Bonus Round 1
Nov. 17th, 2012 11:58 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
centrumlumina posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
srs2012You better promise me I’ll be back in time...
Welcome to our official bonus round one. Bonus Round 0 is now officially closed! Don’t worry, though – BR0.5 is open for one more week alongside this round. This time, the theme is historical settings.
If you have an idea for something you’d like to see, please leave a time period, the characters involved and any other details as a PROMPT below. Then read through everyone else’s prompts, and leave a FILL for any which catch your eye. Fills can be in any media, and they need not be long, but please put a little effort in – if anyone starts spamming this post for points, we’ll be able to tell.
You should place PROMPT/FILL, your current team affiliation and a brief summary in the comment title. NSFW prompts and fills should mention this in the summary or at the top of the post.
You will be awarded five points per prompt for the first five prompts you leave. The first three fills posted for each prompt will receive 15 points, the next three 10 points, and the next three 5 points. Prompts with ten or more fills will no longer receive fill points.
You can post prompts or fills for any ship this round, including gen/platonic ones (which should be indicated with an & as above). However, you may not fill your own prompt. We also encourage people not to fill prompts from their teammates, although the points will not be deducted if you do.
Bonus round fills can include links provided they are publicly viewable. Works can also be cross-posted to other websites, as there is no anonymity requirement in bonus rounds. However, works posted directly to comments will be limited to 16,000 characters by the Dreamwidth comment limit. Longer works should therefore be divided between multiple comments.
Remember, Team Chuck can participate in bonus rounds, and if you change teams, points earned will transfer with you until the end of the team shuffle period.
Edit: This round is now closed. You may still leave fills if you wish to, but no further points will be awarded.
PROMPT: Any, Regency AU (Team MotW)
Date: 2012-11-18 03:10 am (UTC)FILL: Bela/Charlie, Regency AU (Team Castiel/Dean/Gabriel/Sam)
Date: 2012-11-21 03:38 pm (UTC)"Apparently, we are 'a symbol of the moral degradation of this age'."
Charlotte groans. This is not her first night sleeping on silk sheets, but she doesn't think she'll ever be accustomed to the feeling, and she'd like a few more moments to relish it before being dragged back into the world of gossip her other half so enjoys. "Are we now."
"Oh yes. 'Decadent'. 'Flagrantly sinful', even." There's a rustle of fabric, presumably from the extra swish Bela does when she crosses her legs when she's feeling particularly pleased with herself. Why she's wearing any clothes at all, Charlotte doesn't know.
She hears a fwip of paper turning, then, and after that a protracted silence, broken only by the sounds of the town below their window. That's not right. Bela should still be gloating, even if it means interrupting Charlotte's sleep. She sits up, pushing her hair away from her face, and turns to see her lover looking pale in the firelight, where earlier she had been rosy-cheeked, flushed with success.
Charlotte can only read a little, for all that Bela has tried to teach her (she does better with her hands, with locks and doors and dark places and secrets), but she can guess who the article's sympathies are being given to.
She stands, tamping down the rage that threatens to end in broken objects (probably the delicate vase on the bedside table, but it's Bela's aunt's, she mustn't, she must show respect here), and moves to kneel beside her. "What else does it say?"
"That he's been ruined. That he has nothing left, and that they hope the law finds me and returns to him everything that is rightfully his."
Charlotte's lips thin into a line. "They won't."
"No, of course not. The arm of the British government hardly extends as far as the Dordogne, not for a merchant without the money to pay them."
But the snap to her voice says otherwise. Charlotte knows better than to hold her, not when her father is the subject of conversation, even now they're here, but she does reach out a hand. It settles on Bela's shoulder, light as anything, and after several long moments, she reaches out to take the paper, too. Bela lets her, and she takes it as permission to throw the damned thing on the fire where it belongs.
"He is ruined," she tells her mistress, her lover, her everything as she moves to curl beside her once more. "And you are free."
Bela's exhale sounds almost like a sigh. It takes time- a long time- before she relaxes beneath Charlotte's touch, before she can be coaxed back under the sheets, but the smile on her face when she finally does lights up the room.
PROMPT: Crowley/Lilith, Civil War (Team Michael/Lucifer/Gabriel)
Date: 2012-11-18 07:19 am (UTC)PROMPT: Eve/Lilith, Gene...sis? (Team Adam/Lucifer/Michael)
Date: 2012-11-18 09:54 am (UTC)FILL: Eve/Lilith, Eve and Lilith Sitting in a Tree (Team Castiel/Lucifer)
Date: 2012-11-19 05:08 am (UTC)One day, she has some downtime (allowing her second-in-command Crowley to collect the contracts) when she comes across a jungle in South America and she feels a pang in her chest. It reminds her of her first home. Eden. And while she doesn't regret the decision to walk away from being subservient, there are some things she misses about it. No, not something. Someone.
