a/n: Friend prompt! What if Dean hated Castiel? This is basically what I thought coulda been.
words: ~400
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There was a tense silence that surrounded the two men and angel walking down the street, and Castiel was very uncomfortable with it. He’d heard stories about the Winchester brothers, about their prowess and strength and how they’d made it through danger after danger till here. Though he had not known them at the time, when word came that the eldest Winchester brother was dead and in hell, a small pang of remorse went through him. He had enjoyed the stories he received from time to time of their adventures, he was saddened that he would never have a chance to meet such great men.
When he was blessed with the charge to remove Dean from Hell, there was an uplift in his spirit. He truly thanked his Father, though not in person, for such an important job. It was his chance to finally meet the elder brother, and sooner or later he would certainly meet the younger. Though as an angel, as a leader of his own garrison, he was a very powerful being. More powerful than probably all of the humans in the entirety of history, humans were broken and interesting, and these Winchester brother-hunters were the most interesting he’d heard of in many years. This was truly the chance of his life time.
But after saving Dean from hell, after gripping his shoulder and tearing him out of the muck and despair, Castiel was surprised by the amount of hatred that Dean finally greeted him with. He did not see Castiel as his savior and treated him with distrust and a raw bitterness. No thanks, no job well done, just angry words and angry looks. Sam, on the other hand, was grateful to Castiel and said as much to his brother, but when Castiel left question after question unanswered, even he’d turned a little cold towards his brother’s savior.
Castiel was above human pettiness, he was a soldier of the Lord, and had been for beyond the realm of human time, but he found himself very…
“– pissed.” He heard Dean mutter something to Sam with a nasty look back at him, as if to see if he was listening in. If either of them had bothered to asked, they would have learned that Castiel could hear every word of their conversation.
But yes, to put it in human terms, Dean’s treatment of Castiel made him very, very pissed.
a/n: Friend prompted this. This is my idea of what would happen on a chance encounter between Izaya and Anri if they were in a relationship together, probably a bit ooc.
words: ~450
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“Fancy meeting you here.”
The voice behind Anri snickered as she turned around and stiffened at the sight of Izaya. “What are you doing here?” She asked, staying still as he walked closer.
“No hello? No kiss?” He ignored her question with a smirk.
She frowned. “You didn’t come here for me. You’re here on business.” With that she turned her back to him and continued down the sidewalk.
“Oh, you wound me, love!” He caught up to her and clutched at his heart dramatically. “How do you know I’m not here for you? You love surprises.” He winked at her.
“You know I don’t, and if you were you would’ve been at my home.” She said. “Besides, there’s a Dollars meeting tonight – or did you not get the message?” She smiled thinly at him.
He sighed. “Oh, you’re too smart for me –“ She rolled her eyes at that. “– but you figured it out, I’m here for the meeting.” He threw his arm over her shoulder. “You wanna hold hands when we get there, precious?” He asked gleefully.
Anri shrugged off his arm and smacked his arm. “Who says we’re even going to walk together?” She asked, her eyebrows furrowed at his actions. When they’d first gotten together, it’d been a one-time thing that had become a two-time thing, which had finally evolved into whatever they were now. A string of hook-ups didn’t make a relationship, and both had been clear that this wasn’t to get out on pains of death. Lately though, Izaya had been… clingy. ‘Well, not clingy…’ She thought. ‘Just more… grabby than beforehand.’ She corrected.
“C’mon.” Izaya leaned in and purred in her ear. “Be a ‘lil wild, let’s walk together, babe.”
“We both agreed we didn’t want any knowledge of ‘us’ to be found out.” She knew he was a manipulative bastard, but she wasn’t about to be played by him. He stopped walking and crossed his arms with a pout, but she wasn’t fooled. The son of a bitch was up to something. She left him behind as she kept walking.
He stuck his hands in his pockets and chuckled as he caught up to her with a few steps. “You definitely are something, Anri.” He grabbed her arm and twined their fingers together. “You don’t want this?” He held up their clasped hands.
She stood there for a second, thinking it over, and took her hand out of his. “No.” His face betrayed nothing, but she felt compelled to explain. “I like what we have now.”
At that Izaya’s face lit up and gave her a devilish grin. “Okay.” He glanced at her, up and down, before adding, “I’ll stop by afterwards, ‘kay?”
Anri smiled up at him and nodded, and they separated quietly, each walking their own path.
Madeline’s eyes fluttered as sleep escaped quickly from her. The bright lights seemed brighter, and for a second she didn’t even know where she was. She closed her eyes, trying to get back to sleep, that was all there was these days, but when her fingers tightened on her blanket she snapped back to wakefulness and pushed herself up. She took a shaky breath as she realized this wasn’t her tiny cell, and Vanya was no where to be seen. The room looked somewhat like a hospital room, yet not. It was bright, sterile white, but there wasn’t much in the room. Just the table she’d been sleeping on, it was in the middle of the room and there was nothing else in the room.
Fear clawed at Madeline’s body and lungs, making it hard to breathe, and she clung tightly to the velvet-y blanket and brought it up to cover her chest. Some sick fuck – though it didn’t take a genius to imagine who it could’ve been – had removed all her clothes and she was naked on the table, with only the blanket to protect herself.
She swung her legs off the edge, about to hop down, when the door opened. The master walked in, dressed in a doctor’s coat he didn’t seem nearly as dangerous as he had before, but there was a sick glee that hung around his personage and permeated through the small, empty room. She wanted to say something, to scream, but her mouth just hung open.
“Ah, good to see you’re awake.” He said, striding over to the wall and tapping some code onto it. A small door and drawer opened simultaneously and he pulled out a rolling stool and a tool bag of some sort. “You had a bad reaction to the drugs and have been unconscious for the last few days…” He rolled the stool closer to the table and smiled assuredly to her. “Don’t worry, you’ve been in capable hands.” He showily offered his hands towards her.
Madeline jumped off the table and tried to make a run for the door, but her legs wouldn’t support her and she fell the moment her feet touched the ground.
“Oh, yes, to make sure you didn’t harm yourself...” He grabbed under her arms and hoisted her back onto the table. “I administered a drug to immobilize your legs. For a little while at least.” He shrugged and quirked a grin to her before sitting back down.
Goosebumps covered her arms and legs now that she was uncovered. She blushed, but didn’t say anything. He’d done this on purpose. She wanted to cry, but couldn’t, not yet.
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Several invasive hours later, Madeline’s body had been poked and prodded and worse. The tears had started during the first hour, and had only stopped during the second hour when she seemed to dry up entirely. She looked blankly up at the ceiling, unable to do or think of anything except for the pain.
He hadn’t been kind.
She couldn’t look at herself as her insides were still splayed open and she was sure it’d hurt to vomit. He had promised to sew her back up, and she was sure he would. Through the entire thing, he’d crooned and called her sweet names. He wasn’t done with her. This pain, this engulfing pain that ached and burned and stabbed all at once, would be over soon. But she wouldn’t forget, she would never forget.
