#and I didn’t even take him to the deans MY ADVISOR DID | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bamsywrites · 4 years ago

Text

Mistakes Like These

Summary: Kakyoin never paid much attention to the younger Kujo. Who knew stockings and short skirt were all it would take change that

Rating: 18+, nsfw

Words: 4877

Warnings: cannabis mention, alcohol use

Tags: afab, fem pronouns, modern!au , doesn’t follow the canon like at all, very au, brother!jotaro x sister!reader, kakyoin x reader, soft dom kak, lots of pet names, plus size reader

Notes: I haven’t written any fanfiction in over five years so this might be rusty. I’m sorry for any mistakes made or if its not how the characters would act. I’m still new to the Jojos fandom but had this idea pop in my head and decided to get it out. I want to turn this in to a multi part story and have several parts already planned out, I just want to have feedback to see if people actually like it.

“Have a happy Holidays. Make sure to check in with your financial advisor about the spring semester.”

A sigh escaped your lips as you read the most recent email in your student inbox. Patience may be a virtue, but it was sure one you didn’t possess. At least not right now anyway. Tsking your tongue against the roof of your mouth, you moved the mouse over to the refresh button and clicked. Your eyes followed the downloading icon in circles, fingers tapping anxiously over the desk.

“Have a happy Holidays. Make sure to check in with your financial advisor about the spring semester.”

You exhaled angrily through your nose and leaned back in your chair. Your eyes fixed on the ceiling for a few moments before you looked over to your bed where your cat, Miso, had woken up from his nap.

“I know I should be more patient. But this grade is what determines if I move on to the next course which I need if I want to graduate soon and get out of this apartment.” You spoke as if your cat had scolded you for your impatience.

Your apartment was nice. Super nice. Your friends often described it as “apartment goals.” You could have never afforded it on your own. Hell, you couldn’t afford it even when you graduated and got a job. Two large bedrooms with a spacious living room, modern kitchen, and a balcony that overlooked the cities skyline. There were only two major downsides: there was only one bathroom which had to be shared with your roommate and your roommate happened to be your older brother, Jotaro.

Now, you didn’t exactly hate your brother. He was like any older brother, he thought you were extremely annoying and wanted nothing to do with you most of the time, though there were times growing up where he’d come home with scrapes and bruises after dealing with someone who picked on you at school. As you were both older, you found each other more bearable than you did when you were younger. That didn’t mean, however, you wanted to live with him. Especially while you were in college, which was supposed to be your time to let loose and have fun while still receiving an education, of course. Your grandfather, however, had other plans.

Joseph Joestar was a real estate mogul and had some serious money to his name. He loved to dote on his two grandchildren and was upset that for the most part your parents chose to give you a “normal” life without the extravagance that he offered. Birthdays and christmas he would buy you each a present, until Jotaro turned 15 and started asking for money instead. He made your mother an offer that he knew she couldn’t deny: he would pay for the entirety of your schooling, from associates degree to PhD if thats what you wanted, in order for the two of you to focus on your studies he’d also give you a weekly allowance so that you wouldn’t have to work, and he’d buy you each your own apartment and pay to furnish it how you liked. Holly couldn’t turn down the offer, what kind of mother would deny her children an opportunity like that? However, she did ask that her father only buy a single apartment for her children to share. Her hopes were that it would strengthen your relationship and it also meant she could see both her darling children whenever she desired.

You didn’t want to seem ungrateful at all for what Jiji had done for you. You knew you were extremely privileged to have the opportunities that he provided you but, fuck, sometimes you wished you had your own place. You wanted the independence, to know you earned something but also because sharing a bathroom with Jojo was infuriating. He always moved your stuff, never cleaned the shower, and he never had patience for you to get ready in the mornings. A wishful sigh left your lips as you thought of your future, with just you, Miso, and the ability to use the bathroom whenever you wanted.

Your eyes moved back to the computer screen, clicking refresh, and rolling your eyes when you read the same email from the dean again. Like you expected anything different, you just turned the term paper in yesterday. You brought your cup of tea up to your lips but furrowed your eyebrows when you realized there was none left.

Pushing yourself up out of your chair you formulated a plan for the rest of your evening. You would refill your cup of tea, hop back on your computer to play Overwatch with your friends until the early hours of the morning, and then cuddle up with Miso and look at TikToks until you fell asleep. It was foolproof. No way that you would even think about your term paper grade.

And if you did, you could always refresh your email in between matches.

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Your finger tapped your lip as you looked over all the snack foods in the pantry. While waiting for your tea, you realized that the only thing that could make your plan better was a good snack. You had just gone shopping so it meant that all the poky, ramen, and chips you desired were on the shelves and it made the decision extra hard.

In the middle of your contemplation, you heard the front door turn and the sound of your brother and his friends entering the apartment.

“You know it's true, Jotaro. Your apartments bigger. Its nicer. It has that view that drives the ladies wild. Our apartment is cramped and it smells like weed.” Polnareff’s voice was the first you heard as the trio entered the house.

“Don’t forget the upstairs neighbors who are always playing loud polish music.” Kakyoin added, plopping down to sit on one of the chairs in the living room.

You heard your brother sigh and could feel his annoyance. You never understood how the trio became friends, it was a mystery to everyone including them but they had been together since their days in primary school and the bond they shared was one that intrigued you.

“Yes, yes. The polish,” Polnareff nodded. “Known around the world for their ability to ruin the mood with a hurdy-gurdy.”

There was silence, and you could tell your brother was not budging a bit. A party was not Jotaros thing. Kakyoin wasn’t a partier either, from what you gathered he’d much rather stay at home playing video games and smoking weed. Sucking your bottom lip in your mouth, you made your decision, grabbing a bag of chips and a box of strawberry pocky. You did your best to hold those in one hand and your cup of tea in the other.

“Feel that Christmas spirit, Jo. Help Pol in his never ending crusade to get laid. The poorman is gonna end this year with, what, a batting average of zero. He’ll be a disgrace to French men everywhere.” The teasing tone Kakyoins voice almost made you laugh.

“Hey! Batting average of 3. You know this,” Polnareff shot back, causing his roommate to throw his hands up in mock surrender.

“Jotaro,” The french man turned his attention back to your brother, who simply turned on the TV in what seemed to be an attempt to drown out the sound of his friend's voice, “C’mon. I’ll buy your cigarettes for a month…..Two months?” His voice was getting more desperate, his head turned toward you. A smile stretched across his features as he jumped off the couch and threw his arms around your shoulder.

God, you just wanted to go to your room.

“New deal,” Polernaff declared, squeezing you to the side of his body as you tried not to splash your tea all over the floor. Kakyoin looked away from the TV, eyebrow raised, Jotaros attention never faltered from the knock-off Viagra commercial. “If you agree to a Christmas Eve party I will buy you cigarettes for three months, I will never ask anything of you ever again, and I will stop flirting with your sister.”

Kakyoin snorted, shaking his head and turning his attention to Jotaro. Since you had moved in with Jotaro, the frenchman hadn’t stopped making comments about how beautiful he thought you were or just giving you flirty winks whenever you walked through the room. You found it annoying at first, but you quickly got over it when you realized he did the same thing with every girl, and boy, that he saw.

“Good grief,” Jotaro sighed. “Its a deal.”

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“I can’t believe you agreed to this.” Kakyoin mumbled as he and Jotaro watched their friend place the final touches on the decorations and food for the party. Y/N had already put up Christmas decorations earlier that month, there was some snowmen set out on the dining table and a cute tree with some presents neatly wrapped under it. However, Polnareff had decided that wasn’t enough. He had hung up snowflakes to come down from the ceiling, there was garland hung on every wall, and so much fucking mistletoe.

Polnareff had even requested that his friends dress festive. Jotaro, of course, didn’t listen and wore what he always wore. Kakyoin decided to humor his friend and wore a Santa hat along with a dark green v-neck and dark wash jeans.

“You don’t need the money, right? Grandpa Joestar’s allowance has to be enough for cigarettes.” He continued, watching his roommate place a bowl of peppermints by the door.

“I just wanted to get him to shut up,” Jotaro said with a roll of his eyes.

“You think he’ll actually follow through on leaving Y/N alone?”

Jotaro shook his head, “Out of all the people in this city, you’d think he’d leave the only one of limits alone.”

Kakyoin simply nodded, taking a sip of his drink.

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You smoothed your hands over your outfit, turning to the side to get it from a different angle. You couldn’t decide if you liked it or not. The sweater was cute, it was red with a deep green christmas tree that had colorful little puff balls as the ornaments. Your make-up and hair looked nice, too. That wasn’t what concerned you. It was the white pleated skirt and tight red stockings that caused you pause. You grabbed at your love handles that spilled over the top of the skirt a bit and your eyes traveled to how your thighs looked in the stockings.

Polnareff had told you you could invite some friends over. Which, of course you could, this was your apartment and you didn’t need his permission. You had told him as such and invited over your three closest friends.

You turned around to your bed and looked at Miso, who was comfortably curled up. “How do I look?” You waited a moment before turning back to the mirror and smacking your lips together. You were tempted to take off the skirt and tights and throw a pair of jeans on but something changed your mind last minute. Instead of heading to your closet to change, you instead grabbed the reindeer antler hand band and slipped it on top of your hair before heading out of the safety of your bedroom.

You were so distracted with the new decorations that you didn’t notice the pair of eyes that were glued to your form.

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Simply Having a Wonderful Christmastime was playing for what seemed like the fifth time. Kakyoin had never hated Paul McCartney more than he did now. He was just now starting to feel the buzz of all the drinks he had had but it didn’t make the party any more bearable.

“She,” Kakyoin pointed to a blonde girl in a Santa dress, “is gonna hook up with him,” He pointed to a dark haired main that had for some reason felt the need to take his shirt off.

Jotaro simply grunted before eyeing more of the members of the party. This was a game they’d been playing for the past hour and a half, making bets on who was gonna hook up with who and who was gonna get the most shit faced.

“He’s gonna end up passed out in my bathtub,” The dark haired man stated, pointing to the only person dancing to the playlist Polnareff had created.

Kakyoin broke a smile as he watched the clearly wasted man's horrible dance moves. His attention was brought away from the scene by the sound of Y/N’s laugh. For what had to be the millionth time that night, the red haired man eyed her up and down. That outfit looked so fucking good on her but the smile streched out across her lips looked even better.

I wonder what the lipstick would look like smeared on my cock.

The thought slipped into his head and he couldn’t stop from staring at the red painted on your lips.

Does she feel as soft as she looks?

He took a sip from his cup. He knew he shouldn’t be thinking about his hands running over her thighs or his fingers digging into her hips. It was strange that he was having these thoughts. He’d never viewed Y/N as more than just Jotaro’s younger sister. He never thought she was ugly, in fact there were multiple times that he thought she was down right gorgeous but it had never turned sexual. Something about that outfit had sent him over that edge.

The sound of Last Christmas brought him out of his trance. Kakyoin almost immediately rolled his eyes. He almost missed the hurdy-gurdy.

“Good grief,” Jotaro mumbled and grabbed the pack of cigarettes off the coffee table. “I’m heading out for a smoke.”

Kakyoin watched as his best friend got up but instead of heading for the balcony, Jotaro went out the front door. The red haired man was tempted to follow but as soon as that thought popped into his mind he heard the drunk voice of his other best friend call to him.

“Kak, you gotta show these guys the cherry thing!”

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It was well past 3. The party had ended and most of the attendants took an Uber home. The only people in the apartment were you, Polnareff, and Kakyoin. Jotaro had still not returned from that smoke he said he was going to take hours ago. The buzz had long worn off and the reality sank in that you had to clean the disaster of an apartment that was left in the christmas party’s wake.

There were red solo cups strewn about various surfaces and all over the floor, glitter seemed to have gotten everywhere, there were plates of food left half eaten, and there was a candy cane just stuck to the wall. Looking at the destruction, you almost wondered if the fun you had had was worth it. With your parents coming over tomorrow...or, well, today…..for Christmas, you had really no other option than to clean it, with that thought in your head you grabbed a garbage bag and started cleaning.

After a few minutes, you heard the familiar rustle of plastic as someone was opening a trash bag and you turned to see Kakyoin helping you with your task.

“Thanks,” You told him as you threw a plate of half eaten cake into the bag.

“No problem. Pol is passed out in the hallway and I gotta make sure Jo makes it home safe, so I’m kinda stuck here.”

You simply nodded in response and kept about your task in silence. A silence which seemingly bothered Kakyoin because a few minutes later he cleared his throat and broke the silence.

“So I, uh, noticed your man wasn’t here tonight.” He almost smacked himself for asking the question. You thought he was just making small talk, the thought of him having more devious reasons behind asking if you were single hadn’t crossed your mind.

“My….My man?” You quirked an eyebrow, looking back over your shoulder at him.

“Yeah, your man. I saw you with some guy a while back,” Kakyoin had put down the now full trash bag and was leaning against the counter top with his arms crossed as he spoke.

“Oh,” You suddenly realized who exactly he was talking about, “Yeah, um, we broke up six months ago,” You said with a laugh.

“Oh...Six months?” He titled his head to the side, “Are you sure? Hmm… Well, sorry I didn’t notice...I uh guess I should be more observant.

You shook your head, placing down your own bag and heading past him to the pantry to grab another. “Its alright, I’m not offended. I’m sure you find me as annoying as I find Jotaros friends.”

Kakyoin raised his eyebrows at your statement, “You find me annoying? I mean, Pol, I get. Yeah. He’s one of my closest friends and even I can’t handle him sometimes. But me? I never talk to you.”

You had busied yourself with cleaning the rest of the cups off the counter, “ I don’t know. You’re just…” You looked up and noticed his eyes quickly flick down to your lips before making eye contact with you again. “I mean, you did one time give me oregano and told me it was weed.”

“First,” Kakyoin started, his body shifted so it was turned toward you, “Thats not annoying. I would call that immature, maybe. But annoying? Nah. Second,” he threw up two fingers to emphasize his point, “ In my defense, you were 15 and I was worried about you finding our stash under Jo’s bed and I thought it would lessen that chance if I gave you your own stash.”

You laughed, setting the bag down and turning to look at him. You couldn’t help but notice how good he looked in that dark green shirt but you quickly willed that thought away. “Kakyoin, that doesn’t make any sense.”

“Hey, at the time it did.”

You tilted your head to the side, you had plenty of stories that you could use as proof that he was annoying, “ What about that time you and Jojo left me stranded at school because the new playstation came out?”

“Thats not fair,” He noticed the playful hint your voice was taking and it caused a small smile to tug at his lips.

“How about the time that you threw up in my make up bag?”

“Hey, that was all Frenchie. Not me.”

“Or…..” You were silenced by Kakyoin pressing a finger to your lips. You hadn’t noticed that the two of you had just kept moving closer and closer as you were talking. You could get a better look at him now, his eyes looked tired but there was a mischievous glint to them, proof to you that he found this just as amusing as you did.

“What about you, huh? You saying that you’ve never been annoying?” He cocked an eyebrow, giving you a knowing look that let you know he had as many stories about you that you had about him.

“Look, I never once implied that I wasn’t annoying. I’ll own up to it,” You shrugged, “I was a total brat.”

Kakyoin snorted, “Don’t act like you’re not still a brat.”

“How?!” You looked almost taken aback, “How am I still a brat? You hardly see me!”

Kakyoin loved banter and teasing with his friends, it was kind of his thing. It was how he showed affection. If he didn’t gently bully you how was he supposed to show that he cared? But this, this teasing between the two of you was different. It made the room seem hotter and his pants feel tighter. That coupled with how fucking cute you looked in that damn outfit, even if your make up had worn off a bit and the lipstick was smugged. He couldn't deny it was doing things to him.

“I see you now,” His voice was deep, his tongue sticking out to wet his bottom lip as his eyes trailed you up and down.

Your cheeks immediately turned a blushy pink and your skin was hot under his gaze. Your lips parted but no words came out. This was Jotaros best friend, there was no way he was flirting with you.

Kakyoin took a few steps forward so he was as close to you as he could be without touching you. “I see you now,” He repeated in the same low voice, this time keeping eye contact with you, “And I see a brat.”

He pushes a few strands of hair out of your face and behind your ear, a gasp hitching in your throat as his heated skin touched your check briefly, “Unless you’re gonna show me otherwise.”

“I…” You swallowed the lump in your throat, suddenly weak at his gaze. “H-how?”

You look into his eyes and you can see it. You can see how much he wants you and how intense that want is. No one has ever looked at you that way before and it made your stomach erupt in butterflies. Quickly, you turn your head away not being able to handle the intensity of his stare. You feel his fingers on your chin guiding you to look back up at him, holding you there so he can take in all the features of your face. Its like he’s looking at you for the first time. His fingers move gently from your chin down to your neck, your breathing hitched in your throat when you felt the soft pad of his thumb move across your lips.

“If you want me to stop, tell me sweetheart,” He’s eyes had gotten a few shades darker and his voice seemed more strained than usual. Kakyoins free hand traveled under the sweater your were wearing, fingers lightly dancing along your side as his other hand stayed on you face, gently tracing the outline of your lips with his thumb. “Tell me right now and I’ll go back to pitching solo cups and scrubbing counters.”

In the pit of your stomach you knew you shouldn’t. You knew that if Jojo ever found out he’d flip, he’d always done his best to keep you and his friends separate. You always thought it was because you annoyed him and he didn’t want to have to be around you more than you already were, Kakyoin knew that it was because no matter how the man acted, he deeply cared for you and would do anything to protect you. These thoughts of Jotaro’s reaction filtered through your mind but your brother wasn’t here right now.

You acted on impulse, your tongue peaking out of your mouth to coax Kakyoins thumb between your lips. He watched with heavy lidded eyes as you gently sucked on the digit, swiping your tongue along the length of it. His breathing picked up for a moment before mumbling a quiet, “Fuck.”

Almost instantly you were hoisted on the counter with his lips against yours and wasting no time to swipe his tongue into your mouth. His hands quickly traveled up your thighs, pushing your skirt to pool at your hips and quickly ripping the stockings down the middle. Your legs hooked around his waist, pulling him as close to you as possible as your fingers worked at undoing his belt.

He pulls away from your lips for a moment to help you pull down his boxers and jeans. You licked your lips as you admired his cock, already hard and glistening with precum. You felt his fingers on your face again directing you to look at him.

“My cock needs to be inside you, sweetheart. Can I do that?” He was breathing heavy, he had never wanted someone so much in his life. All he wanted right now was to feel your pussy around his cock. Consequences be damned. “Can I fuck you, princess?”

You whine when you hear him speak, his voice is like nothing you ever heard before. Lust and want seemed to be dripping off every word. The whole situation leaves you speechless. At the nod of your head, Kakyoin pulls your panties to the side and slides inside you. His moan and your whimper are the only noises in the quiet apartment, his eyes watching your face intently for any sign of discomfort or desire to stop.

“Fuck me,” You breath out when your vocie finally comes to you. “Please, Kakyoin. Fuck me.”

He groans and happily obliges, rocking his cock in and out of you. Your small gasps and whimpers only egg him on more as he increases the speed of this thrust, your hands bracing yourself against the countertop. His eyes break from your face to watch his own cock slide in and out, the sight of his cock slick with your wetness makes him moan.

“Thats a perfect fucking pussy, sweetheart.” He breaths out so soft you almost can’t hear him over the slick sound of his skin on yours. His eyes find yours again, hand moving back to rest on your jawline and hold you in his gaze. He leans close and sucks your lip into his mouth, his teeth nipping at the soft flesh before soothing it with his tongue.

“You’re such a good girl,” Kakyoin tells you before pressing his lips against yours again. He picks up the pace because, goddammit, he wants to feel you cum on his cock. He pulls aways, resting his forehead against yours. Your moans are soft and the whimpers that follow cause him to smirk.

“Oh, fuck. That feels so good,” You whisper, looking into his eyes. He can see you getting closer and closer and its making it hard for him to keep composed.

“You take a cock so well, princess,” His lips brush against yours, he tilts your head to the side so that he can kiss down your neck, and then back up again. His lips find the lobe of your ear and gently suck on it. Your moans are getting more and more erratic, every now and then you’ll gasp out his name.

“You gonna be a good girl and cum on my cock,” Kakyoin whispers into your ear, his lips brushing against the shell of it. “Shit, sweetheart, I wanna feel that pretty fucking pusy come on my cock.”

It’s the sound of his voice whispering those dirty things in your ear that sends you over the edge.

“Thats it, princess. Fuck, sweetheart…I’m...shit. Can I….?” The red heads voice is ragged and incoherent but you knew what he was asking.

“Fuck, yes, please,” Its all you can do to get the words out. “Please, I wanna feel you come in me.”

You both come hard, his fingers digging roughly into the skin of your thighs and loud moans filling the space of the kitchen. The warmth of him spilling inside of you is enough to make you want a round two. After a few moments the two of you are left breathing heavy, his forehead resting on your shoulder as he tries to catch his breath.

You stay like that for a moment, trying to regain your composure and come to terms with everything that had just happened. This was a development in events that neither of you ever saw coming. Its you that make the move to separate, pushing against his chest and moving off the counter. You avoid eye contact with him, flating your skirt back down and picking up your, now ruined, stockings off the tiled floor. You could feel his cum drip out of you down to your thighs.

“That was….” Kakyoin broke the silence, buckling his belt and running a hand through his hair. You noticed he too was looking at anything but you.

“Yeah,” You nodded your head in response.

“You know we can’t uh…-”

“Yup.”

“Like, ever.”

“Trust me, I’m aware.”

“H-Happy...Happy Christmas.”

You just nod and quickly retreat to your room, throwing yourself on your bed and groaning into your pillows. After a moment, you crawled under the blankets and pulled your cat into your chest.

“Miso. I think I’m a slut….”

