bringmepiebitch:

mynameiscastiel:

Oh, Dean, I would never kill you. *he says simply* You have done so well in serving me thus far. You are helping me rid the world of evil.

*he tilts his head, a small, cold smirk* Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted?

I think you missed one *he growls, eyes flashing as he kicks helplessly (but determinedly) at any seemingly vulnerable chink in the demi-god’s armor*

This isn’t you, Cas! I know you! *he pleads, staring straight into his blue eyes, so cold and hard as sapphire*  Just fucking stop already. I’m fucking sorry for everything. Just stop!

*He laughs, a low, throaty noise. His voice is getting distorted, layered with something else, a low, disgusting gurgle.* But it is, Dean Winchester. This is me at my true potential. Free will has let me become a god. The God.

*He noses along Dean’s neck, pausing to look up at him with passing interest* And what are you sorry for?

bringmepiebitch:

mynameiscastiel:

Yes, I would *his voice is thick with the souls, eyes becoming a darker blue—beautiful, yet inhuman* You are the most important person to me, Dean. I have to make you mine. Follow me, worship me, adore me, fear me. Do my bidding. I have to train you.

*He scrapes at him with his blunt nails, leaving little half-moon crescents on his wrists, but not drawing blood, never drawing blood.  He struggles, vision clouding at the corners, heart panicking in his chest from lack of oxygen.*

I’d rather die *he spits out in a last attempt to fight back, accepting the inevitable end of this situation.*

Oh, Dean, I would never kill you. *he says simply* You have done so well in serving me thus far. You are helping me rid the world of evil.

*he tilts his head, a small, cold smirk* Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted?

bringmepiebitch:

You’re not…Cas. *he gasps, spitting at him through clenched teeth, clawing at his arms with his blunt nails.  His fingers brush against cold metal of his angel sword, just barely out of reach.  Almost, come on, so fucking close…*

Cas would…never…do this!  *he kicks at his shins uselessly, his vision starting to haze and darken, movements sloppy and uncoordinated, brain shutting down*

Cas…

Yes, I would *his voice is thick with the souls, eyes becoming a darker blue—beautiful, yet inhuman* You are the most important person to me, Dean. I have to make you mine. Follow me, worship me, adore me, fear me. Do my bidding. I have to train you.

bringmepiebitch:

mynameiscastiel:

*He pretends to ponder it, then smirks, more serious and cold.* That would be nice, Dean. But I have a job to do. I will not abandon this world as my Father before me. I will make this a paradise where there is no evil. For you, Dean.

*He sucks on Dean’s nipple again, this time with superhuman strength, mouth so hard that it hurts.* Isn’t that what you want, Dean? For the world to be rid of evil? So that you and Sam could live normal, happy lives?

*His voice is cold, trying to appeal to Dean logically, and there’s a tiny part of him, him, that’s screaming that this isn’t right, to stop this immediately. But he ignores it, like a person on drugs, a new addiction.*

*He lifts his head to look at Dean with dark, predatory eyes, still that cold amusement.* You still do not see that I am only trying to make the world better. You do not see that since I am God, I will destroy all evil in the world. You think I’m evil, don’t you?

*He grips Dean by the throat in a second, choking him, voice sounding inhuman, nothing like Castiel’s.* Don’t you!

*He gasps, struggling against his hold, his superhuman strength crushing his windpipe.  He fights the urge to panic, thirty years of survival training kicking in.  He claws at his hand, whining and gasping, more dramatic than strictly necessary, one hand sliding into his trenchcoat, searching for the ex-angel’s sword.*

*Maybe…maybe Dean will just have to kill him.  Or be killed.  He’s not sure which one’s worse at this point.*

*Castiel lets him fight back, hand around his throat still tight enough to choke him, but not enough to kill him. He doesn’t want that, not at all. Not when Dean could be so useful to him, so more more than a man who hates him. He could learn to love him, and be by his side as his most powerful follower, smiting those who dare oppose Castiel.*

I’m not evil, Dean. *he says, voice thick with souls* I’m still your Castiel.

bringmepiebitch:

Punish them how?

*He asks carefully, quiet yet suspicious, like he’s stepping on thin ice and may fall in at any second if it cracks too much, green eyes trying to see past this horrifying thing in Cas and find the real him, his angel locked somewhere deep inside him*

Because if I know anything about the world, it’s the Bert and Ernie are gay… *he quips, using the old joke again, the words painful as he remembers the last time he says them, heart clenching in his chest like a painful vice*

…and that there’s always gonna be evil in the world.

*He shrugs, swallowing, trying to be careful around this Castiel, to keep on his good side and pull Cas out from under the dark, ominous power filling him, the tainted souls condemning him.*

Maybe you should take a vacation for a few days. *says lightly* We both could. Drop the souls off and head to the Caribbean, what do ya say? *swallows, trying to keep the hopefulness out of his eyes as he stares at him.*

*He pretends to ponder it, then smirks, more serious and cold.* That would be nice, Dean. But I have a job to do. I will not abandon this world as my Father before me. I will make this a paradise where there is no evil. For you, Dean.

