#otrerawrites

[draftingtides]

14x19 coda

501 words/gen/Dean is the villain in this fic, if I see a Dean stan trying to defend him in the notes of this post I will physically manifest in their house and eat their shower curtain/AO3/part 2 coming soon

Cas is nearly speechless with fury; he raises his finger accusingly at Dean and grits out, “You manipulated him.” He pronounces “manipulated” like it’s some disgusting, venomous creature which exists only to vex sentient beings.

“He agreed to it,” Dean fires back, equally as angry as Cas. “Because deep down, I think he knows it’s best.”

He won’t listen, Cas, Sam prays silently. He won’t listen.

Cas’ eyes flicker almost unnoticeable in Sam’s direction, and within the next second he places two fingers on Dean’s forehead and Dean collapses to the floor.

Sam springs up from his chair and follows as Cas stalks out of the room, trenchcoat billowing out behind him.

When he reaches the room that holds the Ma’lek box, Cas doesn’t bother to open the door and simply blows it off its hinges instead.

“Sam? Dean?” Jack’s voice is frantic and scared inside the box.

“We’re here, Jack,” says Cas. He and Sam make short work of the latches on the outside of the box.

Jack sits up and climbs shakily out of the box. His cheeks are flushed and sweaty, and his hair is in disarray. His eyes are rimmed red. “I don’t like it in there.”

“We know, Jack,” Cas says gently, but then he looks back to Sam and his gaze goes hard and flinty. “Can I trust you?”

Sam’s heart aches. “Yes.”

Cas turns back to Jack. “Go pack. We’re leaving.”

“Why?”

“It’s a long story. I’ll explain in the car.”

Jack leaves the room.

“How long will Dean be out?” asks Sam.

“Hours.”

Less than ten minutes later, all three of them are packed and on the road in some old Buick. Sam had made sure to switch the plates so Dean wouldn’t know which ones they were using.

Sam consults a Men of Letters journal he’d brought. “There’s a, ah, old Men of Letters chapel house in Cincinnati. It’s warded, kind of out-of-the-way.”

Cas nods and hands Sam his phone. “Can you put it in Google Maps?”

As Sam types in the address, Jack, who has remained silent thus far, speaks up. “Why isn’t Dean coming with us?”

Sam and Cas exchange a look. Sam clears his throat and tries his best to explain. “Dean doesn’t… he’s not sure it’s a good idea for you to be out of the Ma’lek box.”

In the rear-view mirror, Jack’s eyebrows furrow. “But - you guys are working on a spell to fix my soul. So I won’t be dangerous for much longer.”

Cas takes over. “Jack… there is no spell.”

Silence. “What?”

“There is no spell. Dean lied to you.”

“What?” Jack tries to meet Sam’s eyes in the mirror. “But - Sam. Sam said.”

Sam closes his eyes against the shame. “I’m so sorry, Jack.”

Jack sits back in his seat, disbelieving, and turns his face away from them. And as Sam listens to his son start to cry, he hates himself even more and has to wonder how he could have ever though Jack was soulless.

#otrerawrites #spn spoilers #spn coda #coda s14e19 #spn 14x19 #supernatural 14x19 #14x19 spoilers #14x19 jack in the box #sam winchester #jack kline #castiel #fanfiction #fanfic #spn fic #spn fanfic #my post

[draftingtides]

Same Hat!

@thekingtrickster @just-livin-while-i-can

Words: 689

Tags: agender!Sam, trans!lesbian!Dean, misgendering, coming out

AO3

Sam was beyond nervous to come out to Dean, but it was getting to the point where they visibly flinched whenever he misgendered them, and that wasn’t helping anyone. So Sam waited until Dean seemed relatively happy for a few days, went out and bought the biggest, greasiest burgers they could find to… well, they weren’t entirely sure. Butter Dean up? Make him happier and easier to break the news to? But Dean hadn’t come out of his room all day, and when he didn’t come to the kitchen for dinner, that was when Sam started to get worried.

They wandered through the halls of the bunker, calling Dean’s name and becoming increasingly more anxious. Finally, they checked his room. The door was closed, which wasn’t unusual, but the noises coming from behind it certainly were - someone was crying. Not loudly, not obnoxious sobs, but soft, quiet tears.

Sam knocked on the door. “Dean?”

The crying stopped. Dean’s voice was scratchy. “Sammy?”

“Can I come in?”

Long pause. “Yeah.”

Sam opened the door and poked their head inside.

Dean was laying on his stomach on his bed, face buried in his pillow. Sam edged closer and settled awkwardly on the edge of the bed.

“Dean, are… are you okay?”

Dean squeezed his arms tighter around his pillow and didn’t answer.

“Do you want a distraction?”

Dean sighed heavily and shoved the pillow aside. “Nah.” He rolled over, and even though Sam had known he was crying, it was still a shock to see his eyes red-rimmed and puffy - and even more shocking that he had let Sam see it.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Sam hedged cautiously.

Dean shrugged. “I don’t know.”

They stared at each other in silence until Dean said, “Yeah. I guess.”

He sat up and faced away from Sam, leaning on his knees, head hanging down. “So, um…” He cleared his throat and wiped his hands on his jeans. “Do you know what transgender means?”

Sam’s heartbeat richoched into overdrive. Did Dean already know what Sam had been planning to tell him? Was the news of Sam’s gender so disastrous to Dean that it had made him cry?

Sam tried to keep their voice steady. “Um. Yeah.”

“Great. That’s, um, great.” Dean’s voice was growing smaller and smaller. “Do you think it’s, like, weird?”

“No.”

“So…” Dean mumbled something unintelligible.

“What?”

Dean clenched his fist. His voice was barely a whisper. “I think I’m a girl.”

Sam’s brain nearly short-circuited. Whatever they had been expecting, it wasn’t this. “What?”

That was the wrong thing to say. Dean tensed even further and said, “Never mind, I’m just being stupid -”

“No! No, Dean that’s not - I was just surprised. I was planning to come out to you and you came out to me instead.”

Dean spun around, mouth hanging open and eyes wide. “What?”

“Yeah.” Sam laughed nervously. “I’m nonbinary. Agender. I’m not a guy or a girl. I’m not anything.”

“Oh. Wow. Uh, pronouns?”

“They/them. You?”

“She/her.”

Sam nodded. “Do you still want to go by ‘Dean’?”

“Yeah. And…?”

“Still ‘Sam’.”

Dean nodded and involuntarily giggled. “This is so fucking bizarre.” She looked up at them. “I still like girls, though.”

“Cool.” Sam shifted closer on the bed. “So, how long…”

“Have I known?”

Sam nodded.

“I dunno. A few years. Since… since Amara, maybe? How about you?”

Sam looked down. “Since I was a kid. I didn’t have a word for it until Stanford, but I kind of always knew.”

“Sam, I’m so sorry I didn’t notice -”

“No, Dean, it’s okay. We both had to figure ourselves out before we could help each other.”

Dean nodded and looked down. “Just ‘cause I’m a chick doesn’t mean I like chick-flick moments, but, um, can I have a hug?”

Sam hugged her without a second thought. Dean hugged them back so tightly Sam thought their ribs might bruise, but they didn’t protest.

“Thanks,” Dean mumbled in their ear.

“Any time.”

And if they spent the whole rest of the night watching Disney movies and trading makeup, well, that was no one’s business but theirs.

#otrerawrites #queer sam #nb!sam #trans sam #trans!sam #trans!dean #mtf dean #lesbian!dean #trans!lesbian!dean #queer spn #my post #starlight starwrite

[draftingtides]

Y'all remember the lebanon verse? Sam's genderqueer in that now

#sam winchester #starlight starwrite #<- my new writing tag btw #old one was -> #otrerawrites #lebanon!verse #my post

[draftingtides]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Supernatural, Criminal Minds (US TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Spencer Reid/Sam Winchester Characters: Spencer Reid, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Aaron Hotchner, Derek Morgan Additional Tags: Injured Sam Winchester, Hospitals, Hurt Sam Winchester, Sam Winchester Gets Shot, Getting Together, Kissing Summary:

Sam gets shot on a hunt and Spencer is there.