Eve.
Even now, eons later, the name still sends a tendril of longing down her spine. Lilith still remembers the fateful day that they had met.
Lilith had been curled up with a python (whom she later found out was Lucifer, but that isn't relevant) and decided to see if the almighty God would smite her if she dared enter the garden. When she got there, she found it unguarded. Seems that even if you're all-powerful, you still have shitty security.
She's picking some fruit from the trees when she hears a faint sound. Frowning, she moves cautiously towards it. She walks into a clearing to see a woman kneeling by a lake, whistling tunelessly (later, much much later, Lilith will hold a contract for a famous classical composer and he will call the tune Moonlight Sonata and instead of taking his life in ten years, she steals his hearing instead)as she splashes her feet in the water.
The python wrapped around her hisses (later she will learn that this is Lucifer's way of telling her to go say hi) and Eve turns at the sound.
Lilith smiles at her and introduces herself. She does not know how she knows how to speak, but she does. Eve looks at her and smiles shyly,before introducing herself with her name, as well as saying that she is the wife of Adam. Lilith scowls, that was her position first. She feels rage twisting inside her like the serpent she wears. Lilith may not have wanted it, but knowing that she is that easily replaced angers her.
They talk until the sun starts to set and Eve says she has to go back to Adam so he does not worry. Lilith can barely conceal her snort and she sends Eve off on her way.
They meet a few times after that, always running into each other, never planned. Lilith feels herself having feelings for this woman, the beautiful and innocent Eve. She supposes that this is what she left for. Freedom to fall in love with whomever she chooses.
One day, she kisses Eve. Her lips are softer and fuller than Adam's had been and they taste like honey. Eve's gorgeous brown eyes are wide with shock and Lilith is hit with something she cannot name but feels like it's choking her. Eve's lips curve into a smile that makes Lilith feel warm inside. They spend the time until sunset licking and kissing and sucking each other's bodies and for the first time since she walked out of Eden, Lilith feels like things might turn out okay.
When they next meet, Lilith is picking apples. She offers Eve the apple and a choice. Run away with me, she pleads, let us rid ourselves of this Garden and this God, who has no affection for us yet made us. Or, stay and live in bliss for eternity (in truth, she does not know how long Eve will live, but she says what she must)with Adam and never see me again. Lilith does not tell Eve that she fears getting caught because God may not be merciful a second time.
Eve says yes and they agree to meet tomorrow at the lake where they first met. Lilith wakes to a commotion. Eve and Adam are wandering around, clutching leaves to themselves and sobbing. They are also holding hands. Another one of those feelings hits her and she is suddenly in tears. She feels the cool body of the python slither up hers and he curls around her and whispers of what happened. How Eve tried to go, but Adam stopped her and asked what was going on.
How God had suddenly appeared and cast them out. How they now only have each other.
The serpent offers to go find them for her and she declines. Eve made her choice in the end.
She does not eat nor sleep for days and one day, she begs the python to bite her. He agrees and instead of succumbing to the heaviness behind her eyelids, she finds herself awake and full of rage. She turns to the spot where the python was and sees only an angel. The most beautiful one she's ever seen.
A tingling within her brings her back to the present and Lilith recognizes it as Crowley summoning her. She reverently touches a tree before vanishing on the spot. Her last memory is of her lover and lord Lucifer promising her that as soon as he's free, he will bring Eve back.
She ignores the instinctive, demonic part of her saying that he lied. Lucifer may not like humans, but he loves Lilith. And she wants her lover back.
When she finishes with Crowley, she looks down to see that her hands have some dirt on them from the tree. She rubs them together and thinks, soon my love. Soon.
Re: FILL: Eve/Lilith, Eve and Lilith Sitting in a Tree (Team Castiel/Lucifer)
From:FILL: Eve/Lilith, A Sheep Has Left the Fold(Team Ash/Jo)
From:PROMPT: Castiel/any, American West (Team Castiel/Dean/Gabriel/Sam)
Date: 2012-11-18 10:37 am (UTC)I'd love it if Castiel was also a little bit of an outcast from his tribe, but of his own volition, so he lives in the offskirts of their territory, away from the others.
