#also reminder the original ask started with having read all of cas' fic
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okay no reason to not keep this going because there are so very many stories i've loved and reexperiencing chunks of them as i compile these rec lists is rly joyful! so here are more stories that occupy my brainspace long-term:
a nun, a halo bearer, and an interdimensional pseudo-demon walk into an apartment // lilith cohabitating with avatrice by @fiddleabout
We Need To Talk About Ava // ava comes back wrong by @whatwordsmiss
oh, there's a river that winds on forever (i'm gonna see where it leads) // hiking the camino au by zefrumiousbandersnatch
in her careful hands // switzerland haircut fic by @unicyclehippo
redshift // atla au by @bazaarwords
on that dizzy edge // roommates au by @littledata
honey, cast me a line // pacrim au by @softpluto
how shall i speak of doom // vampire au &
the opposite of faith // horny worship au both by @lucytara
a beggar in the morning // absolute favorite soulmates worldbuilding, nuns can fuck au &
the gods we can touch // switzerland era, both by @thecousinsdangereux
romance is not dead (if you keep it just yours) // tiktok au by @emilyjunk
in the way everlasting // post-s2, ava returns by @belikebumblebee
all of the girls against god series by @possibilistfanfiction
in my veins // vampire au by puppybusby
i sense a rhythm humming in a frenzy // 80s au by littlepacketofchips
Customer feedback surveys for Bar La Vasseur // what it says on the tin, fun story told through customer reviews by @jtl07
i am the thesis of her prayers // almost a nun au by @paddingtonfan69
any avatrice recs :)))) have already read all your fics and now i am depression (genuinely daydream abt ur star wars au daily)
i could hype each of these fics individually but basically if it’s here i think it’s incredible and you have to read it 💖💖🥰
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the sweetest taboo// 1930s au &
i know now what no angel knows// fallen angel au by @dumpsterfireofsubtext
indy au part 1 & part 2// or, ava peels an orange & makes me feel insane 🫠🫠🫠 by @estherthenormal
lemon drop boy// t boy ava au
lazarus woke with a kiss// scp/ lab rat ava au &
how to stitch holes in the sky// dragon age au, all by @the-darkness-does-not-bargain
teach me to love (as you have loved me)// this is. yeah. this is beautiful. newbea au by @birgittesilverbae (💖💖 ily)
beyond our space and starlight// eldritch au by @thistleation
escape attempt number whatever thousand, some hundred and four, probably// hades au by @foulbearobservation
do a flip// aikido gfs au by @sunsafewriting
if saints and angels spoke of love// (bea is a math teacher & ava’s basically the guy from dead poets society) by @mermaidandthedrunks
choose the devil i know (over the heaven i don’t)// firefighter au by @sapphicstacks
leave the light on (i’ll find my way home)// lighthouse au by @snowandwolves
on the run from a losing game// chef au by @fiddleabout
this must be the place// lumberjack au by @littledata
love thy neighbour// my fav roommates au. pokemon strap-on fic 😌����
turning sun into sugar, spinning straw into gold// pnw au by @gohandinhand
the world is just an illusion (trying to change you)// roadtrip au, &
a lover, or something of mine// reincarnation au by @smokestarrules
who needs comfortable love// sentient halo au by @the-ominous-owl
this celestial glow is blinding// firewatch au
the thought of high windows// 60s au
pull back the curtains for venus// alien bea au &
of greater marvels yet to be// fleabag au, all by @seabiscuits-us
#fic rec#wn fic#avatrice fic#and still not an exhaustive list this fandom is crazy talented#also reminder the original ask started with having read all of cas' fic#i just want to reiterate that because chess au is in my thoughts literally daily
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Rethinking the Cas x Harvey time loop AU bc I just unlocked Rasmodius's spell book thing in game & was reminded of that expensive fucking clock & if you know me, you know I love clocks. Also maybe instead of having it as an AU, it can be a whole story arc (not that I'm actually writing a fic of this, I just figured why not have it be part of Cas's canon).
Also I read this fic last night that doesn't technically mention the clock itself, but rather as a spell that Rasmodius casts & I think Cas would also be able to convince ol' Razzy to give her a discount on it.
Also also, this turned out SUPER long because I went a little more in depth than I originally intended.
(Sidenote that I'm considering starting a fresh file for Cas to help nail down the timeline for her story)
If you've read/watched D. Gray-Man, Miranda Lotto is my favorite character & I might have this AU take some inspiration from the Rewinding Town arc in that maybe the curse doesn't just make Cas relive the move to the farm over & over, but make it so that outside the town, time goes on normally.
So anyway, Cas & Harvey are already dating by the time Rasmodius asks Cas to go get the ink for him. She manages to do it without running into his ex (who I think I'm gonna call Esmerelda). He grants her access to one of his spell books. She of course looks through it immediately. The Junimo Hut could be nice (especially since she kinda misses seeing them around the Community Center). She doesn't mind making warp totems & would probably still use them if she had the obelisks (sometimes you're on the mountain & are like "shit, I needed to go to the beach", having a big ass obelisk on the farm is less convenient than having a few little totems on hand).
The clock fascinates her. "You can really make something like that?" She asks. He says "For the right price" and points to the listed price. She nearly chokes.
"Seriously? I mean, I get that you're essentially stopping time for like, specific things on the farm, but ten million??? It would take YEARS for me to save up that much money!"
She manages to talk him down to 100,000 gold, 100 solar & void essences each, 10 iridium bars, 5 prismatic jellies, and 100 gold bars.
It takes her a couple of weeks to get it all together but it's winter so she has a greenhouse full of ancient fruit plants, a few silos full of hay, and plenty of time to go into the mines. At some point during this though is when she realizes she wants to marry Harvey so she gets Rasmodius's help in making a rain totem that guarantees the following day will rain. (Upon looking at the wiki I guess it can technically be used in the winter but I like the idea of her having to wait a little, build up some anticipation, y'know?)
The gold clock gets made on the last day of Winter, when she also uses the rain totem. The following day, Cas does the whole thing where she shoots out of bed and barely remembers to throw on some proper clothes before she gets a totem out of her bag & warps to the beach to buy a mermaid pendant off of the old mariner. She runs over to the clinic (in the rain, she didn't even grab an umbrella or raincoat). It's not open yet & she left her phone, keys, & bag at home. She considers whether she should run home to grab her keys, or just hope Harvey is awake to hear her banging on the door (and that Pierre doesn't complain about hearing her battering down the clinic door at 7 in the morning).
When Harvey wakes up to hear the banging he rushes down thinking that there's an emergency (he wonders if Cas spent the previous night in the mines & was once again found passed out & injured, even though she swears up & down that she's more careful than she used to be & it's been a while since it happened). He opens the front door to find her standing there soaking wet and grinning from ear to ear.
"Are you okay-" he starts but Cas leaps forward to kiss him, knocking him a step back & soaking the front of his pajamas. When they part, Cas looks at him and she planned to just ask him straight away but she's just lovestruck and can't seem to get the words out at first. He asks what's going on, did something happen? She shakes her head, still grinning, and slowly opens up her hand that had been holding the pendant the whole time (it's a miracle she didn't drop it or crush it when she lept into his arms).
