[Closed] Christmas Prompt-a-thon!
Nov. 23rd, 2010 09:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
blue_bells
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bluebraidI've had a lot of fun with so many of you in fandom this year and I'd like to give something back. You don't need to be a 'friend' of mine, or even know me, to ask for a gift. I would love to write for you anyway.
In my own way of saying Merry Christmas, I'm offering to write fic for any of those fandoms you can see on my interests page. I hope I'm up-to-date enough on them all, but there's nothing a bit of wiki+youtube research can't fill in for my gaps in knowledge. ;]
You can use the standard format, but it's not necessary: Fandom, Character(s) or Pairing, Prompt
And for a tip on how my brain will translate your prompts:
-- Chuck; Casey, Sarah, Chuck; Band AU = a rocking celebration of team awesome
-- Chuck; Casey + Sarah + Chuck; Band AU = a rocking, platonic, but plainly affectionate celebration of team awesome
-- Chuck; Casey/Sarah/Chuck; Band AU = a rocking, not-so-platonic-and-potentially-explicit celebration of team awesome
In sum, if there's a '/' in your prompt, it may (and probably will) get handsy and I'm not talking just about high fives.
For my own sanity, and to keep myself moving, I'm going to (try to) cap the gifts at 1,000w since I tend to warble in the range of 800w these days. (Besides, I can always cheat with sequels.)
FILLS:
For
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sagaluthien: Hunter, Guardian, Elf (Supernatural/Lord of the Rings; Dean, Legolas; G)For
ladyknightanka: When there's no one left to pawn (Supernatural; Lucifer/Adam/Michael, Bela; PG)For
starscythe: How this will end (Castle; Ryan/Esposito, Lanie, Beckett; PG)For
zekkass: Say after me (Supernatural; Gabriel + Castiel, Dean; PG)For
synnerxx: This thing you'll never doubt (Supernatural, Lucifer/Michael/Gabriel, PG-13)For
morganoconner: Come with me if you want to live (Supernatural, Dean/Gabriel, PG-13)I bought a reindeer today. He had a red scarf, flopped everywhere and only cost me ten dollars. \o/
Happy Holidays and may the new year bring you joy!
Tags:
- castle,
- castle: javier esposito,
- castle: kate beckett,
- castle: kevin ryan,
- castle: lanie parish,
- castle: ryan/esposito,
- lord of the rings,
- lord of the rings: legolas,
- meme,
- supernatural,
- supernatural: adam milligan,
- supernatural: bela talbot,
- supernatural: castiel,
- supernatural: dean winchester,
- supernatural: dean/gabriel,
- supernatural: gabriel,
- supernatural: lucifer,
- supernatural: lucifer/adam/michael,
- supernatural: lucifer/michael/gabriel,
- supernatural: michael
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Christmas Prompt-a-thon
Date: 2010-11-23 11:39 am (UTC)So I will give you a prompt... most up to you
A cross over between Lord of the rings and Supernatural and there need to be at least one elf in (Legolas maybe)
FILL: Hunter, Guardian, Elf - 1/2 (Dean, Legolas, G)
Date: 2010-11-26 03:43 pm (UTC)He doesn’t sink in the snow when he leans down and offers Dean his hand.
Oberon, Dean thinks because this guy’s face is both sharp and smooth, pale and proud and other, but faerie is his gut’s suggestion.
But this guy’s too lean, too young, and there’s something wrong with the idea of ‘faerie’ although he glows under the full moon. His pale face is younger than Sammy’s, but Dean looks into blue eyes of dead calm and an assurance bred from a long, long life and considers, angel?
He’s dressed like a hunter, with his cheap cap, flannel, denim and leather, but the clothes hang too loose, too old and when he speaks --
“Dean Winchester?”
-- It’s like a call from his oldest dream, soft and deep and the guy’s pulling him out of the ditch with more ease than Dean expects is natural.
“You an angel?” Dean asks, voice still rough from that last shot of bourbon. Or was it whiskey?
It was the shot he didn’t need. That last bullet to his equilibrium that tipped him on the step’s black ice, through the snow and slush and into the bar’s ditch.
Sam’s inside somewhere, but Dean currently wouldn’t put it past his brother to leave the search until morning when the snow would have piled him into a frosty grave.