PROMPT: Gabriel/Sam, Greek mythology (Team Castiel/Dean/Gabriel/Sam)
Date: 2012-11-18 02:22 pm (UTC)PROMPT: Castiel/Dean, Benny/Dean, Greek mythology
Date: 2012-11-18 02:25 pm (UTC)PROMPT: Gabriel/Lucifer, assassins during the Middle Ages (Team MotW)
Date: 2012-11-18 03:11 pm (UTC)FILL: Gabriel/Lucifer, assassins during the Middle Ages (Team Lucifer/Sam)
Date: 2012-11-24 05:16 pm (UTC)Link to Tumblr post [x]
Re: FILL: Gabriel/Lucifer, assassins during the Middle Ages (Team Lucifer/Sam)
From:PROMPT: The seven kingdoms; Michael/Lucifer, (Team Lucifer/Sam)
Date: 2012-11-18 04:20 pm (UTC)Northumbria looked to extend it's reach further north into Scotland, lead by Michael, the first son of Bernicia. Lucifer was the eldest of his clan, trying to defend it's borders against the encroachment, but with the arrival of the Vikings, Scandinavian conquerers on the eastern shore, the two might have to put aside an age old feud and band together to protect the land and the people they love.
[Also. Men in kilts. That is all.]
PROMPT: HMS Warrior; prison ship, Lucifer/Cas (Team Lucifer/Sam)
Date: 2012-11-18 04:30 pm (UTC)Convict Lucifer Novak is to be transported to one of the penal colonies in Australia from Woolich on the HMS Warrior. The journey is long and arduous, but he befriends one of the jailers, Castiel. On arriving, he manages to 'escape' (with slight assistance), returning ten years later with a source of much intrigue. Does he share his new found wealth, or will the secret of gold in Bendigo die with him.
Castiel/Lucifer, Battle of Solferino 1859, (Team Castiel/Lucifer)
Date: 2012-11-18 04:31 pm (UTC)PROMPT: Templique Solomonici, [Any pairing of brothers?], (Team Lucifer/Sam)
Date: 2012-11-18 04:40 pm (UTC)Members of the order of the Pauperes commilitones Christi Templique Solomonici (Knights Templar), the order of the Temple were sworn and bouncy by duty to protect the interests of the Catholic church. A command is given to two brothers to undertake a journey and place it's most precious artefact, the Sangreal (holy grail) in a secret place. The task only becomes harder when they have to choose ~ one of the brothers must stay behind to watch over it for the rest of time...
PROMPT: Michael/Dean; Renaissance (Team Gabe/Luci/Mike)
Date: 2012-11-18 06:46 pm (UTC)Bonus for including mention of another model being used for Satan ;]
PROMPT: The Roadhouse, Wild West (Team Ash/Jo)
Date: 2012-11-18 07:25 pm (UTC)PROMPT: Dean/Bela, 1920s (Team Ash/Jo)
Date: 2012-11-18 07:37 pm (UTC)FILL: Dean/Bela, 1920s (Team Anna/Ruby)
Date: 2012-11-23 04:26 pm (UTC)Hope you like it! :)
Re: FILL: Dean/Bela, 1920s (Team Anna/Ruby)
From:Re: FILL: Dean/Bela, 1920s (Team Anna/Ruby)
From:PROMPT: Sam/Lucifer (OR Sam&Lucifer), 1930s (Team Castiel/Dean/Gabriel/Sam)
Date: 2012-11-18 08:18 pm (UTC)Something about him draws Sam in though, whether it is pity or curiosity or something else entirely, he makes the mistake of getting too close to the quietly intimidating convict.
The mistake in my head is either getting too close romantically/platonically and having to strap him into the chair and flip the switch himself, or something sinister if that's your bag.
Fill: Fic, Can't Cage the Devil (Team Gabe/Mike/Luci)
Date: 2012-11-19 05:23 am (UTC)Triggers: Character Suicide
-----
Sam Winchester had started his job prepared for anything. He’d dressed in the crisp new uniform, tailored just yesterday to fit just right, and showed up bright and early. Everything about him was an ordered perfection. His buttons and shoes shined just right and there wasn’t a speck of anything to be found on the heavy, dark fabric.
But while he was the kid on the block, he was a man not to be messed with.
When he was first led through the row of cells on the ‘grand tour’ the prisoners watched him. They looked for weakness. They called out, rattled bars, did anything they could to spook him, but Sam shot each one a look that told them to watch it, or else. The senior guard was impressed. He went through the rest of the tour with little more than a few annoyances from the prisoners along the way.
“I have to say,” the man said, rubbing his hand at his chin in thought, “You gotta be the first one they haven’t caused a scene for. Let’s hope it stays that way, kid.”
Sam smiled a bit, “They’re just looking for attention, they can’t do anything from in there.”
The guard scowled a bit, “Now don’t be thinking that. They’re plenty trouble when they want to be.”
“I’m sure they can be, but I think this facility manages them better than others.”
“That’s right,” the old guard chuckled, “You from down south, aren’t you? You worked the row before.”
