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Fic: Call Me Mr. Fix-It!
Title: Call Me Mr. Fix-It.
Fandom: Supernatural.
Pairing: Sam/Gabriel. (With a smidge of Dean/Castiel)
Rating: R
Word count: 9858
Spoilers: 7x2.
Warnings: Some bad language.
Feedback: Yes please.
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything even remotely related to Supernatural.
Beta: Mithrel. Thanks, dear!
Notes: This was written for the Sabriel Everlasting Birthday Challenge. For Shi_mo. Have an awesome birthday!
Summary: Prompt: “S7. God resurrects Gabriel to fight the Leviathans. S/G romance ensures.” Which became a story where the leviathans are tentacle monsters, God’s back at the wheel and Gabriel realizes in hindsight that being dead for real sucks big time. Picks up just after Castiel dragged his leviathan-y ass into that lake.
Diaphanous
Diaphanous [adjective] light, delicate, translucent
Pairings/Characters: Sam/Gabriel
Rating: Um, PG, I guess? I don’t know. Everything is NC-17 and non-NC-17 to me
Genre/Type: Wing!fic. Bit of h/c, I guess.
Bright blue light from the full moon shone through the open window, bathing the room in its glow. The curtains rustled in a gentle breeze that caressed Sam’s exposed skin and cooled it except where Gabriel curled on his chest and stuck to him with drying sweat. The human drowsily dragged his fingers through flaxen hair, smiling and peering down at Gabriel through half-closed eyes when the angel hummed and nuzzled his nose against Sam’s chest.
(Source: cheekilyflirtatious)
Dawn’s Sabriel Week Playlist
This is kind of a hodgepodge, but I thought I’d share the songs that inspired the stuff I wrote this week. I always write with music in the background and my iPod is basically one giant Sabriel playlist, but I narrowed it down to my favorites. I realize this is a lot of songs, but I promise I DID narrow it down. NOW WITH DOWNLOAD LINK!
Warning: A lot of these songs are pretty angsty, but more often than not I’m sobbing over my Sabriel feels than anything else, so most of my songs reflect that. Some are fun, though.
These are in no particular order, although “Since You’ve Been Around” might be my favorite. The ones with stars next to them are the ones for which I wrote audio post fanfiction this week.
Lyrics and Youtube Links Below
Susurrus
Susurrus [noun] a soft murmuring or rustling sound
Rating: G
Pairing: Sam/Gabriel
Genre/Type: baby!fic (non-adoption, type (mpreg, egg!fic, etc) unclear)
Words: 749
Living life as a hunter had given Sam a rather odd sleeping schedule. He could sleep through blaring car horns, trains, or loud-mouthed drunks, but if someone tried to pick their lock he was awake immediately. His sleep schedule was deeply ingrained, and the list of oddly quiet things that woke Sam up hadn’t changed since he was a teenager, until early last week.
Soft mumbling pulled Sam gently into consciousness. When he opened his eyes, he noticed a soft light on down the hall through the open door. Rubbing his eyes, Sam pulled himself out of bed and padded to the newly decorated room. In the middle of the room, Gabriel stood with his back to Sam, rocking slightly back and forth. The angel spoke softly in a beautiful, melodic language.
(Source: cheekilyflirtatious)
A Very Winchester Easter? (SPN Fic) (sorta AU)
The Winchesters liked Easter.
It had nothing to do with indecent amounts of chocolate or pastel-colored eggs; not even “Fluffy bunnies, Samantha! You wanna name one “Snowball” and keep it in your duffel?”
No, the Winchesters liked Easter because, usually, nothing happened on Easter. Sure, Sam theorized that a few tiny, fairly insignificant pagan gods got a little juice for their batteries to last another year, but the brothers had never encountered any on their hunter radar. On the grand scheme of “things going to shit because of the fucking APOCALYPSE,” a couple of pagan gods were barely on the list. Bigger fish, you know.
Sam and Dean usually spent the week leading to Easter and that day just holed up in some shitty motel. Dean, never one to pass up another go at rotting his teeth, would get himself a bag of small chocolate eggs and a box of marshmallow Peeps while Sam would do something girly, like laundry, or some shit. They had an unspoken agreement to not go looking for a hunt during Holy Week; it was just asking for trouble.