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Kakyoin watched as you retreated away down the hallway, his mind still wrapping around what had happened. The fact that he was the one that instigated it. He was the one that made all the moves and god, he shouldn’t have. But he had wanted to. He had wanted to get you in that position all night.

It was at that moment that Jotaro entered the apartment again, smelling of cigarettes and….perfume? Kakyoin was gonna have to ask him about that one later. “

“The prodigal son has returned,” The redhead teased his friend, doing his best to hide the guilt he had for what he had just done.

“Shut up,” Jotaro mumbled. He eyed his friend curiously, he was very observant and it was very naive of Kakyoin to think that he wouldn’t notice the change in his friend. “What’s wrong with you?”

I just busted a big one in your sister. And would probably do it again if the chance presented itself. No biggie.

“I’m, uh, I’m just tired.”

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Thank you so much for reading this! I appreciate it very much. Let me know what you think of it and if I should continue the story. Merry Christmas!

#kakyoin x reader #noriaki kakyoin #noriaki kakyoin x reader #kakyoin #jjba #jjba x reader #jotaro x reader #jotaro kujo #jotaro #jojo #stardust crusaders

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maxineswritingcenter · 4 years ago

Text

The Little Mermaid AU! - Sam x fem!reader part 2

Haha, nothing like procrastinating

Here’s part 1 as a refresher to whatever the hell I’m doing.

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(Y/N) slowly peaked her head out of the water, searching for treasures left behind. She had found a few things, including her new prized possession. It reminded her or her father's trident but had four of the pointy things instead of three.

To her right, a fish rubbed up against her side.

"Flounder, there you are." She smiled, running her fingers softly over his scales. She produced the fork from her sack she wore, "Look at this? Isn't it cool? I've seen the humans use these to brush their head hair. Or... It looked like that's what they were using. I'm gonna call it a dingle hopper."

Her fish friend look at her, then back toward deeper water, "Uhh, (Y/N)..."

"What is it?" She thought, trying to remember if she had anything to do today, "Oh no. Oh No!" She started swimming back towards her home, Flounder hot on her heels, "The ceremony!"

(Y/N) swam through the curtain to the throne room where her father at in his throne, flanked by her sisters.

"Well, look who the catfish dragged in." Pallas spat.

Ignoring her sister, (Y/N) bowed her head, "Father, I'm so sorry. I forgot-"

"Young lady, as a result of your behavior-" Father began.

"Reckless behavior!" The royal advisor crab, Sebastian piped in.

"The whole ceremony-"

"Was a disaster! I was the laughing stock of the reef!" Sebastian clicked.

"Sebastian."

"I had a courtship planned with the prince of the Arabian see but I dropped it all for you!" Triteia shouted.

"No wonder we were mother's favorites!" Pallas sneered.

"Enough!" Triton struck his trident on the ground, silencing the chatter. He moved him thrown to where she was, head still bowed. He lifted it up gently.

"My sweet child, you have such an amazing gift."

"I know," She sighed, meeting his eyes, "I have mother's voice."

"Then please, for her memory's sake."

"Alright, father. I promise." She smiled softly.

"It wasn't her fault really." Flouder bubbled up, "She couldn't have heard the call horns from shore-" He quickly shut his mouth, realizing what he had said.

"The shore?!" Triton bellowed.

"Nothing happened." (Y/N) fiddled with her fingers.

"How many times must I tell you?” Triton boomed, “You could have been seen by those barbaric humans!”

“Father, they’re not barbaric!”

“They are dangerous. I will be long gone in the muck before I see my youngest daughter snared by some fisher-eater’s hook.” Triton crossed his arms over his chest.

“I am not a child!” She called back.

“Don’t you use that tone with me, young lady. As long as you live in this ocean, you’ll obey my rules.” He turned to go back to the throne.

“But, if you would just listen-”

“Not another word - and I am never, NEVER to hear of you going to the surface again. Is that clear?” He didn’t even look at her, just tossing a glance over his shoulder. Tears pooled up in her eyes, she swam out of the throne room. Flounder came up behind her. They both swam all the way to her secret cave where she had started collecting her human treasures.

‘Are you okay, (Y/N)?” Flounder asked.

She shook her head, “If only I could make him understand.” She sniffled, “I just don’t see things the way he does. I don’t see how a world that makes such wonderful things could be bad.” She swam to one of her shelves, motioning to the various items.

“I mean, look at this stuff. Isn’t it neat?” She swept her arms out, “Look at this trove, treasures untold. How many wonders can this cavern hold? Looking around here you’re probably think that I have everything that I would need. I’ve got gadgets, gizmos, whozits, whatzits. And thingamabobs, I must have twenty of those. But, I want more.” She grabbed a flimsy thin thing that had colored art of people near the beach.

“I wanna be where the people are. I wanna see them dancing. Walking around on those...feet. Feet. Flipping my fins, I won’t get too far.” She motioned to her tail, “Legs are required for jumping, dancing, walking along down the...what was it? Ah, the street. Up where they walk, run, stay all day in the sun. Wandering free, I wish I could be part of that world.”

She sighed, “What I would give if I could live out of these waters. What I would pay to spend a day warm on the sand. And I betcha on land they understand, bet they don’t reprimand their daughters. Bright young women, sick of swimming and ready to stand.” Flounder only watched her rant, following her around the cave.

“I’m ready to know what the people know. Ask them my questions and get some answers. Like what’s a fire and why does it...does...burn. I just wish I could be part of the human world.” She sighed, resting on a large rock.

Suddenly a large crashing brought both of their attention to Sebastian who was scuttling around the cave.

“Sebastian!?” They both shouted.

“(Y/N), have you gone mad? How-what-what is all this?” He clicked.

“It’s my collection. Of things.” She said.

“Ah your collection. Hmm.” He thought a moment, “IF YOUR FATHER KNEW ABOUT THIS HE’D-”

“You’re not gonna tell him are you?” Flounder swam up to Sebastian.

“Oh please, Sebastian. He would never understand.” She pleaded.

“Your highness. You are under a lot of pressure down here. Come with me, I’ll take you home and get you something to help you feel better.” As he said this, the cave went black, meaning a ship was passing overhead. With an excited giggle, she started her way up towards the surface, Flounder followed while Sebastian called after her. She swam up until she was looking across the floor of the ship. It seemed the humans were having a little party. They were laughing and music was playing. One of these men was the most handsome creature she had ever seen. He was tall, his hair was longer and a brown color. He had the kindest looking smile.

A short man with shorter came up to the tall man.

“Congrats, First mate.” He chuckled, patting his back, Here, I wanted to show you this.”

The tall man took the picture, “The woman and white case. First picture of our first hunt together. Thanks.”

“No problem. Bitch.”

“Jerk.” He chuckled. That must be his name. Bitch. It sounded cool.

From up above, the sky grew dark and thunder rumbled in the sky.

“SEA STORM! STAND FAST! SECURE THE RIGGING!” One of the man shouted. (Y/N) and Flounder swam a ways from the ship, the violent thrashing of the waves was too dangerous to be around.

A large wave crashed into the ship, causing the Dean to loose his footing, falling and sliding across the deck, holding onto the bars of the ship top.

“Dean! Hang on!” The Sam shouted over the wind.

“WE’RE GOIN DOWN, LADS! GET TO THE BOATS!” The sailors made their way to the boats. Sam went to follow, but his life line to the mast was tangle around his feet.

“I’m stuck!” He called, but the rest of the sailors had gotten to the life boats.

“SAM!” Dean called. He was about to call back his brother’s name but the tallest wave he had ever seen crashed down on the ship, plunging him down into the depths.

(Y/N) watched the ship go down, “Oh no!” She dived down, Flounder calling to her.

“It’s too dangerous!” He bubbles fell on deaf ears as she swam down into the wreck, seeing the tall man. His eyes were closed and little bubbles came from his lips. She grabbed the sharp silver stick from his belt cutting the rope, grabbing him under his arms and pulling him towards the surface. When they broke the surface, she pulled him all the way into shore, laying him on the beach. The storm had gone as quickly as it came.

(Y/N) looked over him, brushing wet hair from his face. He looked so peaceful. He suddenly turned his head to the side, coughing up water loudly, taking deep gulping breathes. She pulled away, then came back when he was back on his back, he eyes still closed.

“Oh what I would give to live where you are. What would I pay to stay here besides you. What do I do to see you smile? Just you and me and I could be part of your world.” She spoke softly, tracing his face.

Sam slowly opened his eyes a bit, the bright sun making it too hard to see. He could see the outline of someone above him. He could hear a soft, sweet voice humming, the same song that he had heard earlier that day.

“Sam!” He heard a voice in the distance, the person above him looked in the direction and quickly moving away, followed by a splash in the water. He heard footsteps approaching, Dean kneeling down next to him.

“Sam! Sam, can you hear me?!” Sam opened his eyes a little more.

“Yeah, I can hear you. Loud and clear.”

“You almost gave a heart attack, you know that?” It had been a while since Dean scolded him.

“There was a girl. She rescued me.” Sam panted, happy to feel the air in his lungs, “She was singing.”

“Did you drink too much sea water?” Dean raised an eyebrow at him, “Come on, up you go big guy.” Dean helped Sam to his feet, helping him back towards the others while medical helped arrived.

(Y/N) watched them from behind a stone, Flounder and Sebastian at her sides.

“We just gotta forget this whole thing ever happened. The sea king will never know. You won’t tell him, I won’t tell him. I stay in one piece.” He clicked, snapping his claws nervously.

“I don’t know when, I don’t know how.” She clutched the photo of the two humans to her chest, “But I know something’s starting right now. Watch and you’ll see. Someday I’ll be part of your world.” She said to herself, following after the crustacean. What she didn’t see, however, were the two eels that had been following and watching them.

--------------------------------------

I definitely didn’t only now just make the sequel for this AU it’s fine. I think I’m afraid that these will never be as good as Beauty and the Beast AU

Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are appreciated!

Taglist:

@happy-little-winchester

@hobby27

@tranzfred

@vicmc624

@ria132love

@lilulo-12

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@calaofnoldor

#Sam Winchester #sam winchester x reader #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #little mermaid au!#maxineswritingcenter

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moonaft · 3 years ago

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When Sorrows Come reactions

Spoilers: I did not get bingo.

25 squares, from left to right, top to bottom: 1. Malvic appears at the wedding 2. Sylvester attends the wedding 3. The High King or Queen gets elfshot 4. One of Tybalt's enemies from the short stories appears 5. Hope chests are relevant 6. Something is revealed about the False Queen 7. There's at least 3 Firstborn at the wedding 8. Someone calls Toby a kingbreaker 9. Dianda punches someone important 10. Toby drinks someone else's blood 11. August attends the wedding 12. Hirsent crashes the wedding 13. [Free space] Toby's dress gets blood on it 14. One of Tybalt's friends from the short stories appears 15. Eira is behind the trouble 16. Gillian attends the wedding 17. Lore about the Torquill family 18. Quentin's identity gets revealed 19. Sylvester doesn't attend the wedding 20. Someone mistakes Sylvester for Simon 21. Raysel's plotline moves forward 22. Toby learns about Tybalt's short story past 23. Someone gets elfshot for the second or third time 24. Toby insults nobility we haven't seen before 25. Lore about the Sollys family

Date: April 11, 2015, roughly 6 months after A Killing Frost. No mischief occurred around Christmas 2014.

Are nobles seriously inviting the kingbreaker in order to make contact with her mother who she pissed off during the divorce? Have they been paying attention at all?

Technically, Toby has never committed treason. She definitely didn’t commit treason against Rhys because she never swore loyalty to him.

I think this is the first book that introduced Simon ahead of Sylvester and described Sylvester as Simon’s brother as opposed to the other way around. Sylvester is still on thin ice, by the way. There’s a reason I have both “Sylvester attends the wedding” and “Sylvester doesn’t attend the wedding” on the bingo card.

The Luidaeg denied Sylvester’s request to wake Raysel up - why? Did she want to get the wedding out of the way before Raysel’s trial and October’s next rolling emergency?

Yes, the Quentin problem when getting married at the High King’s knowe. Don’t change his appearance and everyone knows where the Crown Prince is fostered. Do change his appearance and everyone in Toby’s party now knows who the Crown Prince is.

“Dean Lorden is probably technically my brother now” woot.

Toby is voluntarily eating and drinking! After so many books of having food forced of her because she keeps forgetting to do so.

Confirmation that Toby officially owns her place and Luna can’t get Sylvester to reverse that decision.

Dean kissing a strange boy -> ah, they went with changing Quentin’s appearance and bloodline. And they went to the Luidaeg for it. Banshee, huh?

Poor Dean. Toby’s approval means something to him. And Toby continues to eat, good for her.

Yes, I too would love to know more about Sylvester’s Dark Years. Sylvester POV, when?

Dean has now officially heard that Oberon is back, and isn’t reacting. I have to assume the Lordens know the details behind how they broke August’s curse.

Oh Quentin, I love you.

Dean still thinks the Merrow descend from only Titania, but Pete confirmed in The Unkindest Tide that Oberon is her father.

Dean does not understand the value of landlines. Kids these days...

I had not considered that Toby and Tybalt’s wedding would be a historic event.

Surprise wedding date! It really couldn’t have been any other way.

Yes, who would have told Sylvester about the date?

Yep, calling Bridget and Etienne is the best option. And Etienne knows May didn’t tell Toby the date, interesting.

Dammit, Sylvester. I can’t cross that square off yet, he might redeem himself. And Etienne talking sense into Toby!

Did the fae make their kingdoms based on state borders? The West at least was based on SCA kingdoms and principalities. I wonder if Highmountain has a new Crown yet.

Good to know that Oberon can go where ever he wants in Faerie. He could probably bring Riordan back if he wanted to. Is Danny not coming? I can’t say I blame him.

Jazz knows about Oberon too.

I do hope August shows up at the wedding, it’s on my bingo card.

Huh, I knew that Ash and Oak aka New York was a place without fae these days, but I assumed some purebloods and changelings could still live there. Uncomfortably, perhaps, and maybe you couldn’t anchor a knowe there anymore, but I didn’t think it was actively hostile to every fae.

Hey, is that Lowri and Nolan? Nolan’s on guard duty, interesting.

Yes, the Ludiaeg could have married you at any time. Should have thought of that before everyone started offering you their knowe for the wedding.

Oh good they’re bringing Walther.

Makes sense Arden can’t come but she is sending Nolan. Nolan definitely is enjoying life these days.

Confirmation that Madden’s boyfriend is human and doesn’t know about the fae.

“I can go order her to arrest herself, if you’d like” Love it.

I have to assume the Tuatha Express is faster than air travel and not as tiring for the people who aren’t opening portals.

Nessa, the Gwragedd Annwn, a new species. As pretty as the Daoine Sidhe are to a nearly human Toby, wow.

And... she thinks the Luidaeg is Toby? I hope this isn’t a calculated insult. I know Quentin grew up with some bigoted people but this is deliberate.

And Oberon is apparently Tybalt?? What is going on her?

Kerry! We haven’t seen you since A Local Habitation. ‘There are no bad Dayes in this week” aww. I love you, Kerry.

Beacon’s Home is actually a Kingdom and not a Selkie-now-Roane holding? Cool.

It seems important that the Maples vs Ash and Oak decision was happening right before/during the American Revolution but I don’t know why yet.

“The ducal consorts are Daoine Sidhe”, yep both of them.

“Sweet Titania, I love that woman [Dianda Lorden]” Still waiting for Toby’s bisexual awakening.

The Luidaeg confirms the Gwragedd Annwn are Black Annie’s descendant line.

Quentin confirms something’s wrong with Nessa, maybe she isn’t like this at all.

Whee, slightly more Stacy weirdness. I think Barrow Wights would be descended from Maeve, her illusions shouldn’t be better than Toby’s.

Tybalt is apparently descended from both Oberon and the Luidaeg, if his line comes from the Cait Sidhe Malvic sired with his Roane lover.

Confirmation that the Luidaeg can see the future, at least some of the time.

At least Aethlin and Maida seem happy to see Toby.

Maida doesn’t recognize Cass’s bloodline - interesting.

“Um, my boss is Queen Windermere, and my [human] graduate advisor is Professor Weinstein, and my parents are Mitch and Stacy Brown” Cass I love you.

Oh, Nessa isn’t Nessa.

Not!Nessa, holding Toby at knifepoint is not the detergent you think it is.

Toby has a new knife now, sweet. Not!Nessa is a Doppelganger, we haven’t seen one of those in several years. The one in Rosemary and Rue, who wasn’t Gillian?

“Archers,” “I was right about that?”

Perhaps Toby shouldn’t be the one giving orders to open portals, but Aethlin clearly isn’t doing it.

“I punched it in the face” Why do I have the feeling that’s going to solve a lot of problems in this book? And hey, this isn’t a Firstborn or Queen, so Toby got her wish of punching more punchable people.

“You don’t have the authority to order an arrest in my knowe.” Well, maybe you should give her that authority, High King of the Westlands who was almost assassinated.

“Purebloods forgot things, quickly, when they can’t see them anymore” Interesting.

“And even in a backwater Ducky run by a politically unambitious man” Shadowed Hills predates the Mists, Sylvester really just went as far as he could. Or maybe settled there once Amandine built her tower.

“Is he going to try to stab me? Is he better at stabbing than the last batch was at shooting arrows”? I love you Raj. I wonder if the local King of Cats will make an appearance.

Ah fuck, first dead body.

Toby having the most sense in this scene, I love it.

Did Aethlin basically make Toby a hero of the Westlands as well? “Our visiting hero”

Aethlin is not showing up well in dealing with security, nor are his guards.

“People who put deadly traps on doorknobs often forget the obvious, which is that it’s a good idea to lock doors.”

Three dead bodies? RIP Aethlin’s guards.

Only two dead bodies so far. Once Broken Faith had 4, I believe, but we’re only a third done. Good job on not dying, Caitir.

Gordon, hello. I thought the reference to ALH in the “books to re-read” was about the nighthaunts but didn’t expect to see her.

Looks like neither Nessa nor Honey are dead.

This poor Ellyllon doctor, welcome to Toby’s world.

Ah fuck, Tybalt’s elf-shot again.

Good thing Caitir’s a Candela. Thank you, Raj.

Jazz is apparently betting that Toby’s getting elfshot before/during the wedding, this is a girl after my own heart. As is May.

Walther has a fan, I love it.

The Bridge Trolls can search for clues if they want, I guess. We don’t need to worry about people messing with the crime scene anymore.

Toby’s sweet talking the knowe, that didn’t take long.

Toby, Quentin is never going to leave you behind even when he’s knighted and moves back home. He would sooner move the capital to SF.

Evening got her hooks into Aethlin back in 1906, huh?

“I am the breaker of the unbreakable” Yes you are, Toby.

Black Annis was originally named Ismere? I love the lore we’re getting in this book.

There are rumors that Quentin is Toby’s squire, probably started after OBF. The Beacon’s Home Selkies knew about him, after all.

All the Maeve descendant lines with dead Firstborn imprint on the Luidaeg, this is so cute.

So many reasons why Tybalt shouldn’t go looking for Toby as she walks up. Tybalt’s back!

Nolan is great, I love him. Aethlin’s reassuring Nessa, glad to see it.

How does Fiac know enough about Simon and Amandine’s marriage to have negative feelings about it? It sounds like he was around them to notice it.

The Doppelganger isn’t bringing the Revolution, what a pity.

Fuck, she can’t kill Aethlin now. Damn.

This is exactly the scene I wanted to see with a different Daoine Sidhe, but fine. The guards need more training.

Eira killed other seers than the Roane, did she? Did she want there to be no one who could guess her plans?

Toby thinks Maida is upset with her, while I think Maida thinks Toby is the only one she can trust.

Why do none of the Daoine Sidhe save Simon specialize in blood magic? They all suck at it.

“We need to interview your entire staff, and by ‘we’ I mean ‘you’, and by ‘you’ I mean ‘someone you trust’“ Toby’s got this under control.

“I’m sorry, was that disrespectful? I meant fuck you, Your Majesty.” Quentin is not holding back. Chelsea and Raj are literally eating popcorn while watching this. Despite what Toby thinks, she has a court of teenagers.

I wonder what the series would have been like if Penny was sent to Shadowed Hills with Quentin.

I’m glad Quentin got the chance to yell at his father, he needed it. Look, family drama that isn’t related to Toby!

Walther: “I carry the base ingredients [of elfshot] whenever I travel with Sir Daye.” I would too, Walther.

...Are the rest of Stacy’s kids also Seers?

Oberon exists to be more than background, apparently.

Confirmation that the Luidaeg is a century older than Eira! And the Luidaeg will know if she wakes up.

Yes, Toby gets her own court with all her squires and also brothers. Quentin, Raj, one day Chelsea, Peter if he can convince Toby to do it. She has two Seers, an alchemist and her favorite aunts and family in Saltmist.

So the Summerlands have suns as well as moons.

Oh hey, Julie, I thought you died off screen. We haven't heard from you in several books. They’re getting the band back toge- the High King got poisoned?!

“For example, it would be really unreasonable of him to die right now, thanks.”

“If this is where you want to suddenly remember the High King’s evil grand vizier who you just forgot to tell us about until now, that would be great.”

I thought Maida’s father was still alive?

Aethlin has survived his third assassination attempt in the past 24 hours, sweet.

Why did the Librarian call Fiac the Seneschal? He’s the Court Seer.

Oh, so Toby did settle her debts with Mag about her mom’s biography.

We’ve met Tybalt the Torquill family historian, now meet Yenay Ng, the Tybalt historian.

OK, I... didn’t see that coming.

I approve of Toby punching former King Shallcross in the nose. She should punch more nobles on screen.

Huh, I guess that’s where Eira was before she showed up in the Mists.

Is this guy Dawn’s father? The timelines sorta fit.

Aethlin has managed to not get poisoned or stabbed again, good for him.

Of course they enchanted the wedding dress to not get covered in blood. Good thing my ‘free’ space on the bingo card was “Toby’s dress gets blood on it” which was technically fulfilled with the first dress.