#otrerawrites #samreid #sam winchester #spencer reid #supernatural #spn #criminal minds #cm #my post #starlight starwrite

[draftingtides]

Lebanon

Ship: Sam/OMC

Words: 3310

Rating: G

Summary: Sam meets someone in town.

Sam slowed his run to a walk, panting and wiping sweat off his forehead. He took a long drink from his water bottle and looked around absentmindedly, trying to pinpoint where exactly he was. He was trying a new running route this morning. He wasn’t often in this part of town. Across the street, he spotted a little building with a sign declaring Godfrey Books: Used Books Store.

Sam checked his watch; he still had a few minutes before he had to get back to the bunker. He waited for a few cars to pass and crossed the street, pulling a hairband off his wrist and tying his sweaty hair up in a ponytail.

A bell jingled as he opened the door. The interior of the shop was cozy, with a few tables and beanbags in one corner and bookshelves in neat rows. Near the front of the shop was a counter and a cash register, behind which sat a man reading a book.

The man at the counter looked up when Sam walked in. He had a bit of scruff and a kind face. When he saw Sam, his mouth dropped open like a guppy, although he quickly closed it and sat up straight. “Welcome to Godfrey’s Books, is there anything I can help you with?”

Continue on AO3

#otrerawrites #spn fanfic #fantiction #sam/omc #sam winchester x oc #bisexual!sam winchester #queer sam winchester #samatt #lebanon!verse #my post

[draftingtides]

Usually, he and Dean took breaks between hunts, which is partially why finding his own doppelganger in the diner after a night of killing vampires was so displeasing.

This fic includes:

Sam dealing with depersonalization

Sam dealing with trauma

Sam struggling with his sense of identity

Sam seeing a therapist

Friendly shapeshifters

Canon levels of queer-coded Sam (and likely actual queer Sam)

#otrerawrites #sam winchester #sam winchester appreciation #sam winchester fic #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #spn #spn fic #fanfiction #my post #here have an updated version of this post

[draftingtides]

It Ain’t Freddy Krueger

SPN Rare Ship CC: Round 22 | otrera-kicks-ass vs. @truthfulnomad

Prompt: Freddy Krueger

Ship: Sam/Mick (Sammick)

Word Count: 2272

Summary: Sam and Dean take Mick on a case. It has an unexpected outcome.

Notes: Thanks to the mods of @rareshipcreationschallenge for allowing me an extension!

AO3

There was exactly one thing Sam disliked about the Impala, and it was the fact that it had lap belts instead of regular seatbelts. Every single time Mick rode in the car with them on the way to the bunker or the Men of Letters' base, the lap belt let him lean forward until his chin was practically on Sam's shoulder as they listened to a podcast or Mick read lore books over Sam's shoulder. Mick's breath tickled the edge of Sam's collar and his hair, leaving goosebumps and a tingly sensation in its wake.

It was very distracting.

"So, uh," Sam stuttered, trying to keep his mind off how close Mick was, "this looks like a baku."

"The hell is that?" said Dean.

"It's a Japanese chimera-type creature. It kills people in their dreams," said Mick.

"Like Freddy Krueger?"

"Not quite," said Sam. "It doesn't kill people in their dreams, it kills people by stealing their dreams. Apparently, it's pretty common in Japan for children to ask a baku to take away their nightmares, but if you summon it too many times, it starts taking all of your dreams. And without dreams, people can't get a deep enough sleep, which leads to sleep deprivation and eventually death.”

"But none of the vics in the article died from sleep deprivation. They all killed themselves."

"Baku can steal metaphorical dreams, too," said Mick. "And without dreams... there isn't much to live for."

Dean scoffed, like he usually did after Mick spoke. "Yeah? What're your dreams, Harry Potter?"

Sam couldn't see him, but he could imagine Mick's lips tightening as he bit back a rude response.

"They're similar to most people's, I would imagine. To be happy."

"Real textbook answer," Dean remarked.

"Dean," Sam said quietly.

"Yeah, yeah." He pressed harder on the gas. "We're almost there. Say something if you see a motel."

Sam frowned. "Hey, I know cash is kinda,low right now, but are you sure you want to stay in a motel? With, ah..." He tilted his head subtly in Mick's direction.

"Hell no, Sam, we are not changing our whole lifestyle for the Queen of England over here. He'll just have to deal with it. See how real hunters live."

"I'll manage, Sam," said Mick. "It can't be too bad."

Sam chewed on his lower lip and refrained from saying anything else.

Dean pulled into the parking lot and got out of the car to book rooms. Sam got out to stretch and leaned against the car to wait for Dean. He was back in a few minutes and tossed Sam a key.

“You're in room twelve.”

“You got us separate rooms?”

“You're sharing with him,” Dean jerked his thumb at Mick. “I'm getting some company after this is over, and I'm not gonna let either of you complain about it.”

Sam rolled his eyes.

“Hey, I deserve it for putting up with him.”

Sam tapped on the window of the Impala. Mick looked up. Sam gestured for him to get out.

“I’m gonna be in room fourteen. I’m thinking we get some takeout, do a little research on this Freddy Krueger thing, then go to sleep and interview the vics’ families tomorrow?”

“Sounds like a plan,” said Sam said as Mick got out of the car.

They went their separate ways to their respective rooms.

“Okay, I know this isn’t exactly what you’re used to,” Sam told Mick, “so don’t take off your shoes, don’t sleep on the covers - actually, maybe just don’t touch the covers at all - and, uh, if you see any weird stains don’t think about where they came from.”

“Right,” said Mick, looking a little queasy.

The room was small, like most motel rooms. One of the beds was so close to the door that they could barely get into the room. There was a small, old, staticky television on a table directly across from the other bed. The carpet was a hideous electric green.

Sam took the duvets off both of the beds and put them on the floor in the corner, then dropped his stuff on the bed closest to the door. Mick did the same with the bed by the television and began to unpack. All the clothes Mick was taking out of his duffel bag were suits.

“Hey, did you bring any casual clothes?” Sam asked.

Mick raised his eyebrows. “This is casual.”

Sam bit back a laugh. “You ever try to fight in a suit?”

Mick shook his head.

“It’s not exactly easy. It’s fine, we can pick you up a few outfits or something tonight. Come on.”

They went over to Dean’s room and Sam knocked on the door. Dean opened it.

“Hey, can I borrow the keys to the Impala? Mick needs some clothes.”

“What?”

“He only brought suits.”

Dean snorted. “Smooth. No way am I letting you drive my baby if I have a choice, though. I’ll drive and we can get some food on the way back.”

They all got back in the car. Dean turned the key in the ignition and pulled out of the motel parking lot.

“Either of you know if there’s a Goodwill nearby?”

“Dean, don’t make him get clothes from a thrift shop. He’s already had enough culture shock.”

“No way in hell are gonna go to, like, J. Crew or LOFT or somewhere to spend a million dollars on hunting clothes,” Dean growled.

“We don’t have to go somewhere high-end, just, like - I don’t know, Target.”

Dean rolled his eyes like going to Target was the worst store imaginable. “Fine.”

When they arrived at Target, Dean stomped through the store to the men’s section with Sam and Mick hurrying to keep up. Dean grabbed a bunch of flannels and some t-shirts off the racks and shoved the bundle at Mick. “Try these on, see if any of them fit.”

Mick took the clothes. “Where are the fitting rooms?”

Dean jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Back of the store.”

Sam and Dean hung around the outside of the dressing rooms while they waited for Mick to try on the shirts. Dean tapped his foot impatiently and checked his watch every five seconds.

“Well?”

Sam turned around. Mick was standing behind him with his arms spread out, like have at it, then. His shirt was buffalo plaid and buttoned up all the way to the neck. “How do I look?” he prompted.

“Uh, good,” said Sam, who couldn’t help but notice the way the flannel accentuated his narrow hips. “Like a hunter.”