"Doctor Harvey Emerson, will you marry me?"
Of course he says yes, they kiss again. Harvey says something about Cas still dripping water on the clinic floor and urges her up into the apartment to take a warm shower (she didn't even realize how much she was shivering until he pointed it out) and dry off.
If Cas had it her way, they'd go have Lewis marry them that day, but Harvey convinces her to at least take a couple days to plan the wedding.
(It comes up that Cas doesn't really have any relatives to invite; she has no siblings or cousins, she never knew her father and her mother dying is part of what motivated her to quit Joja, which had basically taken up her whole life so she didn't really have any friends while working there.)
Meanwhile, Esmerelda is cooking up a plan. Her henchman told her what happened (to which she responded by turning him into a void chicken). She spies on Cas and Stardrop Farm, sees the gold clock and Cas planning the wedding with Harvey.
The day of the wedding, everybody including Rasmodius (who walks Cas down the aisle) in attendance, Esmerelda steals the gold clock to take back to her home and use it as the medium for a time loop curse. By the time Cas and Harvey come home it's been a long day and they don't notice that the clock is missing.
The next morning, everybody wakes up and it's the first day of spring, the first year Cas moved to the valley.
Cas wakes up at the bus stop with her bags, more confused than she's ever been in her life.
The first thing she does after making Robin think she's absolutely insane is go to Rasmodius's tower, but it's locked. Despite her pounding on the door hollering for him to open it, he doesn't answer. She decides to go into town, and when she comes across Lewis, he takes her to the community center. She's relieved when she finds that she can still read the golden scroll.
She heads to the clinic. Part of her knows that since so far no one seems to remember her, it's unlikely that Harvey will, but she hopes.
And he doesn't.
"It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Harvey, the local doctor. I perform regular check-ups and medical procedures for all the residents of Pelican Town. It's rewarding work. I hope you'll find your own work equally rewarding, in time." He says, just like the first time she met him. Her heart drops. She looks so suddenly pained that it concerns Harvey but she just tells him "I'm fine, it was... it was nice meeting you too" and leaves, heading back to the farm & plopping facedown on her bed. It's barely noon and she's already exhausted. She wonders if this is all a nightmare, or worse, that the past couple years were only a dream.
Ever the busy body though, she can't just lay around moping all day so she gets up and starts planting the parsnip seeds Lewis gave her. By the time she's done tilling and planting them it's close to 4 and she has no food. She drags herself into town to visit the saloon so she can finally eat for the first time that day. On her way home she forages a bit so she has something to eat the next morning.
When she receives Rasmodius's letter the next day, she rushes to water the parsnips and head out to the tower.
There's the whole thing where she tries to tell him that something is wrong, she's lived on Stardop Farm for a couple years but the day after she married Harvey she woke up and the town was back to day 1. He thinks she's fucking insane and when she starts getting riled up he straight up teleports her out of the tower & locks the door.
It takes a few days before Cas resigns herself to the belief that everything before was just a dream. It felt so real, more vivid than any other dream, but she doesn't have much of a choice. Things go on like normal but with a dull ache underlying every interaction with the people she came to know as dear friends. She falls in love with Harvey all over again. This time she marries him before completing the Community Center (before Rasmodius thinks to have her steal the magic ink). She lives through the happiest day of her life for the second time... and wake up the next morning at the bus stop.
She tries not to freak Robin out this time. She tries to act normal. Plants the parsnips, heads into town, visits the Community Center, stops by the saloon to pick up some food. On her way home, she overhears Jodi talking about how surprised she is that Kent is home so much earlier than expected. He was acting weird, but she figures it's just because of the war. Given a spark of hope that *somebody* remembers the previous years, she visits 1 Willow Lane.
Kent, having not been anywhere near the valley when Cas first moved in, is apparently immune to the time loop induced amnesia affecting the rest of the town. Like Cas, the first time it happened he thought it was a fluke, just his war traumatized brain playing tricks on him, but this time, one day he's attending Cas & Harvey's wedding in the middle of fall and the next is the first day of spring. After some convincing, he agrees to go with her to the wizard's tower tomorrow. Hopefully, with Kent, they can convince Rasmodius that something really weird is happening.
Cas is much calmer meeting Rasmodius this time and in addition to Kent's testimony, Cas tells Rasmodius everything she knows about him and the rest of the town (at this point she has the Community Center bundles memorized), including Esmerelda having his magic ink.
Rasmodius isn't quite sure what to make of it all, but Cas seems genuine so he agrees to look into it. They come to the conclusion that it is no coincidence that both resets happened right after Cas married Harvey, and if Cas really did sneak into Esmerelda's home then it makes sense that it was caused by Esmerelda & that Cas is the focus of the curse.
(Kent finds all the magic talk to be confusing and overwhelming, so the trio agrees that while Cas will keep him in the loop, he should focus on reconnecting with his family while Cas helps Rasmodius figure out how to break the curse)
It is also agreed that until it's broken, Cas cannot marry Harvey. Despite this, Cas goes home that night filled with hope that with Rasmodius on her side everything will be back to normal in no time.
It takes some time, a lot of trial & error, before Rasmodius comes to the conclusion that they have no choice but to confront Esmerelda.
Rasmodius insists that he do it alone, as who knows what Esmerelda will do to Cas.
Cas also figures that they're close enough to breaking the curse that she can at least give Harvey a bouquet.
At Esmerelda's home, she & Rasmodius have a confrontation that escalates pretty quickly. Ras also notices the gold clock. Just when Rasmodius thinks he has Esmerelda cornered, she forces a reset.
Cas wakes up at the bus stop. She throws her bags and kicks her luggage in frustration. She's crying when Robin comes up to take her to the farm. She tells Robin that things just haven't been going well for her lately and she didn't get much rest last night.
She goes through what is becoming a routine: parsnips, Community Center, Kent. She tells Kent that she isn't sure what happened, she didn't marry Harvey yesterday but she did give him a bouquet. She tells him that Rasmodius went to confront Esmerelda, something probably happened. Once again they go to the tower the next day to tell him what's going on.
I'm kinda running out of steam so I'm gonna try to wrap this up.
At some point, whether it's in the current loop or if it takes another reset or two, they figure out that the clock is the medium and they need to both kill Esmerelda AND destroy the clock, but Rasmodius & Cas both have to be present to destroy it (because Rasmodius made the clock, and not only was it made for Cas but the curse is centered on her).
Also at some point in one of the loops, Cas got the bus repaired and found that time outside of the valley has gone on normally. Sandy & Mr. Qi had been wondering why they hadn't seen Cas in quite a while, but when Mr. Qi tried to visit, something prevented him from entering the town. Word has spread around that something is up with the town because the merchants that come around for special events have been thrown way off schedule.
Anyway, the curse gets broken, and all the memories from the loops come rushing back to the citizens of Pelican Town & time catches up with the rest of the world (causing a mass migraine event & ruining all of Cas's crops).
Cas & Harvey get married & live happily ever after, the end.
#cas#sdv oc#fan oc#all details are of course subject to change#don't ask why i made harvey's last name be emerson. i like how in the Case History fics his surname is Greenwood but i didn't wanna copy#& for some reason I think Emerson suits him.