Sam nodded his head. “I have, sir.”
“Heh. I’ve heard that place is a real piece of work. You should be fine around here, just mind the old devil in 17.” Sam glanced at the man curiously. “Oh, Nick Colt. In here for over twelve counts of murder. Crazy bastard if there ever was one. Killed the women and children at some inn out west, made their husbands watch before he tried to kill ‘em too. One of them got away, managed to knock the bastard in the head and go for help.” The guard shook his head. “Crazy bastard.”
Sam glanced down the row of cells, trying to recall passing cell number 17. “Why’d he do it?”
“That’s the thing. Won’t tell a soul.”
x
When Sam does his first solo round of the row, he winds up in front of cell 17 out of curiosity alone. He stands in front of the cell, arms behind his back at ease, and watches the man like you would any caged animal. He doesn’t see the threat. The man sitting inside is quiet, sitting cross legged at the back of the cell. His blonde hair has seen better days, and while he looks like he could be tall, not as tall as Sam but tall enough, he doesn’t look threatening with such a slight frame.
And then Sam meets his eyes.
The shock of frost blue staring back at him wasn’t what he expected, not at all. And the man is watching him, taking in every detail of Sam, just like Sam did him. Maybe making even more notes. He’s got the eyes of…not a hawk. No. He has the eyes of a wolf, eyes that see and calculate in a way that means death for the unlikely creature in his sights.
“Something to say?” the voice that comes out of the man isn’t rough or threatening. It’s soft, and almost regal. He doesn’t need to sound threatening to get respect. His very being seems to demand it from the universe.
It’s not something Sam is used to dealing with when it comes to prisoners, and he had to deal with that bastard Crowley back south.
“Just trying to figure out why cells 16 and 18 are empty,” Sam says, and it’s a partial truth.
“I enjoy talking,” Nick said. “Most of the other prisoners here prefer to keep to themselves. It’s for everyone’s benefit, I’m told. You’re Sam?”
“How do you-”
“The Warden’s very happy to have you, Sam. He came to gloat that we were getting some hotshot from the prison down south to deal with us. It’s only logical that would be you.”
Sam snorts and turns to walk away.
“Do come back later,” Nick calls after him.
x
Whatever possesses Sam to stop in front of Nick’s cell each time he does a round is beyond him. He barely converses with any of the other prisoners. Of course, they all shriek and curse obscenities at him. Nick only ever wants to talk.
They talk about a number of things. Sometimes Sam asks him about the other prisoners. Other times Nick asks him about the outside, for updates on a world he’ll never see again. But every time Sam walks away, he has the inkling feeling Nick is playing him somehow.
“Why are cells 16 and 18 empty, Nick?” he asked again one day a few weeks later. “And don’t give me this shit about you being too chaty.”
Nick smiled, and Sam knew story time was on the way. “Do you know what they call me?”
“Crazy?”
The smile faltered for a brief moment before he shook his head. “Not that. They call me Lucifer, the angel with the silver tongue, betrayer of God. Cells 16 and 18 are empty because the two men who last resided in them killed themselves.”
“What does that have to do with you being the devil?”
“They killed themselves because I wanted them to.” Nick pushed off of his cot. His bones cracked with the movement, and yet he still moved with a fluid grace to the bars of his cell. Pale hands grasped the iron bars, and he leaned in close. “I told those filthy cockroaches to kill themselves, and they did. I didn’t like their company, you see. That fool Gabriel wouldn’t shut his trap and Robert’s self loathing made me want to drive nails into my ears with the hopes I’d never hear either of them again. So they and I had a little chat.
“Do you know how easy it is to suggest? To manipulate a man with a weak spirit? Especially ones that already hate themselves.” A smile curled on his lips, but his voice never broke his usual soft tone. Sam’s horror only seemed to encourage his story. “It was simple. It took me one week. Gabriel caused a scene with the guards, forced them to draw their guns. And Robert gave up, stopped eating until they took him off to medic and he never came back. It’s simple, Sam, to make a lesser man do as you wish. So very simple.”
Sam had never fled that particular corner of the jail block so quickly.
x
Sam lied awake in his bed that night. He cycled through every conversation he’d had with Nick. He analyzed everything ever said between them. Nick had just admitted to manipulating people, to using nothing but his words to kill from within his prison cell. How could Sam trust anything the man had ever said?
The next day he didn’t have his usual with chat. He passed right by Nick’s cell after a quick check in glance, and felt somehow unnerved that the man didn’t try to stop him, but just watched him go.
“The hell are you playing at?” he muttered under his breath.
x
“I don’t like you,” Sam said bluntly the next time he stopped in front of Nick’s cell, several days after their little story time.
