13 Works by godtiering
Listing Works
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Today I was going through my computer and google drive and I found a bunch of abandoned wips, most of which I had completely forgotten I even worked on. I thought I would organize them and post them up here in their incomplete form. I wrote most of these in 2017, when I was 20 but I think a couple of them are from 2018 when I was 21.
The last time I completed something and posted it to ao3 was summer 2018, I miss writing a lot! Since then, I've graduated university and adopted a cat. I'm super into The Untamed now, I'm sure at least a few of you can relate. It's strange to think that almost everything about my life right now is connected to Supernatural fandom and the friends I've made there. I genuinely cannot extricate the narrative of the past few years of my life from Supernatural. I think that is it's legacy, but it's mine and yours to take the credit for. I'll always care about Dean Winchester and like, who knows man? Maybe it isn't the end for me and him.
I'll provide fic descriptions and any applicable warnings in the chapter notes. I haven't really edited anything from the way it was when I found it, only insofar as to format it.
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Dean is dead now and he won’t return any of Castiel’s phone calls.
He’s been staying in Dean’s room, sleeping in his bed, haunting the space. He twists up the sheets and leaves a new shape in the mattress like a poltergeist making itself comfortable.
He touches Dean’s possessions, moves them around the room. He reads his books, finding all the places where Dean left notes in the margins, all the creases left behind from past dog ears marking past places. Cas leaves some dog ears of his own, and he can’t stop tracing his fingers over the passages Dean has underlined, words he has circled. Did you think about this? he talks to Dean so much these days. Or if you’d rather, more accurately, he talks to himself all the time lately. He thinks to himself. In the darkest, emptiest, most hopeless moments of your life, did these words ever come to you like a beacon from a lighthouse. Did they help you keep from crashing on the rocks?
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Dean laughs. "What," Cas says flatly. "What's funny."
Dean grins. "Oh my god, nothing, just...like it's still so weird hearing you swear. And I can't think of that many expletives that would just be.... more on the nose."
Cas gives him a withering look. "Really."
"Dude you get what I mean though right, like-"
"Would you like it if I said 'oh my father' instead of 'oh my god'", Cas says and Dean goes Oh Jesus Cas please don't-. "Would that be funny to you."
"Oh my god Cas-I mean, holy shit-I mean…Jesus," Dean can't stop laughing. "Oh fuck."
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But if it is preached that Christ has been raised from the dead, how can some of you say that there is no resurrection of the dead?
If there is no resurrection of the dead, then not even Christ has been raised.
And if Christ has not been raised, our preaching is useless and so is your faith.Series
- Part 9 of season 12
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“You don’t trust me, not completely,” he says, holding up one hand when Castiel opens his mouth to respond. “That’s not a criticism. It’s smart. You shouldn’t give away your faith for free.”
Castiel huffs an amused breath. “There’s an irony there,” he says. “In human terms, I think. The idea of angels withholding faith.”
“You should know better than anyone,” Kelvin says, smiling warmly. “You are the holy crusader of angelic free will, after all.”
Series
- Part 8 of season 12
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Angels are watching over you.
It’s dark outside, but she can see the stars. Castiel, angel of God, is kissing her son.
They’re leaned up against the Impala, Dean’s back to the door. He has Dean’s face cradled reverently in his hands, and Dean is crying. Dean has his arms wrapped around Castiel’s shoulders, underneath his arms, as if he’s trying to pull him in as close as possible. He’s rubbing his thumbs distractedly against Castiel’s neck, while Castiel runs his hands all over his face, occasionally wiping away tears that trail down his cheeks. They pull apart and breathe in and she sees, rather than hears, Dean sigh soul-achingly deep. Castiel strokes his thumbs gently underneath Dean’s eyes where tear stains have gathered. Dean laughs, the sound watery, and they press their foreheads together. He turns his face inward, his eyelashes brushing Castiel’s cheek. His arms cling tighter and Castiel rubs the tip of his nose gently against the side of Dean’s.
Series
- Part 7 of season 12
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I worry that I never really came back from hell. I wonder why, if I got remade by heaven, I’m still the same screwed up kid that I always was.
