(no subject)
Title: His Wings
Prompt: 118 - white
Character/Pairing: Dean Winchester with mentions of Sam, Castiel and Bobby.
Word Count: 341
Rating: K+
Warnings: Language?
Summary: Dean is trying to get used to his wings.
Note: I rp a Dean that has a part of Cas' Grace melded into his soul after being pulled from Hell.
Hunching over the sink of his motel room’s bathroom, Dean rolled his shoulders back. Not only were the huge white things in the mirror fluffy, but they were heavy. But c’mon, seriously? Wings? He still was having trouble coming to terms with the fact that there were two wings attached to him. Granted, it had already been almost a month since getting yanked out of Hell by Castiel, but the whole thing just weirded him out.
And even worse than a damn howler monkey!
Dean slouched and felt the wings do the same. It was weird, they sort of…moved when he wanted them to and how he wanted them to. After all, he wasn’t even the one to notice them - Sam was.
When Bobby and him went to the motel room they tracked Sam to, Sam’s immediate reaction was that Dean was there and breathing, and the second being ‘dude, what the hell’s on your back?’. Worst part was Bobby couldn’t see them. Neither of them understood that.
Not until they summoned Castiel, that is.
He explained what happened and Dean just stared at him in awe. Especially when he could see the black feathery appendages on the man’s own back.
Which brought him to now. Now Castiel says that seals to the Apocalypse are being broken and that they stopped one - the rising of the witnesses. It still sounded bogus to Dean and he constantly tried shrugging it off, until he felt the wings brush against something or he saw the reflection of them on a shiny surface.
It was irritating really. The hunter wasn’t even sure what the hell the purpose of his wings were.
Oh god, and now he was referring to them as his wings.
His wings.
What was he, some weirdo angel now like Castiel? Dean sighed and hung his head, wings shaking out a little as he gave a shuddering sigh. He needed answers and he wasn’t getting them. He was just…stuck looking like a freak show birdman to Cas, Sam, and himself; Dean guessed.
Prompt: 118 - white
Character/Pairing: Dean Winchester with mentions of Sam, Castiel and Bobby.
Word Count: 341
Rating: K+
Warnings: Language?
Summary: Dean is trying to get used to his wings.
Note: I rp a Dean that has a part of Cas' Grace melded into his soul after being pulled from Hell.
Hunching over the sink of his motel room’s bathroom, Dean rolled his shoulders back. Not only were the huge white things in the mirror fluffy, but they were heavy. But c’mon, seriously? Wings? He still was having trouble coming to terms with the fact that there were two wings attached to him. Granted, it had already been almost a month since getting yanked out of Hell by Castiel, but the whole thing just weirded him out.
And even worse than a damn howler monkey!
Dean slouched and felt the wings do the same. It was weird, they sort of…moved when he wanted them to and how he wanted them to. After all, he wasn’t even the one to notice them - Sam was.
When Bobby and him went to the motel room they tracked Sam to, Sam’s immediate reaction was that Dean was there and breathing, and the second being ‘dude, what the hell’s on your back?’. Worst part was Bobby couldn’t see them. Neither of them understood that.
Not until they summoned Castiel, that is.
He explained what happened and Dean just stared at him in awe. Especially when he could see the black feathery appendages on the man’s own back.
Which brought him to now. Now Castiel says that seals to the Apocalypse are being broken and that they stopped one - the rising of the witnesses. It still sounded bogus to Dean and he constantly tried shrugging it off, until he felt the wings brush against something or he saw the reflection of them on a shiny surface.
It was irritating really. The hunter wasn’t even sure what the hell the purpose of his wings were.
Oh god, and now he was referring to them as his wings.
His wings.
What was he, some weirdo angel now like Castiel? Dean sighed and hung his head, wings shaking out a little as he gave a shuddering sigh. He needed answers and he wasn’t getting them. He was just…stuck looking like a freak show birdman to Cas, Sam, and himself; Dean guessed.