srs2013 | (no subject)

(no subject)

This round, the theme is languages.

If you have an idea for something you'd like to see, please leave the ship, a language, and any other details as a PROMPT below. After you've posted, read through everyone else's prompts, and leave a FILL for any which catch your eye. Fills can be in any media, and they need not be long, but please put a little effort in--if anyone starts spamming this post for points, we'll be able to tell.

You should place PROMPT/FILL, your current team affiliation and a brief summary in the comment title. Do not forget to change the title of the comment when posting a FILL as a reply to a PROMPT. NSFW prompts and fills should mention this in the summary or at the top of the post. Reminder that team names must be in alphabetical order (ie. Balthazar/Death, not Death/Balthazar) and that portmanteaus (ie. Lubriel, Annaby) are not allowed when identifying team affiliation.

You will be awarded five points per prompt for the first five prompts you leave. The first three fills posted for each prompt will receive 15 points, the next three 10 points, and the next three 5 points. Prompts with ten or more fills will no longer receive fill points.

Bonus rounds are still rarepair only, but you can post prompts or fills for any rare ship this round, including gen/platonic ones (which should be indicated with an & as above). Due to some unforeseen complication from last round, we have changed the rules. It is now 15 points per fill for the first three fills by three different people. So if someone does a fic for Fill 1 and a fanmix for Fill 2, then get 15 + 10 points, and then Person 2 does a fill and Person 3 does a fill, so even though those would be fills 3 and 4, they count as 15 and 15 points since they're fills by new people. You are still not permitted to fill your own prompt. We also encourage people not to fill prompts from their teammates, although the points will not be deducted if you do.

Bonus round fills can include links provided they are publicly viewable. Works can also be cross-posted to other websites, as there is no anonymity requirement in bonus rounds. However, works posted directly to comments will be limited to 16,000 characters by the Dreamwidth comment limit. Longer works should therefore be divided between multiple comments.

Remember, Team Chuck can participate in bonus rounds, and if you change teams, points earned will transfer with you until the end of the team shuffle period.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

~~in before other angel shippers~~

Basically, I want to see Castiel and Lucifer talking to each other in their native language. Almost nobody else could understand them, so they can say whatever they want. Fluff is fine. NSFW is fine. Just Casifer and Enochian. And no, I don't actually expect "real" Enochian for this.

I want Kevin to have gone mute? I love Kevin so qkwjrhqkwrqr but I kind of want to see him have gone mute - maybe it's because his mom's dead, maybe it's because he hates what's happened to him and he can't deal with it anymore. And I want someone else to be there for him, without having to provide any comments. Just quiet reassurance.
Or maybe Samandriel as a ghost and idek. ;-;

Kevin sat flipping through a book in the bunker. When Dean walked in and saw that it didn’t look like one of his usual books, he said “hey kev, watcha reading?”

Kevin just sat there staring at him, a little angry but mostly sad. Then he turned the book to show Dean its cover: A Guide to Sign Language.

“Oh, sorry, man. I just forgot for a second there.” He immediately felt really guilty, not just for the social blunder, but for the part he played in Kevin becoming mute.

Dean’s eyebrows perked up as he remembered something. “I think Sam knows some ASL. He took a class in Stanford or something”

When Kevin looked pleased by the thought, Dean went off to a different part of the bunker to go find Sam.

Sam came over a few minutes later with two glasses of water and a sympathizing look on his face.

He made some motions with his hands, but Kevin couldn’t follow. Then, realizing the last thing Kevin wanted was for him to start talking to explain, he wrote on a pad of paper what he had just signed. It read “I know this must be difficult. I can help though”

They worked for hours. Kevin was the type to not give up, even though it was extremely difficult learning a new language. The whole time, it was silent. Kevin couldn’t speak, and Sam respectfully chose not to.

Late into the night, when they were closing up the books for the night and they were about to go to their bedrooms, Kevin signed a simple gesture that meant “thank you.”

Sam spent the next hour or so with Kevin as he went to bed, just to be a warm presence for the boy who was clearly still a wreck.

