#Lottie's dad wanting her to be 'fixed' and Sam's dad telling Dean that if he can't save Sam then he needs to kill Sam | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

georgialouisea · 6 years

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Alone Time

Characters - Dean X Reader, Sam. Word Count -1070 Warnings - Swearing, fluff. A/N - Written for @thing-you-do-with-that-thing and @like-a-bag-of-potatoes ' 12 Days of Christmas Challenge. Prompt - Fuzzy Blankets. The bunker was officially the most secure place you knew of, it had enough warding to block any Angel or demon, the security was top notch no one could track your IP address or your GPS, you were all safe and fine.

Halfway through watching home alone your laptop froze, the lights shut off and you heard the heating click off. The storm outside must have somehow knocked out the power which was impossible.

“No!” Throwing your head back in the pillows you groaned. “Guys?” You shouted into the darkness. Rolling over in your blanket you searched the bedside draws for a light, all you had was a lighter and a candle or two. Now you were glad that you had an obsession with candles, whenever you went into a home store you couldn’t leave without a candle or two in hand. Lighting the candle in your hand you began your journey into the darkness, lighting candles as you went, slowly illuminating the bunker.

“Guys!” You shouted again listening for any movement, when silence echoed back you untied the gun from under the war table continuing on through the bunker.

“I’m in the kitchen!” Dean yelled.

“Coming!” You walked towards the kitchen gun raised and candle in the other hand. Rounding the corner you were met with the sight of Dean making a sandwich surrounded by some

candles, completely unphased by the blackout.

“You know we have no power right?”

“Yeah, Sammy is on it, want to go cuddle under blankets?”

“Yes, but we should figure out what’s going on.”

“Sam will and if he needs help he’ll come and get us, besides it’s like a little puzzle for him, want a sandwich?”

“No, I’m good.” You turned using your candle to light the hallway. “I’m going to find Sam and then I’ll be in bed, enjoy your sandwich.”

“Okay.” Dean returned his attention to his sandwich.

“Sammy?” You shouted walking towards the control centre.

“In here.”

“What’s happened?”

“Don’t know but we’re fine, doors still work, air is still pumping, I’ll figure it out.” Sam shrugged.

“Want a hand?”

“No, I’m good.”

“Okay, I’ll be in my room if you need me.”

The heat turning off was the worst part of this situation, every second the bunker got colder. Walking back to your room you were surprised to find Dean already in bed under a pile of fluffy blankets.

“You okay?” Dean raised a brow at you.

“Yeah, I’m good, get in you must be freezing.”

“I will, one sec.” You walked to your dresser pulling out some fluffy socks and a thick cardigan, putting them on you slipped into bed next to him. His arms wrapping around your waist, your head resting on his chest.

“This could be a blessing in disguise.” Dean mumbled into the top of your head before kissing your hair.

“How so?”

“Well, when did we last spend some time alone? No TV, no monsters, no phones, nothing?”

“A while.”

“See.”

“Okay then, what do you want to talk about?” You questioned looking up at him.

“Anything, how was your night out with the girls last week? You were too hungover to tell me then we had a hunt.”

“Really good, Sarah is getting married, Lottie is single again she had a bad breakup, the dick cheated on her, she walked in on him screwing her boss.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah, kinda wanted to pinch him.”

“Should have.”

“Meh.”

“What else?”

“You seriously want to know about my girls night out?”

“May as well.”

“Oh the enthusiasm.”

“I am genuinely interested.” Dean sat up, adjusting you against his chest.

Telling Dean everything he’d missed recently in your life you sat and listened as he, in turn, told you all about his recent nights out with his hunting friends.

“Do you think about the future?”

“What do you mean?” Dean asked.

“Us.”

“Of course I do…”

“And…”

“I see us growing old together, every day I wake up and love how I’m with you, you put up with so much of the shit I do.”

“Because I love you.”

“I love you too.” Dean kissed your forehead.

“Okay one question, when we have kids will you tell them you killed Hitler?”

“Hell yeah! But only when they’re old enough to understand, can you imagine out kid telling his teacher my dad killed Hitler?” Dean smirked.

“Oh God that would be a fun meeting.”

“I know.” Dean laughed. “Wait you said when, not if when…”

“Yeah? Dean, I can’t imagine my life without you, you’re the only man I imagine spending the rest of my life with.”