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SPN Stay At Home Challenge
Week 8: Hope
The angels have fallen, Heaven is broken, Castiel burns through a grace that isn't his own. Everything seems hopeless, but Dean is determined to help his homesick, heartbroken angel and give him a home on Earth.
Words: ~1.5k
also posted on ao3
Hope in the Form of One Small Bee
Dean is worried about Castiel. The angel has been holed up for days in the room he and Dean share in the bunker, hardly speaking, hardly moving. Dean knows a thing or two about hiding away in his room, but in those hopeless days he distracted himself with music, with drinking, with crap TV and horror flicks. Castiel lies on their bed in silence, curled up in one of Dean’s old T-shirts, and the sight makes Dean want to crumple.
Sam says, talk to him, but Dean isn’t good with words, he knows that. So he invites Castiel on a drive. He even offers to let Castiel get behind the wheel, but Castiel only shakes his head and sinks in on the passenger side. They drive with the windows down, fast, because Dean hopes Castiel might find some resemblance in it to flying. But Castiel’s shoulders stay slumped as he stares out the window, and when they return to the bunker he retreats to their room without a word.
Sam says, give him time, but Dean is worried, scared, and that makes every quiet day stretch on interminably. He finds himself spending hours in the library, staying behind when Sam goes on errands and cases because, if Castiel does leave their bedroom, Dean doesn’t want him coming out to an empty bunker. Seated in one of the library’s leather armchairs, Dean reads more than he has in years, pores over dusty, thick volumes on angels: their wings, their powers, their grace. None cover how to help a homesick angel.
Even though he knows angels don’t eat, he feels compelled to bring Castiel food, hopes a familiar meal might spark a happy memory. Castiel takes the peanut butter and jelly sandwich Dean offers him, but when Dean returns an hour later, there’s only one bite missing and Castiel says, thank you, but it doesn’t taste like anything.
Sam says, it can’t be easy, losing his home, his family. Using a grace that isn’t his own. Being an angel among humans. Every night, Dean sinks under the covers, wraps his arms around Castiel and holds him close. Sometimes Castiel nestles up against him and Dean believes his angel will become his old self again, and sometimes Castiel doesn't move, as if Dean isn’t there, and Dean feels hollow inside.
When he whispers, I love you, and presses a kiss to Castiel’s forehead, Castiel whispers, very softly, I love you too, and Dean hopes it means he hasn’t failed this angel who he loves, but doesn’t know how to help. Castiel never cries. That’s an answer Dean can’t find in any of his books: Do angels cry?
It’s when Dean is on an errand, Sam convincing him to leave the bunker for the first time in days, that he realizes it. He stares at a stuffed crochet bee—yellow and black stripes, two antennas, small black eyes, white wings, thin line of a smile (one stitch out of place but it adds personality)—and realizes Castiel doesn’t have any belongings. Even his clothes, the suit and trench coat, are originally another’s.
This reminded me of you, he tells Castiel and feels silly holding out such a trivial thing, offering a stuffed animal to an Angel of the Lord. But Castiel takes the bee from him and gazes at it. This is for me? he asks, tracing the bee’s smile. It’s yours, Dean says.
Castiel looks up at him with a small smile of his own that creates a flutter of hope inside Dean. Thank you.
This, at least, is something Dean knows he can do—give Castiel things, material things he can hold in his hands, that will ground him to Earth. He buys Castiel a fluffy, blue blanket—its color the closest approximation to Castiel’s eyes he can find—cotton shirts with pockets and stripes, a yellow bath towel. He places books on the nightstands in their room: westerns with amber and rust covers, a children’s book about a boy and his dog which he thinks Castiel will appreciate because the dog is named Sam. A small plant sitting in a teal pot, its curling green leaves tinged yellow down the center. A mug which says, Morning, Handsome, and which he tries to hide from Sam when he makes tea for Castiel every morning and night (because even if Castiel can’t savor the taste, seeing him sit up to hold the mug and breathe in the steam, drink in the warm liquid, gives Dean a similar warmth inside).
They’re yours, Dean says, repeats. All yours. He hopes it is enough.
Castiel takes every item in his hands when Dean returns from long shopping trips, turns them over and studies them. In the days that follow, Dean finds him bent over his books, turning the pages slowly, sees him returning from a shower wrapped in his yellow towel. In the morning, Dean wakes as Castiel rises to water his plant and trace its leaves with his finger. The stuffed bee takes up permanent residence on their bed and Dean pretends to grumble—You’ve left me for him. Castiel hugs his bee defensively and Dean can’t help but smile.
Castiel wears his new shirts—they are very soft—and sits on the floor in the laundry room, reading, waiting for his clothes to emerge clean and warm. Sometimes, Dean catches Castiel watching through the dryer’s glass door as his stuffed bee tumbles inside in a rough imitation of a bumblebee’s corkscrew flight. Castiel’s quiet listlessness, the droop of his shoulders as he pulls his bee out and holds it against his chest, fills Dean with an anxious doubt. How can warm cotton and yarn ever replace the light and warmth of Heaven that Castiel sunned under for millennia?
His name is Buzziel, Castiel says one night as Dean pushes the bee aside to take the angel in his arms. Dean hugs both Castiel and this strangely named bee. Buzziel? he asks, stressing the -iel. Is he an angel bee?
Castiel nods and Dean watches him run his finger along Buzziel’s wings. And Dean realizes that no matter what he buys Castiel, an angel will always miss Heaven.
I’m sorry, Cas. Castiel doesn’t speak and Dean learns angels do cry.
Sam shows Castiel a video of Marie Kondo and the earth-bound angel spends hours folding his new clothes into neat bundles and organizing them in his new dresser. He frowns down at his plant, at its wilting leaves turning brown at the edges. If I had my grace I could heal you. Dean introduces Castiel to nature documentaries and they watch for hours and hours. Most shows are slow and plodding, but Dean finds comfort in the weight of Castiel leaning against him, the way Castiel holds Buzziel on his lap, his rapt focus.
They watch a documentary on beekeeping and Dean points to a bee seated on a purple flower. There’s Buzziel. Castiel smiles so he starts naming every bee on the screen, Samiel, Bobbiel, Jodiel, hoping to keep Castiel’s smile on his face for a little longer. He feels the hollow space in his chest filling with something like hope, something he doesn’t want to acknowledge for fear it will disappear and leave him emptier than ever before.
When he wakes one morning, it seems his fears are realized because the space next to him is empty, save for Buzziel staring at him with his crooked smile.
He and Sam search the bunker and just when he grabs the keys for Baby to search outside, the bunker door creaks open and Castiel walks down the stairs. There’s dirt on his bare feet and he’s holding his plant. She needed sunshine.
Dean breathes a sigh of relief, pulls Castiel close, hears the crinkle of leaves. I thought you left. He holds Castiel at arm’s length to look in his eyes. I know this isn’t Heaven. But I’ll buy you anything you want. Anything to make this feel like home.
Castiel stares back at him, his eyes serious, his hands around his potted plant. Heaven isn’t my home anymore. My home is here with you, he looks over Dean’s shoulder at Sam, and you.
