Prompt Responses: Gen
Here are the prompt responses that you asked for over here. Since I know that some of you are non-Wincest, I separated the responses into two different posts: one for the gen and one for the Wincest.
These here range from dark crossovers to outright crack. They all are exactly 500 words, as well, so they might feel a bit short because I couldn't go into detail/imagery overload like I usually do. Some of them did end up getting rather long and involved (as in around 1000 words before I had to cut them down shorter to make everybody's equal). But, those long ones did give me some rather interesting plot bunnies that I may turn into longer stories. Thanks to
mellaithwen for her help on one of these.
I really hope that everyone likes theirs.
- - - - -
For
tigriswolf: In the future, Dean and Sam run into Ben. Or, Alec escapes with Ben and the two of them are found by Sam and/or Dean.
(Dark Angel/Supernatural Crossover)
1.
In St. Louis, they retrieved his buried corpse under a full moon. Ben climbed down into the grave for closer inspection while Alec waited above on the grass with shovel in hand. “His face…” Ben explained, lifting a piece of fallen skin with bare fingers. “It wasn’t his. He wasn’t really Dean Winchester. He must’ve been some kind of transgenic shapeshifter. If he wasn’t trying to look like one of us…”
“Then we’ve gotta find the real Dean?”
Ben wiped slimy rot from his hands onto his pants. “We should leave tonight. We have to find him before Lydecker does.”
2.
Alec assumed the asylum in Rockford had been destroyed by the Pulse. Ben argued he wasn’t so sure. Alec said he had heard stories of ghosts walking the asylum’s hallways.
“Well, if Dean’s really dead, we’ll find him here,” Ben replied, while Alec ran his fingers over the black paint of a parked Impala.
“And if he’s not?”
“Then we’ll still find him here. All signs point to this being his car…to him being here.”
“You’re not going to kill him,” Alec said forcefully, and Ben turned to look at him.
“You take the fun out of everything,” he smirked.
3.
They met Dean Winchester in the basement of the asylum. He staggered when he walked, clutching his abdomen, while a tall man walked behind him with apologies on his lips. Both of the ordinary men stopped when they saw Alec and Ben standing in the doorway.
“Shapeshifters,” Dean huffed lowly. “I thought we wasted you back in St. Louis.”
“We’re not shapeshifters, so what the hell are you?” Ben snapped, while Alec held him back with one arm.
“We need to talk,” Alec said calmly, holding his hands open in innocence, “we-both of us-need to know why you…just…how.”
4.
“Dad told me there might be…people like…you,” Dean said calmly outside. “I just never believed him.”
“What did he tell you?” Alec asked.
“He told me about…Manticore? Is that how you say it? Well, my mom was a nurse there, and when she was pregnant with me they wanted to do some genetic work on me. She blacked out one day at work and woke up with scars on her abdomen. She knew they had done something, and she ran.” Dean’s face twitched nervously. “They wanted to, Dad said, wanted to clone me. And you guys? You must be it.”
5.
The men shook hands with seeming politeness, yet Ben and Alec felt they were shaking the hand of their betrayer. The one who had gotten away with freedom, but left his face with them. As the Impala drove into the distance and Sam sat uneasily next to a brother he realized he barely knew, the transgenics got onto their motorcycles.
Dean had his answers that men with his genetics did exist, but Alec and Ben only had questions. Even though both feared they would never find the answers to their piles of squirming questions, they would not rest just yet.
- - - - -
For
mellaithwen: SPN/DA, Dean and Sam are hunting Joshua and run in to a few other transgenics
(Dark Angel/Supernatural Crossover)
1.
“It’s a giant dog.”
“No,” Sam said, shaking his head and sitting down on the bed next to Dean, “it’s some kind of man and dog creature. See?” He pointed to the crinkled tabloid newspaper he had found on a table in the restaurant where he had gotten their breakfast.
Dean squinted, rubbing his tired eyes with the side of his hand. “Where’d it say this thing was?”
“Seattle.”
“That’s at least an eight hour drive.”
