Deancas Fic - Tumblr Posts

ghost, zero, suitcase, and the moon

Author: @shineforthee | Artist: @witchy-worm

Rating: Mature Tags/Warnings: Major Character Death, Grief & Loss, Ambiguous Ending, Derealization, Apocalypse, Suicidal Ideation Summary: Dean has always known it was ending. The world, that is. He knew it when he was three, awake and screaming in the middle of the night with the image of fire leaving an afterburn behind his eyelids. He knew it while he learned to ride a bike, while he went to his first school dance, had his first kiss, tipped back his first beer with his dad. He knew it when dad left, too. When Sammy died. When it all began to crumble.

He has always known it was ending. Now he's alone in a cabin somewhere so far north and so far west that he thinks half the continent never knew it existed in the first place, and he's got the same damn nightmares, the same burn behind his eyes, and the sense that ending is a verb that goes on and on into eternity and outside of time.

Excerpt:

There are only five things:

The sky, vibrant violet, swirling clouds like eyes staring, blinking down at him.

Clarity, sharp and unbidden. He wakes as if he’s slept a thousand years, as if he’s never slept before this one singular moment.

With that clarity, pain. Sharp. Unbidden.

Screaming. God there’s screaming and it’s coming from inside him. It’s trying to get out so badly. Ripping from his throat. He didn’t know fish could scream. Didn’t know worms could scream. Didn’t know bones could scream.

The hard rock knuckles are gone from behind and beneath him and whatever has replaced them is palm-soft. He cannot remember the last time something was soft.

Coming to @deancashorrorfest this October

When a vampire hunt, a college camping trip and a deranged killer collide, romance is hard to come by. But this is Dean and Cas - they'll manage somehow.

Dean/Cas Horrorfest presents...

Dean & Castiel vs. Evil

Artist: @xfancyfranart

Author: @friendofcarlotta

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 31k

Tags/Warnings: Fusion with “Tucker & Dale vs. Evil” (2011), Horror Comedy, Hunters Sam and Dean, Blood and Gore, Minor Character Deaths (so many), Angry Hornets, Minor Cannibalism, Chainsaws

Summary:

Castiel is trying to survive a camping trip to the Appalachians with his annoying fraternity brothers. At a nearby cabin in the woods, Dean is trying to clean up the remains of his and Sam’s recent vamp hunt. Both Dean and Castiel wouldn’t mind exploring their mutual attraction.

But there’s a problem: due to a series of misunderstandings, Castiel’s friends are convinced that Dean and Sam are serial killers. Worse, as Castiel’s friends start to die in increasingly grisly ways, it becomes apparent that there actually is a killer on the loose. Will Dean and Castiel be able to find the killer? More importantly, will they ever be able to score some alone time?

Preview:

“The hell… did you even… do… to this one?” Dean asks, grimacing down at the vamp corpse they’re currently schlepping between them. It doesn’t just look decapitated — it looks fucking eviscerated. Half the torso is torn up, blood and guts spilling out in an untidy trail all down the cabin’s front steps and across the yard. They have to drag it by the legs instead of the arms, like they usually would. 

“Don’t know,” Sam says, shrugging as he pauses to study the mess too. He finally looks like he’s feeling the strain too, cheeks red and sweat pearling on his forehead, but Dean’s going to be the bigger man and not mention it. Or at the very least, he’s going to wait to tease Sam until he’s got enough of his breath back to do it properly. “Freshly sharpened blade I guess, and the guy moved right as I was swinging at him. Sliced clean through his torso.”

“Huh.” That may be true, but Dean’s also occasionally suspected his not-so-little brother of popping steroids to make him so freakishly large and strong. The current situation really ain’t helping Sam’s case. “Well, whatever. Let’s just get the fucker in the pit with the others.”

They move to do just that, but they don’t make it far. Because straight ahead, walking out of the woods towards them with a friendly smile and a dorky little wave, is Castiel. 