Edited (fixed ending a bit) 2013-11-05 05:31 (UTC)

castiel talking dirty in enochian to crowley. crowley's a little rusty on the language, but he gets enough of what cas is saying to get totally turned on. oh, and translations would be nice.
edit: sorry fatalchild i realize you just posted a ridiculously similar prompt, but this was legit the first thing to pop into my head when i read that the theme was languages

Edited 2013-11-03 09:20 (UTC)

dean doesn't know french but likes to pretend he does. especially when he goes to a french restaurant, and makes an adorable fool out of himself and sam's just there shaking his head like "not again." this isn't a wincest thing, sam't just there with him. dean can be paired up with whoever you want or no one at all, but i like the idea of sam being there to be embarrassed by his brother

*I guess for those who speak French there is some mild language.*

***

“Jamais de poisson et verre,” Dean says smoothly, looking neither at the waiter or the menu, instead his eyes are locked on the blonde sitting across from him.

“Um,” the waiter furrows his brow before scribbling something down on his notepad. “Okay.”

His date giggles and takes a tiny bite of the complimentary bread sticks. “I didn’t know you were so suave.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, uh…mon petite.” Dean blanks on her name but she doesn’t seem to notice, just blushes and gives him a dreamy stare for the hundredth time. Dean might be only a couple marks away from failing French but he realized that the key to impressing people was to speak with confidence. He’s brought plenty of people here who ooh and ah at how smart and worldly he is.

The waiter returns and places the lady’s quiche down on the table and then quickly returns to the table with Dean’s dish. On the plate is a cut of what looks like salmon covered in a light brown sauce and topped with a yellow-green crumble. The waiters just stands there and waits for Dean’s reaction, hoping to have chosen the right thing and Dean just stares at…whatever is on his plate.

“Oh, I used to eat pistachios by the handful when I was a little girl,” his date says cheerily.

“Pistachios, right.” Dean pokes his fork into the dish. “That will be all, homme.”
The waiter rolls his eyes but doesn’t comment of Dean’s horrible French.

The next morning, Dean wishes her a “beau nuit” before he sneaks out of her window.

***

A few Saturdays later he’s on his way to pick up a new girl, Jenny, when his cell phone starts ringing. He lets it go to voicemail because this is one date he wasn’t going to miss for anything, Jenny was the cheerleader he had been trying to bag for months. But just as Jenny climbs into the passenger’s seat his phone starts ringing again and then twice more on the way there.

“Hello?” Dean answers tersely.

“Dean, I need you to come get me,” Sam tells him on the other end.

“What? No! You’re supposed to sleep over at that nerds house.”

“Conrad’s parents are fighting,” Sam whispers. “I want you to come get me.”

“No way.”

“Please, Dean,” he begs.

“I have a date, Sammy.”

“Bring him along,” Jenny says suddenly.

“What?”

Jenny gives him a sincere smile. “Why not? I don’t mind.”

“Jenny doesn’t mind,” Sam mildly taunts.

Dean is silent, drumming his free hand against the steering wheel. “You sure?”

“Yeah, I bet he’s adorable.”

That’s how they end up in his fancy French restaurant with Sam, in his baggy jeans and wrinkly t-shirt, sitting next to his date and telling him all about his next science project.

Their server comes up to them, not the meek waiter he usually has but a stern looking woman with her hair pulled tight into a bun.

“What can I get for you this evening?”

Dean decides that he can still turn this night around and puts on his best French accent. “Je vu de putain.”

The waitress pales a little before her lips turn into down into a sharp frown. “Pardon?”

“Dean,” Sam lean in and hisses. “I don’t know what you're trying to say but that is not it.”

“I just asked for some putain. You know, putain,” Dean explains but each time he says putain the waitress’s expression turns a little more sour. “It’s uh, fries and um gravy…”

“Oh,” the waitress’s eyes turn from disgust to contempt. “You mean poutine.”

“Yeah that!”

“Well, sir, this is a real French restaurant not a dinner on the outskirts of Montreal.” She taps her pen against her notepad and Jenny doesn’t quite manage to hold back her laugh. “So you’ll have to order some actual food.”

“Madame,” Sam speaks up. “Mon frère veut le pot de feu, s'il vous plaît.”

“Très bien, monsieur,” She nods and gives him a look far nicer than she’s ever given Dean. They watch her walk away in silence, Dean seething on the inside at being shown up by his little brother.

“Sam, you speak so well,” Jenny smiles at the young boy. “Do you study French in school?”

“No, sometimes I read Dean’s textbooks when he leaves them lying around.” Sam shrugs.

