Drabble Requests
From THIS POST. I've decided to post them all here in one entry instead of clogging the comments on the request post. Also, that post is locked, but I'm thinking I'll leave this one public.
For:: ibroketuesday
Request:: Dean/Castiel MPREG (What a bitch, right?)
Author:: callie_828
Characters/Pairings:: Established Dean/Castiel, Sam
Word Count:: 191
Rating:: PG13 for language.
Warnings:: MPREG, or as close as I will ever come to it. Oh, and blasphemy, most likely.
Dean was not a skeptic by any means, not with his wealth of knowledge. But Castiel may as well have just told him that Bigfoot was real and the tooth fairy was coming for dinner for what he was asking Dean to believe.
“So… you’re fucking nuts, is that it?” Dean asked.
“No,” Castiel replied evenly.
“Look, I know you’re an angel and you don’t have too much experience with all this human stuff, but I think you’re familiar enough with my anatomy by now to know that I don’t have a vagina, Cas.”
“Or a uterus,” Sam chimed in.
“Mary conceived Christ without copulation. Miracles happen, Dean.”
“Mary had tits!” Dean shouted.
“I could give you a pair, if you think it would help,” Castiel offered. Dean raised his shotgun and fired it off at the angel’s head, blasting fragments of his vessel all over the motel room, the body crumpling awkwardly on the floor.
“Dean!” Sam shouted. A moment later, Castiel stood, his vessel freshly healed and intact.
“You deserved that,” Dean said.
“You’re forgiven, Dean,” Castiel replied. “I will attribute it to hormones.”
Dean fired a second round.
For:: gembat
Request:: Dean/Castiel dark!fic
Author:: callie_828
Characters/Pairings:: Established Dean/Castiel, Zacariah
Word Count:: 677
Rating:: PG I guess? Wow.
Warnings:: Character death (implied because I just could NOT get myself to actually write it)
Author's Note:: This one's probably a little long to be considered a drabble, but what can I say? The words kept coming. Oh well. Also, it might be a little more, like, tragic as opposed to dark. I don't know. I hope you like it gembat.
Dean and Castiel stood in the empty church, silence pulsating in Dean’s ears. He watched Castiel closely until he saw realization flash in the angel’s eyes.
“This is not a hunt,” Castiel said. It wasn’t a question so Dean didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. “You betrayed me to Zacariah.” Another statement. Dean would’ve responded, but nothing he could say would matter. Dean suddenly looked past Castiel up the aisle where Zacariah now stood, smug smile planted firmly on a face Dean wished he could take to hell and string up on the rack.
“Yes, he did,” Zacariah boasted, striding casually toward the two. Castiel never looked at him, kept his gaze firmly fixed on Dean.
“It was me or Sam,” Castiel whispered knowingly. His expression betrayed nothing and it would’ve made Dean angry if he had thought for a second that he had any right to be.
“My brother,” Zacariah hissed in Castiel’s ear as he circled around him to stand behind Dean. “For yours. Seems fair.” Dean wanted to indulge the rage that boiled in the pit of his stomach, but despair had won out. He kept his eyes fixed on Castiel’s, wanting to look away but knowing he owed Cas that much. And so much more he would never have the chance to give him.
“Well then,” Zacariah said, rubbing his hands together. “This has been fun, but I’d say we’re just about done here. Go ahead, Dean.” Dean tore his gaze from Castiel to glance over his own shoulder.
“What?” Dean asked. Zacariah rolled his eyes. Humans.
“Go ahead. Kill him.” The words had barely left his lips when a blade materialized in Dean’s right hand. Dean clutched it instinctively, his vise on the handle matching the grip that horror had taken on his insides. Castiel never moved, never flinched.
“What? No!” he shouted, rounding on Zacariah.
“Careful, Dean,” Zacariah threatened. “You so much as consider taking aim at me and you’ll find your brother in pieces scattered across the contiguous States. And perhaps Mexico. Maybe you can pick up swine flu while you look for his head.” Dean’s jaw tightened and he glared at the object of his hatred. But his rage fizzled and died when he heard Castiel’s voice behind him.
“Only angels can kill angels,” Castiel said, confusion laced in his voice. Dean’s heart wrenched and he turned to look at Castiel again, wishing that the angel’s usual omnipotence hadn’t failed him in this moment. Once again, comprehension dawned.
“What have they done to you?” Castiel uttered. Dean’s eyes glazed and his lips trembled. He let out a frustrated, hopeless sigh. Behind him, Zacariah stood beaming. For the first time since the situation reared its ugly head, Castiel looked away from Dean and up at his superior. “Humans cannot be angels. It’s not possible.”
“Wrong as usual,” Zacariah cheered, wagging a finger at Castiel. “See, it turns out that plenty is possible if you’re willing to fall out of line and test the waters.” Castiel dropped his eyes back to Dean.
“Do it then,” Castiel said, gently taking hold of Dean’s hand and raising it so the tip of the blade pointed at his own throat. Dean steeled himself and still said nothing. “It’s for Sam. I wouldn’t ever have expected otherwise. Or even asked for it.” Dean’s anger flared again. For all of Castiel’s faith in Dean, he had never really trusted him where Sam was concerned. But then, he clearly shouldn’t have.
He wanted to say something, to say anything that might indicate what the past few months had meant to him. He wanted to tell Castiel that he’d come to regret not a single moment in hell because it had led the angel to him. He wanted to tell him that he’d suffer the Apocalypse any day with Cas by his side, in his bed, in his heart. He wanted to say he was sorry. But he didn’t need to.
Reading his mind, Castiel dropped his arms to his sides in complete submission and whispered, “Don't be. I’m not.”
For:: worshipthedean
Request:: Dean/Alastair dark!fic
Author:: callie_828
Characters/Pairings:: Dean/Alastair
Word Count:: 278
Rating:: R for language and adult themes
Warnings:: Implied non-con. Spoilers for 4x16.
Author's Note:: I've never written this pairing before! Hope it's ok.
“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”
Dean spun around and aimed his shotgun in the direction of the voice that had just come out of nowhere, but he froze on the spot when his eyes met this latest fresh hell.
“No,” Dean breathed, forgetting himself, forgetting his weapon. “You… you’re dead. Sam killed you.” With a lazy flick of his hand, Alastair disarmed Dean and strode toward him. He didn’t need to push Dean up against a wall - out of sheer shock he had backed up against it himself.
“And I’ve been meaning to talk to him about that,” Alastair drawled. “Where is Sammy boy, anyway?” Now Dean found his strength and surged forward, too little, too late. Alastair forced him back, immobilizing him.
“How?” Dean spat, hatred burning in his eyes.
“Lucifer is big on favors now that he’s out,” Alastair explained, looking Dean up and down. “And he was very grateful. Sure, Ruby did all the legwork up here, but I’m the one who got you to come down off the rack.” He smiled a toothy, wicked smile and Dean’s stomach turned at the sight.
“Fuck you,” Dean hissed. The words didn’t come anywhere near to capturing all of his hatred and rage, but they were all he could find at the moment.
“No, no, Dean,” Alastair said, grabbing Dean by the shirt and flipping him around, slamming his front side hard against the concrete wall of the abandoned building. It was more than the force of the blow that sucked all the air from Dean’s lungs. Horror struck as Alastair pinned his hands above his head and kicked his legs wide apart. “Fuck you.”
For:: call_me_ps
Request:: Dean/Castiel
Author:: callie_828
Characters/Pairings:: Implied Dean/Castiel
Word Count:: 299
Rating:: PG
Warnings:: Character death
Author's Note:: I really doubt this will satisfy your ring kink, Bethy. LOL But hey, I incorporated it. Remember, you said you wanted it.
The minute he arrived at the place where Bobby’s house once stood, he knew he was too late. He didn’t even have to open his eyes. He could smell the smoke and ash and the putrid scent of burning flesh. He surveyed the scene anyway, not daring to hope to see signs of life. The only thing he could hope as he scanned the wreckage was that it had been quick.
There was nothing left. The structure had collapsed in on itself. The panic room, he knew, would still be intact, but he hoped they weren’t in it. They surely would’ve suffocated, baked in the heat from the fire that had blazed around it.
He climbed over charred wood, blackened furniture, and still hot debris. He allowed himself one small flicker of hope. Maybe… maybe they hadn’t been there. He silently cursed hope. Since his fall, it had been his least favorite of all human emotion. It was the most painful, the most betraying. He had chosen Dean over grace and hadn’t regretted it for a moment. Until now. He had a new respect for Dean’s preference of vulnerability to pain. He thought he had understood - he thought the way he had felt for Dean and the way Dean had felt for him had showed him how worthwhile being human was.
But now as he combed through ash for a body, he wondered how anyone anywhere in this life could ever appreciate this level of grief. Dean had been offered paradise, but he chose this. He was stronger than even Castiel had thought.
But not invincible.
Castiel stopped short when something caught his eye amongst the rubble. He crouched down and sifted through the ashes at his feet, extracting the object of his attention: a silver ring.
Dean’s ring.
For:: woodstarling
Request:: GEN. DEAN, SAM AND CAS PLAYING WITH LEGOS.
Author:: callie_828
Characters/Pairings:: Dean, Sam, Castiel
Word Count:: 475
Rating:: PG
Warnings:: CRACK. lol
Author's Note:: I don't even know.
“Finally,” Dean said as Castiel came through the door of the motel room, a large plastic bag marked Toys R Us in one hand. “Did you get it?”
“Yes,” Castiel replied, handing the bag to Dean. Dean pulled out the Ouija board and paused, cocking his head to one side as he continued looking inside the bag. He handed the Ouija board to Sam and pulled out a bright blue bucket that made a loud noise like shaking maracas when it moved. He held it up to Castiel.
“What the hell is this?”
“They’re Legos.”
“Yeah, I can see that,” Dean said, shaking the bucket. He opened his mouth, but was struck dumb by the absurdity of the situation. He exchanged confused glances with Sam.
“Um… why did you buy Legos, Castiel?” Sam asked slowly.
“The saleswomen said they were fun for all ages.”
Dean and Sam stared wordlessly.
“They were on sale.”
“…”
“I know you did not have much of a childhood.”
“What the f-“
“Uh,” Sam cut in before Dean could finsh. “That was, uh, really thoughtful, Cas. Really.” He pursed his lips and raised his eyebrows at Dean. Dean rolled his eyes and sighed.
“Yeah, Cas. Thanks. How… weird,” Dean finished. Castiel furrowed his brow.
***
Three hours and 14 and a half beers later, Dean and Sam were sprawled out on the carpet, the makings of a magnificent castle in bright primary colors standing between them. Castiel sat cross-legged with the bucket of building blocks in his lap, pulling them out one by one and sorting them into color-coded piles.
“Quit using all the long ones, Sammy!” Dean whined.
“DEAN! DEAN! IT NEEDS A MOAT!” Sam shouted excitedly.
“They’re blocks, Sammy,” Dean said, holding one up and waving it around. “It’d be a square moat! That’s stupid!”
“Play nice,” Castiel murmured, still sorting.
“Hey, I let you build a porno library in the east wing!” Sam slurred. Dean giggled.
“Ok, ok. Don’t get upset. We’ll build a boat.”
“MOAT.”
“We need lots of blue!” Dean said before finishing off his current beer. The two Winchesters crawled across the floor to where Castiel was sitting and looked at their inventory. It was clear upon first glance that there were not even close to enough blue blocks left for a moat. Or a boat. Sam and Dean looked at each other. Dean nodded at Sam, who grinned knowingly before looking up at Castiel with his best puppy dog face. Castiel shook his head.
“No.”
“But Caaaaaaaaaaas,” Dean whined.
“It’s late, I’m sure the store has closed,” Castiel argued. Sam widened his eyes pleadingly and Dean had to refrain from applauding at the number his brother was doing on the angel. Castiel sighed and stood up.
