Suptober 2025 - Day 26 - Witchcraft
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Suptober 2025 - Day 26 - Witchcraft

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my version of Casâ true form in @ltleflrt amazing fic âAddicted to Youâ
this was just some fun to break out of a rut- love me some Cas and wings- and of course poor bewildered Dean đ
like my work and wanna support me? (also get access to the uncensored version đđ)
hit me up on kofi!
Tiny witches
I forgot about this doodle in all of the Suptober and DCBB rush! I hope you like them~ (I imagine Dean being an elemental witch and maybe Cas is a friendly necromancer *lol*)
Attention All!
You REALLY NEED TO. Read this story.
"You Cast, I Charge"
By @bowlegsandbiceps
Sam WAS the powerful warlock in the family. Dean just wants to sell his wares & work in his garden - nothing to do with the Grand Coven.
However, the "New Prophecy" put him in the middle of an apocalyptic level conflict.
Enter Cas: Dean's new Familiar (cat) who's ALSO an hot half Incubus.
So avenge Sam's death, when it could take powers from those willing to do anything to keep it, or give up power?
For @deanwbigbang
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
ayyy congrats on 500!! Prompt: witch/familiar au please?
@queenvee08, I live to serve <3 this is definitely going to be a longer fic at some point in the future i hope youâre happy with yourself
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âWhat do you think? Hellsbore or mandrake root?âÂ
Dean stops his perusal of the two herbs which, to be fair, look almost identical, to glance over at Cas.Â
Cas, who is still sulking from this morning, when Dean accidentally kicked him off the bed, doesnât answer. The only indication he gives that heâd heard Dean at all is the irritated flick of one ear in his direction.Â
Asshole stays in cat form when he wants to give Dean the silent treatment. And sure, Dean can hold a sulk with the best of them, but itâs also disconcerting to be ignored by someone whoâs intent on raising their hind leg and indulging in a thorough tongue bath. Especially when Dean knows that Cas only does that shit to get on his nerves.Â
âCome on. Cas. Come on. Asked you a question. Come on buddy.âÂ
Dean can feel Casâ low-grade frustration thrumming through their bond at the back of his mind. Itâs like having an annoying song that you just canât quite get out of your head, or a persistent itch that lingers, no matter how you contort your body to get at it. Itâs annoying, but ultimately not damaging. Except Dean is done being ignored. He truly does want Casâ opinion, seeing that he and Cas make a hell of a team (in the six months since he and Cas bonded, Deanâs understanding and abilities have only deepened, to the point that even Bobby says that with a little more practice, heâll make a hell of a witch), but more importantly, he wants Casâ company.Â
When heâs not being a grouchy little bastard, Cas is great to have around. If heâs in cat form, heâll laze on the counter, sunning himself and batting at the random bits of string that Dean dangles in front of him. After some trial and error and one memorable time when Dean yowled, Holy shit Cas your claws, as Cas failed to gain purchase and ended up dragging his claws down the back of Deanâs neck, heâs learned the trick of balancing on Deanâs shoulders as Dean fills orders and experiments to make different combinations of spells. Deanâs gotten used to Cas draping himself on the back of his neck, like a warm, furry weight (fucker is heavy). And then there are the times when Cas will just curl up next to him, or wrap himself around Deanâs ankles, butting his head against him. Itâs worth it then, for the daily allergy potion that he drinks (a twist of fate that his familiar ended up being a cat, the one animal that Deanâs allergic to, but itâs worth it if itâs Cas).Â
And if Cas is in human form, then thatâs even better, because heâll sit crosslegged on the counter and help Dean measure out ingredients for spells. Heâll read spells over Deanâs shoulder, suggesting improvements or modifications (Casâ practical knowledge of witchcraft is formidable, his intellect staggering and sharp; every time he speaks, Deanâs reminded that heâs in the presence of a mind much quicker than his own). Heâll even, if the mood strikes him, deal with customers. Deanâs seen more than one granny come tottering in, looking for a joint relief aid, and come waltzing out, starry-eyed, from a conversation with Cas.Â
Not that Dean blames them. Cas is gorgeous.Â
Heâs the kind of attractive that stops people in their tracks, the kind that makes people do an unironic double-take. When you add in that jawline, those shoulders, the long elegant fingers, thick runnerâs thighs, and perpetually messy bedhead, and multiply it by his pack-a-day deep voice, and then throw in his intelligenceâNo wonder that people are falling over themselves.Â
And thatâs the problem. Because Dean is one of those people.Â

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Chapter 23. It's a g-g-g-ghost!
Familiarity
Fandom: Supernatural Pairing: Destiel, Sabriel Rating: M Summary: Dean finds out heâs a witch. Castiel is his familiar.
[AO3][FF.n]
Sure Thing
Dean wipes his hands absentmindedly on the back pocket of his well worn jeans, leaving chalk dust behind. He stands proudly in the middle of a large sigil, drawn from memory by calloused hands. The cement floors of the basement have certainly seen better days, stained with blood and scorched with ash from past rituals. Castielâs footsteps creak above him, his bare feet padding across the hardwood floors of the green room. The weight of Deanâs boots knock loose more dust as he ascends the stairs.
âSâall set downstairs when you're ready.â Dean says by way of greeting as he comes up behind Cas, winding a hand around his slim waist. Cas hums in response, eyes on his hands while he gently plucks leaves from a hearty looking plant. Casâs indoor garden was a sight to behold, sprawling greenery and clay pots on every surface with a stunning variety of herbs, flowers, and weeds. He always looked so at ease back here, in his makeshift greenhouse Dean had brought to life by rigging LED lights. Cas had always been the one better with herbology, sure Dean could get by, but Cas understood, with his elegant fingers buried in the dirt.
âYou got everything else ready?âÂ
âYes, this is the last thing we need.â Cas affirms as he drops the spiky purple leaves into his mortar and pestle and begins to grind.
âAwesome.â Deanâs smile is genuine and he breaks it to drop a quick kiss on Casâs shoulder through his threadbare t-shirt.
The sun had long set on the corner store they owned. It was tucked away off the main downtown strip, filled with supplies for witches and humans in need of them. Charm bags and blessed tonics, aids for ailments of the mind and body, all displayed neatly.
After hours Dean did his bigger spells, the powerful old stuff that required complex ingredients and Casâs help.
Of course Dean always preferred to do his magic with Cas around.
They make their way down the rickety steps with supplies in hand, and set up in a comfortable silence.
Dean takes a moment to let his gaze rest on Cas, knelt down anointing candles. His jeans are dark and snug around his firm thighs and his hair is due for a cut, inky and dark where it curls behind his ears. As he stands, Dean is reminded of his true form, a sleek black cat with the same bottomless blue eyes.Â
Once everything is up to Deanâs meticulous standards, he kneels to untie his boots. He steps into the center of the sigil, feeling the electricity in his blood begin to circulate. His fingertips tingle and come to life, the hair on the back of his neck stands at attention. Heâs just getting used to the hum of the energy in the air when Cas joins him in the center and everything changes.
Cas is a powerhouse, his magic is unfathomable, old, made of stardust or pure light or something else Dean truly can't fathom. Before they were well and truly bonded Dean was flabbergasted, each touch from Castiel felt like a strike of heat lighting. Now though, their connection is a constant thrum somewhere between Deanâs ears, like a new sense. But when they pull off these big rituals, Dean is reminded of just how much power Cas has, and how he chooses to give it all to Dean.
Dean sets his shoulders and focuses inward. He reaches down, into his gut, into his soul or blood or wherever his magic resides, and draws it up. Deanâs magic is from his fatherâs side. Itâs old like all magic, familial in that itâs been passed down through the men in his family for generations. It used to hurt. It took him years to build the pain tolerance to even light a candle without a flame or even read a simple tarot. His arms and hands are covered in neat white scars from the blood letting. It's brute magic. It takes strength and sacrifice to get results.
With Castiel though, it's beautiful.Â
Dean reaches out to take Casâs hand, and he cheekily presses a quick kiss there before he closes his eyes to focus.Â
This time when he reaches for his magic, it's a bright ball of possibilities welling up inside.Â
He holds his breath a moment, letting the lick of heat inside him grow into a raging forest fire. He takes a deep breath and begins to chant.Â
The candles surround the sigil spring to life and the sigil glows a bright white. The smell of the herbs and ingredients are heady as their fragrance intensifies.Â
Dean lets it all well up, until it feels about to spill over. He opens his eyes to see Casâs, catches a glance at his expression which is confident but soft. He knows Dean will succeed in this, they've certainly had harder rituals than this, but even then he remained sure. His faith in Dean is a constant. Thatâs Cas though, heâs always been a sure thing.
The rings nestled in the center of their ritual are smoking and the metal glows with scorching heat. The bands are nothing fancy, just a simple silver Dean had engraved with the date they met. By the end of this they'd be blessed with Dean and Castielâs combined energy. By the end of the day tomorrow though, they'd be blessed by the state and represent a much more legally binding union.Â
The rhythm of Deanâs chanting slows and comes to a stop as he finishes. He lets lose a long breath as the wave of crackling energy spills over. Deanâs pounding heartbeat slows a bit and he opens his eyes.
Casâs smile is brilliant. He reserves this one for Dean, wide and gummy and wrinkling his nose. Dean returns it with one his own. He picks up the now cool rings and rests them in his palm. Theyâve planned a modest and cozy ceremony for sunset in the backyard. Sam will cry, Dean wonât ever admit it but so will he. Theyâve already bonded for life, the wedding is in some ways just paperwork but to Dean it's more. He hasnât always been able to bank on a lot of things. But Cas, he can always be sure of.
41.Witch/Familiar and 44.Blind Date for Dean/Cas?
(send me two tropes + a pairing)
Castiel sits in the corner booth of a small cafĂŠ and waits. He has read through the menu about five times now and now there is nothing for him to do but stare out the window and wonder if every person who passes by is there for him.
He hasnât been on a date in a while, not since he began the search for his witch. Now that he seems to have found him, his brother Balthazar has decided that he needs to turn his attention back to his love life.
Not that Castiel is certain that he and his witch are a good match yet. He likes Dean and their magic is compatible but he hasnât yet allowed Dean to learn his name or see his human form. Theyâre still getting to know each other, building up trust, and Castiel would much rather be focusing on that.Â
The only reason he agreed to go on this date is because he knows heâs in serious danger of pining after Dean. He is a good looking man, kind and attentive to a fault, but mixing magic and romance is rarely a good idea.Â
The doors to the cafĂŠ open, catching Castielâs attention. His heart skips a beat when he sees that it is Dean who has entered. He is dressed in a nice, pale-blue shirt, looking around the cafĂŠ nervously.
He spots Castiel and begins to approach him, and Castielâs stomach drops when he realizes why Dean is here.
He is Castielâs blind date.