“You’re such a little cutie,” she laughs. They begin chatting while Dean resists the urge to kick his little brother under the table for messing up his date.

“Here.” The waitress drops Dean’s bowl onto the table, some of it ends up splattered onto his shirt.

“Hey!” Dean snaps but she’s already long gone. “You ordered me soup, Sammy? I hate soup.”

“I don’t know a lot of food names,” Sam says, cutting into his steak (which Dean is going to have to pay for). “And I wasn’t going to make a fool out of myself ordering something unless I know how.”

Jenny breaks out into laughter at Sam’s sass. Dean nearly reaches across the table and strangles him.

***

The car is deadly silent on the way home, perhaps for the other two it’s a comfortable quite but Dean is seething on the inside. Jenny practically had a date with Sam instead of him and on top of that his little brother made him look like a complete idiot. He almost considers just driving off as soon and Jenny shuts her door but grudgingly gets out and walks her to her door.

“I had a really nice time,” she smiles as she unlocks her front door.

“Awesome,” Dean mumbles.

“I was right, your little brother is adorable.” Dean wants to shoot back maybe he’ll take you to prom then but his nods stiffly and turns to leave. Jenny grabs his hand and tugs him back before pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You’re a really good bug brother.”

“Thanks,” he says surprised.

“Maybe next time it can be just us though.” She leans in again and brushes her lips against his before she rushes back inside.

Dean walks back to the car with a smug smile on his face, Sam’s already moved to the front seat. He takes one look at Dean’s new found happiness and tells him “Le français est la langage d'amour.”

“Shut up, Sammy.”

Edited 2013-11-15 03:13 (UTC)

Samandriel might be able to speak in every known human language and then some, but, as Adam quickly finds out, he's never learned to read. Samandriel insists he can get by just find without it, but Adam takes it upon himself to teach him just the same.

Of all the members of Team Free Will currently living in the Bunker, Sam is least likely to curse. It's not that he doesn't see the appeal, it's just that he prefers to save stronger language for when a situation best requires it. The situation best requiring it, as Crowley quickly finds out, is apparently while having sex, and Crowley makes it his goal to get as many dirty words out of Sam's mouth as he can.

Shippy or Gen.

The trauma of taking on Sam's damage has left Castiel mute.Lucifer and Castiel, being angels, have a pretty good grasp on all languages and Castiel can talk to him through signing. Everyone else at the hospital can't understand and since they know he's physically able to speak,they won't bring in a translator for him. So Lucifer is the only one that Castiel can talk to.

Dean can actually hear angels after he is brought back from Hell. It can be at times helpful or a painful headache, hilarity can ensue (Dean listing in to angel gossip). It can be shippy (no popular ships for obvious reasons) or Gen.

Meg really likes how Latin incantations sounds, it can be a problem considering what she is. Any ship (bonus if it is Dean/Meg, Meg/Sam or Lucifer/Meg, but any other ship works).

A human Castiel is rendered temporarily mute a curse and the only way he can communicate is through gestures. Que him trying to explain to Lucifer what happened so he can fix it but Lucifer not really understanding Castiel wild gesturing.

As if losing his grace wasn’t insult enough. Castiel knew that he shouldn’t gone after the witch. He was no hunter, as the Winchesters had reminded him so many times, but sitting idly while someone attempted to bind other angels was something he simply couldn’t abide. He had been halfway through the incantation to strip her powers when the curse hit him, knocking him off his feet and filling his mouth with a sharp copper tang. He’d fled, shameful tears burning his eyes, back to the hotel room to scold himself for such a careless mistake.

After dozing briefly, Castiel woke up to find a strange numbness lingering in his throat and his tongue heavy in a peculiar way. He wrote it off to post-battle soreness, taking the phone off the receiver to order a pizza, or anything to eat really. The bored teenager picked up and sighed, but Castiel quickly found that he couldn’t speak. His mouth gaped, lips forming a string of uselessly silent words until he finally hung up in a second fit of shame. He sat in the dark for an hour trying to make a sound, any sound, and finding himself completely unable. Defeat crushing him, he lifted the phone again.

There would be a lecture, if not a scolding, and perhaps that was why Castiel had delayed so much already. Though he hated to admit it, he knew that his new status as human meant that he would need to be more careful and would, occasionally, need help. The thought made him sick. He’d gone from angelic captain of the Heavenly Host to something small and weak and worthless. Tears stung his eyes as the phone rang in his ear.