Dean can tell exactly the moment he clocks what’s going on — or thinks he does. The smile drops off his face, and his hand drops too, all of him seeming to sag lower all at once. He stares down at the mangled corpse Dean and Sam are dragging between them, blinking slowly at it, like he can’t quite believe this is happening to him.

Not that Dean can blame him. Of all the scenarios he dreamed up about him and Castiel meeting again, a badly disfigured vamp corpse didn’t figure into a single one of them.

“Fuck,” Castiel says — just that, but he gives it some real oomph. Like he’s never meant anything in his entire life the way he means that. 

 And then he spins around and runs for the trees. 

Just a couple of seconds too late, Dean finds his voice. “Cas, wait!” Cas? Where the hell did that come from? “I can explain!”

Cas, perhaps not surprisingly, doesn’t pay him any mind. He keeps running back towards the treeline, arms and legs pumping hard, and he—

—collides with a low-hanging branch. 

Cas goes down hard, sprawling onto his back on the forest floor, and Dean almost thinks he can feel the ground shake with the impact.  It’s like Cas said: fuck.

Coming this October to @deancashorrorfest!

While the warm wind blows through the Eastern Halls, the Angel tends to the Dead. 

Dean / Cas Horrorfest presents: 

The Forgotten Halls

Art by @thestarsmakemedream-art Story by allthismusic 

Rated: T  Word count: 9k

Tags/Warnings: Inspired by Piranesi by Susannah Clarke, post-canon, the Empty, amnesia, non-euclidean space

Summary: A long time from now — maybe decades, maybe centuries — there are only the Halls, and the Entity, and the Angel. They exist in harmony, mostly. When an outsider changes their routine, a routine so long-standing that the Angel remembers nothing that had come before it, the disturbance will threaten the fabric of their entire universe.

Coming this October to @deancashorrorfest 

Preview: 

“You could be like them,” the Entity says when it comes upon the Angel gently moving the remains of a boy in red clothing so that he does not get washed away by the next tide. The Angel looks up from his task to greet his visitor. “Still, you do not rest,” the Entity says. Its face is familiar to the Angel in a way that reminds him of his own, but there’s something about it, something behind it that seems to shift and change and somehow makes the Angel feel as though he is looking through the Entity rather than at it.  “They need me,” the Angel explains. “And you have asked me to observe the Halls.”  “Your selflessness knows no bounds,” the Entity says dryly. The Angel does not understand why this does not sound like a compliment. “But yes. If you cannot find it in yourself to diminish, then it is very useful for you to expand our knowledge of these… Halls.”  The Angel follows the Entity’s gaze around the Halls, with its dark recesses and its gothic arches. There are three statues in the chamber where the Red-Clothing Boy rests: a sweet-looking cherub, a lion’s-head bust, and an intricately carved bird that the Angel thinks might be a phoenix. It is one of the most interesting chambers of the Halls, but the Entity’s eyes seem to slide past its elaborate statues and its intriguing nooks and crannies. “Have you seen anyone else here?” the Entity asks. Its tone is carefully calm, but there is a metallic scrape to its words that betrays a sense of intensity.  “Yes, of course,” the Angel says, and the Entity looks taken aback. But when he starts reminding his visitor of the other Dead, like the Red-Clothing Boy, who dwell stilly and silently within the Halls, it quickly becomes clear that the Angel’s charges are not who the Entity is asking about.  “There are Others who seek to find this place,” the Entity explains gravely. “There may be as many as three, but I think only one will come. The Hunter.”  “What is he hunting?” the Angel asks.  “You,” the Entity says, and though a hint of threat is present in its answer, the Angel feels unexpectedly hopeful. “Me,” the Entity continues. “These Halls… if the Hunter finds his way here, the very architecture of this place is in danger, along with all its inhabitants. If you see him, you must tell me immediately, and you must not speak to him.”

My first Destiel fic! In which Dean and Cas watch Indiana Jones and the movie inspires them to have their first kiss a la Indy and Marian. There is also hurt/comfort, angel healing and general fluffy sweetness. G rated, no smut. Oneshot, 3.5k.