“Y/N, I love you so much.” Dean spoke shifting further down the bed, his lips finding yours, kissing you as he rolled you over slightly.

Gasping as the cold air hit your skin you pulled Dean close.

“What?”

“Fix the blankets I’m cold.” Dean pulled them up around you, tucking you in.

“Dean!” Sam yelled from down the hallway. “You shut down the bunker so you could cuddle your girlfriend?”

“What?” Dean asked innocently.

“This you dickhead!” Sam rounded the corner and walked up to your bed, dropping the paper on the blankets.

“You did what?” Sitting up grabbing the piece of paper.

‘Sam,

I’ve switched off the power and heat,

give it an hour or 2 and turn it back on?

I want some alone time with Y/N.’

“You had to turn off the heat? It’s bloody freezing.”

“Yeah, gave me an excuse for the blankets.”

“God you’re really something else.” You rolled your eyes at him. “Wait Sam…”

“Yeah?”

“How long did it take you to find the note?”

“This long, he hid it in the damn fuse box … and bolted the damn box shut.”

“Dean, seriously?”

“You two are ridiculous.” Sam groaned. “I’m going to turn everything back on.” He huffed before turning and walking away.

“Why didn’t you just say you wanted some alone time to talk?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well in future just say and we can talk, instead of turning off the damn heat.”

“Sorry I didn’t think it would get this cold.” Dean tightened his grip on you.

Listening to the power and heat click back on you smiled at Dean. “As penance, you can turn on my laptop and play home alone from the start.”

“Really?

“Yes, I still need to warm up.”

“I have much better ways to warm us up.”

Forever Taglist - @mega-loser1298 @smalltowndivaj @roxyspearing @ginamsmith @donnaintx @emoryhemsworth

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SPN Pond Taglist- @dr-dean @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @nichelle-my-belle @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @notnaturalanahi @impala-dreamer @deathtonormalcy56 @samsgoddess @spn-fan-girl-173 @deansleather @curliesallovertheplace @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname @waywardjoy @imadeangirl-butimsamcurious @kayteonline @supernatural-jackles @wevegotworktodo @jpadjackles @quiddy-writes @babypieandwhiskey @deantbh @deanwinchesterforpromqueen @memariana91 @plaidstiel-wormstache @teamfreewill-imagine @chelsea-winchester @fandommaniacx @revwinchester @castieltrash1 @supernaturalyobessed @ruined-by-destiel @winchester-writes @faith-in-dean @winchestersmolder @bennyyh @clueless-gold @deanwinchesterxreader @winchester-family-business @4401lnc @teamfreewill92 @just-another-winchester @canadianjelly

@mrswhozeewhatsis Taglist Dean - @thinkwritexpress-official @itsemmyb @ezauraemmaline @charliesbackbitches @crzcorgi @ellen-reincarnated1967 @littlegreenplasticsoldier @gryffindorable713 @deerlululucy @walkingencyclopediaoffandom @growleytria @thegleegeneration @samtomydeanwinchester @sis-tafics @amaranthinecastiel @fandommaniacx @meganwinchester1999 @kittenofdoomage @samanddeanwinchester67 @ferferelli @iridianuniverse @the-morning-star-falls @ackleslaugh @fangirling-instead-of-working @eyes-of-a-disney-princess @kayteonline @spnsimpleman @mamaimpala @winchesterfiesta @sleep-silent-angel @gadreelsforbiddenfruit @trenchcoats-and-bees @jencharlan @skybinx-blog @thebunkerismyhome @feelmyroarrrr @beachy2014 @fandom-book-nerd @tia58 @sams-little-toy @deansleather @faegal04 @sunriserose1023 @saving-things-hunting-family @winchesterswoonathon @jotink78 @lucifer-in-leather @i-dont-know-how-to-write @everyday-supernatural-af @notnaturalanahi @howmanytuesdaysdidyouhave @babypieandwhiskey @besslincoln-bruh @shelovesallthethings @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish @hexparker @atwistoffate @evilskank-inthemegacoven @there-must-be-a-lock

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femmedplume · 7 years

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POST THE LAST LINES FROM 5 OF YOUR FINISHED WORKS OR WIPs.

tagged by @conjurewithrisk (thanks! :D)

ONE

“They are loyal to me,” Yazi choked.