Dean snorted. “He’s got a long way to go.”

Sam ignored him. “Will other shirts fit under it? It gets cold at night sometimes, so hunters tend to layer up.”

“I dunno. Give me a sec.”

He disappeared into the fitting room and came back out a minute later, looking the same as before.

“Did it fit?”

Mick nodded and tugged at the collar a bit. “But I must say, it’s quite warm with all these layers.”

Sam stifled a laugh. “Mick… are you… wearing another shirt under that one right now?”

“Yes, why?”

“You should unbutton the flannel, it’ll be a lot more comfortable.”

Sam stepped forward and unbuttoned the top few buttons without thinking. Mick stilled, and Sam realised that it was probably weird to help someone unbutton their shirt unless they - well. It would be weird to keep unbuttoning. Would it be weirder to stop? Sam kept going, feeling the heat of Mick’s body as he did so, until he’d unbuttoned every button and revealed the white t-shirt underneath the flannel.

Sam rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly and took a couple steps back.

Mick seemed as thrown as Sam was. “Thanks,” he said, his face redder than usual.

“No problem,” said Sam.

“Hey, Harry Potter, do they fit or not?”

Sam rolled his eyes as Mick answered. “They fit.”

“Cool. Hurry up and change back so we can by them and get out of here.”

“He still needs some jeans,” Sam reminded him.

Dean snorted. “Wanna help him unbutton those, too?”

“Dean!”

Mick went oddly quiet, his fist balling in the bottom of the flannel.

“Ignore him, he’s just being a dick,” Sam muttered. “Come on, let’s go find you some pants.”

Mick ended up choosing some yoga pants over jeans because he liked how flexible they were - and they were flexible indeed. They moulded to his lower half the way Dean’s memory foam mattress moulded to his body. Every time Sam thought about it, he face heated up and he got tingly all over.

The baku leaped forward, its claws outstretched, ready to scratch Mick’s face off. Sam barrelled into it from the side, knocking in over. It bared its teeth at him and screeched horrifically,

“Sam!” Dean shouted. “You help Mick, I’ll keep it away!” He began herding it out the door.

“Dean! Wait!” But Dean ignored him and chased it out of the room, so Sam scrambled over to Mick. Tears streamed down his face as he clutched at his bloody leg.

“You’re gonna be okay,” Sam mumbled, opening the first aid kit, “you’re gonna be fine, hang on, just give me a minute.” Sam pressed a dressing to the cut. “Can you hold this here for me?”

Mick nodded.

Sam began applying the roller bandages. “Do you feel any different? Lightheaded, dizzy, nauseous?”

“Um,” said Mick, “dizzy. Tired.”

“Okay,” said Sam. He tied off the bandages and leaned back on his heels. “Can I look at your pupils for a second?”

Mick nodded, so Sam leaned forward and examined them. “They’re not enlarged, so I don’t think you’re going into shock yet, but you will soon if we don’t close that wound.”

“Sammy!”

Sam looked up sharply. “Dean!”

Dean entered the room, grinning broadly, both he and his angel blade covered in blood. “I got him!”

“By yourself? Do you even know how dangerous that is?”

Dean shrugged. “It worked, didn’t it?”

By the time Sam finished the last of Mick’s stitches, Dean had showered and left to go to a bar.

Sam stands up and stretches leisurely. “You want to get dinner?” Vaguely, he thinks of taking Mick somewhere not too expensive but classier than Dominos.

“How about some takeout?”

“Sounds good.” Mick shouldn’t be going anywhere with his new stitches, anyway.

They order Chinese from a place down the street and ate on their beds, chatting about lore and the case and other trivial topics. When they’re done, Sam takes Mick’s trash for him so he doesn’t have to get up and gets them both beers.

Mick turns on the television and they channel surf for a while before landing on some conspiracy theory show. It was an awkward angle to watch from Sam’s bed, but he was tired and didn’t really care.

Mick patted the bit of mattress next to him. "Come over here. You'll get a crick in your neck."

Sam obeyed silently, heart beating faster as he got closer to Mick.

They clinked beer bottles. "Cheers to a successful hunt."

"Cheers," said Sam.

It wasn't long before he was pleasantly buzzed. The room was warm, the television dimly lit the room, and Mick was slowly leaning on his shoulder. Sam wasn't sure if it was because he was tired or because of... other reasons, but Sam wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He put his arm around Mick's shoulders and pulled him in closer. Mick went willingly, settling in closer to Sam's body.

The television faded into the background as Sam watched Mick's chest rise and fall. Its rhythm was slow and steady, like Sam's, but probably not because Mick was drunk. Sam didn't even know if he could get drunk, based on that time Mick slept over at the bunker. He had gotten at least a little tipsy, though, with pink spots on his cheeks and lips wet from alcohol. Mick's lips were really pretty when he was drinking. Sam shifted them so he could see if Mick's lips were that pretty right now.

"Sam?"

Sam realised he was staring, but he didn't think to stop. Something somewhere in his brain connected, and he asked, "Can I kiss you?"

Mick looked up at him and Sam was half a second away from retracting his question when Mick said, "Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes."

Sam leaned over and just kind of... smushed his lips against Mick's. They weren't so much kissing as feeling each other's skin and breath. Sam brought his left hand up to cup Mick's cheek and turn his face to get a better angle. It was chaste and sweet, like teenagers kissing for the first time. Except they were adults and drunk instead of teenagers.

Mick pulled him down to reach him easier until Sam was laying flat on his back with Mick leaning over him. They separated slightly in order to breath and took a moment to just look at each other.

Sam absently stroked his thumb over Mick's cheekbone. “Y’know… you're really cute. And smart.”

Mick thumped his forehead onto Sam's chest and giggled the most un-Mick-like giggle ever. It was adorable.

“So…” Sam absentmindedly rested his hand on the back of Mick’s head. “Do you… like me?”

Mick sighed. “Probably.”

“Probably?”

“I’m not good at people,” he confessed. “Or feelings.”

“Does that mean we’re not going to do this again?”

Mick was silent.

Sam’s heart sank. He nodded, a lump in his throat. “Okay.”

“I didn’t say no.”

Sam tilted his head to look at his eyes. Mick met his eyes and smiled. Sam smiled back.

#otrerawrites #sammick #spnrareshipcc #truthfulnomad #mick davies #sam winchester #idk for certain #but i think if you view this directly from my blog #it ignores the read more and shows the whole post #so ill tag this #long post #also idk who fredy krueger is i had to look him up #so i used it more as inspiration than as the main idea

[draftingtides]

Lucifer

AO3

Words: 2182 (Sorry to any mobile users viewing this directly from my blog)

Rating: G

Summary: Six fledgling!angels (with no explanation as to why they are fledglings ¯\_(ツ)_/¯) and a little bit of angst quickly fixed by fluff.

Notes: I wrote this over a year ago with plans to turn it into a multi-chapter fic, but I could never find the time. I still don't have the time, but I do really love this ficlet, so I figured I'd post it here. It's set after Sam lets Lucifer out of the Cage, but before Lucifer does any bad stuff. (I never write Lucifer as good/redeemable if the fic is set after the Cage.)

"Lunch!" Dean shouted from the kitchen.

Sam glanced up from Green Eggs and Ham, which he'd been reading to Castiel, Gadreel, and Gabriel. He could smell burgers.

"C'mon, guys, let's go get some food," he said, setting the book on the coffee table. He got a former grip on the youngest angel (who was apparently a cuddler as a toddler) and stood.

Gabriel looked up from where he was sitting on the floor with his stuffed corgi. "But you didn't finish the story!"

Sam suppressed a sigh. "Gabe, I've read it to you three times today."

"You didn't finish it now!"

Sam felt a tugging on his pants and looked down. It was Gadreel.

"Can we eat?"

Laughing, Sam said, "Yeah, we can go eat. Let's go, Gabe. We'll finish the story later."

Not looking entirely with their compromise, Gabriel trailed after Sam and Gadreel, still holding his dog.