But now that’s just getting dramatic. Must be the bourbon talking.
The stranger hasn’t let go, but he pulls back when Dean glances at their linked hands.
“I’m a friend.”
The stranger side steps when Dean grunts and manoeuvres his way out of the ditch, sinking to his knees in the snow. It crunches in his boots, cold and wet and pretty soon that’s going to be really uncomfortable.
“Haven’t got many of those these days. If you plan on staying alive, I won’t be offended if you take it back.”
“I’ve lived longer than most should, Dean. Longer than even I anticipated,” the guy says.
Dean finally climbs his way back to the steps, too busy minding his feet to shake off the supporting hand at his shoulder. The guy is strong.
“So, not an angel? Should I be pulling out my gun or can this wait until morning?”
Because Dean could be lucky tonight: he can count on one hand the number of demons who were willing to negotiate in the past, but maybe this guy was one of them.
“You won’t need your gun against me,” The man says and Dean almost forgets himself, relieved.
Dean could really use a night off.
He’d had to struggle through another of those awkward conversations with Sam, this time trying to explain why too many lady friends in too short a time may not have been the best thing for his little brother at the moment.
Dean’s no saint to lead by example and there’s nobody Sam’s trying to impress, but… the old Sam wouldn’t have been so callous with sex. Sam held sex on that pedestal of sweet, heartfelt expression and this new, refined something rolls through it like it’s a walk through the supermarket: necessary, straightforward and uncomplicated.
Sometimes Dean wonders if Sam’s rubbing it in his face.
So, it’s safe to say that Dean’s not feeling his steadiest on his feet.
That fall didn’t do him any favours, Dean already feels tomorrow’s hangover winding in beneath the layer of sick and seedy he’ll have to deal with after cold and wet.
Dean grips the metal rail of the steps hard when he looks back over his shoulder at his good-and-possibly-demonic-Samaritan.
“So, you know my name. What’s yours?”
The man searches Dean’s face like he’s calculating the answer to life, the universe and everything. Dean could have just told him the answer was the sum of twenty and twenty-two. There’s a thin lock of blond-maybe-white hair peeking out at the guy’s ear from beneath his Lakers cap.
“Legolas.”
Dean blinks, mentally stumbling over the syllables.
“Leg-a-wha--?”
Legolas’s expression turns weirdly sympathetic. His hands slide into the pockets of his denim jacket and he glances back at the quiet parking lot behind them. When he turns back to Dean, his expression is almost shy.
“Do you need company tonight, Dean?”
FILL: Hunter, Guardian, Elf - 2/2 (Dean, Legolas, G)
Date: 2010-11-26 03:44 pm (UTC)Dean’s shaking his head, backing up the steps before Legolas even seems to notice the hands Dean’s put up in defense.
“No thanks, dude, it’s nothing personal, but I favour the other team. Maybe if you tried around the corner you’d find someone with thicker pockets –“
Legolas’s eyes narrow in understanding.
“Dean, I have taken many roles in my life – and it has been a long life – but one of your prostitutes is not among them. I’m a guardian. I’ve seen your family and believe me when I say I don’t think you should be alone tonight.”
“So you are an angel?”
“An elf.”
Dean stares and he can’t help it, he glances at the tips of the guy’s ears, but the cap is large enough it pulls down low covering any evidence.
“… An elf? Here?”
In Wisconsin?
Legolas shrugs so slightly, Dean almost doesn’t catch it. Everything is so subtle with this guy.
“Why not? I traverse where I’m needed. Don’t you?”
Well, if Bobby’s reports were the day’s gospel, nothing was staying where it was supposed to these days.
“An elf?” Dean can’t help himself. A life-size elf? He doesn’t believe it yet.
Legolas sighs and pulls his cap off. Short, white-blond hair spills into his eyes, but it’s been cropped at the sides in what might have once been a buzz cut. An elf in the armed services?
But it’s the ears Dean’s interested in and the huh escapes before he can swallow it. Legolas’ ears curve to a soft, but distinct point and there’s no lines of plastic surgery Dean can see. Still, he’s no expert.
“Are you satisfied?” Legolas asks.
“You here to cause trouble for me or my brother?” Dean counters, flailing for the rail when he makes the mistake of gesturing importantly.