“Most people don’t, but I thought we were getting on so well.”
“Shut up.” Sam steps closer and misses the flicker in Nick’s eyes as he does so. “You’re an infuriating bastard. You act all high and mighty, like you’re above everyone, but look at you. You’re just another prisoner with an ego.”
“Is that how you think of me, Sam? Do you think that I consider myself above you?”
Sam scoffs. “You’ve made that clear.”
“Then you misunderstand me. I know I’m better than the rest of the rats in these cells, but you and I, Sam, are equals.”
“I’m nothing like you.”
“Aren’t you?” Nick stands once more and stands to bring their eye level closer together. “I saw you when you first walked through here. The way you looked at the prisoners, the way you looked at the guard. You thought everything was beneath you. That you would be out of here with a promotion and a raise in no time because it’s owed to you, isn’t that right?”
“That’s a lie.”
“I don’t lie. I observe. And I’ve spent every day you’ve been here observing you. Do you know what I see, Sam? I see someone who can be a king among men. There are very few people in the world who command attention by simply being, Sam. We are two of those men.”
“No. You are a murderer. And I’m just here to stop you.”
“You’re here because you think this little guard job is the first step to something greater. You want to protect people. Such a noble crusade for one man.”
“How do you know why I’m here?”
“You’re a king among men, Sam, but you read like an open book.”
Sam growls and reaches through the bars, grabbing a fist full of Nick’s shirt and yanking him forward. The prisoner is unsteady when he’s yanked and falls against the bars, wincing hard as his face is banged into the metal. “You know nothing about me,” Sam hissed. “I don’t know what devil you were taught about as a boy, but the one I know is nothing but a liar.”
“So familiar with the devil, Sam? I expected as much from you.”
Sam growls and shoves him back through the bars, watching him stumble again before he turns and storms off.
He’s done with Nick, with Lucifer, with whatever the fuck he wants to call himself. No more.
x
It’s not until he tries to get into his office does he realize something is wrong.
It’s the graveyard shift and Sam is the only one on duty right now. So while the office should be dark and silent in his absence, there’s light spilling from beneath the door and music playing from the radio. Sam reasons that Warden Harvelle must have come in early, the man keeps erratic hours.
He pushes open the door and sees no one. What he does see are a set of keys lying on the desk. He reaches down to pat his waist, no keys. Sam never forgets his keys, they’re always on him, even when he’s in the office. He whips around just in time to get a face full of grinning Nick before a heavy wooden plaque straight from the office wall is smashed into his head.
Sam zones in and out of consciousness. He’s aware of his body being moved, but he has no control of it. His head falls forward when he’s sat in the office chair, and he’s vaguely aware of the shackles from the cabinet being locked into place on each wrist and ankle to the study chair.
When he finally gets his wits about him, Nick is sitting across from him on the edge of the desk, spinning the barrel of a revolver, Sam’s revolver, in his hand. The metal clicks once the gun is ready and Lucifer finally looks up. “There you are. Hello, Sam.”
“How did you-”
“You never get that close, Sam. That was a rookie mistake. But I know. Rage can be quite blinding.”
“Harvelle’s going to be here any minute,” Sam says, the lie falling off his tongue easy enough as the music continues to play in the room. “You think he won’t shoot you for this? You let me go and go back quietly and no one has to find out you got out.”
“You mean, no one has to find out you messed up,” Nick corrected, pointing the barrel of the gun casually in Sam’s direction. “They’re going to know I got out. Not a surprise there.”
Sam’s hands clenched. “What are you going to do?”
The man smiled at him. “They set the date, you know. I have six days and four hours before they decide it’s time to stick me in front of the firing squad. You’d get to watch. Hell, they might even give you a gun and let you shoot.”
“Nick. What are you going to do?”
“Or maybe you’d get to come in after they carted me out. Maybe you’d get to be the lucky soul that washes the blood off the wall for the next guy.”
“Nick.”
“Sam. Now would be a good time to learn when to shut up,” the man whispered, still smiling with the gun in hand. He sighed and twirled the gun. “I don’t regret it, the murders. Gabriel. Robert. That bitch Eve Roman and the guests of her roadside shit hole. I don’t regret a damn thing.” He held the gun firmly in his hand and looked at it. “I do regret getting caught. Getting stuck in here. I had so many things I needed to do. Could have made this world better, Sam.”
“Better? You’re a killer!”
“What have I killed? Two murderers? A ring of gun traders and their families?”
“You killed children!”
“Who would have grown up wanting to kill me with the pretty guns their mommy collected. I did this world a favor.”
Sam struggled a bit on the cuffs, but they barely budged, quality metal.