And Buzziel, Dean says. Castiel smiles. And Buzziel. A relief Dean hadn’t dared hope for fills the bleakness inside him and he pulls Castiel close, feels the warmth of the sun on Castiel’s clothes, his bare arms and dark hair, a reassurance that Castiel will be alright.
Thanks to @bend-me-shape-me @pray4jensen @helianthus21 for creating this challenge, and I just have to give credit to this week 3 fic by @wingtrap for sparking the idea for this fic :)
Tagging: @spnwaywardone @good-things-do-happen-dean @becky-srs
Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in my spn fics :)
#spnstayathome#deancas fic#destiel#set sometime in season 9#i need to stop writing sad cas fics#and let this angel be happy for once#maybe next week#fingers crossed#expectingtoflywrites
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Suptober20 - Day 28 Hellscape
Fic Summary: Among Us Crossover AU where Dean is a crewmate headed to the Polus outpost on the frozen hellscape of Mars. But he may not make it there alive, because someone in their crew is an imposter that enjoys chopping humans into small pieces.
Dean opens the electrical panel in the navigation room, and reaches in to his toolbox for a voltage detector. He wills his hands to be steady, but he is a nervous wreck. Dean is worried about the success of this mission, the safety of his crewmates, and his chances of survival. He is on a supposedly routine mission to prepare the latest Mars colony for habitation, but his crewmates keep getting chopped into pieces. Out of the original ten person crew, only seven are still alive. The PA system crackles to life, "Dead body reported! Dead body reported!" Dean dashes to the cafeteria where the rest of his crewmates have gathered to discuss. "I saw Kelly standing over the dead body!" Kaia yells. "I was upset! Donatello had been cut in half. I'll try to remember to skip the tears after you get murdered," Kelly responds. "Kelly sounds pretty sus to me," Benny sneers. "Where was the body found?" Castiel asks. "In the reactor room," Kaia replies. "Okay, everyone listen up! Someone in this room is an imposter masquerading among us, and it falls on us to discover the truth and identify the cold-blooded killer before they can strike again," Kevin tells his crewmates. "Jeez, shouldn't we just turn around and head back to Earth," Dean speaks up. "No, we can handle this ourselves Dean. We can jettison the murderer into space, and then do our mission. Let’s keep it democratic, everyone will have a chance to vote for who they think the murderer is," Kevin speaks authoritatively, but Dean just shakes his head in disbelief. "I vote Kelly," Castiel says. "Well, I vote Castiel," Kelly says with icy disdain. "Kelly," Benny states. "Kelly," Kaia says. "Yeah, I think Kelly too." Kevin says. Everyone looks to Dean to cast his vote. "What? It sounds like you've already decided," Dean complains. "Everyone has to vote Dean." Kevin tells him.
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"Okay, I vote Castiel," Dean says. Just something about Castiel seems a little bit off. Like he's playing at being human, but doesn't quite understand the rules. Of course, he could just be socially awkward, and if that is the case, then Dean feels pretty lousy of accusing him of murder. "It's decided then,” Kevin says matter of factly. “Kelly has been found guilty by the majority of her peers, so by the authority granted to me by the HostCorp you will be executed by ejection into the vacuum of space. May God have mercy on your soul." Kelly resists, but she is roughly pushed into the decompression chamber that provides ingress and egress for the spaceship. Dean watches her face stare back at them haughtily. Kevin opens the outer bay doors, and her body is sucked into the void of space. "Great, now that the murderer is gone. We all have tasks to do. Let's get them done so we can make safe landing on Mars," Kevin commands the crew. ~~ Maybe Kevin had been right after all, Dean thinks to himself. The ship had just landed safely on the Polus station on Mars. And after sending Kelly into space, there had been no more murders although there had been a couple close calls with damaged systems. For instance, the O2 system failed and they just managed to get it rebooted before they all died of oxygen deprivation. Then the reactor had nearly melted down, which would also have caused the catastrophic death of the entire crew. But the cursed crew managed to land at the outpost against all odds. "I'm going to report to HQ. Check your tablets for your tasks crewmates," Kevin tells everyone after they disembark the spaceship. Dean looks out at the frozen wasteland of Polus. The space station is on the northern pole of Mars, and it reminds him of the old expression of "when hell freezes over." He powers up his tablet, and pulls up his task list. One of the tasks catches his eye, "Monitor Tree." That sounds like an easy, short task to knock out first. And he is feeling sentimental about getting to see things from Earth like a tree and grass. Dean pulls up his map to find the O2 laboratory, so he can find his way around the unfamiliar outpost. Dean enters the O2 lab, and he breathes in deeply the fresh air from the vegetation. He walks up to the monitor panel and makes the necessary adjustments to bring the readings to the specified levels. He then turns to look at his next task, but he catches some unexpected motion out of the corner of his eye. "Uh, hey Cas. How did you just vent out of that hole? That seems like a pretty impossible thing to be able to do," Dean rambles nervously to the crewmember that just apparated into the room over a hole in the ground. Apparently, Kelly was innocent, because Dean feels certain that Castiel is not what he seems. And Dean is certain he is about to be the imposter’s next victim. "I didn't realize that task was so short," Castiel admits. "But that doesn't matter for you. I hope you had a good life Dean, and if you didn’t you can feel glad that you won’t ever have to suffer again. Your death will be swift and mostly painless, and I think you will find me more merciful than many members of your own species." "So you're not human?" Dean tries to delay the inevitable with banter while he looks around wildly for some kind of weapon. "No, I am an angel of the lord. You are just perceiving my vessel, Jimmy Novak," Castiel replies. "Oh, well your vessel is pretty hot," Dean hopes this imposter can be diverted by flirting. "No, the temperature of my vessel is 37 degrees Celsius or 98.7 degrees Fahrenheit. That is within normal range for a human." Castiel tells Dean. "I meant you're vessel is very attractive," Dean can't tell if the angel is messing with him or not. But he thinks anything is better than getting chopped into pieces, so he can play along if that gives him a chance to prolong his life. "I'm above mundane things like physical attraction, Dean," Castiel says. "I just like killing humans for sport, but Heaven usually notices, and then I get thrown in the dungeon to stew for a millenia or two. But Heaven doesn't seem to care what happens to humans outside of Earth." "That sounds very clever of you to figure out Cas," Dean tells Castiel. "Yes, I do like to think of myself as the cleverest angel of the garrison," Castiel puffs up with pride and nods in agreement with Dean. "Can I ask why kill humans for sport? Can't you take up frisbee golf or something else less homicidal?" Dean asks the imposter. "I was given the task of watching humanity a long, long time ago. And humans can be so boring. So I just randomly kill a bunch every now and then. There is no malice in my actions. I just consider humanity to be on the level of ants, but maybe lower because I actually have a fondness for insects." Castiel discloses to Dean. "That sounds very reasonable, Cas. But you know some humans can be the total opposite of boring," Dean says while considering his next move. Okay, Dean thinks, if movies have taught me anything, it’s that getting a villain to monologue usually gives the good guy a chance to win. If he can just get Castiel to ramble, he can probably escape alive and report Castiel to the crew or maybe even slay the imposter himself. "I suppose you want me to believe you are one of those non-boring humans," Castiel comments and tilts his head to one side considering Dean. "Yup! Today is your lucky day, Cas. Because I am the most non-boring human since the dawn of Creation." Dean sells his lie with confidence. He would have thought his life before was very boring, but how many humans have to outsmart a homicidal angel. Maybe he is more non-boring than he realized. "Okay, I'm waiting to be entertained." Castiel tells Dean. Shit, this guy just doesn't want to monologue, Dean thinks to himself. So Dean needs some way to entertain an angel before he becomes sliced and diced all over the O2 laboratory. He vaguely remembers a story about a lady that had to tell her captor 1,001 tales to avoid death. Maybe if he can tell enough stories he can make it off this