The elf’s eyes slide shut as he shakes his head sadly and starts climbing the steps.
“Let me buy you a drink, Dean. I’m going to tell you a story.”
Re: FILL: Hunter, Guardian, Elf - 2/2 (Dean, Legolas, G)
Date: 2010-11-26 05:43 pm (UTC)Would it be all right if I make a link to this from a comming entry in December (as one of my Advent Calendar)?
Re: FILL: Hunter, Guardian, Elf - 2/2 (Dean, Legolas, G)
Date: 2010-11-26 08:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-23 11:52 am (UTC)FILL: How this will end - 1/2 (Ryan/Esposito, PG)
Date: 2010-12-12 12:51 pm (UTC)Esposito’s glass is only a third full when Ryan slides into the barstool beside him.
“So, how are things going with Lanie?” Ryan asks.
Esposito’s calm fractures to a startled frown.
“How do you know about that?”
Ryan smirks and pulls his collar higher with an air of accomplished mystery.
“I have my sources. And I saw you walking in together from lunch the other day – she was smiling like the sun was coming outta your ass.”
Ryan doesn’t understand why Esposito looks sort of… disappointed.
“Oh,” Esposito says, “We’ve been hanging out, but she’s not with me. We’re actually helping each other with some things.”
“Dude, she’s completely in love.”
“Not with me, but she’s got her eye on someone.”
And then it clicks for Ryan.
“You’re her wingman!”
Ryan feels the mood lift when Esposito’s mouth curves in a conspiratorial smirk and he winks at his partner. Ryan laughs, clapping him on the back.
“Nice, bro! She didn’t look torn up about it, so you must be doing something right.”
“She’ll be fine.”
“Dude, you did your job, so why do I get the feeling this isn’t a victory drink?” Ryan looks harder at his friend and wonders if his initial assumption was on the money. “Bro, you in love with Lanie?”
Esposito’s expression twists like he suspects Ryan’s been sniffing the paint of the precinct’s remodelled offices.
“No, man.”
“Okay,” Ryan backs off, but Esposito shoots back the rest of his whiskey and he knows there’s still something Esposito may need to get off his chest. “You want to talk about it?”
Esposito’s staring, slightly unfocused, at the doors of the bar. Ryan follows his gaze as the doors swing shut behind a pair of strangers taking their leave into the night.
The short, empty glass slides across the round table.
“Get me another one?” Esposito asks, voice rough.
Shit, this sounds serious. Ryan takes the glass without hesitation.
“On the rocks?”
Esposito nods without meeting Ryan’s eyes and he’s looking back at those glass doors when Ryan returns with a refill and a drink of his own.
He almost wishes Beckett and Montgomery hadn’t rolled Castle home those five minutes earlier. He has a feeling he might need the back-up, so he got the drink, but he and Esposito were swapping stories and propping each other up before Caste joined their motley crew, so Ryan wasn’t going to flail without his team behind him.
Whatever it was, he could manage it on his own, at least for tonight.
“All right,” Ryan sets Esposito’s drink for him on the coaster, “What’s on your mind, Javi?”
Because this was a conversation between friends, not colleagues.
“How’s it going with Jenny?” Esposito asks him.
That was not the response Ryan had been expecting, but he could understand his friend’s need to lead in with a bit of deflection.
Ryan shrugs, smiling.
“Jenny’s great. We’re driving up next Tuesday to spend Christmas with her family in Minnesota.”
Esposito makes a soft noise of realisation.
“Yeah, I remember you telling me that. Cap’n approved your leave last month.”
“We’re coming back just before new year’s,” Ryan smiles and motions between them, “Hey, if you don’t already have plans, you should join us. It’s just going to be close friends, you know, anyone who’s still in town, just bring a plate of something.”
Esposito’s nodding slowly and Ryan really didn’t think his offer needed that much serious consideration.
“Yeah, I might -- Ma’s also been telling me to come round and it’d be good to see everyone, you know?”
“Of course, man, but if your plans change, the invitation’s still open.”
“Thanks, bro.”
Ryan nods because he thinks if he says ‘sure’ or ‘of course’ one more time it’s going to sound redundant and he doesn’t want Esposito to start feeling awkward.