I was just casually browsing tumblr, eating breakfast, and then I came upon this. I instantly stopped eating, started smiling, and am now just staring into space. I enjoyed reading that.

Destiel, kinda 15x18 coda, gratuitous fluff. Clowning hours are OPEN, people.

It feels like it happens in slow motion.

Cas has stumbled to his feet, touching his chest and trenchcoat like he’s confused by their tangibility. He turns just in time for Jack to tackle-hug him, and for Sam to lope over and wrap his freakishly long arms around them both. Dean thinks they’re laughing, but it’s hard to tell over the rushing in his ears. He feels like he’s walking through molasses.

There are so many things he wants to say, but the words get caught in his throat like an inconvenient, gay traffic jam and it’s all he can do to put one foot in front of the other. Sam and Jack drift away. Cas turns.

And then it’s just the two of them.

Cas looks—alive, which is really all that matters. Same blue eyes, same wild dark hair, same clothes. He’s wearing this beaming smile that’s fading in his mouth but staying in his eyes, despite the fact that his shoulders start to tense. He is deliberately, inhumanely still. He’s nervous, Dean realizes.  

Dean’s thought about this a lot. Years. He’s lost sleep over it; not only his own confession, but the idea of… them together; how that would work, what it’d look like. It’s been a source of anxiety and comfort and desire, and now that everything’s over, now that he gets to have his big friggin’ moment, everything he’s ever imagined flies out the goddamn window.

Dean moves before he understands what he’s doing, crushing Castiel to his chest, arms tight around his shoulders, squeezing squeezing if only to convince himself that this is real, he’s here, he’s alive, he’s here. It takes a breath for Cas to hug back, but he does, seemingly content to stay there forever which—sure, but no, because Dean reaches up with one stupid, shaking hand to cradle the back of Cas’s skull, and then he pulls away with just enough space to look into those dumb, gorgeous, blue eyes and—

It isn’t a single kiss.

Sure, there’s the first one; hard and dry and desperate. Clinging. But then there’s another, and another, and he’s calling Cas an asshole and an idiot and saying shit like don’t you ever do that again. And they keep kissing, because now that Dean’s started, he can’t stop; he wants to kiss this man until he gets fucking stubble burn and then kiss him some more. Wants to take him out on a date. Wants to take him to bed.

“How could you—after everything—”

Cas twists his fingers into Dean’s overshirt.

“I—Cas, I—”

Cas nods against his mouth.

And then Dean’s gay traffic jam becomes decidedly un-stuck.

He wrenches away, hands pressing to Cas’s chest when he tries to follow. He’s gorgeous like this; disheveled and flushed to hell, and Dean spares a moment to be embarrassed for them both when Cas drifts forward again like he just can’t help himself. Dean’s fingers press against his reddened lips. “You’re oblivious,” he breathes. His hand moves to trace the line of his brow, the apple of his cheek. Cas watches him raptly, caught somewhere between elation and awe. Dean thumbs the bolt of his jaw. “You need to pay better attention.”

Cas clutches at his wrist. “Dean—”

“How could you ever think I don’t love you?”

Cas flounders, mouthing moving like a fish out of water. “I-I’ll endeavor to do better in the future,” he says. Swallows thickly. Watches as Dean drifts close and brushes their mouths together in an impression of a kiss, something vulnerable and delicate and fucking terrifying.

“…Good,” Dean says. “I—I’ll do that, too.”

First timer~

Wish me luck!

Get Ready to hop onto the angst-filled pining train

Registration for the 2023 Dean/Cas Pinefest is now open!

Now entering its seventh year, the Pinefest is an annual big-bang style challenge for artists and authors in the Dean/Cas fandom. All fics submitted must have a strong focus on a relationship between Dean and Castiel, and must feature pining as a major trope. Beyond that? The multiverse is your oyster!

Authors will be able to sign up until September 30, 2022, while artists will have until November 26, 2022 to join. Follow us here or on Twitter for updates 🌲

You can find more details about the challenge via the links below, and sign up here when you’re ready!

Happy pining, everyone!

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