I assumed “wine-colored” meant white until it was described in more detail. I approve of dressing the wedding party in red - it will hide the blood.

Sylvester?!? Nope, Simon.

Aww, Simon gets to walk his daughter to the altar. He gets to see his daughter married!

“Then go. Get married. Be happy. You’ve earned it.”

And the wedding is finally on! The local Cait Sidhe are here! Surprise appearance by August!

“As did the man who looked heart-stoppingly like Simon Torquill, but absolutely wasn’t” Oh Sylvester, you made it after all.

I think this is the first time Sylvester’s been referred to in terms of Simon rather than the other way around.

Whoops, more assassins.

I see you, Simon, using your blood to fuel your transformation spells, just like your daughter. Followed immediately by Sylvester charging into battle. And Oberon continues to be background scenery.

Another guard’s death - 3 now? Maybe more?

“Now I have a longbow, motherfuckers, ho, ho, ho” Love you, May.

Badly attempted jailbreak is a bust. Toby’s dress remains pristine.

Surprise appearance by Gillian! I assume August tackled her to the ground when the arrows started flying.

Wedding is complete! Reception go!

I assume Etienne was instrumental in getting Sylvester to the wedding, not only physically but also by yelling at him about what an idiot he was.

Etienne is a little younger than Tybalt, good to know.

They’re going to Disney world without the kids, neat. Surprise August again! Good to know Helen’s seeing a therapist.

Galen has a crush on Poppy. I love this man that we will probably never see again.

Why is Simon a Count again? Shouldn’t he also be Duke Lorden? Does he get a lower title because he’s the second husband, like a courtesy title? Also, glad to see him and August being Lordens.

She hugged him!

Oh hey Sylvester. You could have started with “You make a beautiful bride” and avoided a shitton of trouble. You made it all about yourself. It’s better than if you didn’t attend at all, but man, Sylvester. You disappointed Toby and me.

“Once and future King of Cats”

She accepts the Lorden boys as her brothers!

What does Cliff think of Gilly spending so much time at Half Moon Bay? Does he think she’s in a cult?

Aw, May and Jazz are going to get married!

Oh hey Pete. Only two Firstborn at the wedding, can’t mark that one off. Nice blessing!

That cake sounds super delicious. Fuck, did Oberon give his knife to Toby and then not take it back? Toby has a replacement for her iron knife now?

Oh hi, Gilly. Your mother’s really excited to have you here. I love Quentin egging Toby into eating the cake. “Quentin pressed a fork into my hand, trying to urge me to get on with it.”

And the final blessing comes from Aethlin. He has got to do something to thank her for all her help in stopping the assassination attempts.

Afterthoughts: I am sad none of Tybalt’s friends and family from London/Europe attended. Morane was alive as of 1911, with no word on the others. Hermeline, if she’s still ruling in the Court of Fogbound Cats, has been ruling for nearly three hundred years.

On the other hand, we got a ton of Toby feels and secondary characters. Love the reactions of the Teen Squad.

What a good and heartwarming book.

Spots crossed off:

2. Sylvester attends the wedding 8. Someone calls Toby a kingbreaker 10. Toby drinks someone else's blood 11. August attends the wedding 13. [Free space] Toby's dress gets blood on it 16. Gillian attends the wedding 18. Quentin's identity gets revealed 22. Toby learns about Tybalt's short story past 23. Someone gets elfshot for the second or third time 24. Toby insults nobility we haven't seen before 25. Lore about the Sollys family

Spots not crossed off:

1. Malvic appears at the wedding 3. The High King or Queen gets elfshot 4. One of Tybalt's enemies from the short stories appears 5. Hope chests are relevant 6. Something is revealed about the False Queen 7. There's at least 3 Firstborn at the wedding 9. Dianda punches someone important 12. Hirsent crashes the wedding 14. One of Tybalt's friends from the short stories appears 15. Eira is behind the trouble 17. Lore about the Torquill family 19. Sylvester doesn't attend the wedding 20. Someone mistakes Sylvester for Simon 21. Raysel's plotline moves forward

I should note some of these are rather literal - Eira caused trouble in the back story but she wasn’t active in the main story like she was in both The Unkindest Tide (telling Torin to stop the restoration of the Roane) and A Killing Frost (taunting Toby).

#october daye #october daye spoilers

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defenderrosetyler · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter One

A/N: No real triggers this time!! WC: 1.9k Chapter 1:

“So every person in this book is a fairy tale character?” Emma Swan says to her ten-year-old son.

The boy had introduced himself as Henry, had brought his mother to Storybrooke. Of course, Emma had given Henry up for adoption when she gave birth to him. But to have her son seek her out made Emma uncomfortable. He had come to her claiming to be the savior of the storybook world. Henry spun a tale about a curse and how all of the characters of the Enchanted Forest were stuck in a town called Storybrooke, Maine.

Henry had with him a brown leather storybook that was thick but didn’t appear to be heavy. Henry seemed to carry around with no problem. One thing Emma found off when they arrived into town was the clock tower. As she observed it, she couldn’t help take note of how it never seemed to move. She led Henry back to his mother’s house. Henry’s adoptive mother, Regina Mills, was the mayor of the town. Henry claimed she was the Evil Queen from the story Snow White. Emma found this silly. Then again, Emma wasn’t one for fairytales anyway. Fairytales are for kids.

Inside Granny’s Diner, Sam Winchester sat inside waiting for his brother Dean. Granny’s was usually closed at night since Granny went to work at her bed and breakfast in the mornings, but Ruby was always there at night to serve the night owls who couldn’t sleep.

Ruby wasn’t the only one working the night shift. She worked with Y/N Y/L/N. Hardly anyone saw Y/N working in the morning. This usually led to rumors that Y/N was hiding something. The story was Y/N stayed locked in Rowena’s shop.

Rowena MacLeod was a private woman. However, she was a businesswoman, a loan shark, if you will. Rowena was very good at getting what she wanted through these tactics. She would let her client borrow money with the promise of paying it back fairly and on time. However, many clients don’t read the fine print in her contract. Resulting in them having to pay double or triple what they borrowed. Rowena had helped Sam and Dean’s parents with a large sum of money to keep their business, Winchester Mechanics, afloat. Leaving their two sons, Sam and Dean, to foot the bill. Dean paid her as much as he could, but with not many people coming or going from Storybrooke, business was slow.

This left Sam to find a way to help Dean find a way to help pay Rowena back too. But he wasn’t having great success either. Sam had started working in Mr. Gold’s Pawn shop until he found himself interested in Law. Under Mr. Gold’s tutelage, Sam had become well versed in the laws created by the town council. This led him to also find work in the Sheriff's office as a prosecutor. Often being a rival for his own boss at the Pawn Shop. It only made Mr. Gold admire Sam more.

“Ruby, can you please help them?” Y/N begged, trying to hold back an eye-roll at the two men that walked in together, sitting across from one another. Having a conversation amongst themselves and trying to not get in an argument, again, over the amount of money they owed to Rowena. Their next payment was due within the week, and they didn’t have the funds.

“Sorry, Duckling, it's your turn. I helped them the other day.” She says, giving her a sentimental look.

Ruby had been watching Y/N and Sam’s exchanges cringing internally whenever they walked in the door, knowing Y/N would try and pass her along to either herself or Granny. Ruby heard rumors about why Y/N and Sam had disagreements, but their arguments were getting harsher with each passing day.

Y/N scoffed, rolling her eyes, grabbing her order pad, heading over to greet Sam and Dean.

“Evening, Y/N,” Dean says pleasantly.

Sam muttered under his breath a greeting, and it sounded like he muttered a nickname only her friends gave her, earning a glare from Y/N in Sam’s direction.

“What is it now, brains?” Y/N says. “Too buried in your debt to Rowena to speak louder and call me a name in front of my face?”

Dean sighed. Here they go again. “Just our usual if you would please,” he says, trying to cut the tension between the two.

Y/N nods glaring at Sam before she heads back to the kitchen.

“You didn’t need to butt in like that,” Sam scoffed. “I had it completely under control.”

“Oh sure, that’s why you and Y/N seem to fight or have some sort of disagreement every time we come in here?” Dean huffed, “Who knows whatever the hell happens when you bump into her while she’s alone at Rowena’s,” Dean sassed, “Oh wait, you’re too busy working at Gold’s shop, fighting for a chance to work a case in his place, or at the jail with Graham,” the elder brother snapped calmly.

“Says the man who works in a shop with no cars to work on,” Sam snapped back, “How’s Amaya? Did you ever fulfill your promise to help her out?

“You keep that bitch out of this,” Dean growled. “I’ll figure something out. For now, I’m gonna see if I can get a second job somewhere.”

“What do you mean? What other job could you get here? Think Granny can hire you as a short-order cook? At least she gets business!”

“It’s something to get the debt paid back to Rowena, Sam,” Dean muttered as Y/N brought out their meals. Both were polite, and their bickering died down, and they went back to talking about their days. As uneventful as they were, they had a lot to talk about.

Y/N sighed as she went back behind the counter, “Ruby, I’m gonna head to bed. Dawn wake-up call comes early.” She says with an eye roll.

“Goodnight, Duckling,” Ruby says, smiling kindly to her, “I’ll clean up.”

===========

Enchanted Forest

“Dean, is target practice really necessary?” Sam says, looking at him. “I need to be looking for Odette, not shooting powdered arrows over at the servants’ asses.”

“And what are you gonna do when you can’t hit your mark?” Dean questioned, “What of Odette needs saving from some Ogres, and you miss?”

“Is that before or after the fact that you're catching fireflies at all hours of the night?” Sam asks, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Are they for you or to feed the frog that follows you around and hides on your dresser?” he snaps, glaring at the older brother.

“I do not go out at night to catch fireflies for Amaya,” Dean scoffs, “besides, she goes out and catches her own meals.”

Rolling his eyes, Sam grabbed his red powdered covered arrows, game face on. Assuming the probability that Dean would let him win, again. Sam took an arrow from his quiver, sliding it into place. Pulling back the string once he nocked it, aiming it at his first mark, the butler, Crowley. Whom the brothers affectionately dressed up as a brown moose. The arrow left the nocking point, hitting its destined target in the center of his rounded ass.

“Hey!” Crowley muttered, rolling his eyes. He brushed off the powder as he glared at both of the brothers.

Dean was finding this amusing. The exercise was primarily for Sam. Why couldn’t he have fun too?

Just as Dean was about to take his shot, Castiel, the head advisor to his father, walked out onto the grounds. He intended to stop the game before it fully began. “Your Highness?”

Startled by the sudden interruption, Dean whipped around, the arrow released from where it was nocked, hitting Castiel square into his chest. Before he could even react, a second followed by a third engulfed Cas in a powder of blue.

“If you children are quite finished,” he huffed, dusting the powder off himself, “my liege, you have a visitor. Something about a poisonous toad needing collecting?”

Dean fired one more arrow before stalking towards Castiel, “it better not be a waste of my time. My brother and I are training.”

“Training for a lost cause if you ask me, Sir,” Crowley says, observing the body language of his employer. “For all, we know the Princess is dead as well, just like her father. God rest his soul.” He adds, making the sign of the cross.

Sam’s head turned quickly at the Butler’s words echoed in his ear. Eyes flashed in anger, rushing over towards the pair. “Take it back! You don’t get to talk about Odette like that!”

“Forgive me, Samuel. However, I truly believe this to be a fool's errand,” Crowley says, standing closer to the trio gathered in the middle of the courtyard.

“I will find her, Crowley,” the younger prince declared, “I have to find her.”

Shaking his head, Dean followed Castiel inside to handle the visitor.

Needing an actual outlet for his anger, Sam walked with a fast pace over to the stables. The staff tended to the horses, but Sam usually liked taking care of his mare. It gave him a sense of responsibility.

Sam’s mare, Onyx, was a beautiful black Friesian. Her height was just above 18 hands, given his six foot four stature, she was just as tall as he was. Sam was okay with that though. Grabbing a body brush, Sam slowly brushed out her black coat. It had become dirty from the loose dirt flying around.

Meanwhile, as the sun set on the edge of the trees in the forest, a beautiful white swan flew across the canopy. Odette had grown accustomed to the dawn and the dusk. Knowing she had to be on the lake’s surface as the moon touched it before she would become a woman again.

As per her usual routine, Odette flew over Winchester Castle. Wondering if Sam would be looking for her. Who was she kidding? Sam only wanted to marry her for her beauty. Prince Samuel Winchester didn’t care about her.

Dusk approached, the swan moving to make her graceful descent down into the crystal colored water. “Was wondering if you were gonna be on time tonight dearie.” Rowena says, hands placed on her hips. Odette gave Rowena as much of a glare as a swan possibly could. The princess was always on time and never late. The other party that was never late was Rowena’s incompetant son Crowley.

“Evening Mother, Odette,” he greets, giving his mother a nod of acknowledgement. Crowley’s appearances had begun to be a routine over the past week. Rowena’s son came every evening, giving Rowena the opportunity to ask her the same proposition in order to remove the curse. Marrying her son.

Much to the annoyance of Rowena, Odette answered her the same as she had every single time she’d asked. One single word was her reply, but not the one the sorceress was looking for.

“No.”

“Oh for the love of Dagda” She scoffed, rolling her eyes skyward. Eyes focused back on the maiden that stood before her. Hair glowing in the shimmering moonlight. “Need I remind you, I placed this curse on you, and I can just as easily reverse it. All you need to do, is agree to marry my dear Fergus. Once you're wed, I can give you all the riches a Princess could ask for.”

“Far better than the Winchester’s that's for sure.” Crowley adds as a comment.

“I’d rather be a swan over marrying your childish, pathetic son.” Odette snapped.

“That can be arranged.” Rowena snapped, allowing the princess to mull over her choices.

#APAHS #a prince and his swan #sam x reader #OUAT crossover #ouat fic #crowley #rowena macleod

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coffee-obsessed-writer · 4 years ago

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The Pact - Part 6

Sam Winchester x Crowley’s Daughter!Reader

Gothic AU

A/N: This idea was a long time coming. My first true AU, so please be gentle. This will be a slow burn, multi-chapter fic.

A big big thank you to my bestie @kazosa for not only keeping on me to write more of this story, but also for being my beta, my cheerleader, and all around amazing human.

WC: 5K

Series Summary: Lord Samuel Winchester has lost the love of his life due to the actions of the Demon King, Crowley. As he plots secret revenge, his father, the King of Lawrence, decrees that Sam will wed Crowley’s daughter in order to unite the two families to protect the sacred ground the Winchester’s Kingdom is built upon.

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Crowley’s Daughter!Reader

Other Players: John Winchester, Crowley, Rowena, Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer, Jessica Moore (deceased)

Series Warnings: 18+ only, mild language, violence, implied smut

The sun rose over Lawrence on a typical Tuesday morning. A familiar sound woke Sam, something he heard every Tuesday morning--the melody of the tower bells summoning the Winchester guard to court. Normally, they didn’t ring until later in the morning, but their early clanging roused a reluctant Sam from a deep, painless slumber.

When his eyes finally fluttered fully open, he slowly rolled his head to the side, knowing he’d see her there, but this morning was different than any other before it; this morning, she would wake up and truly be his wife. His mind recalled the night before, and into the early hours of that morning, rolling around on the floor, making love to the woman he was supposed to despise. The corner of his mouth twitched into an awkward smile as he thought about how she moved her body with his, how she opened up and let him take her. There was a manner of uncontrolled passion that erupted between them, and even then, he was getting hard thinking about it.

The bells rang again, along with the Horn of Gabriel, a much deeper tone that stood out over the sound of the melodic chimes. Sam furrowed his brow, knowing this meant for the guard to assemble quickly. He wondered if there was news from the front lines… from Dean. He looked at his sleeping bride with a last longing look, taking special notice of how her hair spilled out on the pillow around her. Resisting the urge to brush a finger against her cheek, he threw off the covers and didn’t think of his hip once as he put his feet on the floor and moved about his chambers to dress for the day.

Just as Sam fastened the last button on his shirt, he heard (Y/N) stirring from behind him.

“Samuel?” she spoke, half asked in a low, sleepy tone. “Where… it’s so early.” She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, and pulled the blanket up to her collarbone, covering her naked breasts.

“Rest,” he tutted. “It is early. I need to go to court, the bells are calling the guard. I’m going to check it out, but you can go back to sleep.”

“No,” she said and sat up further in the bed. “I’ll go with you, we should present a united front.”

“I appreciate that, (Y/N), but your presence there would be questioned, even by my father. I promise to take it all in and report back.” Sam sat on the edge of the bed and took her hand in his. His thumb rubbed the back of her hand for a moment before he spoke. “I’m not trying to leave you out, I swear. I just--”

“It’s fine, Sam. I understand. I just wanted to be there to support you. Dealing with your father can’t be easy.”

“Since he has seen us playing along with whatever their plan is, he’s been surprisingly pleasant,” Sam said, a small tinge of sarcasm coating his tone.

“Well, he’s getting what he wants. Of course he’s going to be kind.” She paused and gave his hand a little squeeze in return. “Sam, about last night. I--”

A deep, penetrating knock rapped at the door, interrupting her and causing both their heads to snap around. Their eyes met in a questioning glance before Sam released her hand and walked towards the door.

“Sam!” She whispered hoarsely but sharp to gain his attention. “Your cane… appearances and all that.”

“Good thinking,” he said, half embarrassed that he hadn’t thought of that. He scooped up the now unneeded crutch and went to open the chamber door.

As he pulled it open, a member of the Winchester Guard was standing at full attention.

“My Lord, your father, the King, requires your immediate attention. He needs you to come to the War Room without delay,” the guard rambled quickly, causing Sam to shake his head and lend a soft smile at the man.

“Slow down… what’s wrong? Why are the Court bells ringing so early?”

“Please, Lord Winchester, your father… he--”

Sam could see the unsettled look in the guardsman’s face and knew that something was definitely happening. He drew in a steading breath and patted the man on his ironclad shoulder.

“Let me finish dressing. Something tells me I need to be prepared for anything,” Sam said more to himself than to the guard.

“I would say that’s an accurate assessment,” the guardsman replied in the same manner, but Sam could hear the slight tremble in his words before he closed the door, blocking the man’s view into their chambers.

Sam leaned his cane near the entry, this way he wouldn’t forget it on the way out. He then made a mental note that he would also have to remember to add his now healed limp back into his entrance to the War Room. His mind began to race at what could be so urgent. It must be about Purgatory, as that was all his father had been concerned about lately. Well, that, and Sam’s ability to produce an heir.

Sighing deeply Sam sat on the edge of the bed and studied (Y/N)’s face as she did the same to him.

“You’re very troubled, husband. What could possibly be so dire that you have to run to Court at the very minute of daybreak?”

“I don’t know,” he replied, still buried in thought and growing concern. “But I plan on finding out. For now, I think you should stay here. Don’t wander today.”

“Okay, if you think that’s for the best.”

Sam’s head snapped up when she agreed so easily. “What? No fight from the Mistress Macleod? I’m shocked.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and crawled out from beneath the covers, either unaware or unphased by her vulnerable nudity and positioned herself right beside him. “I’m a Winchester now, remember? And if my Lord husband asks me to do something because he thinks it's best, then I shall grant his wish.”

Sam’s dimpled smile lit up his face, knowing that she was being half truthful and half sarcastically playful. The urgency to leave for the inevitable meeting with the King his guardsman loomed over him, but he was having difficulty pulling away from her and leaving her alone in the bed they just shared. He allowed himself his own moment of vulnerability and let his fingers slowly wander up the silky flesh of her arm, tracing his finger across her collarbone and up to her cheek.

“Thank you.” His voice was rough and low, but she didn’t pay it any mind. Instead, she placed her delicate hand against his stubbled cheek.

“Go, before he sends another Guard rapping,” (Y/N) chuckled, then leaned forward and kissed his lips tentatively. Sam returned her kiss and knew that if he didn’t stop then, his father would quickly be forgotten and he would be tangled up in her all over again.

With a grunt of frustration, Sam stood from the bed and grabbed his coat from the back of the chair by the fireplace. He could still feel the heat of the fire from the night before and smiled at the memory of how they enjoyed it for the entire night. One last look back at the woman now laying in his bed, and he left the chambers to see what fresh Hell awaited him in the War Room.

Every step towards the War Room, Sam could feel his nerves growing and vibrating beneath his skin. The tension was buzzing so loudly in his head, he was having trouble streamlining his thoughts. Luckily he had remembered to grab his cane on the way out, but halfway towards his destination, it finally registered that he needed to add in his now gone limp. By the time he reached the hulking wooden door that led to whatever awful things awaited, he was back in the habit of babying his hip; but not because he physically needed too, whatever (Y/N) had done the night before was holding strong and then some.

Drawing in one long, deep breath, Sam pushed the doors open and used his sharp eyes to survey the room the second he stepped in. To the left were his father’s top advisors, including Bobby and Pastor Jim from the Church of Lawrence. To the right of the room were a dozen or so of the Winchester Guard, standing at attention and waiting for any order the King may decree. In the middle of the room, the ancient table that mapped out the lands for hundreds of miles--including the Elven Woods and the entrances to Purgatory--was set with various pieces representing the Winchester’s army and their current battle plans. Sam noticed another set of pawns added to the table. They were black forms dotted with bright spots of bright crimson. Sam’s gut took a dive as he realized those markers belonged to Crowley’s army of demons.

Looking up, Sam finally noticed his father’s form standing in front of the raging fire, whose snap and crackle was the loudest sound in the room. John was free of his usual Royal garb, and instead dressed in a simple pair of denim pants and black long sleeved shirt. One arm was stretched all the way out, leaning against the stone mantle, while the other hand was pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Dad,” Sam spoke tentatively, carefully studying his father’s slumped shoulders and lowered head, “what’s going on? Why are you calling court so early?”