Although it may be too late for that. Ryan takes a sip of his drink – it’s the same as whatever his partner was drinking and wow, that was strong. He blinks rapidly before Esposito can notice his eyes are watering, but then Esposito just sighs, tight and heavy.
FILL: How this will end - 2/2 (Ryan/Esposito, PG)
Date: 2010-12-12 12:52 pm (UTC)Ryan blinks. He pushes aside the pang of hurt because this is not about him, this is about Javi, but there’ve been so few things they couldn’t share over the years. He wonders, belatedly, if he’s done something to undermine that trust.
“Man… you can tell me anything, you know I won’t judge,” Ryan tries, but Esposito’s quick to shake his head. “I can keep a secret! Javi, you know me!”
“It’s not fair to put this on you, bro,” Esposito’s fingers tighten around his glass and the involuntary frown, then the scowl, is such a tell it makes Ryan’s chest tight.
“Hey,” Ryan pushes his drink aside and leans in, “Hey. You’re no goddamn burden. You’re my partner and right now you’re freaking me out a little.” He lowers his voice when Esposito finally looks him in the eye, conscious of their law enforcement peers that could overhear. “Are you in trouble?”
Esposito barks a laugh, which would make Ryan feel better if he didn’t know Esposito well enough to catch the bitter edge of it.
“No, man. Nobody’s after me.”
Ryan squints at him, frustration building.
“Then what the hell is it?”
Esposito blinks at him, expression wiped clean.
“It’s you.”
Ryan blinks back.
“What?”
Esposito shakes his head.
“It’s you, man. It’s always been you. I just didn’t figure it out until Lanie pulled the shade up from over my eyes.”
Ryan stares at him, brain scrambling to process and translate because it sounded like… no. Ryan must be misunderstanding.
“Sorry, what? What did I do?”
Esposito stares back at him for a moment until his blank expression melts into realisation, then hurt, then into something cold and carefully controlled. It’s fucking heartwrenching to watch and Ryan knows he’s said the wrong thing.
“Javi, wait, I don’t understand –“
Esposito’s already grabbing his coat from the other stool. He shrugs it off, shaking his head.
“Hey, forget what I said. You didn’t do anything, bro. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Javi—“
In spite of the rising panic in his chest, Ryan’s too slow to climb down from his stool and the doors swing shut behind his partner, quickly swallowed by the night. Ryan stares dumbly, feeling like an ass, though he doesn’t know why and wasn’t that just fucking unfair?
He pulls his cellphone from his inner coat pocket and Beckett answers on the third ring.
“Ryan? I hope you don’t need someone to carry you home because I’m all out of good will for the night.”
She sounds weary, but determined and Ryan instantly calms that little bit at the familiar tone of it.
“Kate, I need Lanie’s number.”
Ryan hardly ever calls her by her given name. There’s a careful pause on the other end.
“Is everything all right? You got a body?”
“I just need her number, it’s important. Can you send me her business card?”
“Sure, right away. Kevin, are you okay?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”
But his voice trembles and they both know it’s a bald-faced lie. They hang up after a tentative goodbye from Kate, he knows she wants to ask more, but Ryan can’t answer what he doesn’t know, so he dials Lanie’s number as soon as his phone beeps in receipt of her business card.
“Parish,” She answers in a sleepy groan.
“Lanie, it’s Ryan,” He breathes, fingers drumming against the tabletop and notes that both glasses are still full, untouched.
“I’m sorry, I know it’s late, but I need to talk to you. It’s Javier.”
Lanie chuckles, tiredness gone from her voice.
“Ryan. So, he finally told you."
Re: FILL: How this will end - 2/2 (Ryan/Esposito, PG)
Date: 2010-12-17 01:06 am (UTC)Thank you so much for writing this though :D it's wonderful! - which is why I'm going crazy not knowing what's next.
You are planning on finishing it at some point right?
Re: FILL: How this will end - 2/2 (Ryan/Esposito, PG)
Date: 2010-12-17 02:41 am (UTC)Re: FILL: How this will end - 2/2 (Ryan/Esposito, PG)
Date: 2010-12-29 12:10 pm (UTC)Re: FILL: How this will end - 2/2 (Ryan/Esposito, PG)
Date: 2011-03-01 07:22 pm (UTC)There needs to be another sequel. Or I might chew through my lower lip angsting about it...