The table was already set, complete with placemats under the plates and phonebooks on the chair. Michael had already claimed a seat. Dean was just putting out a plate of hamburgers when Sam and the three angels entered.

Castiel's eyes lit up at the sight. He leaned forward in an attempt to escape Sam's arms and made gimme-hands. "Buggers!"

Dean chuckled. "Yeah, Cas, burgers." He took the youngest angel from Sam and plopped him down on the chair with the tallest stack of phonebooks. Sam lifted Gabriel up and set him on the chair next to Castiel.

Gadreel tried to clamber onto the chair next to Michael, but the older angel leaned over and slapped his hands over the chair. "No! Lucifer sits here!"

Gadreel's bottom lip began to tremble. Sam quickly said, "Whoa, hey, don't cry. Look, you can sit next to me, okay?"

Gadreel brightened at that, and he happily allowed himself to be lifted onto the chair next to Sam.

"Where is Lucifer?" asked Dean, setting down a bowl of salad next to the hamburgers. "And Bobby and Raphael?"

"I'll go find them," Sam said.

Bobby and Raphael, it turned out, were in Bobby's study. Bobby was asleep in a chair at his desk, and Raphael was sitting on his lap with Gadreel's wooden puzzle spread out in front of him. Sam couldn't help but grin.

"Hey, kiddo," Sam said quietly. Raphael looked up. "Want some food?"

Raphael nodded and held his arms out to be picked up. Sam lifted him up carefully, trying to disturb Bobby as little as possible.

Sam set him down in the hallway. "Do you know where Lucifer is?"

Raphael shook his head.

"Okay, thanks anyway. Go eat some lunch, and tell Dean that Bobby's sleeping."

Raphael ran off toward the kitchen.

Sam looked in both of the bedrooms, the bathrooms, and even the pantry, but he couldn't find Lucifer anywhere.

He poked his head into the kitchen to make sure Lucifer hadn't gone in there while Sam was looking for him, but neither Dean nor any of the other five angels had seen him.

"Maybe he went outside," Dean suggested. "Want me to go check?"

God knew Sam hated spending more time with Lucifer than was necessary, but he declined the offer. He knew Dean would scold Lucifer harshly for going outside without supervision - not that he shouldn't be reprimanded, but Dean was likely to go over-the-top with his punishment.

Sam went out on the front porch. He cupped his hands around his mouth, took a deep breath, and shouted, "Lucifer!"

When no four-year-old came running, Sam sighed. He was not looking forward to the prospect of looking through all the junk cars on the lot. Then, a flash of white in the front seat of the Impala caught his eye. Sam was suddenly very grateful that Dean was still inside. He'd flip if he knew Lucifer was in the Impala unsupervised

"Lucifer," said Sam, crossing to the car, "it's time for lunch."

The white edge of Lucifer's wing didn't move. Sam opened the driver's seat door and almost laughed. Lucifer's three sets of wings were cocooning his body. Not even his fingers or the tips of his fingers could be seen.

"I can see you, you know. Feathers don't make you invisible."

"Go 'way!"

Had it been Cas - or, hell, any of the other angels - Sam probably wouldn't have hesitated to simply pick him up and carry him inside, but this was Lucifer, so hesitate he did.

"Lucifer," he tried again, "c'mon. Dean made burgers."

"I don't want any!"

"Dude. Hurry up, or I'm gonna have to put you in time-out."

Lucifer's head poked out of his wing cocoon, making him look like a bizarre turtle.

"No! I'm gonna stay here forever."

Sam remembered something he'd read on one of those parenting websites he'd found: "You probably won't understand most things your child does or says, but ask them to explain and do your best to support them."

Sam knelt down next to the Impala, wincing a bit as his knees popped.

"Lucifer," he said. He made his voice quieter, less sharp. "Why don't you want to eat lunch?"

"I do."

Leaning back on his heels, Sam frowned and asked, "Then why won't you come inside?"

Lucifer mumbled something unintelligible and covered his head with his wings again.

"Dude, seriously. I can't help if you won't tell me what's wrong."

An odd noise was coming from underneath the wing cocoon, and the cocoon itself was visibly trembling. Sam took a deep, calming breath, then took a wing between his thumb and forefinger and gently lifted it. The back of Lucifer's head was revealed. He was shaking.

"Are you crying?" Sam blurted out incredulously. The toddlers cried, sure, but it was usually loud, violent crying that begged for attention. The way Lucifer was crying now was near-silent sobs, punctuated by little gasps and hiccoughs.

"No," insisted the angel.

Sam closed his eyes and reminded himself, he's powerless; the worst thing he can do is bite you. Then he lifted Lucifer out of the car by his armpits. Ignoring his squawk of protest, Sam sat down on the dirt and set Lucifer on his lap.

"Look at me. No, hey, look at me," he repeated when Lucifer avoided his eyes. When Sam was certain he had Lucifer's full attention, Sam asked him, "Why don't you want to go inside?"

Lucifer's bottom lip trembled. Then, "You don' wan' me!"

Startled, Sam said, "What?"

"You won' let me sit by you an' Dean'll not cut my burger an' Bobby'll make the mean face!"

Sam was taken aback. "You're upset because Bobby's grumpy and Dean won't cut up your food?"

"An' I never get to sit next by you! You hate me!" With that, he covered his face with his tiny hands and burst into tears again.

Oh. Oh. Lucifer was upset because the adults weren't treating him like the other angels. They were holding grudges against him for things he didn't remember doing. The kid was four, and they were treating him like he was still a millennia-old, nearly-omnipotent fallen angel.

Sam thought back to a couple days ago, when Lucifer had asked Sam to play with him. Sam had claimed he still had research to do, and now he recalled how lonely and forlorn Lucifer had looked as he played with his plastic army men by himself.

Then, yesterday, Lucifer had wanted to sit next to Sam, but Raphael had sat there instead. Later in the day, Lucifer had crushed Raphael's fingers with his miniature fighter jet and thrown a tantrum when they put him in time-out.

Just a few hours ago, Lucifer had asked to sit on the couch while Sam read Green Eggs and Ham, but Sam had told him that, between himself, Castiel, and Gadreel, there wasn't enough room.

How long had they been treating him like a pariah without noticing the effect it had on him? No wonder the toddler thought they hated him.

Tentatively, Sam wrapped his arms around the boy, being mindful of his wings, and pulled him to his chest. Lucifer immediately threw his arms around Sam's neck and started sobbing into his shoulder. Sam rubbed light circles between his shoulder blades and carded his fingers through Lucifer's hair, all the while rocking him back and forth and murmuring, "Shh, it's okay, it's okay."

When Lucifer was all cried out, Sam asked, "Do you want to go eat lunch now? I'll let you sit next to me."

"Dean," Lucifer mumbled.

"I'll make him cut up your burger."

"Bobby."

"Bobby won't even be there. He's sleeping."

After a moment's hesitation, Sam felt Lucifer nod.

"Okay, up we go." It was a tad bit difficult to stand up when he had a toddler attached to him like a limpet, but San was getting used to it - toddlers were clingy.

"Wait! My stuff!"

"What?"

"My stuff is in the car!"

Sam looked in the backseat of the Impala, and, lo and behold, there lay Lucifer's pyjamas, a t-shirt and pants, and the Ziploc bag filled with plastic soldiers.

"What's this in here for?"

"Was tryna run away," mumbled Lucifer into Sam's shirt, "but I di'n know how t' make the car go."

Sam snorted. "I'll bring it all inside after we eat."

At the porch, Sam set Lucifer down, but when he held out his hand, Sam took it in his own larger hand and led him into the house.

Dean raised his eyebrows at the hand-holding, but Sam shook his head at him, silently asking him to save his questions for later.

"Heya, Sammy," he said. "I was about to send out a search party for you."

"Sorry. Lucifer had to have a talk."

Dean furrowed his brow in silent question. Sam mouthed I'm okay and Dean relaxed. Any other interaction was stopped by Michael shouting, "Lucifer! I saved you a seat!"

"No, I'mma sit with Sam now."

