Title: Walk Through Fire At My Side
Author: Areiton
Artist: iouii
Rating: Mature
Pairings: Dean/Cas
Warnings/Tags: canon typical violence, war, minor character death, era typical slavery, imprisonment, hurt/comfort, pining, miscommunication, John is the actual worst, dead Lucifer
Posting Date: 11/1/2017Summary: Castiel was sent to Hadrian’s Wall as punishment, cut off from Rome and his powerful family. He intends to do his time, before he returns to a girl who loves him and a family he misses.
He doesn’t expect Sam, a wild mystic who rescues him, or his gruff and overprotective brother Dean, as violent and threatening as he is kind.
Dean doesn’t think he can tolerate a Roman, a Legate, not after his history in the arena. But Sam’s visions say that together, they’re safe, and Dean’s trusted those for longer than he can remember.As hostilities between their people increase and both are pressed into fighting a war they don’t believe in, Dean and Castiel are pulled apart by duty and family expectations. Balanced between an empire and a new world, Castiel and two brothers will fight for peace and a fragile chance at love.
– – –
He wakes first, and for a few moments, lays still, assessing the pain in his side, the low throb in his shoulder. He rolls it slightly, testing and appraising the stiffness.
It’s manageable. Not quite as sedate as he would prefer, but manageable.
He should leave.
Go back to Wall.
Gabriel will be furious and on edge–he was a little surprised that his impetuous brother had not started a war already, that no one had been sent over the Wall for him yet.
But then, maybe someone had.
And yet.
His head rolls to the side, and he sees Dean, sleeping close enough to touch.
He looks soft, gentle, his eyelashes twitching against freckled skin and intricate tattoos. Long hair, in clumps and braids, spreads like a wave around his head.
He’s from the heart of Rome, an Empire that prides itself on beauty and elegance, but he has never seen anything as lovely as this Pict warrior with a gentleness that startles him.
He wants to stay here. In this quiet peaceful glade, with Sam and his herbs and potions, with Dean and his rough voice and sharp glances.
He likes it here, more than he has any right to.
The sun is coming up, through the trees, birds singing louder in the forest.
He’s still watching Dean when the other man blinks awake, and he watches it, watches it wash over him like the sunrise, a slow flutter of long lashes and a sleepy smile that he knows damn well isn’t meant for him.
It’s the warmest look Dean has ever given him and he allows himself to reveal in it for longer than he should, while Dean wakes up.
“Good morning, Dean,” he whispers, into the quiet cabin.
“Mornin’, Blue,” Dean mumbles back and for a while, as the forest wakes beyond this small haven, they enjoy the silence together.
Tag: Read it!!!
So, once upon a time I signed up for the Cockles Big Bang and then… nothing happened. But I had an entire fic written for it. Why let perfectly good Cockles go to waste?
I’ll be posting a new chapter every Tuesday!
Wonderwall – A Cockles Mixtape
Misha and Jensen have it figured out, which is a miracle in and of its own considering the lives they lead, but miracles are fleeting and often not built to last. It’s a tough pill to swallow especially when they had thought they were going to be the exception.
–
Today was gonna be the day
But they’ll never throw it back to you
By now you should’ve somehow
Realized what you’re not to do
I don’t believe that anybody
Feels the way I do, about you nowAn excerpt:
The first time they kissed, they were drunk on an amazing bottle of bourbon that Misha gave Jensen to celebrate his engagement to Danneel. Jensen was supposed to share it with her but they opened it anyways and after watching Misha sip out of one of his glencairn glasses all night, his throat working as he swallowed the amber liquid with each drink, Jensen was done. Switched to autopilot, he calmly put his glass down, pulled the glass out of Misha’s hand, and slipped his arm around Misha’s waist. Pushing Misha back into the couch, he zoned into the curve where Misha’s neck and shoulder met and worked his mouth diligently up Misha’s throat and to his mouth. They kissed each other swollen and chapped until the sun came up the next day.
No Such Thing as Coincidence 