Re: FILL: How this will end - 2/2 (Ryan/Esposito, PG)
Date: 2011-03-01 09:38 pm (UTC)Re: FILL: How this will end - 2/2 (Ryan/Esposito, PG)
Date: 2011-03-01 11:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-23 06:32 pm (UTC)FILL: When there's no one left to pawn - 1/2 (Lucifer/Adam/Michael, PG)
Date: 2010-11-26 01:46 pm (UTC)Her name is Bela and she beckons to him from between the bars.
Adam goes because her eyes are so, so blue and when he’s close enough, her smooth hands settle on his shoulders. Her smile is apologetic, fingers trailing to his collarbone.
“Your brothers would have done this for me,” Bela says.
The blue of her eyes are swallowed by black and Adam feels the thread of metal too late.
It’s quick, like she’s signing her name over his heart and though he doesn’t know what she’s done, there’s heat at his back and then the fury of two archangels roars in his ears.
Bela doesn’t even scream when she goes up in flames.
He’s half-expecting it when Michael thrusts him away from the bars and Lucifer's grace winds around him, pulling him back to the cage’s dark core. He’s grown accustomed to the way they yank and shove, forgetting that Adam’s fragile or mortal because the tears in his flesh reform in this place out of time.
The ashes of Bela’s soul drift up and away on the wind of fire to that dot of light in the black sky. She’s beautiful.
Adam's skin blisters and cracks where Lucifer holds him. His whole body shudders when the devil sears a path of ice up behind his ear, like the slice of a knife with a hiss of frost. Adam thought he would become desensitised to the pain after time, falling numb to Lucifer’s resentment Adam wasn’t a vessel that had ever said ‘yes’ to him.
Lucifer couldn’t use him, unlike Michael.
Adam almost doesn’t mind those rare times Michael possesses him because, when he fights against Lucifer, it’s like being cut through his clothes instead of straight to the flesh.
Adam’s eyes have adjusted to the glare of their grace, but he still shuts his eyes when Michael crashes against him. Nobody ever wants to see the blow before it lands. He groans as the muscles in his neck reknit and he waits for the next hit or for the fire in his lungs when Michael spills into his body, but it never comes and Lucifer only squeezes him tighter.
There’s a moment of stillness, a tremble goes through the cage and Michael tips Adam’s head back, grace curling like a hand in his hair. Adam breathes against the fire of Michael’s other hand when it hovers at his lips, hesitant.
He knows something’s wrong when Lucifer loosens his hold.
Michael surges against him for what will be the first in many failed attempts to retake Adam’s skin.
Over his heart, the lines of Bela’s sigil glow.
It’s maybe ten years later when Adam falls to his knees and Michael turns on Lucifer instead.
Lightning streaks in the sky of the cage and Adam crawls towards the bars. A hellhound snarls on the other side, curled low like it’s poised to strike, but Adam just flops on his back when it barks, wild at the scent of the blood drying over his heart.
The hellhound sounds like church bells in comparison to the storm above his head.
The angels had tried everything to cut, burn, or rip the sigil out of skin, but every time he healed, there it was: Bela’s gift to him. Michael can’t possess Adam anymore and he doesn’t know what good it would have done, but Michael clearly isn’t a guy who’s used to being denied.
Adam releases a long sigh under the light show of the angels’ battle. It’s the first respite he’s had in years; it’s almost calming. The heat, electricity and concussive force of every clash ebb against him like a wave of water and sparks.
Michael is a lance of white-gold intent forcing his way through Lucifer’s obstacles, he regroups quickly and he always strikes back first.
Lucifer hardly looks like he’s trying, but he evades well. The longer Adam watches, the more he realises Lucifer only lands a blow when Michael gets too close. He throws another net of ice over his brother, a cage within a cage before Lucifer’s blue-grey entity retreats. Michael gives chase and it starts all over again.
It’s as though Lucifer doesn’t want to fight. Well, Adam has no sympathy for the bastard that gave him a spiteful ice burn, but he knows what it’s like to have Michael after you.
Better Lucifer than him.
FILL: When there's no one left to pawn - 2/2 (Lucifer/Adam/Michael, PG)
Date: 2010-11-26 01:47 pm (UTC)Lucifer lets go when Adam thrashes awake and, fuck, he thinks that’s the first time he’s ever fallen asleep in the cage. He didn’t know that was possible.
Michael is circling over their heads like some disembodied shark of light.
Looks like they finally got tired of trying to kill each other.
What’s your name?
Adam blinks at the soundless voice and stares at Lucifer, too surprised to answer. But then Lucifer swirls, grace reforming into something remarkably like flesh and when he brushes Adam’s foot, he feels solid.
The devil looks him over with soft, blue-grey eyes. Sparks shower behind him when Michael brushes the bars.
“I’m Lucifer. You’re Sam’s brother, right?”
Sam, the jailbreaker. Adam tries not to remember he used to have company, it hurt too much.
Michael spills to the ground and Adam gapes when he also reforms as human with dark hair and serious eyes, his mouth pressed in a thin line of anger. He’s scarier wearing a human expression and Adam pulls his knees up, shifting back on his hands when that dark look narrows at him.
“Answer him,” Michael orders, voice even. Old.
“Michael,” Lucifer warns.
Adam glances between them, why hadn’t they torn into him yet? What the hell was going on?
“Adam. I – I’m Adam,” His voice cracks and the way the angels look at each other makes him nervous enough to feel sick.
Lucifer’s eyebrows raise in a question like, well? It could be Adam’s imagination that the lines of Michael’s scowl suddenly don’t look so deep.
There’s no way out of this cage and Adam’s always known, but it hits him fresh when Michael releases a long breath and sinks down to his knees beside him. The cage is quiet for the first time since they fell in. Eventually, Michael leans forward and traces something on the ground in the dark.
"This is our language," Michael says, quietly and leans back, "Michael."
But when he says it, the sound slurs, thick, like a rush of wind or water in Adam's ears and it doesn't sound the way it always has before. It's Michael's true name. Adam's head feels like it's spinning. The symbols flare at Adam's thigh and before he realises it, Lucifer's doing the same, three characters long. They burn blue.
"Lucifer," the devil says (fuck, he's smiling), and Adam gets it.
He just hopes he isn't wrong. He hopes this is their olive branch. His hand shakes when he writes his name in the dark between theirs.
Adam.
Lucifer hums interest, tracing the edges of the short and uneven letters when they unexpectedly glow soft, pale gold.
Michael's staring at his name, expression unreadable.
Adam looks between them and sucks in a breath.
"Either of you ever played tic-tac-toe?"
Re: FILL: When there's no one left to pawn - 2/2 (Lucifer/Adam/Michael, PG)
Date: 2010-11-26 06:30 pm (UTC)Re: FILL: When there's no one left to pawn - 2/2 (Lucifer/Adam/Michael, PG)
Date: 2010-11-26 08:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-11-23 09:35 pm (UTC)Mm, prompting...and something from you...*ponder*
Supernatural, Gabriel + or / Castiel, something about Castiel prods those older brother instincts in Gabriel to awaken and so Gabriel takes up being the protective older brother for Cas. (Dean and Sam commentary welcomed but not required.)
FILL: Say after me - 1/2 (Gabriel + Castiel, Dean, PG)
Date: 2010-12-13 01:00 pm (UTC)Dean stumbles into the kitchen, bright with the first, sharp rays of the day, and almost walks right into Gabriel's back.
Gabriel is facing the window, hip almost touching the low table. He’s examining something between his fingers, fine and thin, shimmering like a hair in the morning light. Dean’s never seen that soft frown on his face before, it looks too much like concern.
He clears his throat and Bobby’s floorboards creak as he steps intently louder. The entire fridge shakes, bottles jostling noisily when he yanks the door open.
Gabriel ignores him, drawing out whatever it is between his hands. He holds it, short and light, like a piece of string and Dean hovers, bottle of milk almost to his lips, wondering if he's interrupting after all.
“Losing your hair, Gabe? Happens to even the best of us,” Dean says, grabbing a loaf of bread and deciding it's still edible after a quick sniff.
Gabriel runs his thumb and index finger through empty air and for a second, the sunlight catches on that unseen object, glances off the edge like a blade when Gabriel turns it to a different angle.
“It’s Castiel’s feather,” Gabriel says, voice uncharacteristically flat. His fingers pinch like they’re bracing the feather’s spine and he holds it out to Dean. Dean looks from Gabriel’s empty hand to his patiently expectant expression. It's a rare thing for Gabriel to meet his eye with such a straight face, so this is either a very patient joke or something important.
His hand passes through the empty air and doesn’t come up against any resistance or sensation of any kind.
“I don’t feel anything,” Dean says, gruff and disappointed.
"Yeah," Gabriel murmurs, like he'd expected that, and pulls the invisible thing back, rolling it between the pads of his fingers. "You wouldn't, if you can't handle the sight of us."
And, okay, Dean was finding this pensive, broody persona completely unsettling on the trickster.
"... Is Cas all right?" He finally asks, bread slowly wilting in the crush of his hand.
Gabriel's hand drops to his side and he shrugs. "I guess that depends on your point of view."
Dean's eyebrows creep into his hairline, bemused as the angel saunters out of the kitchen, free hand in his pocket and... yeah... Gabriel was walking away. Walking. Not snapping his way to his next destination.
It was way too early in the morning to wonder why an archangel was forgetting himself over a feather.
"Cas, are you... moulting?" Dean pushes the words through his teeth, rolling the tension back through his shoulders.
Why does it feel like he's sitting a girl down to talk her through her menstrual cycle? He didn't even know if he was right, but he was anxious this could be a horrifyingly awkward topic of conversation for angels. It made Dean awkward just considering it could be awkward. It may not even be something angels acknowledged, but according to Gabriel, Castiel was moulting all over Bobby's property and if Dean could only see, it would have looked like a sea of glass with a thousand refractions. It was definitely an image to consider at a sunset like this, with the sun sinking behind a cloud of peach and electric orange.
It had been one of their quieter days, bent over research and only rising for food. Dean was stir crazy and found Castiel on one of the higher car stacks when he went walking. It was almost as though Castiel had been waiting for him.
Castiel's eyes narrow at him from his perch, and doesn't he look imperious?
"Moulting?"
"You know, when birds--"
"I know, Dean. I'm not a bird, I --" Castiel blinks at him and his brow pinches in stern surprise. "Can you see them?"
FILL: Say after me - 2/2 (Gabriel + Castiel, Dean, PG)
Date: 2010-12-13 01:02 pm (UTC)Castiel's head tilts for a moment, like an involuntary tic he can't quite repress. He smiles wryly at the far, rolling hills towards the highway.
"Only my grace."
Dean stares. He looks over his shoulder at the lot of rusted cars and work benches and tries to imagine what Castiel sees. So many feathers like broken shards over every surface. He read in one of their books that angels could have as many as three or more pairs of wings, and they weren't like the wings of birds, but heat and Heaven and ice and power, but all he can imagine is glass and he thinks it would be blinding.
"I'm sorry, Cas."
Castiel's eyes flick back to him, reflecting grey and gold in the dusk. Dean sees him swallow and then he's gone.
Gabriel finds him leaning against the tallest of the pine trees in the plantation a twenty minute drive from Bobby's salvage yard.
"You've got a choice, you know."
"I'll still fight," Castiel grinds out without hesitation.
Gabriel sighs and turns his brother to face him with a hand on his shoulder. Castiel's expression dares him to challenge, but beneath Jimmy's skin, the flare of his grace stutters like the flame of a candle bent by the wind.
Gabriel's hand tightens on his shoulder.
"You'd be okay... being human, it can be good. Although the pounds stay on and your flesh will bruise, but you'd get away with so much more if you would have fun with it."
Castiel glowers at him. "I've seen humans' fun in their bars, jails and their whorehouses--"
"Oh, but there's Disneyworld and Oktoberfest and Hogmanay… and dessert. So many desserts – and sex!" Gabriel reasons, trailing off in defeat at Castiel's belligerently uncooperative glare. "Cas, there's so much down here you could enjoy in the detail, you never would have seen this stuff in the clouds. Come on, this is what you're fighting for!"
"I'm fighting for life, not indulgence! I'm dying for free will and right and -- you have done so much worse, why do you keep your powers when I'm the one trying--?"