Well, more trouble.
That’s how the Winchesters usually spent Easter. But that was before the freaking angels.
“Dean.” Castiel is abruptly standing in the corner of the motel room, near the window, which has heavy, ugly green curtains. He flicks a wrist towards the shades and the fabric parts with a sswwsshh and blinding morning light.
“Ughh, piss off, Cas.” The large bundle of sheets on the left bed draws into itself, further away from the window. An answering groan sounds from the other bed. Sam’s shaggy mop of hair disappears under the blankets. “Go ‘way.”
Castiel’s mild expression doesn’t change. With another flick, Dean’s blankets are on the floor. Dean shoots up with a yelp. “What the hell, Cas?!”
“Today is a very important holiday,” Castiel says, seriously. “And several beings of lesser importance will endeavor to strip Easter of its sanctity for unholy gain.”
“Is this about the pagans?” Sam speaks up tiredly, “Cuz if it is, just let them be; Jesus, they’re not doing any serious harm.” Dean makes an intelligible noise of agreement, flopping back down on the mattress.
From where Sam’s half-sitting up in bed, hair still everywhere and mussed with sleep, Castiel seems to straighten minutely, square his shoulders and tuck his chin down, as if expecting a physical fight to break out. A sudden chills breaks out on Sam’s neck. Sometimes he forgets that quiet, small Cas is really Castiel, an immense, incomprehensible being whose mere existence is literally blinding. But before Sam can even begin to formulate an adequately apologetic response, there is an almighty CRACK! that wakes both Winchesters up for good. A storm of confetti promptly drowns the room in pastel strips of paper.
“Who’s up for some egg-dyeing!”
Sam groans and lies back down with a thump, throwing an arm over his eyes. Dean, on the other hand, swears colorfully, goes for his handgun, and squeezes off five shots in the general direction of the cheery shout.
The bullets turn into jellybeans on their way to Gabriel’s mouth.
“Tut, tut, Dean-o! Think of the neighbors!” the second angel reprimands, grinning. Castiel turns to his brother with a frown. “Cas! As much a Debbie-Downer as ever, eh?”
“Gabriel,” Castiel says gravely. “Assist me in rousing the Winchesters for Easter.”
“Interesting word choice,” the Archangel laughs, musingly. “I’ll let you get Dean up, if you know what I mean. He’s your chucklehead charge, not mine. I’m lucky I got the smart Winchester.”
“Fuck you,” Dean says, but there’s no real heat in it. Sam feels Gabriel bounce on the foot of his bed. “Up and at ‘em, Sammy.”
“Gabe, tell Cas that he’s disturbing our DAY OFF,” Sam tries to stress from under his arm. “You should know, best of all, that there’s no point in going after the tiniest sect of pagans on a day like this. The majority of the worship is, shocker, going to the Christian powers that be. The pagan birth and fertility gods are getting barely any devotion these days. It’s not worth it, man.”
Sam’s arm is lifted from his face. Gabriel smiles down at him. He seems different. “Oh, see, I get that, kiddo. Like you said, no one knows better than me. But I’m God’s Messenger, Sammy, and I am the one to announce when the party’s started!”
Sam glances over at Castiel, who looks like Gabriel’s just popped his life raft. “Celebration feast day, Cas! My pagan ways are behind me, and I say let’s party like Cana!”
That’s it. Sam peers at Gabriel again. He’s definitely glowing, just a tiny bit. He turns. So is Castiel. It’s Easter. Of course. Dean notices too, just a few seconds behind his brother. “Dude. Cas. Are you leveling up?”
“I… don’t unders-“
“Yes,” Gabriel interrupts. Six golden-brown wings explode of nowhere, clap Castiel around the shoulders and disappear again before Castiel can even stumble. “Little Bro here will be all powered up by the end of the day. Good thing, too.”
Dean breaks into a wide smile as his angel guardian sits heavily on his bed, off balance from an Archangel form of a hearty back slap. Dean slings an arm around Castiel’s thin shoulders.