Michael frowned, like he didn't understand. "But I saved it for you."

"Lucifer can sit next to you at dinner," Sam assured him, "but he's going to sit next to me for now."

"No, me!" piped up Gadreel.

"You can still sit next to me. Lucifer can sit on my other side."

Throughout lunch, Lucifer smiled so much that he could hardly chew his bite-sized pieces of cut up hamburger. His good mood continued when Sam agreed to play with him afterwards.

"Pew! Pew! Pew!" Lucifer made high-pitched gun noises with his little kid voice. He gestured with his plastic army men like the were shooting down the tiny plane Sam was whooshing around.

"Uh oh!" exclaimed Sam. He pretended to crash the plane.

"It's hurt!" said Lucifer. He scooped it up and ran over to Raphael. "Raph'el, its wing is hurt!"

Raphael looked up from his own wings, which he was examining with great interest.

As Sam watched the little boys interact, Dean came up behind him and ruffles his hair. Annoyed, Sam pushed his hand away.

"Quit it, jerk!"

"Make me, bitch," Dean shot back with a grin, but it soon melted. "What the hell is up with you and Lucifer?"

"Whaddaya mean?" asked Sam, even though he knew exactly what Dean was talking about.

"You went out to find him at lunch, and since you came back, you've been acting like he's your own damn kid, and not the actual fucking devil!"

Sam flinched. "Volume, Dean. The kids are still in the room." He leaned against the bottom of the sofa and tilted his head back to look at his brother. "Dean, he's a kid. He barely remembers anything from before. The rest of them are exactly the same. I'm not gonna be a dick to a little kid because of something he doesn't know he did. And you shouldn't, either."

Just then, Lucifer came running back, Raphael at his side.

"Raphael made the plane better!" He held it out so they could see the pretend gunshot wound covered by a fabric bandage from Raphael's toy veterinarian kit.

Dean stared down at the plane for a few moments, and then, in a shockingly kind voice, said, "That's great, guys."

Lucifer looked up at Dean uncertainly, but then Raphael tugged on Dean's hand and said, "Play with us." In no time at all, Dean was laying on his stomach and laughing as he helped Lucifer and Raphael wage war on Gabriel's stuffed corgi.

The battle quickly devolved into chaos. The other angels joined in, too. It seemed to be Sam, Lucifer, Gadreel, and Michael against Dean, Gabriel, and Raphael. Dean tried to recruit the Castiel, too, but the littlest angel seemed more interested in hiding the army men than in playing with them.

Out of the corner of his eye, Sam saw Bobby standing in the doorway. He tensed and got ready for an argument, but Bobby only grumbled something about idjits makin' a mess in his living room and walked out of the room. Sam caught a glimpse of a smile under his beard as he left. Sam smiled then, too, because he knew everything was going to be fine.

#otrerawrites #fledgling!angels #fledgling!lucifer #fledgling!gabe #fledgling!gadreel #fledgling!cas #fledgling!raphael #fledgling!michael

[draftingtides]

Coffee Date

Square Filled: coffee shop!au

Ship: Dreamhunter (Kaia/Claire)

Rating: G

AO3

Summary: Claire meets a cute girl while working at her new job.

Word Count: 420

Written/created for @spnaubingo

Every customer was the same. They were like drones, ordering coffee after coffee after coffee. But she was short on money, and Jody wanted her to stay as legal as possible, so Claire powered through the day.

A girl in a worn hoodie with curly black hair stepped up to the counter. “One coffee, please.”

“Iced or hot?’

“Hot. And black.”

“Five dollars and ten cents.”

The girl laid a few bills and a handful of coins on the counter. Claire sighed and pulled them toward her to count them out.

“You’re thirty-seven cents short.”

The girl shrank in on herself. “Oh.” She scooped the money into her hand and started to shove it into her pocket.

Claire surprised herself by grabbing her arm. “Hey.”

The girl jerked her arm out of Claire’s grip. “I’m just leaving.”

“No, it’s fine. I can pay the rest. It’s just a few cents.”

Eyebrows knit and posture closed off, the girl handed the money back. Claire put the money in the till and slipped some coins out of her apron in along with it.

“It’ll be done in a few minutes.”

The girl drifted off to wait at the end of the counter.

When her coffee finished brewing, Claire grabbed a piece of banana bread and stuck it in a bag. She handed both the coffee and the bread to the girl.

She held up the bread. “I didn’t pay for this.”

“Hey, it’s fine. On the house.”

The girl stared. “Why?”

“Cute girls get discounts,” Claire blurted, because of fucking course she never thinks before she speaks. The girl’s whole face was turning red, and Claire was sure she looked the exact same.

“Thanks,” the girl muttered. “I’m just gonna…” She stepped away from the counter like she was going to leave.

Well, she might as well go for it now. “Do you want to go somewhere after this?”

“What?”

“My shift ends in a few minutes. I was just - we could go to the mall, or something.”

The other girl’s tone was dubious. “Like - on a date?”

“Yeah,” said Claire. “You don’t have to, though. I just thought it might be fun.”

“Why?”

Claire shrugged, blushing again. “You’re cute.”

The other girl hesitated.

“It’ll be fun. We could go to the movie theatre and see Love, Simon.”

“Okay.” She held out her hand. “I’m Kaia.”

“Claire.”

“Novak, hurry up! We have other customers!”

Claire pulled away. “Sorry. I’ll be done soon.”

Kaia offered a small smile. “I’m looking forward to it.”

#otrerawrites #spnaubingo #dreamhunter #kaia/claire #coffee shop!au

[draftingtides]

Universe

Square Filled: model!au Ship: Sabriel Rating: G AO3 Summary: Gabriel paints on Sam’s body. Word Count: 1037 Written for @spnaubingo

“Dean saw some of one of your paintings today,” Sam told Gabriel as they got ready for bed.

“Which one?”

“The one you painted on my face.”

“The leaves?”

“Mhm.” Sam pulled on some pyjama bottoms. “He said you should think about photographing them.”

Gabriel scoffed. “Photography? Where would I put it?”

Sam shrugged. “Instagram. You could make your own blog.”

“I’d never find anyone willing to let me paint on them and let me put the pictures online.”

Sam dug his fingers into Gabriel’s side and wiggled them. “What am I, chopped liver?”

Gabriel giggled involuntarily and tried to escape. “No - I - hey, stop that!” The conversation devolved into a tickle fight for a few minutes. It ended with Gabriel triumphant, sitting on Sam’s stomach, mercilessly tickling his armpits.

“Okay, okay, uncle! You win!”

Gabe laughed and laid down on Sam, chest to chest, his head under Sam’s chin.

“Seriously, though, I would love to be your canvas,” said Sam, stroking Gabriel’s hair. “I like it when you paint on me. It’s soothing.”

Gabriel propped himself up on his elbows. “Could I paint on areas other than your face?”

“Like where?”

“Your back. Or your legs. I saw this really cool picture the other day where they painted the model to look like a sunflower…”

“I guess you can paint anywhere as long as it’s not risque.” Sam considered for a moment. “I take that back. You can paint wherever. Just don’t post the risque pictures.”

Gabriel waggled his eyebrows. “Kinky.”

“You love it.”

“Damn right.”

Gabe’s first post on his new blog was of Sam painted like a koi pond. There were no comments on it the first day. Gabriel was a little disheartened, but Sam reminded him that his blog was brand new. It would be awhile before people started to notice it.

The second day, they got two comments.

shutyourup: i love this! it’s super awesome! yesitsme: This is great. Where did you learn to paint like this?

It picked up pretty quick after that. Gabriel posted three times a week, unless they had a lot of free time, in which case he posted as much as he could.

He started painting specials for holidays. On Christmas he painted strings of ornaments on Sam’s face and chest. On Valentine’s Day, he painted Sam’s whole face white, covered it in little hearts, then painted his own lips so he could give Sam a lipstick mark on his cheek.