Gabriel could have pointed to the evident 'archangel' predisposition, but this felt like one of those more rhetorical moments, so he raises his hands in defense.
"Chill, bro. You're scared; that's just the humanity talking."
Castiel moves away when Gabriel reaches for him again.
"… I'm trying, Gabriel," Castiel says, hoarse, and this time Gabriel gets his grip on him. Castiel's expression twists into one of pain and his next words are barely a breath of sound, "I’m scared."
"Castiel." Gabriel can't help but gently shake him by the shoulders. "I'm right here."
Castiel looks into his face like he's a stranger. "Don't pretend we know each other, Gabriel. Are you the pagan idol or the archangel? Do you even have your sword?"
Gabriel's eyes narrow and the silver blade flashes between them with a flick of his wrist. Hmm. It's heavier than he remembers.
"You can be scared and cry to your pillow, or you can join me to kick some ass despite your fear," Gabriel tells him, voice abruptly breaking into a light jaunt, "You should know I come packaged with some serious weapons of mass destruction -- and Krakatoa? That was all me."
Castiel studies him, doubtful. "You're going to fight?"
"Probably die trying," Gabriel shrugs. He cracks a grin. "But hey, once more unto the breach's a lot easier with company, right?"
He offers his hand and Castiel stares at it with growing confusion, but Gabriel smiles, squeezing warmly when he finally takes it.
"And I'm your brother; Gabriel. Nice to meet you."
Castiel trembles when Gabriel's grace hauls him in for a hug, but when Castiel’s fingers curl into his jacket, Gabriel just laughs softly against his ear and holds on.
It could be nice to have a brother again.
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Date: 2010-12-14 02:57 am (UTC)I just. Thank you so much. <3 <3 <3
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Date: 2010-12-14 07:59 am (UTC)I'm so glad you liked Dean's involvement and the imagery worked for you. I argued with MS Word when it insisted to spell it 'moulting', but I finally bowed. [is shamed]
Re: FILL: Say after me - 2/2 (Gabriel + Castiel, Dean, PG)
Date: 2010-12-14 03:11 am (UTC)Re: FILL: Say after me - 2/2 (Gabriel + Castiel, Dean, PG)
Date: 2010-12-14 08:20 am (UTC)If you like, I'd love to write you something as well, just leave me your note in a new comment. :]
Re: FILL: Say after me - 2/2 (Gabriel + Castiel, Dean, PG)
Date: 2010-12-14 01:18 pm (UTC)Also, I hope you don't mind, but after paging through your journal
like a creeper, I've friended you because you seem like an awesome person, and OMG your fanfiction is absolutely wonderful! Don't feel obligated to friend back though, lol!Re: FILL: Say after me - 2/2 (Gabriel + Castiel, Dean, PG)
Date: 2010-12-14 07:34 pm (UTC)Hahaha, thank you so much! You're welcome to anything you find on this journal, I really only started writing again a year ago, so I hope you enjoy what you find. I LOVE COMPANY -- we shall be friends! ;D
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Date: 2010-12-07 04:23 am (UTC)Lucifer/Gabriel/Michael, They let him run once, but they won't be making that mistake again
WHy, yes, i do fail at prompts. XD
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Date: 2010-12-29 03:55 pm (UTC)» Title: This Thing You'll Never Doubt
» Warnings: Angelcest, language
» Pairing(s)/Characters: Lucifer/Michael/Gabriel
» Summary: The world wasn't saved by candy alone, but it did help.
» A/N: Originally written for
Gabriel wakes up in the backseat of a cyan Cadillac and it takes him a moment to realise someone actually got the drop on him.
no subject
Date: 2010-12-14 01:35 pm (UTC)Dean/Gabriel OR Castiel/Gabriel (which I adore just as much) - Reunion
Thank you again for letting me leave a prompt here!! ^_^
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Date: 2011-01-05 12:49 pm (UTC)» Title: Come with me if you want to live
» Warnings: Spoilers for Season 5
» Pairing(s)/Characters: Dean/Gabriel
» Summary: Dean falls down a hole. Gabriel arrives to save him.
» A/N: Dedicated to the lovely
It was not Dean's choice to hunt under a moonless night.