John stood motionless for what felt like an eternity. When he finally turned and met his youngest son’s eyes, Sam was taken aback by what he saw in them. The normally stoic, no nonsense King of Lawrence, had wet cheeks and red-rimmed eyes that made him look as though he had been crying.

Sam’s gut swelled with sickness, as he considered what could be so bad that it would cause his father to show such a surge of emotion in front of anyone, much less the highest ranking members of his Kingdom. Words were stuck in his throat as he continued to stare at John, unable to force anything more than a trembling breath to expel from between his lips.

“Samuel…” John’s rough voice finally broke through the silence of the room. “I have news from the front lines.” He paused and stood tall, lengthening himself to full height, but still not as tall as the son he was staring down. “It’s your brother, he--”

“Dean? Is he okay? Is he… dead?”

John opened his mouth to speak, but another voice chimed in before the King could answer.

“Come on Sammy, you think I’m gonna let a few Purgatory sonsofbitches take me out?”

Sam whirled around on one heel quickly, a move that would have certainly left him in agonizing pain before (Y/N)’s treatment. He didn’t even think of it, because the voice belonged to his brother, who was now standing right behind him.

“What? No hello for your big brother?”

“Dean,” Sam breathed with a relief sigh, “You’re alive!”

Sam was stunned to see Dean. Speechless, he stared at his brother, trying to convince himself that what he was seeing was real, and not some fever dream. Bruised and battered, Dean stood before his younger brother, his patented smart ass smile plastered across his face and his arms outstretched, palms up, and shaking his head. “Well of course I am. Damn, it's like you have zero faith in me... Bitch.”

“Jerk,” Sam snorted and rolled his eyes and took the last few steps to embrace his brother. Dean didn’t hold back and hugged Sam just as tightly, smacking his back to accentuate his joy at their reunion. When they finally parted, they gave one final nod of acknowledgement; they’re way of saying, ‘yeah, I’m okay’ without having to actually say it.

“Dean’s return from the front lines is certainly cause for celebration, don’t you think?” John said loud enough to capture the attention of the room. “And now that Samuel is married, on the way to producing an heir, both my sons are on track to fulfil their destinies. If that isn’t a good enough reason to call an early Court, I don’t know what is.”

Sam watched John’s face transform into a grin, but he could feel no genuine happiness radiating from it. There was something else behind his King’s mask that Sam could feel instead… guilt, fear, regret… he wasn’t sure he could pinpoint it, but he knew that his father was hiding something.

“I called this early court because I wanted to discuss a few things before we got down to real business. There is to be a big celebration--”

“Celebration?” Bobby interjected from the shadows. He stepped into view and adjusted his cap nervously. “I don’t mean to barge in here, but, John… c’mon. Now is not the time--”

“Bobby, please. There has been so much blight and pain in the last few years,” John said, then paused to adjust the hint of a smile to appear more heavy than happy. “With Sam’s marriage, and Dean’s return, I think it's appropriate to let the people rejoice for once instead of mourning their loved ones who don’t come home.”

The room fell completely silent. Sam watched as his father starred down the old Maester, and could feel the tension fill the air. Bobby flicked a quick glance Sam’s way--only the briefest of looks--but Sam knew exactly what it meant.

Tread easy boy...

Sam cleared his throat. “I think a celebration is in order,” he agreed, then paused before continuing. Sam was trying to appear diplomatic and act in accordance with his father’s wishes. He didn’t feel a party of any kind was proper, but, if he could find a way to use this to his advantage, he would do what he had to. “I mean, it's not every day my brother returns in one piece. And my wedding wasn’t exactly the happiest of occasions. Now that some time has passed and (Y/N) and I are embracing our commitment, I think a party is a great idea.”

“I’m surprised at you, Sammy,” John snorted. “I thought you, of all people, would be fighting me.”

“No dad, I’m done fighting you. I am here to fulfil my duties and take on the role you need me to take on. Just like Dean did in Purgatory…”

Murmurs of agreement began to radiate from the guardsman that had gathered. Sam noticed John’s demeanor change, and could feel how rigid the King had quickly become. He knew he could leave it there, just agree with John and let it go. But something in his gut told him to push it further, twist this to his favor…

Sam grinned knowingly at John, which seemed to throw the King off even more.

“For the return of my brother. For the joining of Winchester and Crowley lineage--” Sam heard Dean audibly react to the name Crowley, but Sam didn’t chance a look back. Instead, he held John’s dark eyes and twitched another satisfied smirk. “--and for the battles we are fighting in Purgatory against Eve’s most terrifying monsters. Like my father said, it's time to raise a goblet in good cheer, instead of in mourning. So, let’s throw a feast and raise a cup of ale to ‘We, the Hunters and Protectors of Lawrence’! To all of us, those who fight and those who WILL win the fight every day that it rages on!”

The Winchester Guardsman in the room erupted into shouts and cheers just as Sam had hoped they would. The King’s grin expanded, showing off his deeply dimpled cheeks and his perfect teeth. Yet when Sam watched him, he saw nothing but contempt in his father’s eyes.

“All right, all right…” John said in an authoritative, deep voice that immediately quieted the room. “There are still matters to discuss at hand. Yes, we can celebrate, but first, we must strategize. I need to speak with Bobby and Pastor Jim. We will reconvene later to hear what Dean has brought us from the front lines.” John paused from addressing the room and turned to Sam. “Sam, for now, why don’t you take Dean to meet your lovely bride. It’s only right he meets the newest member of our family.”

Sam turned to Dean, who nodded swiftly. “I think that’s a great idea. Would love a chance to catch up with my little brother here, and his new wife. Did I hear correctly… she’s a Crowley?”

“Macleod, actually,” Sam corrected. “But yes, let’s leave the King to his business. You and I have some catching up to do.”

“Dude,” Dean rasped and swiped a smack to the back of Sam’s head. “You married a Crowley?! What the HELL were you thinking?!”

“Dean, relax. First of all, it wasn’t my idea. This was all dad,” Sam scoffed as he walked slowly through the maze of stone corridors leading to his chambers. “Trust me, I was NOT on board at first. I fought dad on this tooth and nail.”

“But yet…” Dean huffed as his arms animatedly waved in front of him, as if he was calling someone safe a home plate.

“Look…” Sam turned and made sure Dean stopped before crashing into him. “I hear you, okay? Don’t think for a second that I went along with this easily.”

“So why did you go along with it at all? He got you brainwashed?”

“No, I just realized that maybe he wasn’t entirely wrong.”

Dean choked on whatever words he wanted to say and just stared at his little brother.

“Also,” Sam started then turned and kept moving towards his room, “She’s not a Crowley. Crowley is… Crowley. (Y/N) is Crowley’s daughter.”

“Oh, well, that makes it sooo much better,” Dean rolled his eyes and grabbed Sam’s shoulder to make him stop walking.

“Dude, stop for one second… please, explain this to me. How did this happen?”

“Dad told me it was up to me to produce an heir. Your place was on the front lines. Since I am the resident gimp and can no longer fight, my role is to make him a grandpa.” His tone oozed contempt. “Apparently him and Crowley made some sort of deal. We bind our two families by marriage, have a child, and dad gets reinforcements of Crowley’s minions at the front lines of Purgatory.”

Dean snorted a sarcastic laugh. “Right, because demon deals always work in our favor.”

Sam shrugged unsure of how to answer him. Dean was right, demon deals never ended well for the Winchesters. They had centuries of family history donning the castle walls proving that. He turned to start walking again, but once again, Dean made him stop.

Sam could see the shift of Dean’s focus was going somewhere else, so he didn’t argue. Instead, he waited for his older brother to arrive at whatever point he was trying to get too.

“Let me get this straight, because none of this makes sense. Dad wants you to produce an heir with a blood relative to the King of Hell?”

“I know, it seems insane.”

“No, what’s insane, Sam, is that you agreed to it in the first place. Why would you say yes to that? Especially since Crowley is the one who killed Jes--”

“Dean!” Sam barked, loud and with enough assertiveness to make Dean slightly recoil. “I know. Okay, I get it. Maybe it will turn out to be the worst choice I could have made. But when I agreed to it, I had a plan. I was going to kill her to get back at Crowley. Take the life of his daughter as revenge for Jess.”

“Okay… and? Apparently she’s still alive, so what’s stopping you?””

“The plan has since changed. (Y/N) isn’t who I thought she would be. Dean… she’s…”

“Oh God…” Dean buried his face in his palms. “Sammy, don’t… don’t tell me you already knocked her up.”

“No!” Sam

“Ok, good. Because the last thing I need to worry about while slaughtering vamps and ghouls is you playing house with a literal demon spawn.”

“Just meet her, okay. She’s… different.”

“Oh, you mean her eyes don’t glow red and her body isn’t filled with black smoke?”

“No, they don’t. She’s human, Dean. She’s not a demon. She’s human. Though, she’s got some serious knowledge when it comes to magic.”

“Magic? Like… magic, magic?”

Sam nodded and desperately wanted to back up his words by showing his brother how (Y/N) had healed his hip. Instead, he decided to wait. Dean would need more than that if he was to be convinced that (Y/N) was on the level.

“Man, I go away for a year and all Hell breaks loose, literally. So what is the real plan here, Sammy? Because even if the girl is legit, you agreeing with dad leaves a bad taste in my mouth.”

“Dean, just breathe, okay? I promise you, it will all be okay.”

Once Sam left for the War Room, you laid back against the pillows and drew the blankets up to your chin. Fighting the smile that tugged at the corner of your mouth, you closed your eyes and couldn’t help but think about the night before, spent tangled up with your new husband in the tapestries and sheets. He was an amazing lover; from the moment he had first kissed you, until the moment you fell asleep, he attended to every part of your flesh with a gentle, yet fierce longing you didn’t know could exist.

Not one part of you wanted to want him. In fact the internal struggle that raged between your head and heart was raucous and frustrating. As you lay there with your eyes shut, your hand went to the place between your breasts where the vial of potion normally rested. It was when your hand felt nothing there but your own soft flesh, that you sat up quickly and with force. Panicked, you began to remember more details from the night before.

In the recklessness of tearing at what remained of each other’s clothing, the vial on the thin cord must have been removed and tossed aside. You had a vague memory of realizing it the night before, but you had been too punch drunk and lustful in Samuel’s arms to do much about it then.

Kicking off the covers, grabbing at the robe that lay across the back of the chair, you threw it around loosely and fell to the floor in search of the vial. As you frantically searched the room, your fears were starting to grow that Sam would find it, and you would have to explain… too much. Suddenly fear struck you that he would think you used it on him; that the night you two had spent together was contrived and manipulated as part of your plan. Truth is, that is exactly what it had been for, but there was no need for it. You and Sam found your way to each other naturally and coming to terms with the fact that you didn’t hate it, was something else entirely.

Before you could begin to process that feeling, you had to find the vial. Rooting around on the thick shag throw rug and coming up empty, you moved to under the bed, silently praying you would find it easily. Minutes were passing as if you had all the time in the world, and still the vial seemed to have disappeared. Even in the mess of clothing strewn around the room, there wasn’t a trace of it.

Another panicked thought hit... Sam would be back soon. Too much time had passed now, and you weren’t dressed. If he arrived and found you still half nude in your robe, hair a mess and frazzled, an explanation would be necessary. Nothing that you could say would sound convincing, especially with the bond you two had been forming over plotting against your fathers. Sighing in relent, you got up off the floor and went to the chest where you kept your clothing and personal effects to choose something to wear for the day.

Not too long after putting the finishing touches on yourself, you heard the rumble of the chamber door begin to open. You drew in a steadying breath and turned from your reflection in the ornate wall-hung mirror, to greet your husband. Opening your mouth to speak, you were immediately silenced when you saw that Sam wasn’t alone.

“(Y/N),” he said, a hint of a secret smile on his face as he reached out to take your hand, pulling you towards them both, “my brother has returned from Purgatory. Dean,” he stepped aside so Dean could come forward, “this is my wife, (Y/N).”

Seeing the much-storied Dean Winchester in the flesh was a shock. He must have been the reason the bells were ringing so early on a Tuesday; the joyous news of his return must be making its way through the city by now.

“Wow,” you breathed “It’s wonderful to have you home, My Lord.” You bowed your head and gave the slightest curtsy, unsure of the proper greeting, but not wanting to offend.

“Is this chick for real?” Dean asked in a semi-hushed tone while elbowing Sam in the ribs.

“Shut up,” Sam bit back and shook his head with a snort. “(Y/N), it’s okay, you can drop formalities in front of my brother. He would rather go back to the depths of Purgatory then be called My Lord.”

“I dunno, kinda has a nice ring to it,” Dean quipped, very amused with himself until he caught sight of his brother’s eye roll. “Fine,” he said, and turned his attention back to you. “Nice to meet you, (Y/N), I’ve heard absolutely nothing about you, so I am sure you will have no trouble living up to the hype.” He flashed Sam another distrustful glance then looked back at you again.

This time though, you could feel the older Winchester brother’s scrutiny as it traveled down your body from your hair to your toes. He examined you quietly as if looking for the marker that would clue him into exactly who you were. Something about the way his green eyes watching you with such distrust made you nervous, as if he could see straight through you and know every thought that staggered through your mind.

“I’m happy to see you home in one piece, Dean. Sam has been very worried for your safety,” you said, trying to keep the nerves in your voice to a minimum.

Dean gave a half-hearted smile. “Well, he wouldn’t be Sammy if he wasn’t worrying about me.”

“And I suppose you worry about him the same.”

“I do. Which is why, if you try anything to hurt him, I can promise you they will never find your remai--”

“Dean!” Sam’s demeanor and tone said all his brother needed to hear.

“Alright, I get it. I don’t know you and I am already being a dick. What can I say, its who I am.”

“I would have you no other way,” you said, returning his half-assed smile. “I can promise you that I am nothing like my father. Crowley is an evil man with evil intentions, who sold me off to his enemy to be a broodmare. He thought I would be miserable, pained… angry. Yet, I take great pleasure in the fact that his plan has so far backfired, and I’ve come to find a wonderful, loving man in your brother. Sure, we had our issues, but I think we are of the same mindset.”

“Meaning?” Dean asked, crossing his arms over his chest and watching you carefully.

“Meaning… neither of us what to help fulfil whatever crap our fathers are plotting. Instead, we want to stop them. End the War. Bring everyone home.”

DEan scoffed. “End the War? Sweetheart, that war is just getting started. Nothing can end it, not even Eve’s monsters killing every last Hunter and Winchester to walk this Earth.”

“We have to try,” Sam spoke up, holding eyes with his brother, then glancing your way.

“And somehow having a kid is part of that?”

“It's what our fathers want,” you replied and shrugged. “I have no desire to be a mother. I didn’t even know my own. And, my grandmother, as much as she has taught me, wasn’t exactly a stellar role model.”

“So why the push towards family planning?”

Sam shrugged. “That’s what we are trying to figure out.”

Dean got quiet and began to slowly pace around the room. His hand thoughtfully rubbed at his mouth and down his chin. He didn’t look at you or Sam at all, but kept his focus on the floor in front of him. After a few moments, he stopped in his tracks and shook his head, as if to clear its thoughts.

“Could that be what they are doing?” he whispered as a question, but Sam wasn’t sure if it was directed to him or if Dean was talking to himself. “God I hope that’s not what she was talking about…” he trailed off, clearing not speaking to Sam now.

“Dean? What are you talking about?” Sam asked.

If Dean heard his question, he ignored it. He shook his head and cleared his throat. “Can’t be… John would never…”

“Dean… dad would never, what?”

Dean’s piercing green eyes met with Sam’s then slowly made their way to you. “Sammy, I don’t… the things I heard on the battlefield… I doubt they’re true. But, still.”

“What is it, Dean?” Sam asked, both his impatience and temper starting to rise. “Tell me!”

“I think Dad and Crowley want to sacrifice your child to Eve.”

Series Tags: @theplaid-wearingmoose / @zombiewerewolfqueen / @silkiechicken / @collette04 / @katiecurls75 / @death-unbecomes-you / @colie87 / @roxytheimmortal / @klanceiscannon14 / @voltage-my2dlove / @flamencodiva / @xhannahbananax03

Sam Winchester: @buckyscrystalqueen / @unabashedsoul97

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#Sam winchester x you #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester AU #Sam winchester x reader #Crowley's daughter #SPN AU #Gothic AU #The Pact Part 6 #The Pact

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blackmissfrizzle · 5 years ago

Text

Part of Your World

Characters: Dean Winchester x black!reader

Summary: Its basically a Little Mermaid AU (still in the SPN realm) with a dash of African mythology.

Warnings: A couple of puns, because I couldn’t help myself lol

A/N: My love of Disney caused me to write another fic based on one of my fave princesses. Also it was inspired by this post I saw and then I had to do my own research, because I was so interested. I need more African mythology in fantasy! Anyways, as usual this is for the black girls that done feel seen in the show or the fandom! I hope you enjoy!

Humans were bad. They were selfish, careless, and evil. Or that’s what you were supposed to believe, according to your mother. But to you they were interesting and not as bad as your mother made them out to be. Just like merpeople some were as your mother described, but most were good or at least trying to be better. That’s why you had to save them.

One day when you were swimming up to the surface and saw a bunch of protectors of the land. Those things they called cars were flashing red and blue lights. There was a dead body on the shore and the person’s wounds were unnatural for another human to cause. So, naturally you investigated.

Since the time you were a teen, you would sneak on land to watch the humans up close and personal. Your Aunt Iliana was the sea witch. She gifted you with a necklace that allowed you walk on land. According to her, your destiny was on land, which is why your mother banned you from swimming too close to land and keeping you away from your aunt.

This time you were making your trek to land every night. Scuttle, your skin-walker friend allowed you to work at his bar and you hoped to catch some gossip on the murders. Tonight, was busier than usual. You were running from one end of the bar to the other and not catching a word about the killings. That was until you heard an alluring voice. It was deep, slightly gravelly, but smooth and could easily lull you to sleep.

“Dude, I’m putting money it’s a witch. That’s the only reasonable explanation.” Dean argued with his brother. They had been in town for 2 days and no leads whatsoever. All they had was a bunch of guys who suddenly had a turn of bad luck, lost all their money and died of on land drowning.

Not only were you attracted to this man’s voice, but he was looking into the murders too! You had to make yourself known. Turning around just in time you saw him finish his drink. He was the most perfect man you’ve seen. His green eyes rivaled the coral reefs vibrant color. His lips were unexpectedly plump for a man of his shade. His jaw was set hard, but you could tell he had a soft nature.

“Stop staring and talk to the man!” Scuttle encouraged you while tending to other patrons.

“Stop being a guppy, Y/N!” You told yourself before making your way to the man. Pointing at his empty glass, you asked the stranger if he wanted another drink.

Dean had to do a double take. The beautiful bartender was talking to him. He noticed her all night. When she was walking up and down the bar, she was singing to herself and he thought she had a beautiful voice. Some of the time Dean would tune Sam out just to listen to her.

“Yes, please. Can you make it a double?”

Shaking your head yes, you brought out the good liquor. Scuttle would most likely kill you, but you needed information and the best way to get it was making this beautiful stranger’s lips loose. “On the house,” you mentioned when you saw he was about to object for the pricey whiskey.

“Thank you.” He gave you a loop-sided smile and you walked away, not wanting to push too quickly. “Wait,” he called out, pulling something out of his pocket. It was a picture of him in some fancy suit saying FBI Agent Dean Plant. “I’m Agent Plant and this is Agent Page,” he pointed to the taller man next to him, “have you seen any of these gentlemen here?”

Dean stared at the red-haired beauty as she stared at the photos of the male victims. It wasn’t like him to be so mesmerized by a woman that he didn’t even notice her pointing out the latest victim.

“Yeah, he was here. I remembered because he seemed so sad, so I decided to check on him.”

Agent Plant perked up and leaned forward on the bar, “Do you know what had him so upset?”

You wanted to look at Dean, but his green eyes made your stomach flutter like a school of fish, so you paid attention to his partner. “Um, something about how he made a bad deal and lost all his money and his girlfriend.”

The two brothers turned towards each other and silently communicated that they both thought it was a demon deal. Quickly, they both stood up and paid for the drinks. “Thank you! We’ll be back tomorrow.” Dean smiled at you before following his brother out the bar.

For a while you stood there in a trance. He was coming back tomorrow! You would have to tell Scuttle to take you shopping for some more clothes.

“Don’t do it.”

“Huh?” Scuttle’s voice startled you to the present.

“He’s a hunter and human. Both things your mother hates the most. Secretly help them and go on about your life.” Scuttle warned, then attended to another bar patron.

Too bad you didn’t listen to Scuttle, because now you were in trouble.

The following night, Dean and Sam came back they seemed discouraged. Turned out their lead was a bust. No demon deals occurred in this town according to Crowley.

Throughout the night, you would eavesdrop on their conversation about the case and it was becoming clearer to you what exactly were killing these men. Because of a festival that happened earlier that day, the bar was slammed, and you didn’t get to tip off Dean and Sam about what they were hunting before they left.

Time to time your best friends, Sebastian and Floyd would escort you on land to ensure your safety. No one wanted to feel the wrath of your mother if something bad were ever to happen to you.

“Fellas, I need one of you to cover for me.” You leaned across the bar already batting your eyes. It was always a struggle to get these two to do something without a little coercion.

“Why?” Sebastian ran his hands through his dreads, he was already suspecting you were up to no good.

“So, I can tell the hunters what’s killing the humans.” You rushed out, then tried to leave but Sebastian stopped you.

“Uh huh. No way, missy. We all agreed that you would do it without outing yourself.” Sebastian was the harder of the two to convince. Being your mother’s court advisor made him be more overprotective of you.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Y/N. Humans are already scary, but hunters are terrifying.” Floyd shivered at the idea of talking to one. He could already imagine his tail as a trophy on some hunter’s wall.