“But now what can I do? My face was plastered across the news for weeks after that rat, Dick, got out of his bonds and turned on me.” He tapped his head. “I can tell the good and the bad, Sam, better than any cop or warden can. I observe. I understand. Lucifer was more than just the devil, he was a punisher of evil too, Sam. That’s all I’ve ever done. And now I’m condemned to death.”
“There are other ways to punish evil, Nick. You could have become a cop or a lawyer or joined the military or something. You can’t just kill people to make the evil go away.”
“We’re standing in a jail block for all the evil you want to kill and make go away.”
“Because the law-”
“I do not care about the law,” Nick spat. He moved quickly, suddenly in Sam’s face, hands resting on either of Sam’s arms. “The law did nothing for me. Not when my wife was killed. Not when my son was killed. The law doesn’t do anything!”
“The other guards,” Sam says slowly, “they said you never fought for your case. Why couldn’t you tell them what you told me? There’s still a chance, Nick. You could try to bargain for your life, tell them what you told me. It might lessen your sentence or-”
He laughed. “You don’t get it. You work for the system and you still don’t get it. They will only ever see me as a murderer now. I killed seven others before I got to Eve’s. No one knew. Because they were all known scumbags, no one even cared. But because Dick ran and pleaded his version of the story to them, I was done. And I’ve been sitting in here waiting, and waiting for someone like you, Sam.”
“Me?”
“Someone who would talk to me. Someone who would let me get close enough.” He held the gun up and sighed. “I trust you, Sam.”
“Trust me?”
“I can make a king out of you yet. But to do so, the first king must step down.”
“Nick.. Nick what are you doing?” The chains clanked and jangled as Sam struggled harder, tried to reach out to Nick as he turned the gun to his own head.
“I will die on my terms, by my hand, not by some faceless guard with shiny toy in his hands he barely knows how to use.” His face was perfectly calm, totally accepting of the fact he’d just turned off the safety of the gun pressed to his temple. “You need a reason to protect your kingdom, Sam. Hatred. Loathing. You want to fight but you don’t know what for yet. Here’s to hoping you figure it out faster than I did.”
“Nick! Nick, stop this! Put the gun down and we can-!”
The shot echoed through the room. Blood sprayed the wall and Nick fell dead to the floor at Sam’s feet. Sam was silent, eyes wide and shock painted across his face. This was- How did he- What was he-
Sam’s hands shook, and when he looked down, Nicks bright blue eyes were still open and watching him, a frozen image of the man who’d tormented and fascinated and left him with more questions and trouble than he was worth.
Still chained to the chair, Sam sat there with the devil’s corpse cooling at his feet. His boots slipped with the blood under foot. He could hear the howling of the prisoners over the music Nick left playing and Sam could do nothing. Nothing but sit there and wait and think about everything Nick had told him, trying desperately to figure out what it all meant…
Even in death, Lucifer could manipulate and play mankind like a fiddle. Sam may never be just like the devil at his feet, but he was set up to become a new breed of monster. And all it would take would be a few more hours alone in this room for the first shoe to drop.
Re: Fill: Fic, Can't Cage the Devil (Team Gabe/Mike/Luci)
From:Re: Fill: Fic, Can't Cage the Devil (Team Gabe/Mike/Luci)
From:Fill: Sam/Lucifer (OR Sam&Lucifer), 1930s (Team Ash/Jo)
From:PROMPT: Corbett/Ed; WWI (Team Alan/Ed)
Date: 2012-11-18 09:46 pm (UTC)FILL: Carrying Your Love (Team Ash/Jo)
Date: 2012-11-26 07:24 am (UTC)Carrying Your Love With Me Fanmix
Citzen/Soldier - 3 Doors Down
I'll Be - Edwin McCain
I Won't Give Up - Jason Mraz
Marching On - One Republic
It Doesn't Matter - Alison Krauss
21 Guns - Green Day
Blackbird - Evan Rachel Wood
Ed looked down at his hands, warn and cracked from days in the cold without gloves to protect from the bits of shrapnel and the wear from clenching his gun so tight his fingers would bleed.
Alan slid his own hands over Ed's, palms pressing gently. He brought one up to his lips and kissed it.
"Do you think your army will find you, mon cœur?"
"It's possible."
"Will they hurt you?"
"Not more than I'm already hurt. Don't worry, alright? I won't let them take me."
"But you're a deserter now."
"I said, I won't let them take me."
Alan nodded, knowing it was the best he could do for reassurance.
Their lips met in a soft, passionate kiss and in that moment, they knew the war couldn't tear them apart.
