“That’s not enough to matter!”

“Okay, Dean, then why did you insist that you’re not housing my ‘tall ass’ up there, then?” Dean’s little brother smirks down at him, eyes sparkling under the line of that shaggy mop of hair.

Dean scowls. “Man, why’d you even ask who’s going up if you’re just gonna argue about it?” Dean grumbles.

Sam’s smirk intensifies.

“Ugghh, fine!” Dean widens his stance and drops his hands, lacing his fingers together to give Sam a step. “Go.”

Sam puts a foot in Dean’s hands and pushes upwards, climbing onto the roof. Dean steps back and watches him turn a few circles, hand shielding his eyes from the sun.

“Anthing?” Dean calls up.

“Nothing.”

“Well, it’s not like he just disappeared. He’s gotta be somewhere.”

Sam raises an eyebrow and points down at the shed he’s standing on.

“It’s boarded up.” Dean reminds him.

“He’s gotta be somewhere,” Sam throws back.

Dean rolls his eyes and walks back around to the front. Sam drops down next to him. They both work to pull off the boards nailed over the entrance, then Sam holds up his left hand, counting down from three with his fingers.

They kick open the door and burst into the shed—a wellshed apparently—guns raised, quickly clearing the corners and again finding nothing. 

Dean looks at Sam. “You sure you saw him come this way?” he asks, moving into the old wellshed and taking it in. There was seriously nothing in here but a well that had been boarded shut, same as the door.

“This way? Yes. In here? No. But I thought it was our best chance.”

Dean grunts in agreement and looks at the well. “Think he went in there?”

“It’s boarded shut…”

Dean doesn’t even have to say the words. He just glares a Really, Sam?? at his little brother to remind him that the door was the same and this whole thing was a stretch on Sam’s insistence to start with. They pull these boards off as well, and then, on Sam’s count, throw the original doors that covered it open and lean in, pointing their guns down the hole.

“Still friggin’ nothing…” Dean mutters. The well isn’t even that deep, and it’s dry at the bottom. 

Sam stares at it. “Should one of us climb down and check it out?” Off Dean’s incredulous look. “I don’t know! Maybe there’s some loose stones at the bottom and he’s dug out some kind of tunnel system!”

Dean looks down into it and wrinkles his nose, thinking about trying to follow a shifter through a small tunnel full of…. “If so, it’s gonna be slimy…and gross…”

“Well, I climbed onto the rusty roof and risked tetanus, so I think it’s your turn.” Sam holds a hand out at the well in a go ahead motion and a shit-eating grin.

“Uh, hell no. I’m going back to the farmhouse to check on the family, make sure it didn’t circle back.

Sam shrugs and holsters his gun. “Fine. I’ll go.”

Dean grabs him by the shoulder. “No.”

Sam brushes him off and rolls his eyes so hard that it makes Dean hope he sprains something. “Dude, why would you say you’re not going just to argue about it when I say I’ll go?” He mimics Dean’s argument from earlier. 

“I meant that neither of us should go, bitch.”

Sam huffs. “Jerk.” Sam looks down the well. “I know it’s a long shot, but I still feel like one of us should, just in case.”

Dean looks at him deadpan.

“Dean…”

“Okay, then I’m going.” Dean looks down and shoves his gun back into the waist of his jeans…stupid little brother and his stupid puppy dog eyes—he’d always win any argument with Dean, law student or not. And if the shifter was down there, he’s not sending Sammy in. He’s just gotten him back—he’d missed him so damn much off at Stanford—and then with Dad in the wind…well, he’ll be damned if he lets something happen to Sam.

“You got silver on you? Mine’s in the car.” Sam rolls his eyes and scoffs. “I’ve got plenty of salt though if you wanna season him.”

Dean huffs a laugh. “Yeah, a few silver bullets in the bottom of my clip that I keep there just in case of shit like this.” He feels his pocckets to check for his flashlight, hand bumping against the weird marble thing that Bobby had given him, saying it was some kind of good luck charm from Japan. He looks back up at Sam. “You call that family and tell them to stay holed up in the house together, in the same room, where they can see each other at all times, so no one can get swapped out. Tell them to open the door for nobody, not even us…and if they have any silverware that’s actually silver, they should grab it. He throws a leg over the wooden edge of the well and judges the distance. “And see if you can find a damn ladder or rope or something. It’s not too far to jump, but climbing out’s gonna be a bitch.”

With that, Dean swings his other leg over and straightens, falling into the well.

He never hits the bottom.

Follow the fic on AO3 here.

[rauko-creates]

“Pack your bags.” 

Dean looked up at his brother questioningly.

Sam shoved an empty duffel at him. “Case outside of Palo Alto. Cas is meeting us there.”

A two-day drive later, Dean stood on the beach between Sam and Cas, watching the Pacific waves crash in. “So…some kind of water spirit?” 

Sam shook his head. “Take your shoes off.”

Dean did so with no small amount of suspicion as Sam pulled some bottles and cups from a cooler and began mixing, then threw an umbrella into one and handed it to Dean. “You’ve always wanted to go to the beach.” 

[rauko-creates]

It Stopped Inexplicably

Fandom: Supernatural Pairing: Bobby/Cas Rating: G Summary: Sometimes you just need someone to explain the basics, like that cars need gas. Bobby tells Cas that he can always come to him.

[rauko-creates]

Chapter 2: Shifters and Centipedes and Demons, Oh My!