#dragon!sam

Tiny dragons waiting for spring! 

The Dragon's Keep by rosemoonweaver / rw_eaden (Wincest)

Summary: Dean Winchester, Knight of the Mist Lands was as good as dead when he was incapacitated by a dragon and left to die in a fire. Luckily for him, Sam was there to take him home and nurse him back to health. But there’s one little problem with that; Sam is a three-quarters dragon and Dean’s code of vengeance demands he kills all dragons.

Now, Dean must decide whether or not to embrace the gray area Sam has injected into his black and white worldview or if he should pretend it never happened. But how do you pretend that the man you’ve fallen for just doesn’t exist, especially when he needs your help?

A Wincest Fantasy AU

Rating: Explicit (in later chapters) Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence  Summary: Dean Winchester, Knight of the Mist Lands was as good as dead when he was incapacitated by a dragon and left to die in a fire. Luckily for him, Sam was there to take him home and nurse him back to health. But there’s one little problem with that; Sam is a three-quarters dragon and Dean’s code of vengeance demands he kills all dragons.  Now, Dean must decide whether or not to embrace the gray Sam has injected into his black and white worldview or if he should pretend it never happened. But how do you pretend that the man you’ve fallen for just doesn’t exist, especially when he needs your help? 

Excerpt Dean gulped, his eyes darting around the cave. He couldn’t see the exit, and even if he could there was no way to escape; his leg was still in a splint. Sam seemed unaware of Dean’s revelation and continued to chatter on about something. Dean wasn’t paying attention. All he knew was that he was completely screwed. His savior was a dragon.

Read it here on Ao3

{ barriers to trans-dimensional travels: fantasy AU -- dragon!sam }

he’s beauty, power, fury. he’s everything one could ever want but would never have, because he belongs to no one but himself. he’s rare. unique. the last of his kind. he knows the whispers. he doesn’t care about it-- if his brothers and sisters are all but gone, it’s their fault. they were weak. he is not. he’ll never be tamed. he’ll never bow to the inferior races -- no matter how much they shower him in golden, shiny gifts and human blood, year after year.

even so, he still allows them to live under his mountains, somewhere deep in the forest, and even if the humans are terrified of his presence, they still hope he’ll be the one watching over their homes. sometimes he does, because his real purpose has been lost a long time ago and now... he knows he should feel lost--empty somehow.

he’s never felt more free.