“Then call them. But first, tell me…who is there to manage the burial rights for you, hmm? Wouldn’t want your spirit roaming the netherworld for eternity, now would we?” His eyes gleamed black in the light of the dying sun.

Yazi went limp. “Forgive me.”

“I can barely hear you, flower,” He growled. “What did you say?”

“Forgive me, master. I – I will send the letter tomorrow.”

“Tonight.”

She closed her eyes. “Yes.”

His fingers flexed, loosened. “You know I do this for you, don’t you? So that you might be queen.”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“I do this,” caressing her neck with one iron-hard finger, “out of my great love for you. Don’t you understand that?”

“Y-yes.”

He pressed a brutal kiss to her lips before releasing her. “There’s my girl.”

Yazi curled up in a ball at his feet, trying to press the misery from her stomach and breathe the pain out of her throat.

- Lady of Khaneya, a high fantasy novel set in an AE African empire. (We’re deep in the throes of twisty-turny, magi-political drama, so don’t take the darkness of this section as indicative of the entire story!)

TWO

The moonlight returned. The wind eased through the window once more.

Still gasping in pain, Pen thrust the long, red thorn triumphantly into the cautious moonlight and the relieved wind, and said three words in the language of ______, which are untranslatable –

– but I will try.

BLOOD OF THE WITCH. SACRIFICE OF THE KNOWING. IMPLEMENT OF CHANGE, said L’Femme d’Plume.

Sangre de Plume, whispered the Pink Pearl rosebush in awe.

“A Blood Pen,” Pen agreed in a trembling voice. “With seven spells in its gift.”

No one has dared create a Blood Pen since the old gods went beyond the Rim of the World, the Pink Pearl said.

“No,” Pen said. “But I dare. Because I must, or I will lose more than myself. And the first spell must be tonight.”

Suiting words to action, Pen took the bloody thorn and wrote across the lintel of the door, around the frame of the window, and in each corner of the room. And then, tired from her exertions, she went to bed; but not before hiding the Blood Pen deep within the twists of her bedframe.

And this is what she wrote, in words that glowed with the fire of deepest magic:

LET NOTHING BROUGHT TO THIS ROOM LEAVE IT WITHOUT MY CONSENT.

And that, dear reader, is how a prison becomes a trap.

- Onyx & Pen, a high fantasy story inspired by a writing prompt. This one’s a little more traditional fairytale, about a witch locked in a tower by the king she helped create. There’s also a heroic cat and a talking rosebush.

THREE

“Best day ever, Dad.” Dean passed the giant slinky he’d exchanged his tickets for from hand to hand. “It was awesome!”

“Awesome, huh?”

“Yeah, this kid at school always says that. It means real good and nice.”

“Does it?” John smiled. “Good to know.”

There was a long pause. “Daddy?”

“Hm?”

“You’re awesome.”

John could barely get the words out around the sudden lump in his throat. “Thank you, Dean. You’re awesome, too.”

And that’s why, years later, Dean always dropped Sam off at Plucky Pennywhistle’s whenever he needed some time away from babysitting –because kids love those places, right?

- Dean’s 6th Birthday, a brief SPN headcanon fic -- because when all your friends are fangirls, you’re not getting away without writing at least one.

FOUR

MAMA HEDDY How did we go from no crime at all to poisoning and murder?

KATE The Barrier. It’s supposed to keep bad influences out of Bellevue, but something’s wrong with it.

POP Can you fix it?

KATE Maybe, if I knew what was wrong. Speaking of wrong, how’s Bobby?

POP Seems fine. Maybe him waking up was just a fluke? Natural immunity?

They look over to where Lottie and Bobby sit whispering. To one side stands Junior, jealous at being excluded.

HARLAN I’m just glad everyone’s okay.

Around them, Bellevue gathers together; a loving community.

MAMA HEDDY We’re alive; don’t mean we’re okay.

KATE What do you mean?

Kids run and play, oblivious to the solemnity of the day. Wives comfort Mrs. Long, who cries and clutches a PHOTO of Sheriff Long. Husbands talk amongst themselves.

MAMA HEDDY Something’s in the air. Can’t you feel it? Darkness has come to Bellevue, child -- and I don’t know if we can stop it.

Kate looks around. The sun is shining. It’s a sad scene, but also normal. So blissfully normal.

For now.

FADE TO BLACK.