Gabriel liked most of the pieces he posted, but there was one that was his absolute favourite. He painted Sam like a galaxy, swirling blue and green and yellow. It extended all the way down his chest. He painted Sam’s lips blue and put matching eye shadow on him. It was absolutely stunning. He ended up taking about a billion photos and posted a bunch of them as a set.

That set was what got him noticed.

One night while he and Sam were eating dinner, Gabriel’s phone rang. He picked up. He didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?”

“Is this Gabriel Winchester?”

“Sure is.”

“My name is Alicia Banes. I work for Starting Arts, a magazine that focuses on up-and-coming artists. We saw your galaxy photographs and were very impressed. Would you be interested in an interview on your art?”

“Like, to be in the magazine?”

“Yes. The article would include things like where you get your inspiration, your artistic background, and would feature some of your art.”

“That sounds awesome!”

“Excellent. I’ll contact you at a later date to nail down the details.”

“Cool beans, thanks. This is so cool.”

She laughed. “That’s the spirit. Goodbye.”

So Gabriel showed up outside Starting Arts’ headquarters bright and early a few weeks later, Sam and his portfolio in tow.

The interview went by pretty quickly. Alicia’s brother, Max, was the one running the interview. He was funny, not all stuck up and professional like Gabriel expected him to be.

“Do you have any specific pieces you’d like us to put with the article?”

“I have an idea for one, but it’s not done yet.”

“As long as you can get it to us by the end of the week, we’ll do our best to include it.”

Gabriel leaned over the back of the couch. “So, you know how I said I had a painting I wanted to put in the magazine?”

Sam tilted his head back to look at him. “Yeah?”

“I thought I might paint myself and be in the picture with you.”

Sam broke out in a smile. “That’d be awesome!”

So Gabriel painted Sam to look like a galaxy again, then did the same to himself. Except, when he painted himself, he used black, blue, purple. He put the same blue lipstick on both of them. He painted a black, blue, and purple galaxy emanating from Sam’s mouth out to his jaw and up to his nose, then did the same thing to himself with Sam’s galaxy colours.

“Okay, ready?” Dean asked, adjusting the camera.

“Yep,” said Gabriel. He and Sam got into position. They leaned in and chastely pressed their lips together.

The camera flashed. “Damn, this is great,” said Dean.

Sam and Gabe separated. Gabriel went over to Dean to see the picture.

It was beautiful. Their eyes were closed, but the way they leaned into each other showed how in love they were. Where their lips met, it looked like their respective galaxies were bleeding into the other’s.

Sam came up behind Gabe and hugged him, doing his best not to smudge the paint. “You’re such an amazing artist.”

Gabriel spun around in the circle of Sam’s arms and gave him a quick peck on the lips. “You’re a perfect model.”

“So are you.”

“I painted you like a galaxy because you’re my whole universe.”

Dean pretended to gag. “Okay, enough, go be gross when I’m not here.”

Sam and Gabriel both laughed.

“Get outta here, go be gross with Cas.”

As they were cleaning up the photoshoot setup, Gabriel said, “I wasn’t lying, you know. When I said you’re my whole universe.”

Sam smiled wildly. “You’re my whole universe, too.”

“Flatterer,” joked Gabriel. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

#otrerawrites #sabriel #model!au #body paint #spnaubingo

[draftingtides]

Jukebox in the Corner

SPN Rare Ship CC: Round 19 | otrera-kicks-ass vs. @mariaghost

Prompt: Black Dog

Ship: Sam/Gabriel/Rowena

Word Count: 326

Warnings: N/A

Summary: Sam, Gabriel, and Rowena dance in a diner.

AO3

This, right here, this was heaven. Sitting in a diner booth with Cas, Gabe, and Rowena, sipping chocolate shakes, while Dean messed around with the jukebox in the corner.

Gabriel’s eyes lit up as the jukebox started playing Led Zeppelin’s Black Dog. “Hey, Sammy, dance with me!”

“No way.”

Gabriel pouted. “You’re so boring.” He grabbed Rowena’s hand and dragged her out of the booth toward a small dance floor near the jukebox. “C’mon, dollface, dance with me!”

Rowena rolled her eyes and pretended to be reluctant about it, but Sam could tell by the shine in her eyes that she was having fun.

Gabriel was, without a doubt, the worst dancer Sam had ever met. He didn’t dance to the beat of the song, and he stepped on Rowena’s feet. He was enjoying himself, though. At one point, he dipped Rowena, and the diner’s few customers laughed and clapped.

Dean slid back into the booth, next to Cas. “God, you’re so gross.”

Sam turned his head away from Gabe and Rowena to look at him. “Huh?”

Dean gestured vaguely at Sam’s face. “You’re all lovesick and shit. You look like a puppy.”

Sam flushed. “Shut up, jerk.”

“Go dance with your fuckbuddies, bitch.”

“They’re my partners, not my fuckbuddies,” Sam said, but got up to join them nevertheless.

All I ask for all I pray/Steady rollin' woman gon' come my way, sang the jukebox.

Gabriel let go of Rowena and hip-checked Sam. “Whaddaya say, Sammy? You a steady rollin’ woman?”

Sam grinned and pecked him on the lips. “I’d say so.”

Gabriel smiled at Rowena over his shoulder. “Looks like we’re in luck, babe.”

Rowena kissed Sam’s cheek. “Indeed we are.”

They danced until the end of that song and all through the next one, too.

This, right here, this was heaven. Dancing in a diner with Gabriel and Rowena, Cas and Dean watching and sipping shakes, while a jukebox played in the corner.

#spnrareshipcc #sabrena #mariaghost #otrerawrites #sabriel #samwena

[draftingtides]

Guys I'm posting my TVBB fic next week I'm so excited

#tvbb #otrerawrites #sabrena

[draftingtides]

I Will Make A Law

Written for @spnpolybingo

Square Filled: arranged marriage

AO3

Rating: T

Word Count: 1055

Ship: Sabrena (Sam/Gabriel/Rowena)

Summary: Sam must marry Rowena. He has no problems with Rowena, but someone is missing from their relationship.

Sam pressed his quill to the paper, then hesitated. Closed his eyes. Paused long enough for the ink to blot.

John cleared his throat. “Sam.”

Sam shook himself. He finished signing his name with a flourish, then shoved the paper toward his father. John took it and blew on the ink to dry it, then rolled it up and tied a ribbon around it.

“Prepare yourselves for tomorrow,” was the only thing he said before he left the room.

Sam raised his eyes to meet Rowena’s. “Rowena—”

“I’ll see you tomorrow at the wedding, Samuel.” She left the room, head down and face obscured by her hair.

“Do you, Samuel Winchester of Lebanon, son of John, first in line for the throne, take Rowena MacLeod of Hel, daughter of Olivette, first in line for the throne, to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

Sam licked his lips nervously. “I do.”

“And do you, Rowena MacLeod of Hel, daughter of Olivette, first in line for the throne, take Samuel Winchester of Lebanon, son of John, first in line for the throne, to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do.”

“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

With trembling hands, Sam cupped the back of Rowena’s neck and brought their lips together for a chaste kiss. It was wonderful, just like kissing Rowena always was, but something was missing. There was no third presence near them, no one making lewd jokes, no one sidling up behind Sam to kiss the back of his neck. Sam and Rowena broke apart, and Sam saw his own grief reflected in Rowena’s eyes.

“All bow, in honour of Prince Samuel and Princess Rowena Winchester!”

The wedding guests all dropped to one knee. “Prince Samuel and Princess Rowena!”

Sam’s eyes flickered over to the foreign ambassadors. They were kneeling, like all the other wedding guests, but one bowed head stood out.

The guests all stood. Prince Gabriel of Heaven met Sam’s eyes for the briefest of moments, then looked away.

Sam tried to ignore the sudden stinging sensation in the corners of his eyes. He cleared his throat and stepped forward. “As begins the relationship between Lebanon and Hel, let begin the festivities!”

Everyone cheered. The bards began to play their instruments. Some people went off to dance, others went in search of food. Everyone was having a grand old time.

Except for three people.

Sam was making his way over to Gabriel when Gabriel’s cousin Balthazar intercepted him.