“Hello?” Lucifer answered, sounding as if he had just woken up, which was strange considering that he still had his powers and thus had no need to sleep.

Castiel sat, forcibly quiet, counting the beats of silent and hoping his brother didn’t write it off as a prank call. He assumed that Lucifer didn’t get very many calls. The only reason he’d gotten the phone was so that Castiel and an absurdly small selection of demons could contact him in the event of emergency. Frankly, the demons almost never had any need.

“Who is this?” Lucifer asked, finally, sounding irritated to be bothered without explanation. A moment of thought seemed to clear it up. “Castiel?”

He nodded pitifully on the other end of the line, well aware of the absurdity of gesturing to someone who couldn’t see him, but he desperately wanted Lucifer to know it was him.

“Castiel, are you in trouble? Say something.” Lucifer waited again while Castiel chewed his lips in silence. “I can see the number you’re calling from,” he said in a low, icy voice. “If you hurt my little brother, I will rend you apart.”

The phone clicked, and Castiel returned the handset to the cradle. He knew deep down that he shouldn’t have enjoyed that protective note to Lucifer’s voice, but it was hard not to feel special when he talked about him like that. He felt a little better, lying back across the bed to sleep. Lucifer was coming to get him. He would make everything alright.

***

Castiel was woken by the force of cold hands pressing into his shoulders.

“Castiel, open your eyes.”

He didn’t, not at first, just wrinkled his nose in displeasure at being woken and tried to turn over.

“Castiel, right now,” Lucifer said sharply, and the familiar, authoritative tone of an archangel was enough to fully rouse him. He blinked his eyes open slowly, rubbing sleep from his lashes, and looked up with a smile. Lucifer had come from him after all. Castiel opened his mouth.

Nothing happened. His face fell, and he met Lucifer’s eyes with a look of profound misery.

“I was worried about you. What are you doing here? What was that phone call about?”

Castiel’s lips moved, but Lucifer just stared at him, arching one brow in confusion. Lip reading was, apparently, not going to work, so instead, Castiel lifted his chin and patted his exposed throat lightly.

“...You can’t speak?”

He nodded.

Lucifer’s mouth pulled to the side in an expression of evaluation as he tried to think of a reason for sudden onset mutism. “You’ve lost your voice,” he said slowly, and Castiel nodded again. “I see. Well, I’ll get you some herbal tea, and we can put honey in it so--”

Castiel shook his head.

“No honey? Do you not like it? I suppose it can make things overly sweet, but the medicinal properties of--”

Palms out, Castiel waved his hands in what was intended to be a dismissive gesture, but it only confused Lucifer more.

“No honey then, but I still think the tea would--”

Castiel struck his hands down on the bed, creating much less noise than he’d hoped but at least getting Lucifer’s attention.

“No tea then… I can try to heal you, but dealing with something like a virus is a lot more complicated, as you’re well aware.” He extended two fingers towards Castiel’s forehead, frowning when he pulled away, shaking his head again.

Castiel brought one fist to his mouth, attempting to mime coughing, and then shook his head again.

Lucifer squinted at him. “Not a virus…?”

Sadly, Castiel shook his head again.

“Okay… You have no voice, but you’re not sick… Can you give me anything more than that?”

He thought for a moment, trying to think of some way to communicate “witch”. Lifting his arms, he touched his thumbs and fingers together, forming a sort of triangle which he situated on top of his head to mimic the familiar caricature of a pointed hat.

“I don’t know what that means.”

Castiel frowned again. This was harder than he thought. He curved his fingers then, holding his hands up like claws, and offering a silent cackle. Hopefully, Lucifer had seen The Wizard of Oz.

Lucifer looked at him like he was a bit crazy.

Getting a bit desperate, Castiel rose to his feet. He stood on one side of the room, pointing his finger like a gun at nothing. Then, watching Lucifer’s eyes carefully, he stepped into a second position opposing himself and flicked his wrist, holding his hand in a way to suggest gripping a wand. Lucifer watched television on occasion. He could have at least seen a preview, right? Running back to his original position, Castiel jerked his body like he was struck, pretending to tumble to the ground. He lie there for a moment before sitting up, touching his neck again and looking up at Lucifer hopefully.