Sometimes I worry I’m not into women at all.
"Guess not,” he looks at his shoes.
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“Whoa, that sounds cool,” Dean says. “Imagine an angel driving my car? That’d be kinda sexy actually.”
Sam just blinks at him. “I’ll take your word for it.”
“Come on dude, don’t you think about stuff like that?” Dean continues. “Like that guy working the motel front desk is kinda sexy too, don’t you notice that shit? You gotta get a pair of eyes, man.”
Series
- Part 6 of season 12
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“It’s all right, Dean,” Cas set a frame down and turned to look at him. “As you said before, I know who my friends are.”
Dean’s heart stuttered a beat and he mumbled a brief yeah, okay, before shuffling around awkwardly pretending to examine the room. Castiel reached out and caressed the side of a photo frame, just once, briefly.
Psyching himself up, Dean got ready for another shot at Expressing Emotion in a Healthy Way. “Hey,” he approached Cas. “You know you deserve to be treated good, right? You know you don’t deserve all the shit people’ve put on you, or the stuff any feathered dicks try to blame you for. You’ve always done your best to uh-to do the right thing. Sometimes-it’s easy for people to dump their shit on someone who’s willing to take on shit to help out. But man, it’s not your job to-” his words cut off in a stuttered sigh as Castiel turned and pulled him into a tight hug.
Series
- Part 5 of season 12
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“Was that so hard?” Dean’s tone is clipped and irritated. He drums his fingers restlessly on the steering wheel. Sam’s eyes flick back and forth between the two of them, emotions ranging from concern to irritation. Dean adjusts the mirror until Castiel’s face comes back into view and Cas immediately drops his gaze so their eyes don’t meet.
They drive in silence.
Being in the same room as Dean and Cas when they’re having one of their little I care about you too much tiffs has always been a trial, but being trapped in a car with a pissed, petulant angel of the lord and your antsy, combative big brother has got to count as some legitimate form of torture. Sam should be calling the Geneva Convention or whoever the hell it is who deals with that sort of shit. He should be getting the United Nations on the phone. Sam feels like he’s watching an ongoing battle of wills-he honestly wouldn’t be surprised if they had found a way to argue through thoughts, or purely by attempting to project emotion at one another, wielding intent as a projectile.
Series
- Part 4 of season 12
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Afterwards, they pile back into the car in silence. As Mary starts up the engine, in the backseat Castiel stares at Dean with accusation in his eyes. He swallows the lump in his throat and angles himself away from Cas, ashamed.
Castiel won’t have that. He reaches, peels Dean’s trembling fingers away from where they’re clutching his leg and laces their fingers together again with a grip that’s almost violent, like he’s holding onto a fraying rope that’s the only thing keeping him from falling from a cliff into a stormy ocean. He only lets it go when the car stops.
Series
- Part 3 of season 12
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“Oh wow,” Max leans in. “So Castiel is real? You guys an item? ‘Cause if not, tell him to hit me up, I’ve heard he’s super dreamy.”
Dean, valiantly attempting to take another drink, begins to have a coughing fit.
Alicia pushes at her twin’s shoulder. “God, stop being so insatiable,” she giggles.
“What can I say?” Max grins, bright and joyful. “You seduce the ladies, and I seduce the men,” he winks cartoonishly at her, flinging his arm across the back of the couch.
Dean’s next gulp misses his mouth and dribbles down his shirt.
Series
- Part 2 of season 12
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“Dean,” he struggles to find the words, the English words, to express himself. “Were you sincere, when you said that you believe I belong here? With you?”
“I-yeah, Cas, of course I meant it,” he touches Castiel’s arm again. Just once. Just lightly. “We’re family.”
He feels vulnerable, pinned down by the weight of Castiel’s suddenly intense stare. “What kind of family are we, Dean?” he squints and furrows his eyebrows, tilting his head. Dean feels himself involuntarily tilt his head in empathetic response, as if he’s attached to him by a fucking invisible string.Cas is leaning into his space now and Dean isn’t edging away, isn’t stuttering out a defensive Cas, personal space like he always has before.
Series
- Part 1 of season 12