“Are we doing anything else right now?” Sam asked, making a sweeping gesture at their untidy motel room.
Dean sighed. “Fine. Seattle it is.”
2.
They found the house that the supposed man-dog was living in without much trouble.
“You think we should knock first?” Sam asked, as Dean checked his gun.
“To what? Ask if we can shoot him in the heart?”
Sam didn’t respond as Dean kicked in the door and burst inside, gun held out front. “Hey Cujo! C’mere boy!”
They entered a room where a man with long hair was singing and painting messily. “Hey!” Dean hollered, and the man turned around to reveal the dog-man. Just as Dean aimed the gun, a flashing shape slammed into him, knocking him unconscious.
3.
Dean woke to the sound of an angry girl’s voice and a headache throbbing through him. When he opened his eyes, a black-haired woman was glaring down at him and Sam. Both of them were tied to chairs with their mouths duct-taped.
“You morons almost shot my friend!” the girl shouted angrily.
Dean tried to say something, but his words came out as a melded squeak behind the tape. Roughly, the girl ripped the tape off his mouth. When Dean said nothing, her eyes widened as if seeing him for the first time. “And who the hell are you anyway?”
4.
At some swanky penthouse, Max told Dean to wait on a couch with words of, “There’s someone you need to meet.”
Hours later, Dean heard the door open. “Now, I want you to try to explain this,” Max was saying, and Dean heard a too familiar voice ask, “Explain what?”
Then, Max appeared in the living room, and Max pulled the man in. “Explain this,” she said, and Dean looked up into his own startled face gaping back at him.
“Well,” the man laughed, “that’s the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen. Anything else you want to know, Maxie?”
5.
“You guys have some nice pieces,” Alec said, admiring Dean’s gun. In the backseat of the Impala, Sam and Joshua talked about a map where a pack of werewolves had been sighted. “So what exactly are werewolves?” Alec asked.
“You’ve never heard of them?” Dean said.
“Nope.”
“Well, then,” Sam replied, “you’re in for a real treat. Josh, you think you’ll be able to smell these guys?”
“Yeah, Joshua can smell anything!” Joshua howled.
“All right, then, boys,” Dean grinned, “let’s have some fun tonight.” As he pressed on the accelerator, the car roared, and next to him, Alec laughed.
- - - - -
For
iamzulma: how about dean and coffee, and snapshots of his life involving coffee?
(Supernatural, Dean-centric)
1.
John sits at the table, hands surrounding his coffee mug and black tie undone. Dean, dragging his blanket behind him, comes up to his dad and tugs on his sleeve. “Daddy? Can I stay here with you? I’m scared.”
John picks Dean up and sets him on his lap. Mary’s funeral is hours behind them, and he still cannot accept the harsh bite of her death. “What are you drinking?” Dean asks, pointing to the mug.
“Coffee,” John responds, and when Dean asks for some, John adds in extra sugar and milk-too much, really-and Dean sips it quietly.
2.
Staying awake in class was hard enough without the added fact that Dean was out until two that morning, chasing down a black dog with his dad. “Can’t I just skip today?” Dean whines, as John pulls up to the school building. “I’m whipped.”
“Here,” John says, shoving a cup towards Dean. “Coffee. It’ll wake you up.”
“But I don’t like black coffee. Gross.”
“You’re not skipping school.”
Reluctantly, Dean accepts the cup. While other students are able to keep their normalcy and sleep, Dean turns to his coffee to fight off the exhaustion that his life brings to him.
3.
In California, the cool kids don’t drink just coffee. They drink lattes, mochas, caramel machiattos, and drinks with unpronounceable names. When he visits the fancy cafes near Stanford in hopes of catching a glimpse of Sam, he feels too out of place to order a black coffee.
So, he tries what is called a “vanilla cappuccino,” and when he drinks it, he hates the way it’s too sweet, too fluffy, too fake, like it’s trying to hide the coffee taste. But, he drinks it anyway and wonders if this is the closest to tasting Sam’s life he will ever get.
4.
