Stuff I write.
Proof that I post things here that don’t end up in other places.
This is from something I started writing back in September where Loki!Gabriel has Sam bought to him as a sacrifice. I’m still in two minds over this overall and I’m not sure where it should go because Sam refuses to cooperate with the enslaved to Loki sex and instead keeps trying to make a run for it. There is an epic Dean who’s trying to find his brother and slave!Castiel who wants to find the pagan God on orders from heaven and kill it. They team up to do just that.
If this did ever go anywhere then I would call it ‘Valhalla, I am coming’ because I love Vikings and Led Zeppelin.
Loki tipped his head first one way and then the other, examining the floppy-haired young man that had been chosen for him. He was a very pretty thing, but tied up as he was, it was impossible to really get the measure of him. But there would be time enough for that later.
"Wakey wakey," The demi-god said, fingers grazing over the boy's jaw. He wasn't much more than a boy really, even with those muscles. "There's a rich looking monastery just on the horizon. Don't want to miss that do you?"
Sam opened his eyes and remembered. Not very much and not very well but he remembered. There had been the pounding on hands on the door and everything had happened so fast. He had been grabbed, dragged to the floor and then someone had hit him on the back of the head. Everything after that was a blur of colour and sound.
He'd seen snow, had the sensation he was being dragged somewhere, carried and there were voices but he didn't know what they were saying. Must have been from another horde. No one would dare attack Dean's brother; they would never attack a son of John, their most feared chief. So it had to have been outsiders unless Dean was having him killed which Sam doubted. He had no interest in becoming a ruler and Dean loved him.
His whole body ached and as Sam tried to sit up he realised that his body was bound, preventing him from moving. He closed his eyes, head throbbing and concentrated on the man talking to him, letting out a harsh little laugh. “Who are you?" He questioned his captor. "I am Sam, son of John." That should at least give his kidnapper something to consider.