You ruffled your friend’s kinky blue curls. “Don’t be guppy, Floyd.” Finished messing up his hair, you ran out the bar. Better to ask for forgiveness than permission. It was always that way with those two. You wanted to do something, they would say it was a bad idea, and then you would do it anyway. Those two should’ve learned by now.

You didn’t have to go far since Scuttle’s bar was on the beach and Dean and Sam were already there. It looked like they were inspecting something, when you saw hands made of water grab onto the two and drug them into the sea.

It was her; you knew it. Shedding your clothes, you dived into the water. You couldn’t bask in the water like you usually would after a day on land. Cutting through the current you found the men drowning and the mysterious water hands gone. She didn’t need to kill them instantly. The depths she brought them to would do the job for her. She just didn’t count on you to come in and save the day.

You were a lot stronger in water than on land, so it was easy to drag both men up to the surface. Hopefully, she didn’t have eyes on you. She had eyes everywhere in the water.

You took them to your hidden grotto you used to come onto land or just to think alone. Using your powers to manipulate water, you expelled the water from their lungs.

Dean was the first one coming into consciousness. It was the same voice from last night. The bartender, he thought. He sat up to thank her, but she wasn’t there. The only thing he thought he saw was a fin.

“Sammy!?” Dean rolled over to his brother. He slapped him to jolt him awake.

Sam sat up, out of sorts for a moment. “Dude, what the hell was that?” He dragged a hand over his face.

Dean shook his head. “Man, I don’t know.”

The brothers sat there confused not knowing what the hell they were gonna do.

You watched the brothers leave the grotto from behind a rock formation. Once they were gone, you emerged from your hiding spot.

“Helping hunters?” She clicked her tongue. “I’m disappointed in you. I thought a daughter of Cora’s would know better.” Mami Wata stood above you in all white, draped in the most expensive jewels, stoking the head of her snake. This was the first time she appeared to you and you were in awe despite the circumstances.

“You’re killing innocent men. What else am I supposed to do?” Normally, you would speak to her with respect, but this situation did not call for it. People were dying.

“They’re not innocent. I promised them riches in exchange for fidelity. They broke the agreement.”

She was right. Those men did make the deals of their own free will, but what she was doing didn’t sit right with you. “But you didn’t have to kill them. Other Mami Watas leave them broke.”

“Who are you to question me?!” Her voice echoed, causing some of the rocks to shake. “Sorry,” Mami Wata regained her composure when she saw you tremble in fear. “I like you, Princess Y/N. You’re strong-spirited, but I can’t have you in my way, but I also promised your mother I would protect her offspring.”

“Then what now?” You crossed your arms with an attitude. Mami Wata released the python that was wrapped around her into the water.

The green creature slithered up to your neck and squeezed tightly. “It’ll be hard for you to help the hunters without that beautiful voice of yours.” In a panic, you clutched your neck trying to speak, but it was already too late. Mami Wata already took your voice.

The snake went back to its satisfied owner. “A little piece advice,” Mami Wata looked at you with pity. “The one with the green eyes, don’t fall for him. The pale ones are always the worst.” She chuckled as she made her exit.

Even though, you didn’t have your voice, you had to find a way to warn the hunters.

Sam and Dean were going crazy. All they could come up with is that they were possibly dealing with the god, Poseidon and even that sounded far-fetched for them.

They were knee-deep in research when there was a knock on their door. Both brothers grabbed their guns and Sam looked out the peephole. “It’s the bartender from the other night.”

Dean shoved his little brother out the way. “Smooth, dude.” Sam mumbled at a flustered Dean. Opening the door, Dean greeted you. In return you waved back. “Hey, Y/N, right?”

You shook your head vigorously, excited that he remembered your name.

“What can I help you with?” He asked, looking at you expectantly. Oh shit! How were you gonna let him now you were there to help?

An idea popped in your head. You held up a finger and brought out the cellphone Scuttle bought for you. Unlocking the phone, all the words were gibberish to you when they shouldn’t be. You were fluent in all languages. Mami Wata must’ve cursed all your modes of communications. Son of a bitch!

“Woah!” Dean lifted his arms as you pushed pass him when you saw a photo of one of the victims. Grabbing it you motioned to the boys you could help. They were confused to why you weren’t speaking and even more confused on how you knew another victim.

“Dean, I think she’s connected somehow.” You eagerly waved the photo in agreeance. Sam crouched down to assure you he wasn’t a threat. “Did you lose your voice because you know who did this?” Sam clapped his hands in victory when you confirmed his suspicion.

Dean wanted to believe you were there to help, but he could never be too careful. He’s been burned too many times before. “How do we know you’re not the one doing the killings?”

Pinching your nose and pointing to the boys, you reenacted their drowning and you pulling them out. “You’re the one who saved us? How?” Dean scanned you up and down, there was no way you had the strength to pull him AND his brother. Well, no way if you were only human.

Of course, they wouldn’t believe you. To them you were a human woman. You puckered your face like you seen humans do to imitate fish, then you pointed to your closed legs and made swimming motions with your hands.

“No way.” Sam thought out loud.

“What,” Dean asked, still in the dark.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Man, you were always bad at charades.”

“I’m not!” Dean sputtered like a child.

“I think she’s a mermaid.”

“Sam, don’t you think we would’ve heard of them being real?” Dean couldn’t wrap his head around the idea.

Dean’s disbelief caused an argument between the boys. They were too busy with trying to be right that they didn’t notice you taking off your clothes. There was only one way to end this argument. Just in your bra you tapped your seashell necklace and prepared for the fall.

At the sound of something falling, Sam and Dean stopped arguing. “Oh shit!” They simultaneously said, realizing Sam was right.

It was uncomfortable to have your tail and not be near water, so you transformed back to legs in forth of them. When Sam and Dean noticed you were naked down below, they quickly turned their backs to you.

After you were dressed properly, you tapped both on their broad shoulders. Questions were flying at you. Was it another mermaid behind the killings? How many mermaids are there? Are you a good or bad mermaid? How do you have sex?

You pointed to the photos to direct the hunters’ attention (more Dean than Sam) back to the case. “Oh yeah, the case.” Dean sheepishly rubbed the back of his head. “You said you knew who’s behind the murders, right?”

Nodding yes, you began thinking of how to act out Mami Wata. Jumping up and down you got the boys’ attention when you figured it out.

You mimicked the motion parents do when they rock their babies. “Cradle? Rocking?” Dean guessed.

“Baby?!” Sam called out. You smiled at his correct guess, but that wasn’t the word they needed, it was only a connection.

Pointing between you and your imaginary baby, you hoped they would get it.

“Mom?”

“Mother?”

“Mama?”

“Mommy?” Dean threw out. You squeezed his cheeks and gave him a kiss.

Dean gave Sam a superior look. “And you said I was bad at charades.” Sam ignored his brother’s smug smirk and paid attention to you searching for something. Your eyes lit up when you found it. This should be easy.

“Water?” Dean asked and it earned him another kiss from you. He smiled victoriously at Sam. Now he wanted to play charades with you all the time.

Combining the two words, Sam asked you, “Mommy water?” Close enough. You knew they weren’t familiar with the dialect. You nodded your head yes and Sam began searching it. “Okay, I think I got it.” Sam announced after a few minutes. “Mami Wata?” He looked to you for approval. You jumped over to him and placed a big kiss on Sam’s cheek.

“Shut up,” Dean told Sam before he could say something smart. “What are we dealing with?”

“Okay, lore says Mami Wata is an African water goddess. She can take an appearance of a mermaid or human. Either way she’s extremely beautiful, like Aphrodite beautiful.”

Dean hovered above his brother. “Enough with the backstory. Why is she killing dudes?”

Sam scrolled down further until he found what he wanted. “I think I got it. Mami Wata appears to some men and promise them riches and good fortune as long as they remain faithful to her. Cheat and you’ll lose everything. Sometimes even your life.”

“Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. How do we kill her?”

Sam leaned back and sighed at what he read. “Wooden stake dipped in the blood of one of their living victims.”

Dean started browsing the local newspaper. He remembered something sticking out. He shook the paper when he found the article about a man winning the two million dollars lottery. “Boom! I think we got our next victim.” He started grabbing his belongings. “Sammy, Y/N, let’s roll.”

It was always a set-up. The men Mami Wata made deals with were notorious cheaters. She knew they would break the deal and cheat. With some teamwork, preparation, and some luck the three of you were able to kill her before she got to her next victim.

“You know it would be nice to have a mermaid on Team Free Will.” Dean desperately wanted to spend more time with you.

You intertwined your fingers with Dean’s. “I wish, but I belong in the ocean. Princess duties.”

Dean nodded his head to himself. “Well, let me leave you with a parting gift.”

Dean’s lips were less than an inch away from yours when you heard your mom’s voice. “Y/N!” She was flanked by a sulking Sebastian and Floyd.

You wasted no time going to her. For her to be on land meant you were deep in trouble. You gave Dean one more glance, taking in his features for the last time.

Tears feel from your eyes as Sebastian and Floyd tried to comfort you. Your mother really banned you from the kingdom. Sneaking to land? Forgivable. Almost kissing a human? Forgivable. But killing her goddess? Unforgivable, apparently.

Your friends assured you the queen would change her mind. Despite your different beliefs, you were her favorite because you were so similar. But how long would it take for her to change her mind? Your mother could hold a grudge.

“Y/N?” Dean called into the grotto. Behind him was Sam and Scuttle. “What’s wrong?” He sat by you and pulled you into a hug.

Sebastian splashed some water on him.

“What the fuck, dude?!”

“Don’t you think you’ve helped enough? Both of you?” Sebastian glared at both brothers.

“What did we do?” Sam asked, a little scared of the abnormally buff merman.

Splashing some water with your tail, you admonished your friend. “Don’t mind Seb, he’s always crabby.”

“I get crabby when my princess and friend gets banished because she helped hunters.”

Sticking up a finger, you corrected him. “For your information I got in trouble for killing Mami Wata.”

Sam knelt by you, feeling horrible that him and Dean were the cause of your current predicament “Is it true?”

“That I got banned? Yeah, but it’s not your fault. I knew this could happen. I’m just bummed I have to find a new home.”

Scuttle laid a hand on your shoulder. “Y/N/N, you always have a home with me.”

Sam and Dean traded looks with each other, this was their fault and they needed to fix it. “Or…” Dean drew out. “You can live with us, hunt with us.” Dean saw the debate in your eyes. “That’s only if you want to. No pressure.” He added nervously.

When your eyes lit up, Floyd began shaking his head no. “Y/N, nuh uh! There’s vampires, werewolves, ghosts, and demons!”

“Stop being a guppy, Floyd!” Your Aunt Iliana chuckled as she swam up with her dolphin, Pica. “This is where she’s meant to be.” She gave you a knowing smirk.

Her prophecy! You remembered. Sliding back in the water you gave your aunt and friends hugs and kisses goodbye. You promised them to visit as much as you could.

With a press to your necklace, your tail turned into legs and with some magic from Aunt Iliana you had clothes on this time.

“Ready?” Dean offered his hand.

You put your hand in his. “Yeah.” It sucked to be kicked out of your world, but now you could be a part of Dean’s.

Tagging: @titty-teetee @chonisberonica @awshitdaviddonedonethisshitagain @cocooned-butterfly @babypink224221 @deanscroissant @deansbbysblog @nervouspetsonanime @nerd-lovely

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deans-baby-momma · 4 years ago

Text

Mommy’s (Not So) Good Girl-18

By New Year's Eve Mom was over her disappointment at the lack of a ring and a proposal and had thrown her all into hosting the block's best New Years party ever.

As I was growing up, Mom and I would attend the others' celebrations but usually ended up back home before the ball dropped and would watch it together, cuddled up on the sofa at home.

That happened more regularly once Ben arrived; being closer to the bed for when the kid went to sleep.

This year though Mom had apparently volunteered to hold the annual party and from the time we woke up on December 31st, we were put to work getting things set up.

Ben and I are left at home, working on cleaning up the house while Dean and Mom run to the store for some last minute items and more booze.

As I'm putting the breakfast dishes in the dishwasher, I think back to just seven days ago when on Christmas Eve, Dean had given me the item he had visited the jewelry store for.

FLASHBACK

"It was your bracelet that had me going back to that store," he explained. "The incompetent sales guy couldn't get the protection sigil correct. I kept having to return it."

"Why? Does it really matt-"

"Yes-" he whisper-yelled at me. "Yes it matters. It has to be flawless. One small imperfection and it doesn't work. "

The way he demanded that the bauble be correct made me wonder if he actually believed in the power of something supernatural. Then again, he must because he has the same symbol tattooed on his chest. It made me see Dean Winchester in a whole new light. He was superstitious.

END FLASHBACK

And I’m not going to lie, it made me feel…...loved. That he cared enough for me to get something that he believed would protect and shield me. Wait, did Dean love me?! No, we were just two people fucking around, right? No feelings or emotions involved.

As soon as I start up the dishwasher I rush back to my room and go straight to my jewelry box. The hinges creak lowly as I open the lid and pull out the bangle. I stare at it and smile, realizing the significance of the gift. Dean loves me. Dean wants to keep me safe. Tears pop into my eyes as I look at each charm. Each one holds a special meaning, an understanding between the two of us; only the two of us.

The heart with the words ‘Baby Girl’ engraved on it is special because that it what Dean calls me when we are intimate; the disc shaped with the word ‘Daddy’ on it because that’s what I call him in those times; the diamond encrusted dollar sign because he actually listens and pays attention about my hopes and dreams of becoming a finance advisor someday. And then of course the protection symbol; he wants to protect me and keep me safe.

I can feel the love and adoration just by simply looking at the bracelet. Which, come to think of it, Dean probably realized that and bought it so I could feel his yearning while away at campus. I close my hand around the chain and bring my fist to my heart. “I love you too,” I whisper into the air before I place it back into the box and shut the lid.

When Mom and Dean return, I can’t help but steal looks and glances at the man I am falling in love with. He is so generous, so big-hearted, honest and trust-worthy. I am glad that the person I have finally fallen for is a man who should be admired. A man who should be cherished. I vow right then and there to make sure he doesn’t go a day without knowing how much I appreciate and value him.

When the house is full and the party is thriving, I take a chance at getting a drink. Yes, I am 21 years old now and this would not be my first adult beverage but I have never attempted this in the presence of my mother. How is she going to react to see me enjoying an alcoholic drink.

Then, I remember she has been witness to it. The fucking video of me at Halloween, grinding on Taylor and talking about sex. With Dean; with the man she has been living with for the last 8 months!

I carry the red solo cup through the house, smiling and greeting people as I pass until I get to the back patio where some of the more inebriated couples have seemed to congregate. I guess the illusion of the darkness of night has lured them outside. ‘Hopefully the ones out there are with the ones they arrived with or this could really turn into a mess,’ I think as I open the door and step out into the night air.

It’s chilly and there are traces of snow on the ground from the storm we got last week but the temperatures have been mild and on the warmer side so here it is New Year’s Eve, a few hours before midnight and people are mingling outside.

“Abby!” Brad calls when he spots me and I roll my eyes. He is standing in the corner with Debby, another girl from our high school class. From the look on her face and the glare she sends my way, I definitely interrupted something between them.

“Hey Brad,” I say as I approach them, keeping a decent distance.

“I see Mommy’s good girl isn’t such a good girl anymore,” he smirks and looks down at the cup in my grasp. “Or is that just soda?”

“No Brad,” I sneer. “It’s not just soda. Ya know, I turned 21 this year. I am legal. Are you or her?” I ask, nodding toward Debby.

“Oh that’s right,” Brad says as he steps away from Debby and approaches me. “You got a lot for your 21st birthday didn’t you? Got yourself a ‘Daddy’.”

I look at Brad wide-eyed and he chuckles. “Yea I saw the video. I think the whole world has seen the horny bunny talking about her Daddy. Just exactly who is this Daddy character that’s been messing around with my girl?”

Brad places his arm on my shoulders and I quickly shrug it off. “I’m not your girl, Brad. Never have been, never will be.” I turn and walk back into the house.

Brad continues to provoke me as he yells out, “Does he even exist Abby?’ and laughs as he makes his way back to his date.

Back inside, the music was louder and conversations were harder to hear; only snippets of dialogue. The Parks from across the street were in the dining room discussing something with the Jackson’s, and Brad’s parents, from down the way; Mom and Dean were in the kitchen talking with Stan and his wife, Monica from next door. Others were throughout the house debating this and that.

I walked toward my room, where I could be alone. Even Ben had a “date” as he was in his room with Noah playing video games. I was the odd man out. I had no date and no one to talk to so why even bother to mingle?

At a quarter to midnight, Mom knocks on my door to inform me that everyone's gathering around the television to watch the new year come in. I follow her down the hall to the front room where all the couples, excluding Ben and Noah, are hugged up and looking excited to watch 2010 become 2011.

I, on the other hand, couldn’t care less. I didn’t have anyone to celebrate it with.

5...

4...

3...

2...

Everyone in the house yells out “Happy New Year” and then I am surrounded by eight couples kissing while the ages old song, Auld Lang Syne is played through the tv speakers. I quietly tap my foot waiting for them all to break apart so I can bid them all a goodnight and retreat back to my room.

What I didn’t expect was for Dean to pull away from Mom and head toward me, a sheepish grin on his face. Was he going to kiss me? In front of Mom and all the others? What the hell is going on? Am I dreaming?

I must be. I am probably still hiding out in my bedroom, asleep on my bed, dreaming of getting to kiss the one man I want to on this night because there is no way in hell that is about to happen!

@lostinaseaoffictionalbliss @spnbaby-67 @tftumblin @sea040561 @delightfullykrispypeach @larajadeschmidt13 @vicariouslythruspn @squirrelnotsam @death-unbecomes-you @sandlee44 @blacktithe7 @deanwanddamons @hoboal87 @marvelfanbrenda @vicmc624 @smoothdogsgirl @elliloumom @stoneyggirl @kricketc29

#series #Mommy's (Not So) Good Girl #dean winchester #lisa braeden #abby braeden #ben braeden #dean x lisa #dean x abby #canon divergence #supernatural #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #Smut #angst #fluff #season 6

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plasticdean · 5 years ago

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stone cold - chapter 3

the sun

mob!dean-charles chapman au warnings: language, smoking, and drinking word count: 1.9k series masterlist

“Dean, are you even paying attention?”

I snapped out of my thoughts and adjusted myself in my seat behind my desk. Now that I was in charge, I took over my father’s office and lived in our uncomfortably large mansion with just the two maids while my father was gone most nights.

“I don’t think you are,” my business advisor, Julia, said with a sigh.

Julia started working for my father when she was 21 but to be honest, I’m pretty sure they were fucking for a while but I never gave a shit about my father’s extracurriculars to really look into it.

I lean back in my chair and rub my eyes, “I’m sorry, I just got a lot on my mind.”

And I did, that wasn’t a lie. For the past week, all I could think about was that yacht that supposedly my dad owned that was named after my mom. When the fuck did my dad get a yacht and why in all my 22 years of life was that my first time getting on it? Surely my mom would’ve taken me on it or at least told me about it if it was hers.

What’s really fucked is I actually killed somebody on it. Did that sick fuck actually plan that?

“Jesus fucking christ, I’ll come back tomorrow afternoon. Whatever is on your mind, please figure it the fuck out, we got a lot of shit to go through,” she said sternly, grabbing her briefcase and leaving my office, slamming the door shut.

I leaned on my desk and ran my fingers through my hair, tugging at the ends in frustration.

Then, I realized that Julia could have the answer. She was my father’s advisor, they were close, she’d have to know about the yacht.

I quickly get up from my chair and rush out of my office and down the hall to hopefully catch up to her. I almost eat shit going down the stairs but quickly recover and make it out the front door just as she’s pulling out.

“JULIA, WAIT!” I holler loudly as I run behind her car. She slams on the brakes and rolls her window down, poking her head out, “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

I’m out of breath as I approach her and struggle to get my words out as I try to catch my breath, “How-how long has my dad had his yacht for?”

She furrows her eyebrows, “I don’t know, maybe twelve or thirteen years? Why?”

13 years ago I was 8, the same age my mom “disappeared”.

So my father probably killed my mother then bought a fucking yacht and named it after her? Then decided to never tell me about it until I’m 22 and even then doesn’t really tell me anything about it and instead just has me get on it and kill some man.

What the fuck?

____________

My eyes were heavy from the amount of whiskey I drank and my throat burned from cigarette smoke. After my talk with Julia, I decided to stay up and wait for my dad to stumble in and confront him.

I was sick and tired of him walking around with that stupid smug look while my mother’s blood was on his hands.

I went through a pack of cigarettes and half a bottle of whiskey. I smoked a cigarette every time I thought about my mother and drank a glass of whiskey to drown out those thoughts.

I was on the deck behind the house watching the sunrise when one of the maids came out, “Mr. Chapman, are you okay?” She asked with worry laced in her scared voice.

She was sweet but so scared and intimidated by me just because my father is a fucking prick. That’s how everyone was around us though, scared to speak because they were terrified of accidentally saying the wrong thing that would end up in them getting the shit kicked out of them….or worse.

“I’m fine, could you, however, call my father’s cell phone and tell him that his son needs him now? It’s important,” I slur as I take another cigarette out.

She nods without saying anything and goes back inside. I look back at the sun and just feel anger running through my veins.

My mother used to sit me in her lap on the balcony to the master bedroom and watch the sunset. It was one of her favorite things to do because in her words, “the sun can’t be taken away.”

What I wouldn’t give for her to be back and for the sun to be taken away.

____________

I finished the whiskey I had in my glass as I heard footsteps slowly approaching me.

“Whiskey for breakfast?” My father’s said smugly as he sat down on the step next to me.

I tore my eyes away from the sun and tried my best to concentrate on what I had planned to say to him but he was so blurry. My head was so blurry.

I think I drank too much.

“Fucking hell Dean, how much have you had?”