END OF EPISODE

- Southern Gothic, an urban fantasy television pilot set in rural Louisiana.

FIVE

Kilane stepped forward and placed a hand upon Kaya’s shoulder.

“This is far too much to take in at once.” He waved at the volumes of scrolls and tomes that surrounded them. “This archive contains the combined experiences of each Aliri-bonded Saint since the war began three thousand years ago. Take as much time as you need to read through them. Weigh their words. Confer with your Aliri. Consider carefully whether you might be willing to give yourself over to our great cause, for it is a dangerous and consuming one.”

“But you will never be alone.” Kafir smiled. “Your Aliri will always be with you.”

That is true. And perhaps--not quite as terrible a fate as I had originally thought, the demon admitted softly. Not quite.

Kilane nodded as though he could hear the demon’s thoughts. “Already you begin to bond, I think. What is her name?”

“Her?” Kaya was startled.

“Of course,” Kilane nodded. “They only seem to bond to one of like sex, so your Aliri must be female.”

“Oh. I--she hasn’t told me.”

P’toli, the demon said after a slightly embarrassed silence.

“P’toli,” Kaya repeated dutifully. She thought for a long moment about what they were offering her. To be a part of this brotherhood would be a dangerous thing. She would have to pull back even farther from her family and her old friends for fear they would learn this even greater secret.

But what about the rewards? P’toli asked softly. We could make a great difference, you and I; we could support the Balance together.

“This morning,” Kaya shook her head, “I was a daughter, a lover, and a friend. But I do not think I can be these things anymore. Not the way I was.” She took a deep, calming breath. “One truth: P’toli and I will be together forever. I cannot imagine living my life bound to someone, knowing I could help them to do the right thing and denying it. I will consider, and I will read first,” she said firmly. “But I think -- I think I could do it.”

And I think, P’toli said after a long pause, I might like to show you my world someday.

- When the Saints, a sci-fi novel I started years ago -- and might pick up again, who knows?

BONUS:

Inside was dim, lit only by the night-candle in the front window across the shop. Curiously, Whitepaw sniffed at the soft fabrics draped and swagged and standing in rolls about the room.

“Hello?” Said a slightly off-key, high-pitched mew. “Hel-looo?”

“Ah, here she comes,” said Greytom.

“Hello?” Descending from the staircase above came the owner of the sweet mewing, her dainty paws seeming scarcely to touch the floor. She peered about the room cautiously, but brightened when she saw them.

“Why, Greytom!” She trilled, still in that off-key tone. “What a lovely surprise.” Her long, silky plume of a tail stood straight up, tip bent in friendly welcome; in the relative dark, her cloud of white fur seemed to glow. She head-butted Greytom with great familiarity, winding herself sinuously along his flank while he tried, and failed, to keep his eyes from closing in pleasure.

Finally, Greytom stood and nudged her face towards the other cat. “Sweet one, this is Whitepaw, the Witch’s cat. Whitepaw, meet Snowfriend.”

“Oh!” Light from the rising moon caught in Snowfriend’s wide blue eyes, and Whitepaw understood; like many cats bred for their beauty, Snowfriend was deaf.

Fortunately, much of the language of cats was spoken through ear twitch, tail and body.

“You have a pleasant scent, Snowfriend,” Whitepaw offered her nose exaggeratedly.

“Oh, and you as well, dear Whitepaw!” Snowfriend touched noses, then proceeded to fuzz her body along Whitepaw’s with genteel enthusiasm. “I am simply honored. Imagine; a Witch’s cat in my couturier! Have you come to find a fabric for your human? I know Witches traditionally love green, but we have a truly fabulous soft-grey brocade that—“

Again, Greytom gently head-butted her until she turned around to face them. “Whitepaw’s Witch has been stolen by the king of Mans. She must go the Big Den to retrieve her.”

- Whitepaw and Cottontail, fantasy short story set in the same world as Onyx and Pen. It’s about cats. CATS.

tagging: @sammit-janet , @jael-paris , @huffleypuffelycas , @oriona75 , @rizlowwritessortof

#writing #high fantasy #fiction #woc writers #long post for ts #thanks for tagging me!#stitch answers a tag #stitch writes a thing #conjure and stitch #sammit and stitch #paris and stitch #twilight and stitch #ori and stitch #cowgirl and stitch

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