“Cana, huh?” Dean says. “You wanna refresh our memory?”
Gabriel lights up like a freaking Christmas tree. Golden light spills into the room like food coloring in a glass of water. Sam grins and lets the light wash over him. Gabriel stands as Sam swings his long legs out of bed.
“Would I ever!”
A snap, and the Winchesters and their angels are gone, leaving only a flutter of confetti behind.
cliff-edge of your affections(1/2)
Thanks so much to nileflood for the prompt!
cliff-edge of your affections (freefalling never looked so good)
“They’re golden, Dean. Like, not hazel or anything. Seriously, golden.”
“Mm.”
“You’re not listening,” Sam says, exasperated.
“No, I’m listening,” Dean says through a mouthful of burger.
“Whatever, just…what’s up with you?” Sam asks, dismissing the topic because he’s obsessing, he knows he’s obsessing but seriously- golden.
I Wanna Be Your Lover - A Sabriel fanmix by Gabi.
Tried to hit 3 birds with one stone : completing sweet Lali’s request, also makes a contribution to Sabriel Week 2012 (the end of it, really) and delivering you this baby on Easter !
Happy Together - Simple Plan
Candyman - Christina Aguilera
Love - G. Love
I Wanna Be Your Lover - Prince
King Of Anything - Sara Bareilles
Chu Chu Lovely Muni Muni Mura Mura Purin Purin Boron Nurururerorero - Maximum the Hormone
First Lady - Julien Doré
Always All Ways (Apologies, Glances and Messed Up Chances) - Lost Prophets
Dream A Little Dream Of Me - Mamas and the Papas
Bambous - Caravan Palace
Gives You Hell - The All-American RejectsI could write a whole page about why I picked those songs for this, but I believe the purpose of a fanmix is for you to listen to the music accordingly to the pairing and let your own imagination roll.
I hope you’ll appreciate !
(via threeheadedking)
Author: mia6363 (text)
Reader: rhaiwk
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Sam/Gabriel, Dean/Castiel
Length: 49:07
Summary: The night Gabriel sat down across from him, Sam had been looking for life’s answers in a stained napkin.
April 7, 2012
susurrus || [noun] || a soft murmuring or rustling sound
~
The last thing Sam expected was a small angel on his doorstep. A little baby boy with pure white wings and a tuft of brown hair and eyes like molten gold, settled softly in blankets in a basket on the doorstep outside the motel room. There was only one explanation for this.
“So help me dad, Lucifer. I will call Michael on you if you don’t leave us alone!”
“But he has such a pretty faaaace, just let me touch itt.”
Aww yeah, contributed something to Sabriel week yeah.Yeah, I kinda rushed this one so I apologize for everything »
inb4 someone says something about Gabriel’s height: he’s standing on his box, okay
And I guess you can call this; Sabrielifer.
Or Samifabriel.
Whatever tickles your fancy.
(Source: malchidael)
Rockstar!Gabriel/Lawyer!Sam AU
“What are you doing in my house, Gabe? Last time I checked, you don’t have a key”“Just needed someplace to play, kiddo- didn’t I tell you about that summer I spent learning how to pick locks?”
“No, you left that out of your life story. Are you staying for a while?”
“Uh- yes. So… while I’m here, we should definitely fool around”
“Sure, it’s not like I have a case to prepare for anything-“
“Oh good, c’mere”
*sex*
Meanwhile, in the Music Room, a Sabriel Fanfiction
More from my High School AU! I think if I have time tomorrow, I’ll write up my little headcanons. For now, I give you: when Gabriel met Sammy.
“Fuckin’ stupid ass dick bag brothers…”
Gabriel was in a bad mood, to say the least. He had a burning desire to just destroy something. There was one snare drum in particular that he had his eye on that he would’ve loved to kick into the wall. It was sitting in the corner just laughing at his pain. Hell, if he didn’t have as much respect for musical instruments as he did, the music room would’ve been destroyed by now.