I stood up, stumbling a bit, and pointed my finger down at him, “fucking enough to see how much of a sick fuck you are,” I slur.

He looks up at me completely dumbfounded, “what the fuck are you talking about?”

I shake my head and slightly chuckle, feeling the liquid courage from all the whiskey I drank rising up, “That-that fucking yacht you FINALLY took me on the other day that you have owned f-for 13 FUCKING YEARS that I never knew about, why the fuck is it named after MY mother?!” I ask angrily, my words slurring.

My father just watches me, not even flinching at every word I yell and just simply shrugs, “People name their yachts all the time.”

I clench the whiskey glass that’s in my hand and out of anger I smash it down next to my father who finally flinches as the glass shatters and spreads out in pieces around him.

“BULLSHIT!” I yell, “YOU DIDN’T LOVE HER ENOUGH TO DO THAT!”

I couldn’t tell if it was the whiskey or my anger that was making me feel so hot, probably a mixture of both but I couldn’t control anything and honestly, it felt really good.

“WHO THE FUCK NAMES THEIR YACHT AFTER THEIR WIFE THAT THEY FUCKING KILLED??” I asked, my voice slightly cutting out from how loudly I was yelling.

My father quickly stood up, finally looking angry. He grabbed me by the collar of my shirt and got in my face, “Dean, I’m fucking tired of this shit. You don’t know ANYTHING about what riles you up so fucking much,” He says sternly.

“Yeah well maybe if you didn’t act so fucking suspicious whenever I brought it up, maybe I’d feel different,” I said, seething over his sudden behavior.

My father let me go making me stumble backward, falling flat on my back. I stayed down, groaning from the sharp pain that went through my head after bouncing it off the hardwood of the back deck.

I look up seeing my father’s blurred out figure standing over me. He shook his head and let out a loud sigh, “You’re a fucking mess, Dean. You need to figure out what’s more important to focus on before you get yourself fucking killed.”

What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

I opened up my mouth reply but couldn’t get any words out as my vision began to blur even more and I no longer could see my dad’s figure, only complete darkness.

____________

The first thing I felt when I woke up was my face burning. I open my eyes, having to squint because of bright the sun was. I slowly sit up, my head pounding and my face hot and finally realized that I was still on the deck.

That piece of shit really left me out here?

I slowly stand up and attempt to walk back into the house. My head felt like a hundred knives were going through my head and my face felt like someone was pressing a hot iron all over it.

As soon as I make it inside, I go to the closest mirror and groan as I notice my bright red skin. A sunburn, fucking great.

I stumble into the kitchen getting a glass of water and chugging it down to relieve my awful dry mouth. One of the maids come in and gasp when she spots my face, “Oh my god Mr. Chapman, you must put aloe on your face right now, I can go get it.”

I shake my head after guzzling down another glass of water, “No, No I’m fine, I can get it myself. Thank you.”

She nods and gives me a look of sympathy before turning around and going into the living room.

I look out the window over the sink and noticed Julia’s car in the driveway. I look at the clock on the wall and see it’s almost 2:30pm. Why the fuck didn’t she try to wake me up?

I got another glass of water and moved as quickly as my body allowed me to up the stairs and down the hallway to my office.

Before I storm in I stop when I hear Julia’s voice, “Leo, I don’t know how you could’ve never seen this coming. He was never stupid as a kid and he’s certainly not stupid now.”

I heard my dad scoff, “He’s acting fucking stupid right now.”

I know he’s not fucking talking about me right now.

“No, he needs closure. His mom disappears when he’s eight and he’s now 22 and still doesn’t know where she is. Would it really be that bad if you just told-”

My dad cut Julia off, “Dean is a fucking psycho who is just unfit to run this business.”

The fucker was talking about me but also, Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. My plan will totally get fucked if my douchebag father actually decides to can me.

I wait about thirty seconds before barging in, “Fuck, I’m sorry, I’m here.”

Julia gasps as she looks at me, my father shaking his head and standing up from behind my desk, “Julia and I already talked about what she needed to talk to you about. I wrote down the important shit that you need to look over.”

I just nodded and took over, sitting down in my chair and looked down at the paper frowning, “Who is Justin?” I ask when I scan over the name.

“I think he’s the guy that’s been taking money from us. He helps move our shipments at the docks. You need to go see him tomorrow and just ask him about it,” My dad states.

I furrow my eyebrows as I look at him doubtfully, “Just ask him about it?”

My dad just shrugs and goes to walk out, “Do what you gotta do, I just want my money back” he says lowly.

I look at Julia and she just rolls her eyes and shrugs.

Being able to finally get to go on these little “meetings” by myself really had me thinking.

I’m the one in charge. I can about things however I wanted. My father did say “do what you gotta do.”

I have endured through my dad and grandpa’s bullshit for too many years.

I certainly was going to do what I had to do.

These motherfuckers didn’t deserve to see the sunrise and sunset every day.

____________

read chapter 4

#dean charles chapman #dean-charles chapman #mob!dean #dean charles chapman imagine #dean charles chapman au #fanfiction

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strangethings-everywhere · 5 years ago

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Beautiful Ruins // Royal!Dean x Knight!George AU// Ch.2

Masterlist Ch.1

Wordcount: 1546 Warnings: the prostitute (again), cursing, dean is a sword fighty boy

---

Dean woke up to sunshine streaming through holes in stained curtains and a pounding headache behind his eyes. He had no idea how much alcohol he had consumed and frankly he didn’t care.

But he felt like shit.

He was also shirtless and had no recollection of getting to that point. God, what happened?

The bedsheets shifted suddenly, sending Dean scrambling to his feet. There was a naked woman, a prostitute he didn’t recognize lying haphazardly on the bed, tangled in the sheets. Dean looked down at himself, at his bare chest littered with bruises and scratches. Shit.

George was nowhere to be seen.

Dean gathered up his belongings, slid on his shirt, and quietly slipped out of the room. The sun wasn’t high in the sky, but high enough to where Dean knew he would be seen reentering the castle. He usually made it back home before the sun rose, but something had been different this time.

George had been different this time. If only he could remember what they did after leaving the pub or where George had gone.

He slowly made his way up to the wall, trying to keep his head low and out of the guards’ view. It didn’t help that he felt as if he was going to vomit at any second. If anyone stopped him or attempted to speak to him, he would throw up.

“Oi, you! In the hood!”

Fuck.

Dean stopped and looked up. The guard yelling at him was one of the few that he knew personally, a young man named Oliver. He had been his sparring partner a few times, but he would definitely turn him over to his father’s advisor once Dean was inside the gates.

“Oliver, it’s me. Just let me in.” Dean gave him a tight-lipped smile. Oliver began to laugh, leaning over the edge of the wall to get a better look.

“All due respect, your Highness, but you look like shit.”

“Thanks. Open the gate.” He snapped, pinching the bridge of his nose. He desperately needed a bath. He desperately needed to eat.

“Alright, whatever you say.” Oliver turned away from him and yelled down some orders. There was some shuffling behind the wall and the small guard’s door next to the gate swung open.

Dean knew that it was only a matter of time before his father (more like his father’s advisor, Lord Christopher) found out about his adventure. He didn’t have to wait very long; he was ten minutes into his bath when Lord Christopher made his grand entrance.

“Your Highness.”

Dean groaned, sinking lower into the water. “Yes, I’m still alive. Can this wait until after I’m dressed?”

“Apparently not, considering that his Highness enjoys spending his nights in brothels and bars and lord knows where else.” Lord Christopher shut the door loudly behind him and slowly sat down on a stool, staring haughtily down his nose at Dean.

“What? You don’t have any vices, oh wise one?” Dean sneered at the old man. He raised one of his legs out of the water with a splash, hitting Lord Christopher’s robe. Glorious.

“Oh, don’t be a child.” The advisor sniffed. Dean laughed dryly.

“I’m not. I’m hungover, I’m tired, and I’m currently being lectured by an old man while trying to take a bath.” He fixated Lord Christopher with his most withering glare. “So fuck off, old man. Come back when my father knows what I’ve done.”

Lord Christopher stood, his face a mask of disappointment. “Whatever His Highness wishes.” With a low bow, the older man left the room.

Dean leaned his head back against the rim of the tub, his hair dripping water onto the floor. He just wanted to be alone. No. He wanted a different life, he wanted last night to be his every day.

Soon, Dean was asleep.

When he woke up, there was a pile of clean clothes hanging on the door of his wardrobe. A pair of black trousers, a white long-sleeved shirt that tied at the collar and black boots. He smiled as he dried himself off. The kindness of the castle staff would be one of the few things he would miss after he left. After getting dressed and fastening on his sword, Dean ventured out into the corridor.

The castle was alive with people, mostly the maids and servants rushing by with great determination. Dean slipped by them all with nothing but a nod and a soft smile. The staff would stop and bow or curtsy of course, but Dean barely interacted with them.

He wanted to go outside. He needed fresh air. He needed space.

By the time he made into the courtyard, it felt like his heart was trying to beat out of his chest. He felt angry, upset, enraged, and yet calm and collected.

He needed to hit something. Dean marched over to the collection of straw dummies, pulled out his sword, and sliced the head off the first one in the line.

It felt so good. So SO good.

He did it again. And again. Over and over until his body was covered in sweat and his vision was saturated in red. Dean stood over the bodies of the mutilated straw men, breathing hard.

“D’you want a sparring partner?”

Dean spun around wildly, strands of hair sticking to his sweaty face. Behind him stood a young man in rough brown breeches with holes in the knees, a dirty blue tunic, and a leather breastplate. He was barefoot and had a glove on his sword hand.

It was George.

Dean nearly fell down as he stared at the boy. George was also sweaty, swinging the dull practice sword back and forth. His blond hair shone in the afternoon sun, his blue eyes full of that trademark determination. Dean had the sneaking suspicion that George had no idea who he was and deep down, he wanted to keep it that way.

“George? What are you-” Dean sheathed his sword and brushed his hair out of his eyes.

“Sorry?” George took a few steps closer. “Do I…”

“Yeah, we met last night at the pub.” Dean felt his heart sink. He didn’t think they had gotten that drunk but it would help if he could remember what they had done after leaving the pub.

Luckily, George’s face lit up like the sun and stars itself. “Yes, I do remember! I’m sorry, I’m a bit hungover.” He grinned, leaning on his sword. “Never thought I’d see you here!”

Dean couldn’t help but smile. “It’s alright. Wh-what are you doing here?”

George spun his sword around. “I’m a knight in training.” He made a fancy show of tossing his sword from one hand to the other. “Why are you here Dean?”

Dean paused. He never remembered giving George his name and hearing his name, his given name, from the lips of people in the castle was something so utterly foreign to him. It made him feel warm. “Uh, I’m just…” He motioned towards the pile of decapitated dummies.

“Well do you want a sparring partner?” George turned towards a pile of practice swords and tossed Dean one. Dean unbuckled his sword from his belt and discarded it in the pile of dummies.

“More than anything.” Dean assumed his stance, George doing the same. The two boys began to circle each other like animals on the prowl, swords at the ready. Dean began to feel that ache, that anger gnawing at his soul once more. He tried his hardest to suppress it. He didn’t want to hurt George.

George took the first step, lunging towards Dean with a powerful slash of his blade. Dean, knowing that he would have to be quick and use his size against the larger boy, quickly parried George’s swing and spun out of the way, never taking his eyes off George.

“Fancy footwork you’ve got.” George taunted.

“I’ve had a lot of teachers,” Dean answered. He stepped forward and swung at George and their blades met with a clang.

Clang, clang, clang!

The gnawing feeling grew as they danced around each other, lunging and parrying with growing intensity. Dean’s swordwork grew faster, more methodical, more deadly.

He started to forget it was George. It became his future. George became his war.

“Dean!” George bellowed as he blocked a swing aimed at his head. Dean barely heard him. He could only hear his heart beating in his ears.

George swiped Dean’s feet out from under him, sending Dean sprawling onto the ground. Dean swung his sword wildly in the air, accidentally catching George on the jaw.

Time seemed to slow down and all of the anger in Dean’s body dissolved. He tossed his sword to the side and scrambled onto his hands. “Shit, I-”

Dean was silenced by the cold tip of a sword under his chin. George was grinning like there wasn’t even a bloody cut on his jaw, his dominance with a blade evident for all to see. “Checkmate.”

Dean slowly smiled. “Do I get a second chance?”

George held out his hand and pulled Dean to his feet. “As long as you don’t try to kill me again.” He took his stance again, wiping the blood from his jaw. Dean grinned.

“Deal.”

---

I hope you enjoyed my shitty attempt at swordfighting! Love you all!

#George Mackay #Dean-Charles Chapman #royal!dean x knight!george au

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prorevenge · 6 years ago

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Discourage & humiliate your students? We’ll get you fired from your alma mater.

I’m going to preface my long-winded story with a PSA: don’t study music in college. If you’re truly passionate about it there’s plenty of cheaper, less stressful ways to pursue your dreams. Hell most majorly-successful artists now didn’t go to college or dropped out. Anyway, my revenge story:

I was inspired by FatAngryOrc’s Post about his student teacher in high school. I was taking a Piano course to fulfill an elective for my major & because I needed something easier amidst my course load. I’d studied private piano for 12 years prior to college & this particular course was geared towards music majors who played other instruments and weren’t familiar with a piano (strings, brass, winds, etc). Our professor was a jazz pianist who let everyone call him Tony. Tony was AWESOME and super chill & patient about everything. This class was going to be an easy A for me, no problem.

1/3rd of the way into the semester, Tony announces he won’t be able to continue teaching the course. I forget the details - something about his role with the music conservatory, blah blah blah. A new professor would be coming in to take over. We were sad because we knew we had lucked out with Tony, but we didn’t think it could get too too bad. Tony’s replacement ends up being a graduated music ed student of the conservatory whose primary instrument was I think classical trombone or something. She was much younger and I think this was her first real teaching job at the university level. I was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt.

One thing we did in this class was collab with other students on our respective keyboards (full 88-key keyboards with headphones so it wasn’t a cacophony of noise) to play duets for the class. My partner was also an experienced pianist & once we’d played through the piece once we’d start dicking around & changing it up a bit: changed the instrument on the keyboards to a plucked bass & a muted trumpet, swing & syncopate the rhythm instead of playing it straight, y’know, musician stuff. We decided we’d present to the class that way. We went last after all the other duos struggled through their performances (which is understandable, because again they’re not pianists) because we knew we’d get a laugh. And we did, and we even got applause. After each performance the prof would give us some praise & critique for us in front of the whole group, standard musician stuff.

Well, new professor did NOT appreciate what we did to the piece. She was disappointed that we didn’t play it how it was written on the page and, I fucking quote, “did not want us to get creative with it”. Not only was I embarrassed for being yelled at in front of my peers, I was fucking LIVID. My partner & I had perfectly demonstrated our ability to perform the piece flawlessly and we went the extra step to show how the piece could be interpreted, a shitty 16-bar whatever that had PERFECT potential for syncopation & jazz interpretation. At no point in the assignment did she indicate we weren’t allowed to “get creative”, something I generally expected was, well, EXPECTED of music majors. What would music be now if men like Bach, Mozart, and Beethoven didn’t get creative?

Okay I know, this was just one little in-class assignment, I’m overreacting. But as the semester went on, she was ALWAYS like this - discouraged interpretation, humiliated students if they were struggling, overall brought a negative cloud of energy that killed whatever joy Tony had previously brought to the course. Speaking to her one on one was useless as well because she always managed to turn the blame back on us or refused to give extensions if we were bogged down with other assignments. I spoke to my classmates and it turns out we all hated her. It was a small conservatory that excelled in teacher-student relationships and we weren’t going to let this fly.

At this conservatory, professors were required to do student evaluations each semester. We were required to write them out day-of in class and the professors in question weren’t allowed to look at them. I’d never really had much to say on them, but after speaking to my advisor (who had also recently been promoted to Dean of the conservatory!), he said it was very important that we express all of our concerns in these evaluations so when it came time to review, he and his peers would decide if this new professor issue needed to be addressed.

I passed this along to the rest of the class, and boy did we come in clutch. I’ve never written front & back on an evaluation before but lordy did I have more than enough to say. In fact, everyone in the class was writing front & back. The professor even made a comment in a super nervous voice about how “everyone seems to have a lot to say” to the dead silent room of furious music students. Someone had even TYPED OUT their evaluation the night before & submitted it. That is how frustrated we were.

Two days later, last class of the semester, our professor starts by letting us know she won’t be returning for the following semester. She gave this little speech about how she’s sad she failed us as a teacher & wished we had come to her about our problems (which we had, numerous times). I was trying my damndest to look guilty & not laugh but was failing miserably. I looked around the room and we all were trying not to lose it. We had really done it - we actually managed to get her fired.

Tony returned the following semester to teach the next portion of the course.

(source) (story by chelsmels)

#prorevenge #by chelsmels #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #revenge story #last10

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wandering-----wonderings · 5 years ago

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Ok, this scene bothers me slightly, because it's like when the wrote it they didn't really care to double check themselves on it. We never see any pre-Sydney on the show except for when she was a kid and a quick bit of her recruitment during Q&A (1x17); all, to my recollection, silent scenes. In this episode (All The Time In The World; 5X17), they're going back (with non-silent scenes) and showing some of Sydney's life before SD-6.

In this particular scene ... well, let me break it down.

- Put on your dancing shoes. We are going out tonight. - I can't tonight. - "Can't" is not an option. Charlie got us passes for that new club in Silver Lake. - That job fair's tonight. I want to go. - Job fair? Syd! You've four years to figure out what kind of job you want. - My advisor yelled at me 'cause I still haven't picked a major. - Education. Done. Be a teacher like your mom. You always talk about how happy she was. - I thought about that. But I think of teaching as my safety net. - Teaching's no safety net. You know how dangerous it is to be a teacher? Kids bring knives to school these days. - I hate that I could make a decision now that would affect the rest of my life. - Well, I say go with education. Oh, Charlie is bringing a friend tonight - Danny something. We'll pick you up at eight. - I'll see you later. - Sydney Bristow? I was hoping I might have a moment of your time.

First, we have the location. That ''new club in Silver Lake'' is supposed to be ''a new coffee shop that has live jazz in the afternoons'' in ''Westwood''. The time, then, is also off: it should be ''afternoon'' instead of ''tonight''.

Second, Sydney doesn't go to a job fair. Earlier, before this scene in the book (Recruited), she's perusing the paper for a job - doesn't find one. Francie gets her on at the restaurant she works at, Les Amis Cafe. The end of her waitressing days also happened before this scene. The excuse for not going with Francie and Baxter is that she's swamped with homework - which, isn't untrue.

Thirdly, ''I still haven't picked a major'' is wrong, too. In the book, it reads: ''Only one thing was wrong with her mental picture. It wasn't happening for her. Not good for an education major.'' Francie also says to Sydney, ''So you're serious about this master teacher plan, huh?'' So, yeah, I'd say Sydney's planned on the teacher thing for a while.

Fourth, and my main problem with this, is that Charlie and Danny are never mentioned in the books. Francie is dating a guy named Baxter and (earlier in the book) she encourages Sydney to ask out her crush (Dean Carothers) to a party - it doesn't go well. No Charlie, no Danny. Now, this could all be solved by saying that not everyone read the books and the writers wanted to use characters that people would remember from season 1. Ok ... but, we knew about Noah Hicks (Sydney's first real boyfriend) in season 1. So, what, she met Danny and was just friends with him, got recruited, had a relationship with Noah, and then after Noah left she went to Danny? The problem with that is, again, Danny was never mentioned in the books. Too, I'm sure just using the names in the books cost money; which may be why they chose not to use Danny or Charlie - or Will or Marshall for that matter. (They have a Graham Flinkman and it's my personal belief that he is Marshall's older brother; that Graham either retired out - or worse - and then SD-6 recruited his just-as-brilliant younger brother to replace him. That seems like something right up Sloane's alley, anyway.)

My point is, the season 5 scene happened after the books were written and it was an exact scene; the same scene portrayed in two different ways. If they were going to shoot a scene for the show that they'd already written in the books, why weren't they consistent?

Unless they wanted someone to notice. I vaguely remember reading something about The Box part 1&2 (1x12-13 - the one with Quentin Tarantino in it) that they made mistakes in the episode on purpose to see if anyone could find them. As much as I re-watched the series, I could point out a lot of them; now, the only one I remember right off is in one scene, the woman has zip-ties on her belt, the camera focuses on someone else and when it comes back to her she no longer has the zip-ties.

I'm being picky aren't I? Oh, well, I've already started - might as well do the other memories.

Now this 'memory' I don't have a problem with - because it's a deleted scene. First, yes, Sydney did have to take a lot of tests and, yes, she did better than anyone. She was a little out of character, though. What's wrong with it is that Sydney doesn't meet Dixon until Noah Hicks introduces her to him (very briefly) in the third book (Disappeared). So all the tests she took, she took them before she met Dixon. She did bump into him on the way to Sloane's office in the first book (Recruited), which was actually shown in 1x17 (Q&A), but we don't really know it's him because no name was used, just a description. ''...bumping shoulders with a tall, dignified-looking black man.'' Again, it's a deleted scene, so maybe the reason it got cut was that they realized it didn't work with what they already had out there. Which begs the question: why didn't they do that with the Francie and Sydney scene?

Speaking of the 1x17 scene, she did start out at a desk job on the twentieth-floor. A difference is that the book says she had to sign ''about two dozen nondisclosure agreements'' and the episode has that number at ''about five-hundred'' - big difference if you ask me, but she might have had to sign more over time that totaled to ''about five-hundred''. Another thing, is that Wilson (her handler and recruiter into SD-6) didn't take Sydney from the hallway to Sloane's office; she was in Wilson's office and he took her to Sloane's office from there, and that was when the shoulder bump happened with Dixon. The hallway scene is actually more reminiscent of when Wilson took Sydney (to his office) to meet Pilar and Yoav, her weapons and hand-to-hand combat instructors, respectively. Other than that, it was pretty accurate.