“Samuel! A pleasure to see you again. How does it feel to be a married man?”

“Hello, Balthazar. I feel marriage will do me well.” Lie. “How are you?”

“I’m lovely, lovely… I am a bit confused, though. Why is it that you are first in line? Whatever happened to your brother?”

It amused Sam enough to calm him down a bit. “Dean? That’s old news. He ran off with a peasant boy, Castiel. They come to visit every fortnight.”

“Ah! Forgive me, I have been away for quite a while, news doesn’t travel quickly to the places I went.”

“Brothels?” Sam guessed.

Balthazar winked and clapped Sam on the shoulder. “Precisely. We’ll have to chat later, but I do believe I see Lady Fate looking rather lonesome in the courtyard…”

He wandered off to seduce some noblewomen.

Sam caught sight of Gabriel disappearing into the hedge maze. He followed him as quickly as he could do without looking suspicious. No sooner had he entered the maze than Gabriel threw his arms around him and kissed him like he was a drowning man and Sam was air. All Sam could do was kiss him back until he let go.

Their lips separated with a little pop. They leaned their foreheads together.

“I’m sorry,” Gabriel whispered. “I had to. One more time.”

Sam tightened his hold on Gabriel’s waist. “Don’t talk like that.”

“Why?” he snapped. “We both know we’ll never be able to be together again. Not now that you’re married and about to be crowned king.”

“Maybe I don’t care.”

“And what of your father? He most certainly will. He’ll think we’ve made of his kingdom a laughingstock, where kings are disloyal to their wives and seek the company of other men in their place!”

“So we wait until he has passed,” Sam argued. “Or we make it very clear that the three of us are equals, and neither you nor Rowena simply tools for pleasure.”

“If we could only marry more than one,” wished someone who had just walked into the maze.

Sam and Gabriel sprang apart, but relaxed when they realized it was only Rowena.

“If only,” agreed Gabriel, and kissed her passionately.

The threads of an idea were forming at the back of Sam’s mind. “Soft,” he said, “I am soon to be crowned king. My father’s reign is soon to end.”

“Indeed,” said Rowena, raising one eyebrow. “What are you plotting, Samuel?”

“I can make a law,” he blurted, idea springing fully formed to the from of his mind. “Once I am king, I may make any law I wish, and I will make a law to allow a person to marry more than one other. We may all marry each other, and live in bliss for the rest of our lives.”

Gabriel’s mouth hung open. “Is that possible?”

Sam laughed, loud and joyous. “Why ever not? Nothing can stop a king!”

“But what if there are laws preventing such a thing?” worried Rowena.

Sam waved his hand impatiently. “I will abolish them immediately. Nothing will keep us apart. We will live how we have always wished.”

“Oh, Sam, you wonderful thing!” exclaimed Rowena, and kissed him ecstatically.

“We will have to keep it a secret until after your coronation,” warned Gabriel, “but… I think this might truly be the end to our problem.”

“Let’s consummate our marriage,” said Rowena. “Right here, in the garden. You and Gabriel and I, all three of us.”

“But we are not yet married!” said Gabriel.

Rowena laughed. “What difference does a few months make? Besides, we are married in our hearts.”

“Not in the garden,” said Sam. “Father might come across us.”

“In our room, then. Come, let us celebrate!”

Celebrate they did, and for quite a few hours at that.

#otrerawrites #spnpolybingo #sabrena #sam/gabriel/rowena #royalty!au #medieval!au #arranged marriage!au #sam winchester #gabriel #rowena macleod

[draftingtides]

The Accidental Rescue Mission

AO3

Rating: T

Word Count: 1004

Tags/Warnings: Major s13 spoilers, is not nearly as fun as the title sounds, mild hurt/comfort, pre-slash sabriel, does it count as a coda if I wrote it before the episode?

Summary: Asmodeus kidnaps Sam, and Sam finds someone he thought was dead.

Notes: Another "let's rescue Gabriel" fic for y'all, bc I love these. Inspired by the promo pics for s13e17.

Sam couldn’t believe what he was seeing. If he hadn’t been handcuffed, he probably would have rubbed his eyes in disbelief. Because Gabriel was dead. He’d been dead for eight years. Yet there he sat, small and shaking, on the floor by Asmodeus’ feet.

“It’s been brought to my attention,” said Asmodeus, “that the grace of an archangel is needed to open a portal to the alternate dimension. Unfortunately, an archangel is also needed to use the archangel blade. Which means I need two archangels.”

He paced by his throne, looking pensive. “I originally planned to use Gabriel to murder Michael, but his grace is so pathetic, I don’t even know if he can use the blade any more. That, Sam Winchester, is where you come in. I need a test dummy, and killing you would be so very satisfying. It’s a win-win situation.”

“Yeah, win-win for you,” Sam shot back, mind racing. There were no easily accessible exits nearby, which would be bad even if he didn’t have to fight his way through several demons and a Prince of Hell. Gabriel was in no shape to fight. He didn’t even know if Gabriel would be on his side.

“That’s all that matters,” said Asmodeus. He picked up an ornate wooden box on his throne and opened it. He took out a knife that Sam assumed was the archangel blade. He handled it almost reverently - well, as reverent as a fallen angel could be.

Asmodeus snapped his fingers. Gabriel got clumsily to his feet. Asmodeus handed him the blade and pointed at Sam. “Kill him.”

Gabriel walked slowly over to Sam and stared at him. His eyes were dull.

Sam thrust his whole body up into a standing position. The guards lost their grip on his shoulders, and Sam kicked one in the gut. The other three rushed forward, but Sam dodged behind Gabriel. Gabriel made a muffled noise and slashed wildly with the blade. It caught one of the demons in the shoulder, and she screamed in pain.

Gabriel swung again. She collapsed. Another demon slammed Sam into the wall. Sam headbutted him. He staggered back and dropped like a stone. The first demon punched Sam in the face. Sam grunted and kicked him. He fell on Gabriel. Gabriel stabbed him in the back of his neck.

Sam flew through the air and crashed into the wall. Asmodeus held him there effortlessly while he surveyed the scene. Three of the demons were dead on the floor. The fourth was nowhere to be seen. Gabriel was clutching the archangel blade and kneeling on the floor.

“So it does work. Good to know,” said Asmodeus. “But you’re still breathing, Winchester.” He grabbed Gabriel by the back of his shirt and dragged up so he was standing. “Kill him.”

Gabriel stared at Asmodeus, then stabbed him in the heart. He was dead before he hit the ground.

Sam stared at Gabriel, panting from exertion. “Gabriel? Do you… do you know who I am?”

Gabriel sank to the ground and buried his face in his arms. His shoulders hitched almost violently, and Sam was sure that if his mouth wasn’t sewn shut, he would be audibly sobbing.

“Right,” said Sam. “Right.”

First things first: get his hands free. There was a cart with a platter of medical instruments on it next to a cabinet. He didn’t want to consider why. He grabbed a long, thin implement from the tray and picked the lock on his handcuffs. He rubbed his wrists and looked around the room.

There were no demon guards rushing into the room, which was a good sign. He pulled his cellphone out of his back pocket and found that it was working and had service - also good.

Sam got on his hands and knees and crept over to Gabriel, like he was a spooked animal. He kept his voice quiet and gentle. “Gabriel? Can you understand me?”

Gabriel dragged his head up and stared at Sam with bloodshot eyes, uncomprehending.

Sam reached out a hand. “Can I touch you?”

When Gabriel didn’t protest, Sam carefully pried the blade from his fingers. Gabriel let out a shuddering sigh and slumped over again. Looked like Sam was going to have to carry him. He hoisted him over his shoulders in a fireman’s carry. It probably wasn’t very good for his injuries, but his injuries would be a lot worse if he stayed where he was.

It was shockingly easy to escape after that. There was a suspicious absence of demons in the hallways - Sam suspected the fourth guard had deserted and warned everybody else to do the same. Made thing easier for him, at least.