Gabriel stormed over to the offending instrument. “Shut your face, you stupid cheeky-” He stopped in his tracks. “Drum… I’m yelling at a fucking drum…”
Gabriel groaned. It had been a long day. Still was. Michael and Lucifer were at it. Again. Weren’t twins supposed to get along? And Raphael wasn’t helping. In fact, he was doing nothing about it, as usual. It’s like he wanted them to fight. Well fuck you Raphael, you’re adopted, Gabriel thought bitterly.
Shortbus
Oh, I just couldn’t resist.
Synopsis: Gabriel thinks he is just that bit too short.
Gabriel didn’t often take notice of his height, even though he was quite small. He didn’t really notice it, with all that raw power tied up inside his little vessel. He only ever really felt small standing next to Sam, who was now doubling as his lover as well as his co-work. Well, co-apocalypse-averter would be a more apt title, but try saying that three times fast.
Gabriel had come up with many cunning plans to best Sam in the height department and all of them had failed. Levitation took a lot of work to maintain and he couldn’t do it when they were “going civilian”. You’d be surprised at how many people ran and screamed when they saw a man (or at least a man-shaped being) levitating in the candy aisle. Expanding his vessel, which Sam likened to dragging the corner of an image in Microsoft Word, made Gabriel look strangely out of proportion, his shoulders too wide of his legs and his torso too big for everything else. The stiletto heels were hard to walk in, even with his angelic powers, and, if the looks that sleazy guy outside the diner was giving him were anything to go by, they made him look like a hooker. So Gabriel had reached a standstill. He decided to do whatever he did whenever he felt down – he went to a circus. He was munching on some cotton candy when a shining light approached him.
It was on stilts.
He bought a pair and zapped himself right outside Sam’s motel. He made sure he had his balance, then rapped on the top of the door, the lowest point he could reach.
Sam opened the door to see a significantly taller Gabriel than the one he was used to.
‘Oh. Hello.’ Sam greeted him. ‘You’re… tall.’
‘They’re stilts, Sam!’ Gabriel exclaimed in excitement. ‘They’re tall and perfectly acceptable to wear in public!’
Sam frowned up at Gabriel. ‘Well, yes, there’s that but…’
‘But what?’ Gabriel asked, a little upset that Sam didn’t think his latest plan was utterly flawless.
‘But I can’t kiss you if up there.’ Sam said simply, and Gabriel thought that may be the most convincing argument he had ever heard.
Suddenly the stilts had disappeared and Gabriel was at his normal level. Sam bent down and his lips met Gabriel’s and it was perfect, just the way he liked it.
Okay, so maybe there were some upsides to be short afterall.
(Source: mishacollins-tongue)
“Babysitting”; domestic!Sabriel drabble
My girl was watching a scary movie and she asked me to tell her something pretty and cute to take her mind off of it. I think she meant something like, “You’re beautiful and I love you” but that just didn’t cut it for me. She’s got a thing for babies (especially Bobby John from 6x02) and domestic fics, so I texted her this. Yeah. Texted. At 160 characters a pop. Let it be said that I am nothing but a dedicated, loving, doting girlfriend. Figured I’d post this for Sabriel Week, even though I’m a little late. :3
“Uncle Sammy! Uncle Sammy!” came the tiny voice and Sam spun around from where he was seated at his desk just in time to catch little Mary as she hopped onto his lap.
“Hey there, Munchkin. How can I help ya?” he asked cheerily, shifting her on his lap like Santa Claus.
“Bobby John’s being mean to me!” she wailed and Sam frowned.
“Is he now? What’s Bobby John doing?”
“He was pulling at my curls!”
Sam put on his best sympathetic look and smoothed down Mary’s said curls, bright and corkscrewed. “Well, Munchkin, Bobby John’s your big brother. Big brothers often tease their little siblings.”
Mary sniffed, bottom lip sticking out. “Really?” she asked, fiddling with the hem of her dress.
“Really,” Sam nodded wisely.
“Does Daddy ever tease you? He’s your big brother…”
Sam had to laugh. “Of course he teases me! He teases me all the time! But I’ll tell you a secret,” he added, lowering his voice to a whisper. “A little sibling secret that only little siblings like you and me can know.”
Mary’s big blue eyes widened like saucers and she leaned in, eager to learn this divine knowledge of younger siblingtude.