Hell rock in one piece after all. "Have you ever heard the tale of the Killer Stuffed Dinosaur in Love?" Dean asks the imposter. "No, but I'll admit it does sound entertaining," Castiel relaxes and sits in the grass with his legs criss-crossed, and looks expectantly at Dean to start. Dean begins to weave his story, and keeps careful watch of Castiel. He vigilantly watches the angel for some sign of momentary distraction, so he can seize the chance to raise an alarm or make a run for it. But in the meantime, he remembers back to storytime with his mom. When he and his brother would sit up in their beds to listen to their mom tell fantastic stories about witches, vampires, ghouls, wendigos, demons, ghosts, werewolves, fairies, and magic. And his mom told them with such love and care that he never felt bored by them. On the contrary, they were warm, fluffy comforts when reality did the best to beat him down. If anything could save him now, he was hopeful it would be the love of his mother that would keep him safe from the homicidal monster waiting for him to fail. “Dead body reported!” the PA system crackles. “Umm... is there more than one of you on this outpost?” Dean asks Castiel. “No, but I did kill Benny before venting into the O2 lab,” Castiel confesses. “I am hoping I can rely on your discretion at the discussion.” “Uh, sure Cas,” Dean lies. Castiel disappears through the hole in the ground somehow. Dean walks over to the hole in the ground, but nothing magical happens to help him teleport through it. Dean decides lying to a homicidal angel is okay, because he is going to meet up with his crew and tell everyone Castiel is in fact the imposter. Dean is the last crewmate to join the discussion. “So there is only four of us left, Kaia was with me until we stumbled on Benny’s body. So the murderer must be Castiel or Dean,” Kevin declares. “Maybe he died of natural causes,” Castiel suggests. “Really? You think his body naturally got sliced to ribbons?” Kaia shouts. “Uh, it seems possible, even if it’s not probable.” Castiel says thoughtfully. “Guys, it was Castiel. He has been the imposter all along. He was going to kill me in the O2 laboratory,” Dean tells the crew. Castiel cocks an eyebrow at Dean, but says nothing in his own defense. “I don’t know Dean. I think the murderer would be eager to cast shade on other crew mates. How do we know we can trust you?” Kevin says. “I can’t believe you have been chopping up people Dean. What kind of a person does that!?!” Kaia shakes her head in disapproval. “Look! I’m telling you the truth. Castiel is an Angel of the Lord, and he is supposed to be watching humanity. But I guess he thinks watching humanity like a reality tv show is boring, so he likes to mix things up with murder sprees,” Dean tells them. “That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard, Dean,” Kevin says. “I vote Dean,” Kaia says. “I vote Castiel of course!” Dean tells the crew passionately. “I vote Dean,” Kevin says. “I vote Kevin,” Castiel tells the crew. “Dean, you have been found--”, Kevin begins, but is interrupted by getting murdered by Castiel. “Oh shit! Castiel was the imposter!” Kaia runs screaming out of the room. Dean is not sure what just happened. Did Castiel save him from death by space vacuum, or did his bloodthirsty tendencies just kick in? Dean wonders. Dean stumbles out of the room, and sees Castiel standing over the corpse of Kaia. “So, Cas... any reason in particular why you killed my crewmates?” Dean asks the angel. “They were going to execute you. They were not fit to be your judge and executioner,” Castiel says. “You bravely spoke the truth, even though I had threatened your life. It reminded me of the dinosaur, in your story, that bravely stood up to the menacing spider king to save the trans princess after she had been cursed into the shape of a frog. Although, I think the princess should have been able to save herself, a frog should be able to eat a spider.” “Well, it was a very large spider,” Dean laughs. It was kind of nice that the killer angel had in fact been paying attention to his fairy tale made up in desperation. “So, what happens now Castiel?” Dean asks the homicidal angel. “I don’t know. I had expected to have been ejected out of the space station by now, but the vacuum of space won’t kill me. There are very few things that will kill an angel,” Castiel muses. “I don’t suppose you will tell me about the things that can kill an angel,” Dean says doubtfully. “Stabbed in a vital area by an angel blade, attempting to exit a ring of holy fire, certain spells from a powerful enough book of witchcraft, a stronger cosmic being like leviathans, archangels, Death, God, Darkness, or the Cosmic Entity,” Castiel enumerates the means of his destruction. “Darn, it appears I left my leviathan in my other pants. I guess you win this round Castiel. Uh, thanks for saving me for last I guess. Do you think I will go to Heaven?” Dean asks. “My mother, she passed away, and she was such a kind person I’m sure she is in Heaven. Sometimes I feel like she is just behind me watching over me, and if I can just turn fast enough I will catch a glimpse of her.” “That’s a nice sentiment Dean,” Castiel says. “But I’m not able to predict where human souls will go when their physical body is dead. I am also not fit to be anyone’s judge. But I can check if your mother, Mary Winchester, is in Heaven.” Castiel disappears before Dean gets a chance to ask how the angel knew his mother’s name, but maybe that was just an angel thing. Dean heads to the maintenance shed to get a shovel. He wants to dig suitable graves for Kevin and Kaia. Paying his respects is the most he can do for them now. Dean is patting the soil flat on top of the graves after burying his crewmates, and he wonders if Castiel is ever planning on coming back or if he found more unsuspecting humans to murder. He decides to go back to the O2 lab and rest under the tree. The lab is comforting and fills his thoughts with childhood memories of climbing trees with Sammy in the woods and late nights playing manhunt with the neighbors. Castiel would definitely find his childhood version of manhunt boring, basically it was just hide and seek in the dark, but when you were a kid late nights outside just felt liberating. “You’re mother and father are in a shared Heaven, Dean,” Castiel reports. “Oh, hey Cas,” Dean looks up from where he was dozing by the roots. “Thanks for looking into it for me. I think I’m ready to be killed now. I know you can’t tell me where my soul will go, but I’m at peace with this being the end. I would have liked a longer life, but no one ever promised me life was fair. And I have had a really good life so far. Just try to look out for Sam Winchester if you can. Maybe I can call him one more time and warn him to stay out of space, so you don’t end up hunting him during one of your murder sprees. I’d rather he lived a long time and died an old man.” “That’s not necessary Dean,” Castiel says staring down at where Dean is still dozing. “I think I will give murder a break. I would have stopped earlier, but Kaia and Kevin presented a threat to your safety.” “Okay, Cas,” Dean says unsure how much he can trust the words of this cold-blooded angel. “I think it’s very nice of you to give up killing humans for a bit. Did I tell you my brother Sammy gave up eating meat? He’s a vegetarian. I think you would really like Sammy, because everyone likes him. He is the best man I have ever known.” “He sounds very impressive then,” Castiel agrees. “If you don’t feel like killing me, are we just going to keep hanging out together on Polus?” Dean asks. “I guess so,” Castiel nods. “I haven’t really thought things through.” “Okay, I’m really beat after everything today Cas. I need to get some sleep,” Dean says while stifling a yawn. “I’ll watch over you then,” Castiel says. “That is so random of you Cas,” Dean mumbles. “How did you just go from angel of death to guardian angel? I’m not complaining though, I like being alive. I definitely prefer being alive with guardian angel beside me to dead with killer angel beside me.” “Here Dean, I got you a pillow and blanket. I think these things make sleeping more comfortable for humans,” Castiel drops the mentioned objects where Dean is laying down. “Yeah, your thinking was right. Very comfortable for humans,” Dean mumbles as he wraps himself into a cocoon in the blanket. “Today was so random. If I wake up and you kill me tomorrow, no hard feelings okay Cas? Like I’m not going to pretend I’m something special and that a crazy, killer angel would be reformed after having one conversation with me.” “Okay, Dean that seems fair,” Castiel nods. Then Castiel sits in the grass besides Dean, and he watches over the human as he snores peacefully. Hanging out with Dean sounded like a nice change of pace for the killer angel. And he cast out his mind to pinpoint where Sam Winchester was on Earth. It sounded like the health and safety of Sam was important to Dean, so that made it important to Castiel, too.