Injured after a hunt, Dean struggles to work the microwave in the motel. He has a cup of coffee, cold from sitting in the car while he hunted, and all he wants is to warm it. But, his right arm is completely bandaged, and his left hand is swollen purple sore.
So, he sets the cup down on the table and pulls a straw out of an old cup with his teeth and drops it into his coffee. He sips the cold drink, and it’s not what he wants, but at least it’s something. Something that is better than nothing.
5.
Dad’s missing, and Dean doesn’t know who to call. There are Dad’s friends, but none of them are right. After a long night of pacing, Dean packs his bags so quickly so he doesn’t have time to change his mind.
He orders an extra-large black coffee from the first gas station, and the counter clerk asks if he’s got a long drive ahead of him.
“You have no idea,” Dean says.
He not only has to drive from the east coast to California, but he has to drive across so many years of silence to seek his younger’s brother help.
- - - - -
For
_sapphiredreams:Dean and Sam taking care of an ocean haunting where they have to go out on a boat into the middle of the ocean in a dinky little rowboat. And of coarse we all know how much Dean likes his feet on the ground. It could be a good comedy. Or it could be angst.
(Note to _sapphiredreams: You said comedy, I went crack. My apologies if you look at this and want to bash your face against the keyboard.)
(Supernatural AU)
April 1912
Southhampton, England
Dean crossed his arms and stared up at the ship. “I cannot believe that we have to board this!” he scoffed.
“You saw the reports,” Sam said, stepping out of their car. “There’s a possessed iceberg out there that has already sank other ships. We have to stop the iceberg from attacking this one.”
“Titanic,” Dean grumbled. “Codswallop…”
“Do you have the tickets?”
Dean nodded in response. “Jolly good,” Sam said. “Let’s go.”
- - - - -
Onboard Titanic, Dean paced their suite, while Sam poured himself a glass of champagne. “You must calm down,” he told his older brother. “You’re leaving yourself open to demonic possession. You don’t want whatever possessed this iceberg to transfer itself to you.”
“Bleedin’ Christ. If we don’t find the ‘berg, then we’re going to die.”
“Did you pack the guns?”
“Of course. What do you think I am? Some kind of bloody prat?”
Sam let a smile tug at the corners of his lips. “You really want me to answer that?”
“No…just belt up, all right?”
- - - - -
After dinner, Sam went outside on the deck to gaze out over the black ocean. The wind was cold, and he wrapped his arms around himself.
“How much longer do we have?” Dean, coming towards him and undoing his bowtie, asked.
Sam checked his pocketwatch in response to the question. “The iceberg attacked at about half past eleven. We need to leave here at eleven.”
“And how are we getting there?”
“We’ll steal one of the rowboats.”
Dean’s eyes widened. “Bugger! This is bad enough!” he shouted, motioning to the deck of Titanic. “I can’t get in a little rowboat! We’ll drown!” Dean wiped his hands over his face in exasperation. “I don’t know how I let you get me on here…”
“Dean, please, I need a hand here. I can’t do this alone.”
Dean grimaced sickly. “Bloody hell…”
- - - - -
They stole one of the rowboats and found the iceberg a while later, although Dean fretted the entire time. “So, remind me again what we have to do?” Dean asked nervously for the umpteenth time.
Sam rolled his eyes. “Shoot it with the flare gun. The ice will melt, releasing the spirit, and all we have to do is say a bit of Latin, and everything will be hunky-dory.”
“You better be right about this, or else I’ll box your ears into next year.”
- - - - -
Dean shot the iceberg, while Sam yelled in Latin. Even though the rowboat didn’t sink, there were some large splashes from where the chunks of ice hit the water when the iceberg melted. Dean, of course, complained, but Sam could only laugh. “Now, what do y’say we return back to the ship? I’m sure there are still some ladies left for you to chat up.”
Dean shook his head and wiped his face off with the blanket Sam had given him. In the distance, the lights of Titanic glowed, and he was just glad that after tonight, he would not have to sail again.
- - - - -
End