“...Little Thursday, what the Hell are you doing?”

Castiel deflated, shoulders slumping in defeat. He thought for a second then. Charades. Lucifer had seen Sam and Dean play charades once, he was pretty sure. Standing again, he cupped one hand behind his ear and then scratched his arm.

“Do you have an earache… or a rash?” Lucifer stepped sideways quickly to avoid the pillow tossed at him. “You know there is an actual way to communicate when you can’t talk,” he said.

Eyes narrowed, Castiel glowered at him. Of course there was, but ever since he’d lost his grace, he’d forgotten how to speak many languages and found that it was harder to relearn and remember them. He’d never had any use for sign language before, so it wasn’t on his admittedly short list of options.

Lucifer sighed and shook his head. “I don’t mean that, little brother.” He stepped over to the nightstand and picked up the little notepad and pen, holding them out expectantly.

Oh. Castiel mouthed the word that he couldn’t speak, blushing furiously as he took the pen and scribbled “witch curse” onto the page. He waited a moment while Lucifer stared at the words like they were in a foreign language and then, looking back up at Castiel’s eyes for a moment, began to laugh.

“I’m sorry,” he said, dodging another pillow. “I’m sorry, but how was I supposed to get that?”

Castiel threw his hands up, falling back on the bed miserably and covering his face.

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic,” Lucifer said, wiping his eyes quickly, a gesture that earned a harsh glare from Castiel. It wasn’t that funny. “I’ll be right back.” He flew away, returning shortly with a little vial of liquid, cutting Castiel off when he opened his mouth. “Don’t ask.”

Not like it would have worked, he thought, sighing. The concoction smelled worse than it looked, and Castiel gave Lucifer a doubtful glance, receiving only a shrug in return, before he choked it down.

“There. Not so bad, right?”

Castiel glared.

“...Okay then.” Lucifer vanished again, returning with a bottle of soda as a peace offering. “Here. You can wash it down with your precious sugar water. It will take a while to work.”

Sulking once more, Castiel huddled up on the bed.

“Don’t be like that.” Lucifer sat at his side, putting an arm around his shoulders and pulling him in close to his side. “I’ll wait it out with you.”

Castiel nodded, but he found that he didn’t last quite so long for the remedy to work before the exhaustion from an incomplete nap tugged at him. He woke hours later, curled up on his side with Lucifer against his back, a soft press of lips at the nape of his neck.

“Good morning, little brother.”

He swallowed hard, still sore, and wondered how much longer he would have to wait.

Lucifer tucked an errant lock of hair back behind Castiel’s ear. “You’re going to have to try,” he said softly. “That dramatic reenactment requires some kind of explanation.”

Scowling, Castiel shot him a look over his shoulder. “You’re a jerk,” he croaked. “It made plenty of sense.”

“Sure it did. Don’t quit your day job, kid. Or--” Lucifer trailed his fingers down Castiel’s shoulder “--you know… do. You don’t need it. I’ll take care of you.”

Castiel was quiet again, though now for an entirely different reason. He closed his eyes again, feeling very peaceful as he considered the offer. After a moment, he leaned back against Lucifer and gave a small nod. That didn’t require any words.

Edited 2013-11-08 04:12 (UTC)

Castiel is still getting used to his relationship with Sam. After Dean casually mentions that the worst thing you can do is bring the "L word" up, Castiel is worried that telling Sam he loves him will freak the hunter out and ruin what they have. So he says it in Enochian instead, having it slip out when they're alone. Sam doesn't know exactly what Castiel's saying but he can tell just by the tender look in his eyes.