*He sucks on Dean’s nipple again, this time with superhuman strength, mouth so hard that it hurts.* Isn’t that what you want, Dean? For the world to be rid of evil? So that you and Sam could live normal, happy lives?

*His voice is cold, trying to appeal to Dean logically, and there’s a tiny part of him, him, that’s screaming that this isn’t right, to stop this immediately. But he ignores it, like a person on drugs, a new addiction.*

*He lifts his head to look at Dean with dark, predatory eyes, still that cold amusement.* You still do not see that I am only trying to make the world better. You do not see that since I am God, I will destroy all evil in the world. You think I’m evil, don’t you?

*He grips Dean by the throat in a second, choking him, voice sounding inhuman, nothing like Castiel’s.* Don’t you!

bringmepiebitch:

Oh, is that all?

*He quips shakily, his bravado thin and so very see-through, his resolve splintering and fraying at the ends with every touch and not-quite loving caress, in the way Cas’ eyes almost flash with familiarity and then darken and cool into an icy stare, the head tilt foreign yet achingly similar.*

*It’s killing him, this fucked up almost-Cas, once-Cas, what the hell ever he is now that isn’t Cas but still looks like him. He hates it because it’s a monster and he should kill it. But he can’t.  Not when those blue eyes bore into him like they can still read his soul.*

If I do… *he swallows and wets his lips, taking a chance*

And I’m not saying I do, and I’m not saying I don’t. *His voice gains a cocky edge, strengthening slightly* But, if I did, y’know, love you…

*His green eyes flicker up, caged and wary, locking onto Cas’ own cold blue stare*

Would you let the souls go?

*His gaze flickers, just briefly, only a tiny fraction of a second. But his lips quirk up in a loving smile, so disturbingly sweet*

Of course, Dean.

*He noses down his throat, scraping his teeth down, the action gentle but breaking the skin, just enough to draw a tiny droplet of blood to the surface.*

These souls are merely a stepping stone in making the world a perfect place. The true Heaven.

*The tiny droplet trickles down the middle of Dean’s chest, and he catches it on his tongue.*

My true Heaven. When all the evil of this world has been obliterated, I will rest.

*He curls his tongue around a nipple, sucking the skin around it hard enough to form a bruise.*

It took my Father six days of work before he rested on the Seventh, and look where it has gotten him. Crime, wars, hatred. His world was not perfect, but tainted with evil.

*He takes the tiny nub into his mouth and sucks, the action so disturbingly gentle and reverent.*

I will not be so lazy like my Father before me. I will work for as long as there is evil on this world. His children are misbehaving, Dean. And only I have the power to punish them.

bringmepiebitch:

*He growls, because there’s no way in hell he’s answering that, not now, not ever. He crushes their mouths together in a heated, angry kiss to deflect from the question, all clashing teeth and tongues and bruised, bleeding lips.*

*He kisses back, letting Dean feel like he’s in control, at least for now. Then he pulls back, smirking, eyes roaming over Dean’s half-naked body. He bites on Dean’s jaw, a disturbingly playful nip.*

That’s all I want from you, Dean. For you to love me.

*He roams a hand over the smooth flesh of Dean’s bare chest, his face still watching Dean with a cold intensity.*

Your loyalty. Respect. For you at my side always.

*He flicks a thumbnail over Dean’s nipple, eyes never leaving Dean’s face, watching him. His Power holds Dean down, bounding his body, paralyzing him, rendering Dean completely powerless, completely at his mercy.*

For you to bow down to me and worship me. To respect me as a more powerful being than you. As your God.

*He grabs Dean’s jaw in one hand, forcing Dean to look at him. His voice is a low purr, lips quirked up in a half-smile.*

Can you do that for me, Dean?

bringmepiebitch:

*It’s the gentleness that makes him stop fighting for a second, halting him mid-growl of frustration as he struggles against the invisible force holding him against the wall. He stares into Cas’ furious blue eyes, searching, hoping, as blood drips from his lip onto his smooth chest, sliding down the firm, tanned muscles.*

*He’s panting heavily and he can almost taste the adrenaline as blood pools into his mouth, coating his swollen lips with sticky crimson, green eyes angry and scared and dark with lust, a myriad of emotions playing across his face as his mask slips and he loses the last card he had to play.*

*He stops, tilting his head, stopping the bleeding but not fully healing the wound. He looks at Dean with a cold, calculating look, as if Dean is a laboratory experiment that Cas is documenting. He watches Dean’s eyes, the expressions flickering in them, then looks at him in a mockery of the angel he used to be, that cold smile on his lips.*

Tell me, Dean. Do you love me?