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More Than Enough
Remember that self indulgent crack ship holiday fic I was writing about Cassian and Feyre? And how I couldn’t seem to mix the past with the present?
It’s a fic now. Still in the same AU just like... the year before. Leading up to the cheesy ass nonsense it is now. Originally it was going to be angsty at first but I think we have enough of that in our real life. If you haven’t read the crackship holidays featuring these two dumbasses, start here or on AO3.
Also. I promise all my other fics are not being abandoned.
I’ve had a playlist to listen to when writing them but it is so incredibly inappropriate if you understand spanish. and i haven’t made it onto spotify yet. But this song reminded me of them and that’s where the title comes from. Which is funny because Alina is who i put beside Toni Mafud as Rhys and Feyre whenever fan casts come up. ANYWAY.
Let’s follow Feyre as she thirsts after her best friend.
.
.
.
I blame it on the music.
Cassian lost his shirt about half an hour ago and is doing pull ups. The garage door is open, letting in the cold winter air. My fingers are cold but I don’t like wearing gloves when sketching. I had been working on hands and eyes but once he tossed his shirt… It’s not like I’ve never seen Cassian without a shirt on before. Between him and his brothers, they seem to always find an excuse to not wear one. But the difference is I don’t find myself daydreaming about what it would be like to run my fingers down their backs.
It’s definitely the music.
Even if I didn’t understand the words, the beat itself is way too sensual to not be about anything else but sex. But the lyrics and Cassian’s sweaty, half naked body mixed with the fact that I haven’t had sex in months is probably the worst mix. I am not supposed to be imagining sleeping with my best friend.
I clear my throat, startling Valo who was falling asleep at my feet.
“Sorry, baby, I need a drink.”
I set my sketch book and pencil down on the crate beside my chair.
“Would you get me a drink, bunny?” Cas breathes out and my face flushes all the more. I didn’t need another detail to this stupid daydream.
“Yeah,” I squeak and head into the house. I already know his post workout drink recipe by heart. I drink ice cold water while the blender is going.
Cassian is suspended in the air, holding his entire body parallel to the floor with his hands. Goddamn him. He drops his head back so that he’s looking at me upside down and he smiles.
“I love you,” he says and I roll my eyes.
“I’ll love you more if you don’t bust your ass.”
He chuckles and just to drive the nail in the coffin that is my desire to be the reason he’s making noises like that, he slowly lowers his body and resumes his pull ups. I set his cup on the table where he has his tools and go back to sit down.
Cassian drops down and walks over to his mat to do his cool down stretches. A new song comes on and the words are so filthy that I find myself staring at him. His tattoos. My ex-boyfriend had always believed I was into Cassian- and I wasn’t. But I wasn’t blind and I’ve been at his house almost every single day since Thanksgiving- he is always without a shirt.
It’s just the music.
“Plan on drawing me?” Cassian asks and I blink. I look away from his tattooed chest and to his face. He is smirking. Shit.
“Uh. Yeah. What better way to do anatomy studies than with a living reference?”
“Anatomy, huh?”
He flashes me a grin before he walks over to the table for his drink.
“Hey, what do you want for dinner?”
His question distracts me from looking at his ass.
“Uh, whatever you want… I’m not really craving anything.” Except you. I sigh and cover my face with my hands and lean over. I need a cold shower.
“Hey… You alright?” he asks softly.
I nod and slowly sit upright.
“I’m just… I’m fine. I promise.”
He doesn’t believe me but he walks over to grab his speaker.
“I love this song,” he says and starts to sing along to it as he gratefully goes back into the house.
Cassian meets me in the living room now dressed in a white tee and grey sweatpants. He lifts both my legs up so that he can sit down. This is normal. I always use his lap to rest my legs.
“I ordered Greek, I hope you don’t mind.”
“I told you, I’m not craving anything except-”
Fuck my entire life. Cassian raises a brow and I toss him the remote.
“Why don’t we finish your show so then we can watch my movie?”
This pacifies him and thankfully, his stupid show is so violent and bloody that all thoughts of fucking my best friend fade from my mind.
*
Our annual Christmas party is tonight and I’ve found an outfit. It is the kind of outfit Tamlin would have told me not to wear. It’s blood red and insanely inappropriate for winter with its spaghetti straps and super low neckline. Mor says it’s the perfect thing to wear after a break up and just the thought of all the pictures we’ll take with me and Cassian together makes me believe it.
I hang the dress up in the closet of Cassian’s bedroom. The heels are set beside his dress shoes and I can’t help but think about his reaction. Of dancing with him all night and coming back here and-
“Bunny!”
“I’m in the closet!”
I hear him chuckle.
“Shut up,” I call out and walk into the bedroom to find him pulling off his shirt. I feel my face go hot.
“I’m going to shower… do you want me to use the other bathroom?”
“What? No, this is your house,” I say far more casually than I feel. “Besides, we’ve got time, we can share.”
I want to punch myself in the face. Cassian starts to grin.
“The shower might be a little too small for the both of us but I’m sure we could find a way to-”
Cassian laughs when I smack his arm.
“Not exactly where I like being spanked but I’ll take it.”
“Oh my god, Cassian.”
He laughs and disappears into the bathroom. I force myself to leave the room when I hear the water.
*
Cassian walks into the kitchen in nothing but a towel, his hair wet, water dripping down his chest. He walks over and takes the sandwich from my hands.
“Fuck, we’re out of beer,” he mutters as he opens the fridge. I grab the second sandwich I made, expecting him to steal from my plate and force my gaze up. On his stupidly gorgeous face.