/I saw this prompt and nearly melted. Hell yes, this is to cute :3/

Sam and Cas loved each other. That much was obvious. But Dean and Cas had discussed this. Cas usually went to Dean when he needed relationship advice, seeing as Dean knew Sam best.
“Just…be careful, Cas.” Dean had said. Cas cocked his head in confusion. “You…uh…just steer clear of “the L word”, okay?”
“You mean…love.”
“Yeah.”
“But, I do love him, Dean.”
“Yeah, I know, Cas, but…it’s kind of a thing with him…” Cas still didn’t understand. “Just, the dude’s sensitive to those kinds of things, alright? We both are…it’s just…the life, you know?”
Dean wasn’t exactly expert in expressing his feelings, but when Cas saw the look in Dean’s eye when he said those words it suddenly clicked.
“Yes, Dean, I understand.”
“Good.”
But Cas, unlike Dean wasn’t really good with subtlety. He loved Sam and he wanted to make that clear, but he also didn’t want to drive Sam away. Lying next to the hunter at night, he agonized over this for hours. Sometimes he even said it out loud, softly, while the hunter slept, hoping that just maybe Sam’s subconscious would pick up on it.
But this was it. He’d decided. He was finally going to say it.
“H-hey…Sam…” Cas said, approaching the hunter cautiously while he was reading in the study one day.
“Yeah, Cas?” Sam furrowed his brow. The angel wasn’t acting quite like himself. “You okay?”
Cas didn’t answer. He simply sat himself directly across from Sam, looked him dead in the eye and said it, his confession. Albeit, not in English.
And there was that characteristic lack of subtlety that Sam secretly adored.
Sam was slightly taken aback by the unexpected phrase of enochian. And if it weren’t for the look in Cas’ eye, he wouldn’t have understood. But he was suddenly filled with the warmth of adoration he was certain he knew what Cas was saying.
And what Cas did next confirmed his suspicion. The ex-angel stood and placed a loving kiss on the blushing hunter’s forehead.
A wide grin split Sam’s face as he watched Cas leave the room. But he stopped him before he could get to the door.
“Cas.” The angel turned back around to face him. “I love you too.”
And that was that.

Re: fill, team crowley/sam, what we say and what we feel

marie_de_sade - 2013-11-06 04:05 (UTC) - Expand

I just want some really fluffy denny. like for real the fluffier the better. Obvs I want the theme to be dean trying to teach benny latin, but the vampire is struggling a bit and everything sounds awkward in his thick Cajun accent and dean thinking it's adorable how benny stumbles over the foreign words uwu

An angel constantly making jokes in Enochian, and their non-angel SO just doesn't get what's so funny (bonus for Gabriel/Kali)

Or an angel couple(potentially post-s8 finale) cuddling and joking around in their native language and just some general cuteness

So let's have a situation where Naomi and Abaddon are in a foreign language (whichever language you like or are most comfortable working with) class together and have to pair up for some kind of presentation, and just have them arguing and being at odds constantly that would be pretty cool.

Edited 2013-11-04 23:01 (UTC)

AU wherein Sam is a translator of ancient documents, and Crowley is his sexy and incredibly distracting supervisor.

Bobby went to Japan on a boat soon after his wife died, and I'd love to see something with him struggling to learn his Japanese. Maybe arguing with Rufus in Japanese? I don't really mind, but I'd like to see him struggling.

Set where Dean is off the rack and torturing souls, I'd like to see something where Alastair is right behind him, speaking into the shell of Dean's ear in a harsh language Dean doesn't know, understand or recognize, but something about that demonic tone chills him to the bones and sets him right on edge.

NSFW warning because of torture, just to be on the safe side.

Alastair is very old. Dean can tell that much from the way the air seems to just hum with energy around him, not to mention the strangely beautiful white eyes that flicker in the darkness. The words that roll off his tongue suggest something dark and ancient. Dean can hear a hint of an accent there, a strange inflection that demands attention and makes every word flow effortlessly into the next. Yes, there’s certainly something about the way he talks. His voice always has a sneer to it, something that suggests whoever he was in his human life was sarcastic and perpetually miserable, but it does nothing to diminish the peculiar beauty of the language. The Rs roll just perfectly, and his tongue curls around the Ls in a way that defies explanation.

But the truth is, Dean can’t understand a word.

He picks up a razor, one that has a long, straight blade, and Alastair laughs softly, whispers something that ends in a breathy “ah” sound that seems to suggest approval. Dean glances back at him, and his lips curl in a smile. It’s dark and cruel and twisted, and it makes ice run down the length of Dean’s spine until he turns away. But it also means that Alastair is happy with his choice. That’s important.

He chooses a tiny pen blade for his next subject, and the response he gets is something much sharper, full of hard consonants and too few vowels to soften it. He stops, unwilling to turn and see disappointment. He doesn’t have to. Alastair presses close to him, draws right up against his back and wraps an arm around his waist, palm pressing with splayed fingers across his trembling stomach. Black smoke curls down the length of his arm, long fingers brushing the inside of Dean’s wrist and guiding it back to the table so that he releases the instrument he’d selected. He chooses something else, picks up a knife with an oddly curved blade, something that tapers into a little hook, and Alastair hums in contentment, whispering the same word from before, the soft one that drags the vowels out like a sigh that prickles across where Alastair’s mouth is open at the back of Dean’s neck.