This could have happened, plain and simple. There's nothing (to my current knowledge) that says whether or not it did or didn't.

In the book it says Jack was in car with Laura/Irena, and in the scene ... well, it doesn't say he wasn't, he was just telling Sydney her mom died. So, yes, this could have happened and it fits both the book and show, but wasn't this something that they actually varied with on the show? Like, it was a bridge then it was a road, he was in the car then he wasn't. That part I can't remember.

Also could have happened. It doesn't go against the other scene they had of her putting the puzzle together when she was under hypnosis. What's intriguing is how Jack is acting. He's a little colder in the hypnosis scene than he is in this scene, but that actually fits with his relationship with Sydney becoming as strained as it was. In the memory when Sydney first learned of the puzzle, and at her birthday party (which may or may not be an entirely accurate memory), Jack was warm and kind to her, and by the time Sydney has gone through the project and is able to build a gun he's starting to become cold and detached. Project Christmas itself is most likely the reason why. After all, taking your young child to Build-a-Gun workshop and then erasing her memory is bound to have an effect on anyone.

Now, this memory could have happened because there's no mention of her telling him she works in a bank in the books; so she must have told him at some point because he seemed to already know when he (finally) made a book appearance. ''She had barely even heard from her father since she'd started college.'' Although, we don't get to read how there first dinner went (in Father Figure) since it has her meeting him right as the chapter ends. After that he's trying to get her to focus on school - like he did in the episode but he was trying to be more stealthy in the book. Granted, everything that happened between them in the book would have been too long to show, so this memory kinda sums it all up. However, there is the small issue of where the scene happened. In the memory, it shows Sydney coming through the door and saying ''Dad? Are you home?'' The books, on the other hand, say ''His home base was still L.A., but he didn't even keep an apartment anymore, choosing instead to live in hotels on the rare occasion he was actually in town.'' Now, we don't see the outside of where 'home' is, so it could be a hotel. Although, with as much as he travels and how little she sees/hears from him, I doubt she'd have a key to get in - and what kind of spy leaves the door unlocked. Also, it doesn't really look like a hotel from the inside, and I don't recall ever having been in a hotel room that had a hallway in it; not to say that they don't, but if Jack just got a room for himself then I'm imagining him going for something basic. So books say hotel, memory indicates a house.

Could have happened. It didn't happen in the books, but doesn't mean it didn't happen.

Ok, I'm done now. I know I'm being too picky. I just love this series so much. They were the first ''adult books'' that I read and I guess it kinda just stuck with me. Which, technically, they're classified as ''teen fiction'', but there was crushing and kissing and kick butt-age and, of course, spy-drama, so at the time I was reading them they felt very adult.

#Alias #All The Time In The World #5x17

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coffee-obsessed-writer · 6 years ago

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The Pact - Chapter 2

Sam Winchester, Gothic AU

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

A/N: This idea was a long time coming. My first true AU, so please be gentle. This will be a slow burn, multi-chapter fic. A HUGE thank you to one of my besties @kazosa for continuing to remind me of this idea we had been planning for a long time now and for suggesting I finally start it. Hope you enjoy!!

Summary: Lord Samuel Winchester has lost the love of his life due to the actions of the Demon King, Crowley. As he plots secret revenge, his father, the King of Lawrence, decrees that Sam will wed Crowley’s daughter in order to unite the two families to protect the sacred ground the Winchester’s Kingdom is built upon.

Eventual Pairing: Sam Winchester x Crowley’s Daughter!Reader

Other Players: John Winchester, Crowley, Rowena, Dean Winchester (mentioned), Bobby Singer, Jessica Moore (deceased)

Warnings: mild language

Words: 6.3K

Everything Tags:

@sorenmarie87 // @lefthologramdeer // @rockyhorrorpictureshowstyle // @his-paradox // @letsby

Supernatural Tags:

@wings-of-a-raven // @kazosa // @negans-wife // @grace-for-sale // @geeksareunique // @tiquismiquis // @mrsbarnes-rogers // @teller258316 // @spnhollis // @sweet-things-4-life // @hobby27 // @sweetlythoughtfulbird // @theoriginalvicki // @dreamchester67 // @xxwarhawk // @babykalika2001 // @superwhovianfangirl81 // @toobusynerdfighting // @missihart23 // @crowleysreigningqueenofhell // @idreamofplaid // @thewinchesterchronicles // @wayward-gypsy // @closetspngirl // @fatestemptress // @rebelminxy // @22sarah08 // @witch-of-letters // @cole-winchester // @rainflowermoon // @adoptdontshoppets // @foreverwayward // @waywardvalkyrie // @fandomoniumflurry // @gnrfanfic // @blackcherrywhiskey // @jessieray98 // @lyoly // @a--1--1--3 // @31shadesofbrown // @whereismyangel-damnitdeanshare

(I don’t normally tag series, but since this is an AU, I will tag specifically for this one if you don’t want to be on my SPN list. Let me know if you want to hop on any of my tag lists.)

The Pact Tags: @theplaid-wearingmoose // @zombiewerewolfqueen // @silkiechicken // @collette04

The morning of the ceremony, Sam made his way through the maze of tunnels that lead to Singer’s Apothecary. At the end of the corridor stood the oversized wooden monstrosity that led to the lair’s entrance. Using the key given to him by Singer, he made quick work of the lock and let himself in.

Passing through the frigid stoned clad archway, Sam sighed with relief when he came through the other side and felt the warm breath of heat from the fire that was always burning beneath the cauldron. The invisible barrier kept unwanted and unworthy souls out, but the cost of walking through it left a chill in Sam’s spine for days after. Bobby said it worked better than the warding that was used along the Kingdom’s borders. “It’s just a smart play,” he’d said when Sam questioned why he’d set the barrier in the first place, “considering most of the stuff in here could wipe out all of Lawrence in one fell swoop.”

Bobby had always been a friend to Sam, even when John warned him against it. Robert Singer, Maester of the Winchester House, came from a long line of men who both understood battle and books. He was well versed in spell work, warding, potions and history of creatures, both common and mysterious. He acted as a counselor to John when the King wasn’t sure how to attack a certain enemy; he’d turn to Bobby, his trusted friend, and most sought-after advisor. Even when they didn’t agree, John would at least hear him out. So, Sam knew that if he needed a way to influence his father, Bobby would be the place to start.

Sam stepped into the room and let his eyes wander slowly around. The floor-to-ceiling walls of books loomed high above him. Dual spiral staircases rose up towards the cathedral ceilings, to a narrow metal catwalk that stretched out along the perimeter. Vines and greeneries were hanging or draped from the rails, some of them blooming with an array of speckled flowers.

No sign of the old man.

“Bobby?” Sam called out and took a few steps closer to the fireplace. No response. Sam waited for another beat, then called out for him again. “Bobby, you here?”

“Down here, boy!”

Sam followed the direction of Bobby’s voice through one of the heavy black draperies that separated the rooms and down into the root cellar where he was stocking jars of lamb’s blood.

Taking his time on the stairs, he ducked down into the small space. “How do you work down here,” he asked, finally just taking a seat on the cold stones.

“Well, I ain’t ten feet tall like some people,” he snorted and placed the last jar. “What can I do for you, Sam?”

“Tonight… you’re going?”

Bobby nodded then started shaking his head. “What the hell is your father thinking?” he mumbled, knowing that Sam wouldn’t fight him on it. “If you’re here to ask me to muck it up somehow…” Bobby inhaled sharply and passed Sam an admonishing look, “it’s not a good idea, son.”

“No, that’s not why I’m here. I’m resigned to it, Bobby. I am marrying her, and that’s it.”

Bobby gave him a challenging look. “And I’m supposed to just believe that?”

“It’s the truth,” Sam shrugged. “I’m tired of fighting him on everything. If it makes him happy and helps the family and the Kingdom…” Sam trailed off and gave Bobby, his most sincere smile as he repeated the mantra he and Dean had been programmed to live by. “For the Protection of Lands and Family. Saving people and killing things, the family business. Right?”

“Mhm,” Bobby mumbled and offered Sam a hand to stand up. “Come on, you can help me sort the herbs upstairs while you tell me what it is you can here for.”

Once they were back in the Apothecary’s main quarters, Sam took a seat at Bobby’s workbench and began to separate the lavender from the meadowsweet. Bobby worked on the greeneries and kept passing curious glances at Sam from the corner of his eye.

“Well, spill it, boy. You don’t just come and do grunt work with me for shits and giggles. You got somethin’ on your mind. So, speak.”

Sam snorted, the corner of his mouth turned up. “I never mind grunt worth, if I’m in here with you. But you’re right. I do need something. I want to find the Oracle. I know she’s been in town. Last I was down in the taverns, one of the men there talked of visiting her. I want to see her, Bobby.”

“To what end?” he asked, not taking his eyes from his work.

“I want to know how this all plays out. The marriage, the partnership. This tentative peace that lives between us and Crowley.”

It was Bobby’s turn to scoff. “If you think its that easy, you got another thing comin’.”

“What do you mean? She’s an oracle, isn’t she? She can see the future. Isn’t that what oracles, do?”

“Yeah, in theory. Doesn’t mean she can read your future.”

“Why not?” Sam asked, mildly incensed. “What’s wrong with my future?”

“I didn’t mean it like that, ya jackass. I just meant that, you're enchanted. You have been since you were a boy. Why do you think you just broke that hip instead of being killed?”

Sam sat up straighter at the mention of his accident. He hated talking about it… thinking about it. The way the sword pierced him through the back causing him to fall. The horse running across the battlefield, crushing his hip and shattering it to pieces. He was lucky to be alive, much less be able to walk at all.

Dean had carried him all the way to Singer’s Apothecary from the field where he assumed his brother had died. He appeared lifeless, his skin cool to the touch, his heartbeat so faint, it might as well have been non-existent. Dean demanded Bobby fix him… save him. But the old Maester said it was too late, the boy had died from the stab wound.

Minutes later, Sam gasped for air and immediately wailed in pain. The crushed bones in his hip causing a streak of discomfort like he never had before. The burning hot wound from the knife closing completely on its own. The youngest Winchester Prince sat up, eyeing his brother, fear rampant in his eyes.

“Dean… how?”

“I don’t know,” he said as he threw his arms around his brother’s neck, his hands balling into fists and beating against his back in triumph. “I thought we lost you, Sammy.”

Bobby’s voice snapped Sam back to the present, back to the favor.

“Did you hear me?”

“No, I drifted.”

“Hmm. I said the Oracle won’t be able to read you, ya idjit. Whatever your mother cast over you as a baby, it's impenetrable. No spells, potions or lore I’ve ever read can break what she did.”

Sam sighed. “I at least want to try.”

“It's your gold, son. I’ll take you to her, but there’s no time—”

“Make time, Bobby. I need to do this before the ceremony tonight.”

Bobby eyed him with frustration. “You and your father… so damn demanding,” he mumbled and pulled his cloak down from its hook. “Get your stuff, let’s go before your father realizes your gone.”

The Oracle’s hovel was well off the beaten path that led from the Kingdom of Lawrence and into the dense forest that sat between the city and the portal entrance to the battlefields of Purgatory. She lived simply, but she accepted only gold as payment. Samuel’s coffer was full to the brim with as much gold as he could shove in there, unsure of what it would take to get her to read him truly. He didn’t really believe Bobby’s claim and needed to see for himself.

Bobby pulled the reigns of his horse, asking the beast to stop by the walkway that led to her small cabin that was built into the side of the hill. The ornate wagon Sam drove with his two best steeds came to a stop behind Bobby’s mare.

“Come on,” Bobby urged, looking up into the sky. “Day’s light is fading and its at least an hour ride back. If we’re late…”

“We won’t be. We’ll be there.”

They approached the door, and as Bobby raised his fist to knock, it opened before he could. A woman with long, dark hair stood in the entry, her eyes were as white as snow and the smile she wore was as bright as the sun.

“Robert… my old friend,” she beamed and moved to hug him without hesitation. Sam watched them with a small, satisfied smile. It was odd for him to see Bobby in anyone’s company or affections, except John’s.

“Pamela,” Bobby nearly sang. “Lovely as ever. I brought—”

“The Prince, yes, I know,” she released Bobby’s greeting and turned her haunting eyes towards Sam.

“Samuel Winchester, the enchanted boy prince. I was wondering when you would come to see me.”

Sam’s expression faltered as he looked between her and Bobby. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be able to read me at all,” he said, leaving out Bobby’s role in the seed of doubt.

“Let’s see what we see, shall we?” she urged with the same, bright grin. “Come,” she took his hand and led him inside towards the center of the room. She motioned towards the round wooden table, covered in a plum-colored velvet cloth. “Come sit at the table and let’s see what the spirits have to offer for you, Samuel.”

On the cloth was a gold leaf triad knot, at each point was a high back wooden chair for them to take place in. Their hands clasped together around the table, eyes closed, breath steady. Pamela mumbled a variety of words in the old Enochian. Some Sam could recall from his old lessons, others sounded foreign to his ears. As she pressed on, the air in the room became cold and heavy at the same time. It made Sam feel as if there was something in there looming over them.

There was a lengthy pause, and just as Sam begun to wonder if it was going to work at all, Pamela began to speak.

“You’re in deep despair,” she whispered, her ghostly eyes wide and raised up to the ceiling. “You mourn her, still. Though her spirit has crossed the veil, you cannot let her go. Need for vengeance drives you to make rash choices. But… they are meant to be made.”

The table began to vibrate, and a breeze cascaded through the room, causing the candles to flicker chaotically. Pamela continued with more Enochian as if she was holding a conversation with the unseen visitor, and then translating it to you.

“You hold jealousy in your heart. Wishing to trade places with your brother. To be gone, in battle. You must realize though, that isn’t your place. Your place is here. With her.”

“Her?” Sam rasped in question. “Her, who?”

“The twin to your soul. The one who holds your future. She’s yet to show herself, but behind the feathers, the dark, iridescent feathers, lies the match to your unburnt flame. She’ll be of great comfort to you when your grief folds you over and renders you useless.”

“That makes no sense to me,” he muttered in reply, looking to Bobby who sat and watched quietly, giving him no type of reaction at all.

“There’s something dark, something laying in wait for… you, your family. A cloud, as black as a reaper’s suit. It waits. When you recognize it, don’t hesitate. Act and you’ll be protected, no matter what you think may happen.”

The Oracle made no sense. Sam couldn’t imagine anything she was saying to apply to him. There were no other women in the world for him. Ever. Regardless of the arrangement of his marriage. That woman wouldn’t be long for this world, that he could be sure of. Whatever darkness she spoke of, everyone knew of the past feud with Crowley, even the traveling Oracle must have heard the tales, so she could easily feed him a warning and apply it to Crowley.

As for Crowley’s daughter, she would be a sacrifice. An eye for an eye. The Oracle never saw that, nor any of his other plans he was hopeful she would have touched on. He was beginning to think that Bobby had been right all along and that Pamela was just saying anything to make him feel fulfilled with going to see her.

Pamela’s hands started to shake and as she quickly spoke in Enochian the entire atmosphere of the room changed, the heaviness was gone, and the warmth reclaimed the small space. She released both of their hands, then brought her nonexistent gaze back to Sam’s face.

“That was it?” he asked suspiciously, “Nothing else at all?”

Pamela just shook her head. “I know you don’t understand your message, yet. But I promise you, dear boy, you will.”

He considered straight out asking about the marriage, and if his plans for Crowley’s daughter would elicit the outcome he wanted, but he stopped himself. Revealing his plans to Bobby would just be stupid. The old Maester would surely try and stop him. Besides, he wanted the truth from the oracle. If he outright asked her, she could just give him the answer she thought he wanted.

Instead, Sam smiled and took her hand in both of his. “I sure hope so, madame. Here, a gift for your time.”

He reached into his coat pocket and placed the coffer of coins into her palm. When the weight of the bag sat heavy in her hand, she gasped slightly in surprise. “No, this is far too much, Lord Samuel. I know you aren’t pleased with what came through, and even if you were, this is just taking advantage.”

“No, take it,” he said and closed her fingers around the bag. “Use it to spread good cheer or help a neighbor if you can’t use it yourself. I just appreciate your time.”

“Well, thank you, M’Lord. I will put these coins to good use. Next time though, its’ on me. No matter what you think now, I have a feeling you’ll be back.” She smirked knowingly and gave him a lingering wink.

After a brief goodbye, Sam and Bobby were back on the road towards Lawrence. They rode in silence for a while until Bobby couldn’t take the quiet any longer.

“Well, feel better?”

“No,” Sam said, “I think maybe, you were right. She couldn’t read me.”

“Then what she was saying, you don’t believe her?”

“No,” he said again, “None of what she said rang true, nor did it feel genuine. I’m not calling her out as a fraud. But…” he trailed off and shrugged, causing Bobby’s expression to fall and replace it with disgust.

“Boy, don’t. That woman is the real deal. No tricks. No hoodoo. She’s a seer, through and through. If she couldn’t read you, or if what she read was false, its simply because of—”

“Whatever mother did.”

“Yes. So, can we move on now, please? Get back, get you cleaned up and get you married before your father realizes you’re not there?”

Sam nodded without saying anything more, clicked his tongue with the reigns to speed the horses up and get home to meet his new bride.

It was the first time ever in your memory that you had been allowed to leave Crowley’s compound and the castle walls that had encased you for nearly your entire life. This day, you could pack your most favorite belongings and leave the grounds for good. You would never have to spend another night locked away in some old, musty turret, dreaming of escape. Though marrying a Winchester was not something you were happy about it, if it meant earning a one-way ticket out, you would promise to be his wife.

The caravan that was carrying you to your new life was moving slowly towards the other end of the realm where the Winchester Castle stood in all its ornate glory. Never having seen it with your own eyes, or any of the realms, really, you had to rely on the stories and descriptions from others. Even the man you were intended to marry, Samuel, you knew nothing about him except what you heard in whispers among Crowley’s people.

To your side, Rowena had her nose buried deep in an oversized book that was nearly as old as she was. Crowley refused to accompany you to the Winchester’s castle, instead of sending Rowena in his place. She complained, of course, but in the end, she relented and went willingly.

You watched her read the book and wondered if she knew the man you’d been betrothed too. Had she been to the Winchester castle? Had she ever met the King? So many questions ran through your mind as to what Rowena could answer for you now that you were out of Crowley’s reach.

“Rowena, do you know him?”

“Who’s that, dear?” she asked, not taking her eyes from the page.

“Samuel.”

“Aye,” she replied, drawing out the word slowly.

Rowena felt your eyes on her but did her best to concentrate on the book in her hand. It wasn’t just any book, and it had been her prize for escorting you to your new home and staying with you until the ceremony was done. She hoped you wouldn’t be peppering her with questions, but once you started, it was hard to stop.

“What’s he like? Is he deformed like some say? Hobbled?”

She sighed deeply and closed the Book of the Damned. “Well, yes, but not as bad as some would like to say.”

“What do you mean?”

“From what I understand, he was wounded in the early days of the war in Purgatory. Some said that his brother carried his lifeless body all the way home from the battlegrounds. Yet, when they got there, the young prince had found life again. It’s not impossible I suppose, I’ve certainly seen my share of men rise from the dead. Either that or the brother is a nit wit and can’t find a heartbeat properly,” she rolled her eyes and waved him off. “He healed, but he walks with a cane and couldn’t return to battle.”

You just grunted in understanding. “Is he kind or is he more like father? Purposely withholding and cruel, and unable to love anything.”

“Your father loves you, dear. He’s just… preoccupied. As for Samuel, I’ve only ever met him once, and from what I could see, I don’ think you’ll have much trouble with him.”

Casting your eyes out of the carriage window, you watched the countryside pass by as the horses slowly made their way towards the Lawrence River. It was the first time you could recall seeing it up close. The sound of the rushing water was soothing to your ears and for the first time, you wondered if you would miss the sound of the waves against the cliffs that would echo through your chambers throughout the night.

So many nights it had helped lull you to sleep, especially when thoughts of things that plagued you invaded your dreams. That led to another question popping in your head. Something you had wanted to ask Rowena for years, but for fear of suffering Crowley’s wraith, you abstained. But now, his influence was far away, and there was no one to stop you from asking.

“Will you tell me about my mother? Now that we’re gone from his walls? He never tells me anything about her.”

Rowena glanced at you, her eyes filled with warning. “You’re just full of questions, aren’t you, poppet? That is not a place you want to go to. Let that sleeping dog lie.”

“But why? She’s my mother, why can’t I know about her? He tells me that I’m so much like them both, but I see nothing of myself in him. He’s cruel, and power hungry. All he cares about are his demons and his Kingdom. Being ‘the Red King’ has gone to his head, made him even more foul and loathsome than before.”

“Easy, child. He may be a right and proper cunt, but he’s still my son. An I won’ have ya speaking of him that way. Fergus is who he is, partially because I was an awful mum to him. Yet, look at what he’s built. If you don’ think that the Winchesters feel the say way about their father, you’re sadly mistaken. No child loves their parent truly, not if that child wants to grow up with power and purpose.”

“I’m not a child,” you mumbled and closed your eyes in disgust at what you heard pour from her lips. Deciding that was enough questions, you turned back to watch the scenery pass by. Rowena opened her book again, thinking the conversation was done, but the way your conversation ended sat heavily on her mind.

“Then stop acting like one,” she retorted and took her hand into hers. “You have every right to ask about your mother. But, its just not something that needs to be discussed now. Know that she loved you and she didn’ want to leave, but she had to. One day, I’ll tell you more, but for now, you just remember that she loved you and only wanted the best things for you.”

