ForagingSemerile
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He was stunning. The sun filtering through the windows cast a glow around his head, reflecting gold off his light colored hair. Castiel could spot freckles on the other man’s face, dotting his cheeks and nose like constellations and trailing down to his exposed neck and hands.
The man wore sunglasses, a tragedy, as Castiel found himself anxious to see what color would reflect in such a man’s orbs.
That was when the thought hit. He had a project due that week. He needed to sketch someone. That’s why he’d come down to the library--hoping to catch Sam studying and ask if he could draw his friend as he worked.
But... maybe this would be a perfect opportunity to say hello to the beautiful stranger?
Bookmarked by ForagingSemerile
21 Jun 2026
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Dean closed his eyes throughout the process. He didn’t realize he was humming until Cas stopped him with a whisper, “I hope you understand that your ability to speak doesn’t define who you are.”
Cas. Of course Cas would say something like that. Dean’s eyes fluttered open as he turned to look at Cas over his shoulder. The ex-angel was tying off the last stitch, gaze focused intently on Dean’s back. His hands were warm against his skin, distracting, but Dean focused hard on Cas’s lips, the way they moved as he spoke.
“Judging yourself by your ability to speak would be like me judging me ability to heal you in an instant.”
Bookmarked by ForagingSemerile
21 Jun 2026
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Summary
“You’re thinking too hard again,” Castiel mumbled after a moment, flicking away pencil shavings before he reached over for a new utensil. “You’re quiet.”
Dean hummed in response, hooking his chin over Cas’s shoulder so he could watch him work.
The new design was beautiful. It was supposed to be an entire back piece for Dean. He’d always liked the idea of wings, being able to fly away wherever he wanted. Damn his fear of heights. Dean thought it’d be cool on his terms. Also, wings now reminded him of Cas.
Dean shrugged and looked around Cas’s back studio, the relatively small office of Cas’s Enochian Parlor. “I don’t know,” he replied honestly. “Thinkin’ about your work.”
Series
- Part 2 of Angels & Demons 'verse
Bookmarked by ForagingSemerile
21 Jun 2026
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"Nobody wants to buy flowers from a demon."
Sam had said those words the day before Dean’s grand opening for his flower shop, an old business that had been long forgotten after the deaths of Dean’s mother, Mary Winchester, and aunt, Karen Singer. But Dean had never forgotten their dream, even after his eyes turned black when he was fifteen and everyone started treating him differently.
That’s what happened to everyone when they transitioned. Everyone started out as humans, but with time, they would eventually become who they were on the inside. A demon, a human, or an angel.
Dean was a demon. He wasn’t always sure why, but he had his guesses. But there was a certain order to things. Demons didn't sell flowers, humans minded their own business, and angels and demons tended to avoid each other. Always.
That is, until an angry angel showed up at Dean's shop after hours and refused to leave. Typical.
Series
- Part 1 of Angels & Demons 'verse
Bookmarked by ForagingSemerile
21 Jun 2026
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Summary
Sam almost didn’t notice at first. It was subtle, tiny things that were mentioned in passing, things that couldn’t be accounted for but passed so quickly it was forgotten moments later.
“I’ve always wondered,” Castiel said idly, as though they weren’t on a case, “how people have made so many different kinds of music from one instrument. It’s beautiful.”
“Chopin’s Nocturne,” Dean abruptly replied, without preamble. Sam didn’t have a moment to figure out what that meant before Dean covered it up and continued, “Cas, stop messing with the victim’s stuff. Are you even scanning the thing?”
Bookmarked by ForagingSemerile
21 Jun 2026