Re: FILL: Carrying Your Love (Team Ash/Jo)
From:Re: FILL: Carrying Your Love (Team Ash/Jo)
From:PROMPT: Gabriel/Sam/Lucifer; Xanadu (Team Alan/Ed)
Date: 2012-11-18 09:54 pm (UTC)PROMPT: Balthazar/Castiel, French Revolution (Team Balthazar/Castiel)
Date: 2012-11-18 11:21 pm (UTC)ART FILL: Balthazar/Castiel, French Revolution (Team Castiel/Lucifer)
Date: 2012-11-25 11:17 pm (UTC)u w u well there goes my weekend.
/shuffles feet <33
PROMPT: Lucifer/Adam; Ancient Aztec (Team Gabe/Luci/Mike)
Date: 2012-11-18 11:47 pm (UTC)Does Lucifer do his job? Does he choose to fall to temptation? Does he fall for the warrior instead? Anything goes. Sorry this god is friggen weird xD I'm a freak?
PROMPT: Dean/Sam, 1910s Hobos
Date: 2012-11-19 12:28 am (UTC)Much love for hobo language or hobo signs to be included!
PROMPT: Gabriel/Dean, 1930s (Team Castiel/Dean/Gabriel/Sam)
Date: 2012-11-19 04:42 pm (UTC)PROMPT: Dean/Victor, Woodstock (Team Castiel/Dean/Gabriel/Sam)
Date: 2012-11-19 07:57 pm (UTC)PROMPT: Gabriel/any (Team Bela/Charlie) Norse mythology
Date: 2012-11-19 08:02 pm (UTC)Fill: Gabriel/any (Baldur) (Team Gabriel/Lucifer/Michael) Norse mythology
Date: 2012-11-22 11:14 pm (UTC)Adventures with Loki
It got a bit longer than I had expected so I've had to split it into two parts, but part 2 will be up soon. Hope this is a good start c:
PROMPT: Gabriel & Raphael & Lucifer & Michael, Narnia (Team Adam/Lucifer/Michael)
Date: 2012-11-20 02:13 am (UTC)If the mods don't feel this fits the theme, then just an AU where the archangels are sent out of London during the Blitz would be great!
FILL: The Angel, the Witch and the Wardrobe (link) (Team Lucifer/Gabriel)
Date: 2012-11-29 07:24 pm (UTC)GRAPHIC FILL: Gabriel & Raphael & Lucifer & Michael, Narnia (Team Adam/Lucifer/Michael)
From:PROMPT: Any/Sam, Victorian (Team Castiel/Sam)
Date: 2012-11-20 03:13 am (UTC)Castiel/Sam - Victorian (Team Dean/John)
Date: 2012-11-22 01:55 am (UTC)The young lady kept her interactions with others brief, but cordial and exquisitely lovely; a smile gracing one here and there, sincere apologise had she be in another's way (that happened twice, Castiel catalogued), but she very rarely opened her mouth to speak and she had a taking to perching her lovely self in the chair by the window. An observer, like he, Castiel mused, as his bright blue eyes bored upon the lady's form, unwavering.
"Are ya gonna sit there all evenin' on ya lonesome or are ya gonna musta up ya courage an' woo that little lady?"
Castiel's head whipped to the source of the southern woman's voice and his face began to redden, being caught. He stared up at the lady nervously and his breath caught a little bit at her beauty, albeit she paled in comparison to the dame across the room; her even more slender of a frame, clad in expensive yellow ruffles. Her huge, bright green eyes that smoldered him accusingly, but playfully, and the teasing freckles that kissed her face.
"Well?" The woman pushed, almost smirking at his bashfulness. "Ma sister would be just plum ecstatic ta have someone ta talk ta, 'specially someone as handsome as you."
Castiel swallowed nervously, briefly noting that either his caravet had shrunk, or his throat was closing up. "I- I am not good with women in the slightest."
She snorts, rather unladylike, Castiel thought, and waves a slender gloved hand in dismisal of the thought, replies: "Aw, naw! She ain't good with men either; I think y'all have a little somethin' in common right here- somethin' ya can't ignore, go on after her! Jus' don' mention anythin' 'bout her height-- poor girlie's real self conscious 'bout it."
Castiel looked up at the woman then over to her sister, and mustered up all the confidence he could afford, and stood.
Dean smiles as he sees his brother's face begin to light up as Castiel awkwardly, but charmingly, makes his introduction.
--
Something clicked that night. Something that made Sam's heart swell every time he met with Castiel; nearly once a week at locations that ranged from dining halls, formal parties like their initial meeting, and the theatre. Castiel gathered the courage one night to place a gentle kiss atop Sam's red lips, and from then on, Sam was enthralled, drunk off of this man. There was no way he could come out of this relationship alive. At this rate, what if marriage pops up in his mind?
"Stop worryin' Sam!" Dean barks as he tightens his brother's corset. Sam doesn't even realise he was rambling aloud until he found that his words caught in his chest in a gasp as the corset wrapped around his form. "Jus' work up to it! It'll be fine."
"Dean, it won't just 'be fine'," Sam remarks heatedly as he rummages for the powder for his face. "Being queer isn't 'just fine'; why else would Dad be protecting us this way?"
At that thought, Sam stops in fear, turning to his brother with a worried gaze. "Dad doesn't know Cassie's been courting me, right?"
"Nope. Jus' thinks ya finally started gettin' all comfy-cozy with who you are, that you're not so scared to go out in public without me any more." Dean's suspender strap droops over his dirty work shirt as he shifts his weight to his other foot as he watches his brother put himself together.
Sam let out a giant breath of relief and returned to applying the powder on his face. The restraints of having to really live his life took a toll on Sam sometimes; having to be a woman to be permitted to skirt around with men. Their father thought of it up when Dean was going through a crisis when he was younger, he was queer, he was gonna go to the Institution all locked up, Dean thought, but their father wouldn't allow that to happen, devised a plan for Dean to pose as a woman whenever he left the house. Allowed him to be mildly queer; he could kiss men, but anything of a sexual nature was forbidden, as it would be quickly clear that Dean was not actually a woman. Dean accepted that, would stick to flirting with men shamelessly, then dump them off for another. It worked. It was safe.
But Sam thought it was a lonely life. But he was thankful for the love their father felt for them to spare them for an even lonelier life to be lumped with the crazy.
--
"I have a confession to make."
Sam looked down at Castiel, as the walked toward the road of her home. "What is it, Cassie, my sweet?"
Castiel paused before guiding Sam to a more private sector of the street.
"I do wish to be brutally honest with you, as you are the only woman I've ever felt my heart swell for.
And I'm entirely thankful that you have came into my life. My brother, he pushed me to go out to speak with others, speak with ladies. Or I was to land in the Institution-- but I didn't want to speak with the ladies."
Sam couldn't breathe.
"But you- you've cured me, Ms. Samantha, my lovely flower. I don't have to leave anymore. And for that, I'm eternally grateful, bless you, Samantha."
"...Cassie-" Sam started as he noted the emotion beginning to pour from Castiel's eyes. "Cassie, dear, there's something I need to tell you, too."
--
Sam stayed holed up in his room in the attic for a week. Dean understood, understood when Sam bounded up the stairs in a hurry one evening, refused to tell anything to their father. Dean didn't want to tell Sam, but he had a feeling this was to happen.
"'m worried 'bout that boy."
"It'll be okay, Dad. It'll be okay."
--
"Ya here for a conjuring?" John's voice was gruff and matter-of-fact as he viewed the young, blue eyed man, not wanting to deal with any costumers in the slightest. Not while Sam was still locked upstairs, nothing for John to do about.
"N-no, I am not here for any supernatural appointmentship, no."
"Then what do ya want, sir?"
"I'm here to see Samantha."
John's eyes widened and his demeanour relaxed. Perhaps he could get some answers about Sam's behaviour? He nodded, something short of flabberghasted, and allowed the man in to be seated at the table, saying he'd fetch his daughter shortly.
"Deanna, we've gotta guest; fetch 'im a brew of tea, would ya please."
--
Approximately 15 minutes later, after Castiel was glared down by Sam's sister (she was perched haughtily in her father's chair, steaming like her cup of tea), after he heard the master paranormal communicator, Jonathan Winchester, pound on a door upstairs and heard some muffled yelling (and then the unclick of a lock, then the reclick of a lock, then some more yelling, a poignant yell of "YOU TOLD HIM WHAT", and some feet scuffling and perhaps furniture being thrown as Dean's glare never wilted), finally did he see John descend the steps, exhausted looking, before he threw a glare upon Castiel as well before retreating to the kitchen. Dean set down his tea and accompanied his father as the man sat there alone. Uncomfortably alone in the paisley-wallpapered dining room where he knew many a ghost was summoned in that very room.
--
Sam felt weird leaving his room without at least a petticoat on.
He felt even weirder when he saw Castiel's eyes widen, heard him gasp.
Sam felt warm when Castiel, his Cassie, Mr. Cassie, stood and rounded the table to get closer to him.
He felt even warmer when he heard Castiel whisper: "You look as beautiful as you did before."
Sam said nothing. Didn't want to ruin anything he might get to save.
"I have come to terms with my thoughts, Samant-- Sam. It took me a while to accept myself, and you."
--
Dean smiles to himself as he sees his brother clad in his fanciest of dresses, walking arm in arm with the man he loves, out the door to the opera.