You exhaled deeply and when you looked back out of the window again, you could see the tall peaks and turrets of the castle in the distance. The closer you got, the more of the slate gray stones of the towers could be seen coming up through the dense forest that surrounded it. It was exciting and yet, terrifying, to think of being anywhere but your father’s compound. Up until this point, it almost felt surreal. Yet, here you were staring down the place that would become your new home. IF the Winchesters were true to their word and let you live, that is.

There was still some doubt as to the validity of Crowley’s claim to your safety and it had weighed heavily on your mind for the past two days. The deal itself felt sudden and strange, and you couldn’t help but feel like there was something more to it. An undercurrent of treachery so great, that it had the potential to cause irreparable damage to many lives. The Winchesters, after all, were your father’s greatest enemy for many years and the only ones who had ever proved to be so troublesome.

You weren’t going to leave the compound for the Winchester’s and not be prepared to defend yourself. Yet, straight up slaughtering your husband-to-be would most certainly lead to your death as well. There had to be a better plan…

The night before leaving home, you snuck down into the chambers Rowena kept for her visits. There, you paged through the stacks of books until you found the spell you wanted; a simple love spell. “Better safe than sorry,” you had told yourself as you waited for the clear liquid to cool. Once it did, it flashed a bright, blood red and then faded back to its transparent state. Two drops of that in Lord Winchester’s drink would guarantee him to fall head over heels in love with you.

“And unable to slice your throat from ear to ear,” you mused silently, as the castle continued to grow as the carriage closed the distance. It was self-defense if needed, or even an escape plan once you were sure no one was watching. Either way, the potion was hidden away between the swell of your breasts, ready to be used in an instant if need be.

The stone cobbled guard tower came into view, surrounded by at least four of the Winchester Guard. Your heart began to pound just as Rowena gave your hand a squeeze.

“Here we go girly, keep your wits and remember where you come from,” she said then plastered on her best fake, yet charming smile.

Once the carriage was granted passage, you and Rowena were escorted towards the castle’s entrance. When the carriage door opened, one of the Winchester Guards was there to help you carefully down and bowed slightly once your feet were firmly on the gravel.

Looking around, you were already in awe of your surroundings. The stark contrast of where you had lived to this new place was almost shocking. In place of the putrid and dank forest that caged Crowley’s compound, there were trees and greeneries that were dotted with an abundance of colorful, fragrant flowers. The breeze smelled of orchids and fruit instead of sulfur and death. The sun was bright and warm, and the clouds floated by like wispy remnants of cotton candy, instead of the thunderous threatening ones that plagued the sky and loomed over the MacLeod homestead.

This place was alive with beauty and hope, and suddenly you could see why Crowley wanted it so desperately. You’d only been there for a handful of minutes and you already never wanted to leave.

“Come, (Y/N), they want to escort you to your chambers,” Rowena beckoned. When you didn’t immediately comply, she grabbed your hand and yanked you forward. “Will you please act like you’ve been around people before?” she chastised under her breath.

Giving her a dangerous scowl, she recoiled sharply but not enough for the others to notice.

“Remember who helped you get here, dear,” she mumbled before linking her elbow through yours and moving you up the stairs and into the grand entrance of the Winchester’s Castle.

The guards led you through the winding passageways and up to one of the turret rooms. It was sparse in furniture and décor, but you didn’t care. It was the view from the window that captured your attention. From its height, you could see a remarkable amount of Lawrence, including the river and far off foothills that led straight back to the cliffs you used to call home.

“Never again,” you thought and absently touched your cleavage, thinking of the love potion hidden there.

“His Majesty would like you to remain here until the time of the ceremony. Should you require anything, a chambermaid will be up soon to see to your needs,” the guard proclaimed flatly before bowing his head and taking his leave.

“Alright, let’s get you ready for this,” Rowena said and opened the trunk you’d brought with you. She pulled the dress from it and wrinkled her nose. “This is what you’re wearing?” She held the pale-pink colored frock as if it were garbage out in front of her. “Come now, this is so… not you.”

“Father chose it. Said he wanted me to appear chased and innocent,” you mused, clasping your hands behind your back and slowly walking around it.

“Well, your father isn’t here, is he? No way I will let any grandchild of mine put such a wretched color on her body. Surely, I understand why he wants you to appear that way… no man wants a woman for a wife that isn’t pure, but you are a MacLeod for cryin’ out loud. You should be dressed as one!”

“Take it up with Father,” you replied nonchalantly, secretly loving Rowena’s disgust of the dress he chose and laughing to yourself that Crowley assumed you were so chased. It occurred to you then that maybe he didn’t know all that you had been up to while living under his roof. Just because you had been a virtual prisoner in your father’s home, didn’t mean that you didn’t explore your sexuality and feelings of need over the years.

“He won’t even be here until the damned ceremony, the little twat. Suppose in that time I could find you something more appropriate.” Grabbing her wrap from the end of the small bed, she draped it over herself and cocked the corner of her mouth into a pursed grin. “I’ll be back with something more fitting for you. Until I get back, rest dear, you’re going to need it.”

Once she was gone, you slipped the small vile of the potion from between your breasts and held it up to the light. Would it be enough to save you? Would it even work on the hobbled Lord of the manner? Sighing deeply, you returned it to its hiding place and paced the room before closing the trunk and sitting on top of it. Beside you on the bed, one of Rowena’s bags was half open, and out of it stuck the corner of the Book of the Damned. Knowing she would be gone a while, you dared to peek inside. As you paged through the ancient text, a new idea began to form in your mind and a devilish grin right along with it. The magic that the book contained was far too powerful for you, but there were a few spells that you may be able to manage and would certainly help if you found yourself backed into a corner.

Without hesitation, you jumped up from the trunk and opened it again, rifling through it to find your own parchment and quill. Quickly copying down the spells you thought may come in handy, you felt your spirits rise even more than they had when you first laid eyes on the castle.

The dungeons were dark and dimly lit, but Samuel could find his way there blind if he had too. The echo of his hard heels and cane against the stone floor rattled against the walls as he rounded the corner and entered the small room where the ceremony was to take place.

He’d heard the girl had arrived earlier in the day, while he was off with Bobby at the seer’s hut, but he had no desire to see her. Instead, he quietly retired to his own chambers and spent the rest of the afternoon mulling over the things the seer foretold. Mingled with that, were his plans for (Y/N) MacLeod. He tried to think of her only as Crowley’s daughter, hoping it would make ending her life a bit easier. But it did not. Despite his desperate need to enact vengeance for Jessica, a sliver of doubt had begun to seep into his veins. This girl was innocent, wasn’t she? She couldn’t help being a spawn of that creature, just like he couldn’t help being born a Winchester. It had just been their respective crosses to bear. Should she suffer for her father’s crimes? Could he live with himself to take the life of a woman, even if she was a witch in training, that bore the name of his enemy?

These questions and concerns plagued him for most of the afternoon, and even now as he made his way into the chambers where the ceremony would be held, he couldn’t help but wonder if he was going about this plot of revenge all wrong.

Footsteps from behind caught his attention, as his father appeared from the curve of the staircase.

“Samuel,” he greeted, a satisfied smirk buried on his lips. “Glad to see you here, promptly, and even dressed as the Lord of Winchester Castle should be.” John plucked at one of the pointed corners of Sam’s black coat and brushed the wrinkle from the front of the black silk vest worn beneath it.

“Stop it,” Sam mumbled and turned from John, so he wasn’t within is reach any longer.

“Have you seen her yet?” John asked, unphased by his son’s show of rejection.

“No.”

“I’m surprised. I’d thought you would want to taste the milk before you bought the cow,” John scoffed, clearly proud of his joke at the expense of his future daughter-in-law.

Sam just rolled his eyes and limped about the room, gripping the pommel of his cane and preying it would absorb the growing rage he felt towards his father.

“Nervous, son?”

Turning sharply on his heel, Sam glared daggers at his father. “No. Please stop acting like you care how I feel about this.”

“But I do care. This… this is bigger than you, Sammy—”

“You don’t call me that,” he growled and turned away again.

Shuffling towards the table that held a decanter of wine and goblets, Sam poured himself a cup full and drank it in one gulp, relishing in the sting of it as it cascaded down his throat. He was about to pour another when approaching voices from the corridor stopped him.

Bobby entered, followed by a petite woman in a blood red dress that bore a high lace neck and flowing lace skirt. Her shock of red hair and bright red lipstick almost made her hard to look at, yet there was something quite beautiful about her. Sam wondered for a moment if this was the woman that he was supposed to wed. She looked to be around the same age as his nemesis, but witches… they could mask their true ages now, couldn’t they?

“Rowena MacLeod,” John said, half a smile forced on his face. “Lovely to see you again.” He bowed his head slightly and turned to Sam. “This is Crowley’s mother, Rowena. Rowena, my son, Lord Samuel.”

Sam took her hand gingerly and bowed his torso slightly as he shook it. The movement sent a bolt of pain down from his hip to his feet, but his face would never tell the others how badly he wanted to cry out. In turn, she offered a polite smile and curtsy before stepping back, leaving a great distance between herself and the rest of the Winchesters.

Bobby took his place at the forefront of the chamber where there were two small cast iron containers of wildflowers. Candles flickered around the windowless room. As Maester Singer cleared his throat, John and Samuel took their place on one side of him, as Rowena took the other.

“No Crowley?” Sam asked casually, though inside he was deeply disappointed. He had so badly wanted to look the man who murdered the love of his life in the eye.

“He should be here,” Rowena said, trying not to sound annoyed. “He said he’d arrive—”

“And so I have,” Crowley smirked, appearing in the doorway, red smoke dissipating in the air around him. “You know how I like to make an entrance.”

The room fell awkwardly silent as Crowley sauntered into the room, his hands shoved deeply into the pockets of his black suit pants. His dark eyes pounced from person to person, until they landed on Sam. That’s when he grinned. It was smarmy, a knowing type of grin and Sam resisted every urge to lunge at the man, tearing him limb from limb.

“Samuel,” Crowley cooed, approaching the boy and secretly wishing for him to act on whatever was hiding behind his blazing glare. “I hope you accept my sympathies. This can’t be easy for you. Marrying a woman that wasn’t… what was her name again?”

Sam towered over him silently, but inside, he was seething with rage.

“Enough, Crowley,” John warned, his head ticked to the side with frustration. “Can we just move this along, please? Then you and I have some things to discuss up in my chambers.”

“Right,” Crowley said, turning on his heel. “We most certainly do. Alright, let’s go. Where’s the girl?” he asked Rowena absently as he took his place beside her.

“She’s right outside, I’ll get her.”

Rowena scurried from the room, while the men stood in tense silence for what felt like an eternity. Finally, the echo of two sets of footsteps on the stone grew closer. Sam felt his mouth go dry and his chest tighten at what he was about to do. Marrying her was going to be the hard part. Speaking promises of love, caring and adoration for a woman he never met, who’s family he loathed with every bit of his being, would take every bit of strength he was able to muster up.

There was no music, no standing ovation from a crowd of weepy onlookers as there would have been, had Sam married Jessica as intended. A blanket of silence buried the room as (Y/N) walked in linked on Rowena’s arm. She looked to Crowley to come take his place to escort the bride to Sam, but he pretended not to notice.

Sam drew in a deep breath and finally had the courage to look at the woman approaching him. His heart began to pound the moment his eyes landed on her face. The dryness of his mouth extended to his throat, and he found it hard to swallow as he took her in, head to toe.

Her features didn’t resemble Crowley at all, she was nothing like him in the slightest. (Y/N) was beautiful, but Sam didn’t think that was the right word to describe what he was seeing. She was an ethereal being somehow manifesting in his presence. He felt his chest tighten, his hands grow sweaty and nervous. His tongue darted quickly over his lips, desperately giving them moisture that had seemed to leave his body.

Then, he saw what she was wearing, a black, strapless floor-length gown that was covered in tiny, reflective gems that made her simmer as if she were a dark angel straight from one of his childhood dreams. Quick flashes of lustrous blues and purples radiated from the wrap she wore over her shoulders, catching his eyes. When (Y/N) finally met him at the top of the aisle, he saw that the shawl was made from a flock of feathers… dark, iridescent feathers.

“Lord Samuel Winchester, Lady (Y/N) MacLeod, are you ready to be wed?” Bobby asked, holding his hands out, palms up, waiting for them both to accept. He watched as they both slowly nodded, barely holding the other’s gaze. “Great. Let’s begin, shall we?”

#sam winchester x you #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader insert #sam winchester AU #Sam winchester fanfics #SPN AU Series #SPN AU

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theirprofoundbond · 6 years ago

Text

College AU

Oops, I accidentally wrote some fanfiction.

enby-klaus and I were riffing on this in the DCBB Discord chat yesterday and I ended up developing it, uh, “a little,” because these things happen. Releasing it into the wild now! So here, have this:

At 29, Dean’s enrolled in college. Sam convinced him, helped him through the application process. Said reassuring things every time Dean muttered, “Man, I don’t know about this.”

September 22, 2008: rainy, autumnal, and the first day of the semester.

He pulls Baby into one of the choked student lots, finds a space by some miracle. The car turns a few heads and it gives him a needed little boost. A pretty girl eyes the car and he smiles when her gaze inevitably finds his. She blushes and hurries off, and he realizes she’s like 10 years younger than him. This is gonna be weird.

Whatever. He needs to get to his first class--no way he’s going to be the asshole who walks in late.

Dean turns up the collar on his leather jacket, squinting in the drizzle that’s coming down, and makes his way across campus. He’s never going to admit it but he’s grateful that Sam insisted they visit before the semester started.

Outside the classroom, the hallway is filled with bored-looking and nervous-but-trying-to-look-bored students. Dean tries the door and finds it unlocked, so he strolls into the empty room, flicks on the lights, and decides on a spot right smack in the middle of the auditorium-style seating. He props his feet up on the chair in the row in front of him as the other students trickle in and slowly dot themselves around the room.

Dean is doodling in his notebook when the professor breezes in a few minutes later, a stern-looking guy in a trench coat. He barely glances up at the students, but his eyes catch on Dean and his shoes on the back of the chair. “Put your feet down, please.” He raises his eyes to the rest of the class and looks around. “Welcome to Poetry 101. I’m Professor Castiel Novak. If you’re not enrolled in Poetry 101, you’re in the wrong place.”

Damn. Dean drops his feet and straightens up. This guy’s just like in the movies. A couple of girls in the row behind him whisper and giggle; Dean glances back at them and they’re watching the professor, so Dean looks back at him. Oh, right. Young and handsome, no wonder they’re doing the schoolgirl thing. Even Dean can see how blue his eyes are from here.

Someone who is apparently in the wrong place gathers their things and heads for the door. Professor Novak drops his voice and tells the student quietly, “If you go to Student Services in the lobby they’ll direct you to where you need to be.” Okay, so... not a total asshole, apparently.

Professor Novak turns his attention back to the class and they spend the next hour going over the syllabus, course structure, and semester schedule. There are no icebreakers, where everyone in class introduces themselves and talks about where they’re from and what their hobbies are. Most of what Professor Novak says is delivered in a tone that suggests he’s done this a thousand times and any patience he once had has long since been used up: You’d better pay attention, because you need to know this information but I’m only going to say it once.

Dean doesn’t let this bother him, because at the end of the lecture, after everyone has filed out and Professor Novak is packing up, Dean approaches him and says, “Hey professor...”

Professor Novak doesn’t look up. “What can I do for you?”

Dean smiles, as if he’s sharing a joke with the professor. “I don’t, uh... I don’t really do poetry....” He spreads his hands as if to say, “Do I look like I do poetry?” But Professor Novak hasn’t looked up at him; he’s stuffing leftover copies of the syllabus into his briefcase and Dean sees him blink for a moment too long--he’s heard this many times before. Dean suddenly feels small and awkward. “So, uh... I was just wondering who I need to talk to, to get switched out of this class.”

After an uncomfortable pause the professor asks, “What’s your major?”

“Undecided,” Dean says, mentally finding his feet again. “But probably something related to engineering.”

Professor Novak finally looks at him and regards him for a moment. Whatever he sees, beyond the leather jacket, the jewelry, the worn jeans and scuffed boots--maybe it’s the fact that Dean is obviously only a bit younger than him--it’s apparently enough to make him give a patient, if curt, answer. “Engineering or not, you need to take three English courses to meet the university’s core curriculum requirements. Poetry meets the requirement, and you’ve already attended the first class, so I’d encourage you to stick with it.”

“Yeah, it’s just--”

“I know. You don’t ‘do’ poetry.” Professor Novak raises one eyebrow, unimpressed, and Dean finds himself startled by the way the professor’s eyes pin him. “You're not the first student to tell me that, and you won’t be the last. But if you stay on the course, we’re going to work throughout the semester to dismantle all your preconceived notions about what poetry is and how to approach it.” Professor Novak shrugs into his coat. “If you really want to switch classes, set up an appointment with your advisor. Otherwise, make sure to do the reading for Wednesday. I hope to see you there.” ⁬With that he gives Dean a nod and leaves.

That afternoon, Dean stops by the campus bookstore, and that evening he leafs through the poetry textbook that he picked up out of curiosity. The assigned reading is a bunch of poems unmistakably about sex. He forgets to email his advisor.

On Wednesday, Dean is once again plunked into the classroom’s middle seat, and when Professor Novak enters this room, his eyes once again catch on Dean. This time, they linger, and the faintest smile lifts the corners of his mouth. Dean sees it, doesn’t bother suppressing a grin, and he raises his hand.

The professor nods at him. “What’s your name?”

“Dean Winchester. Can we call you ‘Professor Cas?’”

Professor Novak’s eyes narrow a little as a couple of people laugh. “No.” He turns away from Dean and addresses the rest of the class. “How did you all find the reading?”

Dean speaks up without raising his hand. “Sexy stuff, Professor Cas. Surprising place to start the semester, but I’m glad I didn’t drop the class. I think it’s going to be worth it.” Dean smirks and slouches comfortably in his seat.

This is the moment Castiel realizes he’s got a smartass on his hands.

This is how it goes:

- Dean pulls his shit, every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Cas is apparently unyielding, but gradually, inside he’s like, “He is getting to me, but I cannot let him see it.”

- In one of the first few lectures, two people are whispering in a row behind Dean and he turns halfway around and is like, “Hey, can you guys keep it down, I’m tryna learn, here.”

- And Cas falters, because he wasn't expecting Dean to have respect for his lectures like that.

- As much shit as Dean gives Cas, it’s usually at the start of class (“No tie today, Professor Cas? Casual Friday on a Wednesday, I like it.”) and the end of class (“Hey Professor Cas, will you help me with my math homework? I’ll buy you a beer. These other suckers are underage but I’m legal.”) When Cas is deep into his lectures, Dean is laser-focused on him, riveted and taking notes. He participates in the class discussions earnestly and in all seriousness.

- Poetry. Think of all the chemistry happening as they’re reading and analyzing all this poetry. Chemistry, all over the place. So much romance and love and lust and sex and emotion in poetry. The classical stuff. The modern stuff. Think of Dean getting in touch with that--Cas coaxing that side out of him. Think of Professor Novak's no-nonsense intensity, Dean’s desire to get a grip on this course and be a successful student.

- Dean turns in his first paper, anticipating a good grade, but Cas takes him down a peg because he expects better out of Dean, who’s older and sharper than his other freshman students.

- Imagine Dean going to Cas’ office hours to argue about his grade. And then making a habit out of it, showing up for not-very-good reasons. Or to ask Cas’ thoughts on poems he’s encountered outside of class. Maybe this is where Cas starts to crack a little bit, after all the crap Dean’s given him in the classroom. And Dean sees it and it gives him a little rush.

- Cas ends up grappling with this “I kind of hate you, but we totally have chemistry, but it's not appropriate” thing.

- This goes on beyond the first semester, because Dean decides to take higher-level courses with Cas. And once he’s completed his required courses, he sits in on classes he’s not enrolled in, just to bother/be instructed by Cas. His behavior in those classes is just a little better because he knows Cas could kick him out of the classroom if he gets too out of line.

- At some point Dean has started thinking about Cas in ways he wasn’t expecting to.... At some point they’ve gone from sparking off each other to smoldering. Maybe Dean starts writing his own sexy poetry. Maybe his in-class ribbing turns a little flirty--sucking on the end of a pen as they discuss the homoeroticism in Walt Whitman’s work, smiling when Cas’ eyes stay on him a moment too long and he wavers, mid-lecture.

- Now think of Dean emailing an essay to Cas in his third year, just to get the professor’s opinion... only it contains smut, hidden by turning the text white. Cas accidentally highlights something in the file as he’s reading it.

- Dean comes to see Cas during his office hours, and the air is thick with everything that isn’t being said, hasn’t been said for the past three years. They regard each other on opposite sides of Cas’ desk. Cas knows they’re playing with fire. So as much as he wants to put his hands on Dean, he breaks the silence by saying, “You're no longer my student, so I’m not going to look over any of your work anymore. If you come to my office again, I’m going to refuse to see you.” Cas’ heart is pounding. “You should leave now.” Dean goes, terrified that he’s misread everything and that Cas is disgusted.

- After Dean has closed the door behind him, Cas pulls a piece of paper from his desk, reads it for the hundredth time. It’s an offer letter from another university; he holds onto it like a lifeline, hands shaking. His hands are shaking because he wants to fuck Dean so bad =]

(For extra angst: Have Cas tell Dean he’s accepted another job, but not why!)

(For extra extra angst: Have Dean be all angry but "Fine! Okay then, fine!" and then Cas thinks that maybe Dean wants for him to go away.)

- Cas accepts the offer so he and Dean are no longer at the same institution, and there are no ethical issues with them getting into a relationship. So they find their way back to each other, and they FINALLY get it on, and probably they quote sexy poetry to each other in bed, or recite poetry they’ve written about the other, or something. Yayyyyy!

~THE END~

Visuals:

(I just sloppily Googled some images for my own benefit because I wasn’t expecting this to turn into what it turned into; if I’ve got something here that you captured or giffed, please tell me so I can credit you!)

Dean: