Supernatural Oneshots

Fighting For You 1/2 (Dean/Angel!Reader)

Dean/Angel!Reader
~What if Castiel didn't pull Dean from Hell, but an angel!reader did?

(w/c) = wing color
(Y/n) = your name

(Y/n) was born to fight, so was the hundreds of her brothers and sisters in her garrison. Being created last by their father was hard on her, having struggled her entire existence with being the 'baby' or 'child' of the flock.

Instead of partying like her fellow siblings did on their free time, she used the extra time for training; dedicating her life to being better than what the others had labeled on her. Her older brother, Castiel, was also the smallest in his garrison and had the same ambitions as (y/n). He needed to become recognised as something greater than the weakling.

Together, they formed a bond, a strong one, filled with helping each other climb the ranks, untill they were both the leaders of their garrisons.

Then the message came from the higher ups, one that sent the two friends scrambling for the top.

Dean Winchester must be freed from Hell

Clad in battle armour and sharpened angel blades, you and Castiel readied your garrisons for the soon-to-be blood bath. Aimed for the ground, you turn to your fellow siblings, who stared at you with mixed emotions. Going down the line you watched the emotions dance in their eyes and displayed by the twitching of their poised wings.

Fear, doubt, anger, sadness, happiness, courage, and determination was what you saw. As you returned to your position, you felt a sense of sadness. Some of these angels, your own brethren, would perish in Hell, some wouldn't even make the flight down there, for demons were already swarming at the entrance.

With a mighty roar, you, Castiel, and several other leaders launched from the sky, falling to the gates of Hell. Echoing the cry, millions of angels dropped from the sky, sun reflecting off polished blades and silvery armour.

Raising your blade, you slashed through the first demons, their cries of anguish filling your ears as you cut them down, several at a time. Between cries of victories from the angels were shrieks of anguish as wings were torn from backs, limbs ripped apart, throats being slashed, and angel's graces being torn from their bodies.

You sliced your way through the hoard, gasping as you realised you weren't to the gates yet. Turning, you watched hundreds of your fellow angels be slain right in front of you.

"They will not die in vain!" You bellowed, profound strength coursing through your veins.

You charged through the mass of writhing demons, blade in hand, outstretched in your bloody arms. Splicing through each of then, they glowed orange, turning to ash beneath your feet. Clearing out thousands of the worthless beasts before they could taste angel blood; you finally had made it.

Gazing up, you witnessed the gates, swirling patterns of unknown metal held together against the mountain of demons behind it, awaiting the foolish angel to dare to open the gate of their prison.

Bracing yourself, you began to press against the door, but a warm hand rested upon your shoulder. Turning your head, the hand was attached to Castiel. He placed a hand on yours, helping you with the burden of opening the gates of Hell.

Before getting it open an inch, demons began to slip out. You and Castiel leapt into the air, watching as countless demons leaked from the gates after pushing it completely open.

You dove to the battlefield, pulling up to glide above the heads of demons, as the struggling angels sped into Hell. Demons ripped angels from the air, pulling their wings from their body, and tossing them to burn in the flames. They retaliated against the angel's attacks, throwing hooks through the heated air, snagging unlucky angels as the rusted metal sank into pure Grace. Angels screamed in agony as sibling after sibling fell beside them, never to rise or fly again.