“I’ll be right back.” He could hear the boys laughing playfully as closed the door behind him.
There are still five spots open for requests, flist!
For:: ibroketuesday
Request:: Dean/Castiel MPREG (What a bitch, right?)
Author:: callie_828
Characters/Pairings:: Established Dean/Castiel, Sam
Word Count:: 191
Rating:: PG13 for language.
Warnings:: MPREG, or as close as I will ever come to it. Oh, and blasphemy, most likely.
Dean was not a skeptic by any means, not with his wealth of knowledge. But Castiel may as well have just told him that Bigfoot was real and the tooth fairy was coming for dinner for what he was asking Dean to believe.
“So… you’re fucking nuts, is that it?” Dean asked.
“No,” Castiel replied evenly.
“Look, I know you’re an angel and you don’t have too much experience with all this human stuff, but I think you’re familiar enough with my anatomy by now to know that I don’t have a vagina, Cas.”
“Or a uterus,” Sam chimed in.
“Mary conceived Christ without copulation. Miracles happen, Dean.”
“Mary had tits!” Dean shouted.
“I could give you a pair, if you think it would help,” Castiel offered. Dean raised his shotgun and fired it off at the angel’s head, blasting fragments of his vessel all over the motel room, the body crumpling awkwardly on the floor.
“Dean!” Sam shouted. A moment later, Castiel stood, his vessel freshly healed and intact.
“You deserved that,” Dean said.
“You’re forgiven, Dean,” Castiel replied. “I will attribute it to hormones.”
Dean fired a second round.
For:: gembat
Request:: Dean/Castiel dark!fic
Author:: callie_828
Characters/Pairings:: Established Dean/Castiel, Zacariah
Word Count:: 677
Rating:: PG I guess? Wow.
Warnings:: Character death (implied because I just could NOT get myself to actually write it)
Author's Note:: This one's probably a little long to be considered a drabble, but what can I say? The words kept coming. Oh well. Also, it might be a little more, like, tragic as opposed to dark. I don't know. I hope you like it gembat.
Dean and Castiel stood in the empty church, silence pulsating in Dean’s ears. He watched Castiel closely until he saw realization flash in the angel’s eyes.
“This is not a hunt,” Castiel said. It wasn’t a question so Dean didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. “You betrayed me to Zacariah.” Another statement. Dean would’ve responded, but nothing he could say would matter. Dean suddenly looked past Castiel up the aisle where Zacariah now stood, smug smile planted firmly on a face Dean wished he could take to hell and string up on the rack.
“Yes, he did,” Zacariah boasted, striding casually toward the two. Castiel never looked at him, kept his gaze firmly fixed on Dean.
“It was me or Sam,” Castiel whispered knowingly. His expression betrayed nothing and it would’ve made Dean angry if he had thought for a second that he had any right to be.
“My brother,” Zacariah hissed in Castiel’s ear as he circled around him to stand behind Dean. “For yours. Seems fair.” Dean wanted to indulge the rage that boiled in the pit of his stomach, but despair had won out. He kept his eyes fixed on Castiel’s, wanting to look away but knowing he owed Cas that much. And so much more he would never have the chance to give him.
“Well then,” Zacariah said, rubbing his hands together. “This has been fun, but I’d say we’re just about done here. Go ahead, Dean.” Dean tore his gaze from Castiel to glance over his own shoulder.
“What?” Dean asked. Zacariah rolled his eyes. Humans.
“Go ahead. Kill him.” The words had barely left his lips when a blade materialized in Dean’s right hand. Dean clutched it instinctively, his vise on the handle matching the grip that horror had taken on his insides. Castiel never moved, never flinched.
“What? No!” he shouted, rounding on Zacariah.
“Careful, Dean,” Zacariah threatened. “You so much as consider taking aim at me and you’ll find your brother in pieces scattered across the contiguous States. And perhaps Mexico. Maybe you can pick up swine flu while you look for his head.” Dean’s jaw tightened and he glared at the object of his hatred. But his rage fizzled and died when he heard Castiel’s voice behind him.
