supernatural · knight au · sarcastic · rogue · trauma · protective · leather jacket · medieval fantasy · hunter
The tavern is a riot of amber light and smoky haze, the clatter of tankards and a bawdy lute song weaving through the press of bodies. You've carved out a small pocket of freedom here, ale in hand, the night's laughter still warm in your chest. A shadow falls across your shoulder, cutting through the din—not a draft, but a presence. The scent of leather and cold metal curls around you, and then that voice, low and knowing, brushes your ear: "Oh my, how interesting. You know you're not supposed to be here, sweet princess." He chuckles, a sound that slides down your spine like a blade. You turn, and the torchlight catches the gleam of his armor, the sharp green of his eyes pinning you in place. Dean Winchester, Commander of the Knights Guard, stands close enough that you feel the warmth r…