Hell is burning. Dean shivers anyway.

Sometimes, it sounds almost like music. A demon singing seems absurd enough, but Dean’s realization that it sounds like a hymn almost makes him drop his instrument. Alastair clicks his tongue in admonishment, scolds him sharply. He apologizes, scrambling for the now soiled knife and tossing it aside. He can’t use it now. Keep your workstation clean. By the time he’s chosen something else, he finds that the sound behind him as lulled him into a sickeningly comforting sort of complacency. Alastair’s voice is smooth now, rising and dipping as words are stretched into songs. Who could a demon be singing praise to though?

As if he can hear Dean’s thoughts, Alastair laughs softly. He moves around him, almost like a dance, disturbingly fluid and graceful with every step, and he is certainly singing something while he watches Dean peel the flesh from yet another screaming victim. Somehow, Alastair matches his voice to the other, as if he were leading a macabre duet rather than celebrating the suffering before him. Hours, days, weeks; it doesn’t matter. Soon enough, this one gives in too, begs for mercy and agrees to take a blade up, agrees to join them if only to make the pain stop. Dean steps back and lets Alastair come forward, predictably whispering sweet comforts to their newest convert as the torture instruments are removed in exchange for eternal service.

For a moment after they go, Dean is alone. He stands amidst the fire, looking down at the shiny silver of the blades and how so much of the rusty blood is staining his skin rather than any external implement. His stomach flips, and before he realizes it, he’s replaying the demonic song in his head, as if something like that could comfort him. It does, even as he turns the sounds over in his head and tries to pick them apart, searching for some clue as to the meaning. The one word seems to repeat more than any other, seems to be carried differently, seems to rise above every other sound in the most painfully beautiful way: Helel.

Overly warm hands sliding down his shoulders snap Dean from his thoughts. He starts to turn, but Alastair holds him in a way that he can’t. He’s crooning now, eyes closed as he whispers elongated vowels colored with the strangely manic happiness that overtakes his tone in moments like this. Dean closes his eyes and sags backwards into the embrace for a moment.

Alastair’s nose brushes the shell of his ear in something of a caress, and he doesn’t have to understand the language to know the words being said.

Good boy. That’s my good boy.

Okay, so before Bela is dragged off to Hell, I'd love to see her in some bar somewhere and Balthazar seeing her, realizing she's made a demon deal, and being really interested. So, he approaches her, and pretends to be French, speaking to her rapidly. Bela's French is little, and Balthazar pretends his English is little.
And then they share a hotel room.

Abaddon is one of the angels who fell with Lucifer, and since then she has become twisted and corrupt, an angel turned demon. This can be reflected through her language and the way she speaks Enochian, for the dialect of Enochian she has become familiar with is one that is dark and malicious, spawned from Hell. So let's have a situation where Abaddon and Naomi are together, and Naomi still speaks the Heavenly, "proper" dialect of Enochian, and each woman shows disdain towards the other over her respective dialect.

Rufus! I'd love to see something with Rufus teaching Dean and Sam Hebrew, especially if it's like, them as young boys in Bobby's house and Rufus being there, just teaching them random passages from Hebrew texts or teaching them random words.

Let's have Meg and Benny together maybe on a date or something and Meg is imitating Benny's accent (rather badly) and he finds it quite amusing and also very cute. *u*

"Ya done yet, sug?" Benny asks with the tail end of a tease on the tip of his tongue. But he can't help but crack a smile at Meg. She's sprawled in the booth across from him smirking her way through her best copycat Cajun accent.

"N'aw babydoll, I ain't ev'a gon be done with ya," she takes a swig of her beer to cover up her laughter but she almost ends up choking on a giggle.

It's their third date and Benny's learned that if you get more than a half pint in Meg on an empty stomach she'll nitpick at the twang of his speech. She doesn't mean any harm and if he didn't enjoy her ramblings he wouldn't have texted her 'good morning' and 'good night' everyday for the past two weeks until they'd had time to meet up again.