“I can go get some,” I say but he shakes his head and walks over to take my cup of iced tea.
“Are you cool with us taking a cab tonight?”
“Uh, yeah. I guess.”
Cassian drinks from my cup and sets it down before pinching my cheek.
“It’ll just be you and me,” he says softly. “So don’t worry about it.”
I blush at this and Cassian kisses my forehead.
“I’m gonna go get dressed. Thanks for the snack,” he says with a wink and walks away.
*
I keep my makeup rather muted; lip gloss and the usual winged liner. Nude eyeshadow. Cassian picked out the highlight and I have to admit, he chose well. My hair isn’t going to get any better, so I leave it in loose waves rather than the curls I’d wanted. I’ll leave that to Mor. I feel nervous, this is the first time since the breakup that I’m going out with all of our friends but Cassian will be there, and that’s enough to ease my nerves. Almost.
“Our ride is here,” Cas says as he walks into his bedroom. He stops and just stares. I approach him and hold out my ID card and debit card, needing to ignore the way his attention has me feeling.
“I don’t have pockets.”
“What?” He blinks and looks down at my hand. He laughs and pulls his wallet out. “You only need your ID.”
“Maybe so,” I say and reach out to smooth down the collar of his shirt while he puts my cards away. I remember my lip gloss and put it in his back pocket, giving him a wink.
Cassian holds my hand when we go outside, helping me down the steps and the driveway. It’s a regular occurrence, but I blush when he opens the door for me. And when he slides an arm around my shoulders when he sits down beside me. We take a bunch of pictures and call Cassian’s parents to check on Val- as if we hadn’t seen him an hour ago.
When we get to the club, Cassian holds my hand as we walk inside. Cassian and the boys are all friends with the owner, so we get to skip the line.
“Where are we going?” I ask as Cassian leads us up to the VIP lounge.
“Meeting up with Rhys.”
“What’s he doing up here?”
Cassian chuckles. “You know Rhys never passes a chance to be extra as fuck.”
I can’t argue with that.
Upstairs, Cassian helps me out of my coat. His fingers brush my skin and my mind takes a swan dive into the gutter.
“What do you say to a few drinks before we go downstairs?” he asks as he takes my hand. The bouncer outside the lounge acknowledges us with a nod.
“Yeah, I could use it.”
Cassian flashes me a grin and then opens the door.
“SURPRISE!” Everyone shouts and I find all of our friends standing under a Happy Birthday banner.
I am at a loss for words and Cassian laughs, bringing me further into the room. I’d completely forgotten about my birthday, I hadn’t cared enough to even think that anyone else would. But Elain is here with Az. So is Rhys and Lucien, Amren, Varian. Viv and Kallias, too. I’m separated from Cassian as I’m hugged and kissed by everyone. I realize Tarquin and Cresseida are here as well. Rhys is the one who breaks open the first bottle and we all stand around the little table to take shots.
“There is a cake,” Elain says as she hands me another shot. “But that’s later.”
“Later?”
She winks at me and shouts for Azriel.
“That’s my favorite song!” she exclaims and her husband happily ditches his brothers to go out and dance with his wife.
Lucien and Rhys pull me in for another hug as the others begin to trail down to the dance floor.
“You look good enough to eat,” Lucien mumbles and I laugh.
“Don’t tell me you’re already drunk, Luce.”
“We may have pregamed at the house,” Rhys admits. “But we took an uber! It’s okay.”
I roll my eyes.
“You both suck. I’m going to go find me two other cute boys to dance with. Boys who would have invited me to pregame with them and no amount of flirting is going to fix that.”
They begin to whine and I laugh, holding onto Rhysand’s forearms as they keep me caged between them.
“Alright! You win!” I say with a laugh and look over to find Cassian looking my way. He smiles.
I want to ask him to dance but Mor pulls him away before I can open my mouth.
We drink and dance and drink and dance and drink some more. I feel light headed and everything makes me laugh. But I haven’t danced with Cassian yet and that’s enough to dampen the mood. I push my way through the crowd until I find Cassian at the bar. I take the empty barstool beside him and sit down. I order myself a margarita before turning to face him.
“And where have you been all night?” I ask and Cassian smirks.
“Enjoying the night,” he says and takes a sip of his drink.
“Without me?”
I don’t understand the look in his eyes as he takes a sip of his drink. He sets the glass down and leans forward. I didn’t really understand just how short this dress was until he lays his hand on my thigh. If I turn my chair completely, if he moves his hand just an inch more…
“Yes,” he says and kisses me cheek. “But I think I’m about to enjoy it more now.”
“Why?” I manage to say. Cassian’s hand brushes my thigh as he sits upright.
“I’m about to go dance with my best friend.”
“Are you now?”
My drink is set before me and I grab it, chugging it down as Cassian slides off his chair. He turns mine so that I’m facing him completely and puts his hands on my hips.
“If she says yes, of course.”
I finish the last of my drink and set down the glass.
“When have I ever said no to you?”
Cassian grins.
I have danced with Cassian many times. At parties, at the beach, at clubs and bars and festivals. At his parents’ house. I should be used to the feeling of his body against mine, of his hands on me while we dance but not like this. I want nothing more than to take him back up to the lounge and push him down on the sofa or go find an empty bathroom stall.
But I don’t.
Birthday cake and alcohol isn’t the best mix, but I haven’t felt this alive in months. My face hurts from laughing, from smiling. My vision is spotty from all the pictures we’ve taken but I don’t care. Everything is right in the world.
“My feet hurt,” I complain and sit on Cassian’s lap.
“Want me to rub your feet?”
I shake my head and lean into him.
“No. Not until I’m showered.”
He laughs. “Okay.”
I sigh when he wraps his arms around me. He is so warm and smells so good, I want to stay this way forever.
“I think the birthday girl is done for the night,” Rhys says teasingly and I realize I was dozing off. I look up to see Rhys standing there with a stupid smirk on his face.
“Fuck you,” I say and curl up in Cassian’s arms. I feel his hand holding my dress down from showing everyone else my ass.
“Tempting,” Rhys says and then shoves his hands in his pockets. “But I think I’ll pass.”
I don’t think much of the look Rhys gives Cassian in favor of playing with his hair. I take way too much satisfaction in the knowledge that not everyone gets to do this, and that he enjoys it. Cassian seems to win whatever silent staring contest he and Rhys were having and Rhys rolls his eyes and goes after his boyfriend.
“You’re making me sleepy, bunny.”
“Good thing we’re going home together then,” I say before my mind catches up. But Cassian only chuckles and hugs me a little closer.
*
Cassian and I are a laughing mess as we stumble into the house. I lean on him to step out of my heels and he laughs as I shrug off my coat and toss it at him. We’re both trying to catch our breath, and I swat his hand away when he tries to tickle me again.
“I’m taking a shower,” I breathe out and walk off but he stops me.
“Wait,” he says and I turn to find him smiling.
“What?”
“Happy birthday,” he says softly and pulls me in for a hug. “I promise I’ll make you breakfast in the morning.”
��Hm… you really know the way to a girl’s heart, Cas.”
He pinches my side and I yelp.
“Go shower,” he says and kisses the top of my head.