It turned out they were being kept in some type of abandoned building - a prison, maybe, or a factory. Sam set Gabriel down on the front steps while he called Dean.

He picked up immediately. “Sammy! What the hell hap-”

“Asmodeus is dead,” he cut in.

“Whoa, wait, what?”

“It’s a long story. Just, can you come pick me up? I don’t know where I am, you’ll just have to track my phone.” He glanced at Gabriel, who was laying limp on the stairs. “Can you bring Cas?”

“You hurt that bad?” Dean’s voice was equal parts fury and concern.

“I’m fine,” said Sam. “One of the other prisoners is hurt pretty bad, though. They, uh -” he swallowed “- they sewed his lips together.”

Dean swore. “Oh my god.”

“Yeah. Hurry, okay?”

“I’m on my way.” He hung up.

Sam sat down next to Gabriel. Gabriel opened his eyes a little and watched him. “Dean’s on his way,” Sam told him. He didn’t know if Gabriel was even capable of understanding him right now, but on the off chance that he was, Sam wanted him to know. “Cas is coming with him. He can heal you.” He moved some errant strands of curly, matted hair out of his face. “You’ll be safe soon.”

Gabriel closed his eyes, and tears slid down his cheeks.

#otrerawrites #spn spoilers #s13e17 #gabriel #gen fic

[draftingtides]

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Supernatural Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Gabriel/Sam Winchester Characters: Gabriel (Supernatural), Sam Winchester, Castiel (Supernatural) Additional Tags: Season/Series 13 Spoilers, Post-Episode: s13e17 The Thing, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, There's no plot, just hurt/comfort Summary:

What happens after Dean and Ketch go to bizarro world, and Sam is left alone with Gabriel.

#otrerawrites #spn spoilers #coda spn 13x17 #sabriel

[draftingtides]

Complicated Past

Written for @spnpolybingo

AO3

Rating: M

Ship: Dean/Cas/Jimmy

Word Count: 1099

Square Filled: Castiel Dean Jimmy

(Warnings and fic under the cut)

Warnings: Sibling Incest, brief blowjob scene at the end

Usually, when Dean greeted his husband, Cas didn’t answer, “You know Castiel?”

Dean stared at him for a good few seconds. “You are Castiel.”

Castiel laughed and shook his head. “I’m Castiel’s twin, Jimmy.

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Cas’s never mentioned a brother.”

Jimmy shrugged. “Cas doesn’t open up to many people. There’s probably a lot about him that you don’t know.”

Dean crossed his arms, unimpressed by Jimmy’s excuse. “He tells me more than you’d think.”

Jimmy nodded with a small smile on his face, like he was just agreeing with Dean to placate him. Nothing incensed Dean more than people being condescending towards him.

“I’m his husband.”

Jimmy teetered backwards on his heels like the shock of that statement was a physical blow. It made Dean irrationally pleased.

“Oh. I wasn’t… I didn’t know that was legal in Lebanon.” He cleared his throat. “I mean no offense by my shock.”

“None taken.” Dean regarded him carefully. “Are you not native to our country?”

“I recently left Heaven in favour of a new beginning. I was growing quite bored of my old life.”

“I see. Why is it that Castiel has never spoken of you?”

Jimmy shuffled his feet absentmindedly. “I don’t know. Cas is a strange fellow. I assume you know where to find him?”

“I do, yes.”

“Can you take me to him?”

“No.” When Jimmy opened his mouth to protest, Dean held up one hand in a stop gesture. “Not until I’ve spoken to him about it. I don’t know why he’s avoided you for so long, but it seems likely that it is not for a pleasant reason. I must ask you not to contact us until Castiel says otherwise.”

“Do you trust me?” Dean asked Castiel late that night, when they were curled up around each other in bed. “Enough to tell me anything?”

Cas ran his fingers up and down Dean’s arm idly and said, “Most things.”

Dean stared at the ceiling. “Why not everything?”

“Some things aren’t mine to tell.”

“Like Jimmy?”

Cas went stiller than a statue, his fingers coming to an abrupt halt and squeezing Dean’s bicep. “What did you say?”

“Jimmy, your brother. Your twin. I met him in the market today and thought he was you.”

“What did he tell you?”

“That he’s your brother. He wants to see you.”

Cas groaned and buried his face in Dean’s chest.

“Cas, why can't you just explain why you've never told me about him? I'm your husband. We're supposed to trust each other.”

“It's not that simple,” Cas snapped. “Jimmy and I… we have a very complicated past.” He rolled onto his back and rested his hands on his stomach. “I was not born in Lebanon. My birthplace is Heaven.”

“Why did you leave?”

“We were exiled.”

“Exiled? What did you do, Cas?”

Cas covered his face with a pillow.

“Promise me you will not think any less of me.”

“Nothing could ever make me think less of you.” “Swear it.”

“I swear it on my life.”

Castiel pressed the pillow even harder against his face and mumbled something.

“What?”

He threw the pillow aside. “We committed lewd acts.”

Dean couldn’t help it; he laughed. “That’s your big secret?”

Cast glared at him. “With each other.”

“Oh.” Then it sank in. “Oh.”

“Do you understand now?”

Incredulously, Dean asked, “You fucked your brother?”

Cas’ cheeks flushed a deep red colour. “You don’t have to be so crude.”

“But that’s what you did.”

Cas hid his face again.

Dean propped himself up on one arm. “Cas, hey, I’m not mad.”

“You don’t understand! He’s the reason we aren’t married!”

Dean’s face fell. “What?”

Cas let out a sob. “I still love him. I love you both so, so much, I can’t choose. I don’t want to. I want you both.”

“You love him?”

Cas rolled out of their bed pulling the sheet around his waist. “I’m so sorry, Dean, I’ll leave-”

“No!” Dean jumped up and grabbed Cas by the shoulders. “No, Cas, please don’t leave. I’m not mad.” The lie tasted like ashes as it rolled off his tongue. “We can talk to Jimmy. I’m… we’re grown men. We can learn to share. Just please don’t leave.”

Cas covered Dean’s hands with his own, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open a little. “Are you being serious?”

“Castiel. You are my whole world. I’ll do anything to make you happy.”

Cas dropped the sheet completely and threw his arms around Dean in a hug. “Thank you, oh, Dean, thank you!”

Jimmy moved into their house. They told everyone that he was staying there to get back on his feet after escaping debt.

He slept in the guest room. Cas always went to bed with Dean, but Dean saw the way his eyes wistfully followed Jimmy into the guest room. Sometimes, Dean woke up early and found that the other half of the bed was empty and cold.

Dean hated Jimmy. He took up Cas’s time. He was loud. His jokes were terrible.

Well, okay, his jokes weren’t that bad. Sometimes it seemed like the whole world was a joke to Jimmy, and he only let certain people in on it. Usually, he only shared it with Cas, but every so often he smiled at Dean in a way that made him think he wanted Dean to share the joke too.

He wasn’t going to lie, Jimmy was hot. He was another Cas, how could he not be? But it wasn’t as if he would ever get to see him like that. Aside from the occasional, completely accidental voyeurism. He especially looked very hot while riding Cas’ cock. And the sounds he made…

But Dean thought he’d been pretty good about not letting Cas and Jimmy know he’d watched them, which was why he was surprised when Cas and Jimmy sat him down at their kitchen table and Jimmy said, “We know you have been watching us."

Dean flushed and rushed to explain, but Cas held up a hand to stop him. “Dean, it’s fine. We don’t mind.”

“Quite the opposite, in fact,” quipped Jimmy. “We want to know if you would be open to joining us.”

Dean didn’t think his face could turn any redder. “All three of us? Like, together?”

Cas raised an eyebrow. “Only if you are comfortable with it.”

“Holy shit, yes.”

They left the kitchen not long after their clothes left their bodies.

Yeah, okay, thought Dean as he sucked Jimmy’s cock, maybe I don’t hate him. I don’t love him though. Absolutely not.

#spnpolybingo #otrerawrites #dcj #destiel #deanjimstiel #i posted this on ao3 like two weeks ago #idk why it took me so long to post it here