“Only angels can kill angels,” Castiel said, confusion laced in his voice. Dean’s heart wrenched and he turned to look at Castiel again, wishing that the angel’s usual omnipotence hadn’t failed him in this moment. Once again, comprehension dawned.
“What have they done to you?” Castiel uttered. Dean’s eyes glazed and his lips trembled. He let out a frustrated, hopeless sigh. Behind him, Zacariah stood beaming. For the first time since the situation reared its ugly head, Castiel looked away from Dean and up at his superior. “Humans cannot be angels. It’s not possible.”
“Wrong as usual,” Zacariah cheered, wagging a finger at Castiel. “See, it turns out that plenty is possible if you’re willing to fall out of line and test the waters.” Castiel dropped his eyes back to Dean.
“Do it then,” Castiel said, gently taking hold of Dean’s hand and raising it so the tip of the blade pointed at his own throat. Dean steeled himself and still said nothing. “It’s for Sam. I wouldn’t ever have expected otherwise. Or even asked for it.” Dean’s anger flared again. For all of Castiel’s faith in Dean, he had never really trusted him where Sam was concerned. But then, he clearly shouldn’t have.
He wanted to say something, to say anything that might indicate what the past few months had meant to him. He wanted to tell Castiel that he’d come to regret not a single moment in hell because it had led the angel to him. He wanted to tell him that he’d suffer the Apocalypse any day with Cas by his side, in his bed, in his heart. He wanted to say he was sorry. But he didn’t need to.
Reading his mind, Castiel dropped his arms to his sides in complete submission and whispered, “Don't be. I’m not.”
For:: worshipthedean
Request:: Dean/Alastair dark!fic
Author:: callie_828
Characters/Pairings:: Dean/Alastair
Word Count:: 278
Rating:: R for language and adult themes
Warnings:: Implied non-con. Spoilers for 4x16.
Author's Note:: I've never written this pairing before! Hope it's ok.
“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”
Dean spun around and aimed his shotgun in the direction of the voice that had just come out of nowhere, but he froze on the spot when his eyes met this latest fresh hell.
“No,” Dean breathed, forgetting himself, forgetting his weapon. “You… you’re dead. Sam killed you.” With a lazy flick of his hand, Alastair disarmed Dean and strode toward him. He didn’t need to push Dean up against a wall - out of sheer shock he had backed up against it himself.
“And I’ve been meaning to talk to him about that,” Alastair drawled. “Where is Sammy boy, anyway?” Now Dean found his strength and surged forward, too little, too late. Alastair forced him back, immobilizing him.
“How?” Dean spat, hatred burning in his eyes.
“Lucifer is big on favors now that he’s out,” Alastair explained, looking Dean up and down. “And he was very grateful. Sure, Ruby did all the legwork up here, but I’m the one who got you to come down off the rack.” He smiled a toothy, wicked smile and Dean’s stomach turned at the sight.
“Fuck you,” Dean hissed. The words didn’t come anywhere near to capturing all of his hatred and rage, but they were all he could find at the moment.
“No, no, Dean,” Alastair said, grabbing Dean by the shirt and flipping him around, slamming his front side hard against the concrete wall of the abandoned building. It was more than the force of the blow that sucked all the air from Dean’s lungs. Horror struck as Alastair pinned his hands above his head and kicked his legs wide apart. “Fuck you.”
For:: call_me_ps
Request:: Dean/Castiel
Author:: callie_828
Characters/Pairings:: Implied Dean/Castiel
Word Count:: 299
Rating:: PG
Warnings:: Character death
Author's Note:: I really doubt this will satisfy your ring kink, Bethy. LOL But hey, I incorporated it. Remember, you said you wanted it.
The minute he arrived at the place where Bobby’s house once stood, he knew he was too late. He didn’t even have to open his eyes. He could smell the smoke and ash and the putrid scent of burning flesh. He surveyed the scene anyway, not daring to hope to see signs of life. The only thing he could hope as he scanned the wreckage was that it had been quick.
