Back to J100 - the Insane Set
Title: It's Just a Jump to the Left...
Author: nevcolleil
Fandom(s): SPN/AtS (Another edition to my Daddy!Wes stories. Use my tags to find more.)
Challenge#: 088 of the insane set :p
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: all kudos to Kripke, Whedon, et. al.
Notes: these are for my claim of Wes/Supernatural over at joss100.
“Come on, Dad, it’s just a jump to the left… Okay, now you’re right…”
“If you start singing the Hokey Pokey again I am emptying your trust fund.”
He could picture Dean’s grin clearly.
“Thought we already used that on gear and ammo.”
“Ah. And now you see why.” Wesley spoke but his mind was focused on the haphazard path before him. He had only the soft gurgling of lava and Dean’s voice to guide him around the perilous cracks in the floor of the lightless room.
Dark lava. It wasn’t the most original use of magic as a security measure, but it was certainly effective. Wesley could give Cyvus that.
When he was safely on the other side of the chamber, Dean met him with a hug and a laugh. Wesley took a moment and a few calming breaths, smiling finally, at the red lines the ultraviolet goggles had left around Dean’s eyes once he’d removed them.
“Let’s make a note, shall we? No more battling evil, dimension-traveling sorcerers without at least two night goggles.”
Dean nodded. “Yes, sir.”
[end.]
Title: Several Species of Small Furry Animals Gathered Together in a Cave and Grooving With a Picture
Author: nevcolleil
Fandom(s): SPN/AtS (Another edition to my Daddy!Wes stories. Use my tags to find more.)
Challenge#: 003 of the insane set :p
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: all kudos to Kripke, Whedon, et. al.
Notes: these are for my claim of Wes/Supernatural over at joss100.
“Unpredictable” the shopkeeper had said, and “unpredictable” was right.
None of them were immune to the curse and it affected them each in a different way. Connor lost the ability to speak. He could only make low, feral noises and - inexplicably - the occasional high-pitched giggle. Wesley kept the other boys well away from him. The curse had effected Connor’s judgement, also, and giggling had always made Connor irritable. He huddled near the rear of the cave, watching everyone with wary distaste.
Wesley made a mental note to clean the premises of every hint of thestral root they could find. He wanted never to be without it again - hiking to the top of a bloody mountain every time he needed it, with a trio of boys, was not an option. And trying to perform complicated magic at the top of said mountain, with a trio of magically-altered boys, was not an experience Wesley ever wanted to repeat.
“That doesn’t look like a cibulium - not even a bit,” Dean sung. “It’s not my fault you can’t draw - stop poking me you little sh-”
“Dean!” Wesley scolded.
Dean pouted. The curse had made him quite temperamental. It had also made him unable to communicate through anything but rhyming song. A fact that Sam relished no end.
“Sam, keep your pencil on the paper and out of your brother’s ear.”
Wesley wasn’t sure whether it was a good or a bad thing that Sam could only communicate through pictures. It made his translating Wesley’s spell book challenging (as he was the only one among them who could still read) but it also helped forestall the bickering that would occur once Dean realized what Sam had compared him to after he’d grown fur.
Wesley prepared the potion his spell book offered as the most likely cure for their predicament, working slowly so that he didn’t spill any of the ingredients. It was difficult to use his mortal and pestle now that he and the boys had all shrunken so much smaller than their natural size. Also, the fur didn’t itch so badly when he avoided fast movements.
“If we get out of this cave,” Dean sang glumly. “Human once more -
Sammy, I swear - I’m never taking you to another frickin’ occult store.”
Sam narrowed his eyes and scribbled something on his paper. Wesley quickly covered it with his hand, sighing. He didn’t have to be able to read to guess what the word was.
From his corner, Connor giggled. Then growled.
[end.]
Author: nevcolleil
Fandom(s): SPN/AtS (Another edition to my Daddy!Wes stories. Use my tags to find more.)
Challenge#: 088 of the insane set :p
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: all kudos to Kripke, Whedon, et. al.
Notes: these are for my claim of Wes/Supernatural over at joss100.
“Come on, Dad, it’s just a jump to the left… Okay, now you’re right…”
“If you start singing the Hokey Pokey again I am emptying your trust fund.”
He could picture Dean’s grin clearly.
“Thought we already used that on gear and ammo.”
“Ah. And now you see why.” Wesley spoke but his mind was focused on the haphazard path before him. He had only the soft gurgling of lava and Dean’s voice to guide him around the perilous cracks in the floor of the lightless room.
Dark lava. It wasn’t the most original use of magic as a security measure, but it was certainly effective. Wesley could give Cyvus that.
When he was safely on the other side of the chamber, Dean met him with a hug and a laugh. Wesley took a moment and a few calming breaths, smiling finally, at the red lines the ultraviolet goggles had left around Dean’s eyes once he’d removed them.
“Let’s make a note, shall we? No more battling evil, dimension-traveling sorcerers without at least two night goggles.”
Dean nodded. “Yes, sir.”
[end.]
Title: Several Species of Small Furry Animals Gathered Together in a Cave and Grooving With a Picture
Author: nevcolleil
Fandom(s): SPN/AtS (Another edition to my Daddy!Wes stories. Use my tags to find more.)
Challenge#: 003 of the insane set :p
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: all kudos to Kripke, Whedon, et. al.
Notes: these are for my claim of Wes/Supernatural over at joss100.
“Unpredictable” the shopkeeper had said, and “unpredictable” was right.
None of them were immune to the curse and it affected them each in a different way. Connor lost the ability to speak. He could only make low, feral noises and - inexplicably - the occasional high-pitched giggle. Wesley kept the other boys well away from him. The curse had effected Connor’s judgement, also, and giggling had always made Connor irritable. He huddled near the rear of the cave, watching everyone with wary distaste.
Wesley made a mental note to clean the premises of every hint of thestral root they could find. He wanted never to be without it again - hiking to the top of a bloody mountain every time he needed it, with a trio of boys, was not an option. And trying to perform complicated magic at the top of said mountain, with a trio of magically-altered boys, was not an experience Wesley ever wanted to repeat.
“That doesn’t look like a cibulium - not even a bit,” Dean sung. “It’s not my fault you can’t draw - stop poking me you little sh-”
“Dean!” Wesley scolded.
Dean pouted. The curse had made him quite temperamental. It had also made him unable to communicate through anything but rhyming song. A fact that Sam relished no end.
“Sam, keep your pencil on the paper and out of your brother’s ear.”
Wesley wasn’t sure whether it was a good or a bad thing that Sam could only communicate through pictures. It made his translating Wesley’s spell book challenging (as he was the only one among them who could still read) but it also helped forestall the bickering that would occur once Dean realized what Sam had compared him to after he’d grown fur.
Wesley prepared the potion his spell book offered as the most likely cure for their predicament, working slowly so that he didn’t spill any of the ingredients. It was difficult to use his mortal and pestle now that he and the boys had all shrunken so much smaller than their natural size. Also, the fur didn’t itch so badly when he avoided fast movements.
“If we get out of this cave,” Dean sang glumly. “Human once more -
Sammy, I swear - I’m never taking you to another frickin’ occult store.”
Sam narrowed his eyes and scribbled something on his paper. Wesley quickly covered it with his hand, sighing. He didn’t have to be able to read to guess what the word was.
From his corner, Connor giggled. Then growled.
[end.]