He has to fight the urge to cover his face with his hands and dissolve into a laughin' mess when the food arrives. Meg takes one bite of french fry and looks the waitress dead in the eye before sincerely saying, "this 's some damn fine home cookin' ya hear?" And Benny misses the confused 'ah I - I'll let the cook know' the blonde replies with.

"Keep that up n' I might not let ya go, Meg. They do say imitation is the most sincere form 'a flattery." Benny winks at her before taking his fork and knife in hand to cut up his steak.

"Who ever said I wanted to leave?" She's dropped the accent and picked up a demureness that Benny hasn't seen from her so far.

"In that case...'s a good think I'm plannin' on seein' you again, Miss Masters." Dinner is finished in a comfortable silence aside from the sneaking glances and quick smiles. They both start thinking they've found quite a catch in one another.

((eek I hope this is somewhere around what you were hoping for :3))
Also on tumblr

So team free will is all reunited in the bunker (zeke is back to his original vessel) and all is well. As the hunters and the fallen angels go about their day, Zeke and Cas like to speak to each other in their native language...however, Dean and Sam find it very frustrating and annoying!
idc how you want them to deal with the situation, maybe dean and sam try to snag bits of the convo and translate it to no avail or maybe they confront the angels about it. It's up to you! :)

Sam is a librarian at a university library and notices the cute student who appears without fail every day at 5 pm and stays until closing. Stealing glances at the attractive student hunched over his book, Sam wonders what it is the boy is working on so vigorously. When Sam offers to help Kevin put away his books one evening, it is revealed that he is working on a Latin translation. As he is very well versed in Latin, Sam offers to help.

(High school AU) Ruby doesn't care much for French, but she loves watching Anna try to teach her when they study together, and getting so annoyed that Ruby just doesn't care about learning the language or her grade at all. But the brunette just can't get enough of listening to her tutor speak French, and imagining far better things she could be doing with that talented tongue of hers.

AU where Michael is a translator, working on translating a popular young adult novel from english to norwegian. His boyfriend, Lucifer, makes fun of him when he starts to really enjoy reading YA novels intended mainly for teenage girls. Michael reads them in any language available (he has great language skills) and specifically seeks out work where he has to translate in the YA genre. Lucifer sometimes goes through his work when he's not around secretly loves them too.

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Prompt: Team Castiel/Lucifer, Enochian (Casifer)

Prompt, Team Castiel/Lucifer, Wordless

FILL, Team Benny/Dean, Learning to Sign

PROMPT, Team Benny/Dean, dirty talk NSFW

PROMPT, Team Benny/Dean, dirty talk NSFW

Fill: (Team Castiel/Lucifer). Sam, Dean, Dean/OFC

Prompt, (Team Crowley/Sam), Reading

Prompt, (Team Crowley/Sam), Cursing in Bed

Prompt (team Castiel/Lucifer), ASL (or any sign language), Castiel, Lucifer

Prompt: Team Dean/Michael, Enochian

Prompt: Team Dean/Michael, Latin

Prompt (team Castiel/Lucifer), Casifer, made up signing

Fill: Team Castiel/Lucifer, Not Quite ASL

Prompt (team Castiel/Lucifer), Sastiel, Enochian

fill, team crowley/sam, what we say and what we feel

Re: fill, team crowley/sam, what we say and what we feel

prompt, team crowley/sam, dean teaching benny to read latin

PROMPT, Team Anna/Jo, It's Funnier in Enochian

Prompt, Team Abaddon/Naomi, College AU

PROMPT, Team Crowley/Sam, translator!Sam

PROMPT, Team Crowley/Sam, learning Japanese

PROMPT, Team Crowley/Sam, Alastair and Dean

Fill, Team Castiel/Lucifer, Demonic Language

PROMPT, Team Crowley/Sam, Bela/Balthazar

Prompt, Team Abaddon/Naomi, Enochian Dialects

PROMPT, Team Crowley/Sam, bits of Hebrew

Prompt, Team Abaddon/Naomi, MegBenny Accents

FILL: Team Castiel/Dean/Samandriel, MegBenny Accents

prompt, team crowley/sam, cas and zeke chatting in enochian

prompt, team crowley/sam, sevin college AU

PROMPT, Team Anna/Jo, I Love it When You Speak French

PROMPT, Team Benny/Dean, YA in all languages