There was nothing left. The structure had collapsed in on itself. The panic room, he knew, would still be intact, but he hoped they weren’t in it. They surely would’ve suffocated, baked in the heat from the fire that had blazed around it.
He climbed over charred wood, blackened furniture, and still hot debris. He allowed himself one small flicker of hope. Maybe… maybe they hadn’t been there. He silently cursed hope. Since his fall, it had been his least favorite of all human emotion. It was the most painful, the most betraying. He had chosen Dean over grace and hadn’t regretted it for a moment. Until now. He had a new respect for Dean’s preference of vulnerability to pain. He thought he had understood - he thought the way he had felt for Dean and the way Dean had felt for him had showed him how worthwhile being human was.
But now as he combed through ash for a body, he wondered how anyone anywhere in this life could ever appreciate this level of grief. Dean had been offered paradise, but he chose this. He was stronger than even Castiel had thought.
But not invincible.
Castiel stopped short when something caught his eye amongst the rubble. He crouched down and sifted through the ashes at his feet, extracting the object of his attention: a silver ring.
Dean’s ring.
For:: woodstarling
Request:: GEN. DEAN, SAM AND CAS PLAYING WITH LEGOS.
Author:: callie_828
Characters/Pairings:: Dean, Sam, Castiel
Word Count:: 475
Rating:: PG
Warnings:: CRACK. lol
Author's Note:: I don't even know.
“Finally,” Dean said as Castiel came through the door of the motel room, a large plastic bag marked Toys R Us in one hand. “Did you get it?”
“Yes,” Castiel replied, handing the bag to Dean. Dean pulled out the Ouija board and paused, cocking his head to one side as he continued looking inside the bag. He handed the Ouija board to Sam and pulled out a bright blue bucket that made a loud noise like shaking maracas when it moved. He held it up to Castiel.
“What the hell is this?”
“They’re Legos.”
“Yeah, I can see that,” Dean said, shaking the bucket. He opened his mouth, but was struck dumb by the absurdity of the situation. He exchanged confused glances with Sam.
“Um… why did you buy Legos, Castiel?” Sam asked slowly.
“The saleswomen said they were fun for all ages.”
Dean and Sam stared wordlessly.
“They were on sale.”
“…”
“I know you did not have much of a childhood.”
“What the f-“
“Uh,” Sam cut in before Dean could finsh. “That was, uh, really thoughtful, Cas. Really.” He pursed his lips and raised his eyebrows at Dean. Dean rolled his eyes and sighed.
“Yeah, Cas. Thanks. How… weird,” Dean finished. Castiel furrowed his brow.
***
Three hours and 14 and a half beers later, Dean and Sam were sprawled out on the carpet, the makings of a magnificent castle in bright primary colors standing between them. Castiel sat cross-legged with the bucket of building blocks in his lap, pulling them out one by one and sorting them into color-coded piles.
“Quit using all the long ones, Sammy!” Dean whined.
“DEAN! DEAN! IT NEEDS A MOAT!” Sam shouted excitedly.
“They’re blocks, Sammy,” Dean said, holding one up and waving it around. “It’d be a square moat! That’s stupid!”
“Play nice,” Castiel murmured, still sorting.
“Hey, I let you build a porno library in the east wing!” Sam slurred. Dean giggled.
“Ok, ok. Don’t get upset. We’ll build a boat.”
“MOAT.”
“We need lots of blue!” Dean said before finishing off his current beer. The two Winchesters crawled across the floor to where Castiel was sitting and looked at their inventory. It was clear upon first glance that there were not even close to enough blue blocks left for a moat. Or a boat. Sam and Dean looked at each other. Dean nodded at Sam, who grinned knowingly before looking up at Castiel with his best puppy dog face. Castiel shook his head.
“No.”
“But Caaaaaaaaaaas,” Dean whined.
“It’s late, I’m sure the store has closed,” Castiel argued. Sam widened his eyes pleadingly and Dean had to refrain from applauding at the number his brother was doing on the angel. Castiel sighed and stood up.
“I’ll be right back.” He could hear the boys laughing playfully as closed the door behind him.
There are still five spots open for requests, flist!