“I won’t be long.”
My shower is clumsy and not at all relaxing. My feet hurt. So I put lotion on my body and grab the bottle of perfume that is on the dresser, except it’s not perfume but cologne. I shrug and put on Cassian’s Nirvana tee shirt and double check I actually have underwear on before I go looking for him.
“Cas?” The house is dark save for the light coming from his room. “My feet fucking hurt.”
He says something but I don’t understand it. His room is open and I step inside, finding him lying on his bed. He’s got basketball shorts on and his hair is loose.
“Bunny!” he says as if he hadn’t seen me all day. “I almost busted my ass in the shower.”
“Me, too.” I say with a laugh. “Maybe we should’ve showered together. It would’ve been safer that way.”
“I like the way you think, Archeron.”
He holds his hand out to me and when I’m close enough, he pulls me into bed with him. “You smell good.”
I snort. “I smell like you.”
“Exactly.”
I swat his arm but he ignores it, putting his arms around me.
“My feet hurt,” I complain, hoping he’ll make good on his promise.
“Just stay here,” he says simply.
My heart stops and starts too fast.
“Like… sleep here?” I ask too quietly.
“Mhm.” He goes quiet for a moment and then groans. “I forgot to turn the light off.”
“I can do it,” I say.
“No… Stay here.”
He goes quiet once more, and I let myself relax. We haven’t shared a bed since we were kids, playing video games until Adela would force us to go to bed. I smile at the thought and rest my head against his chest.
“Goodnight, Cas,” I say quietly, my eyes getting heavy.
“Goodnight, bunny,” he says and lets me go to stretch. Then he wraps his arms around me again and moves us so that we’re on our sides. He presses a kiss to my forehead and I close my eyes, letting the warmth of him lull me to sleep.
.
.
.
@mythicaitt @bookloveaffair @nalgenewhore @candid-confetti
#more than enough#cassian x feyre#crackship#and absolute self indulgence#him calling her bunny will be the end of me#i dont care what's canon#or that feyrhycien is everything to me
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Thanks for tagging me, @sanguinarysanguinity!
3 Ships: Oh, I have so many more than three, but at the moment Holmes/Watson, Dean/Cas, and Vimes/Vetinari are most on my mind.
Last Song: Ani DiFranco’s “Shy” (not the cover this time, the original). In my head it’s a Dean/Cas human AU song; the narrative voice is very Dean.
Last Movie: 2010: The Year We Make Contact (1984), the considerably less ambitious sequel to Stanley Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey. John had never seen 2001, and I hadn’t seen it in years, so we figured lockdown was as good a time as any to watch something so long, ponderous, and deliberately opaque. John’s verdict on 2001 was “oddly compelling,” and I agreed. To me it has a kind of ambiguity that reminds me of a modern art gallery -- almost purely visual storytelling + surreal sequences that can be read as ominous, horrifying, uplifting, or all of the above + a self-confidence that if explanations are refused then the viewer will be engaged to interpret for themselves. By comparison, 2010 is much more conventional and kind of hokey, but nevertheless I genuinely enjoy it, especially the climactic countdown sequence with HAL.
Currently Reading: In the world of fic, I’m currently following a couple of wonderful WIPs. Ias just posted Unraveling, a continuation of their excellent Les Mis mythological AU in which Javert is the minotaur in the maze. It’s poignant and beautifully written; I’m very much looking forward to reading more. I’m also following PallasPerilous’s ongoing A/B/O Destiel series, Inversions, which is screamingly funny and simultaneously trenchant, heartbreaking, and observant in that way that Pallas can somehow pull off so seamlessly. And in the Holmesian world, I very much enjoyed Garonne’s recent H/W romance and case fic, The Adventure of the Vatican Cameos.
In the world of books, I just started Elizabeth Hinton’s From the War on Poverty to the War on Crime: The Making of Mass Incarceration in America. Hinton studied with Eric Foner as her advisor when she was getting her PhD, and his Reconstruction: America’s Unfinished Revolution, 1863-1877 is one that I’d like to revisit as well.
Currently Watching: I’m not watching any TV shows at the moment, but Supernatural will air its final seven episodes from October to November. They are going to depress and upset me, but I’ll be watching them nonetheless.
Craving: Appropriate educational placement for my son. We’ve been trying to achieve that for a solid year now. His teachers and therapists turned in the necessary paperwork in January, and the city administration has just sat on it with no action for all these months. They have ignored my emails asking if anyone is working on the case, whether they need any more information, or what the next steps should be. We finally reached the point where we decided to contact our state’s disability rights advocate group, so we’ll see if anything comes of that. BLURGH.
tagging: anyone who wants to, seriously!
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Disclaimer: I’m your friendly neighborhood, drop a Fan Fic on you guys when you least expect it, generally pterodactyl screeching fan, but today I went on an emotional journey. It’s with a show called Make Our Days Count. I did it, up to episode 9, because the source I used has episode ten locked for 2 days without an account. Good, that’s fine. I need 2 days. If you want to read how it affected me, click keep reading. Or keep scrolling…
Knowing the outcome or not knowing the outcome of Make Our Days Count doesn’t matter. It’s still an emotional story. I dived into it backwards because I already knew the ending. It didn’t help. Not one iota. Was some of the script twisted by context? Yes, because any mention about a passage of time, like: I want more New’s Years Eves with you. We have five months left. We have one day…Xi Gu’s birthday…every mention about the passage of time hurt like hell.
You ever watch something and wonder if you’re actually feeling emotional trauma or if you’re guiltily and stupidly projecting that emotion onto a fictional story?
I said it already that I dived in backwards. I knew the outcome of the show. It involves a car and deep in my subconscious is always buried memories…okay, maybe not too buried because this show dredged them up. It wasn’t necessarily the happenstance, the act, “the intersection…” that gives me a visceral reaction. No, it was actually the scene where Xi Gu asked (and I’m paraphrasing) but he asks Hao Ting, “Would this be different if my parents were still alive?” The context being, would this be the same? Would I be the same Xi Gu? Would I be different? Would we have met?
When I was 9 there was a car accident. Me, my brother (7), my Mom. We rarely ever talked about it then, still don’t to this day. My Mom once told me that she saw me and my brother be afraid of getting into a car with her after it happened…I have no memory of that but I can’t deny that for my Mom. Thing is, I am not sure if anyone had ever listened to me when at 9, I told them I saw the accident. Did I remember at it 9 or did I remember it years later when I wasn’t excited to drive like a normal teenager at 16? The car spun out on the highway. I saw the windshield and the back-windshield break. Somehow my brother’s seatbelt came undone. I saw him lurching forward as glass hit the back his head. I felt nothing but the spinning. Then we stopped. I immediately saw my mother’s head lopped back onto the seat, blood dripping down the side of her head. People were at our windows asking if we’re okay…I kept saying, “this didn’t happen. This didn’t happen.” Panic and shock set in. Later, we find out the car had hit on my mother’s (the driver’s side obviously) so her and my brother who had sat behind her that day had major injuries. I had seatbelt bruises and got to go home with my Aunt. My mother was taken to a separate hospital (we lived in a small CA town) an hour away because of the head injury. My brother had to stay overnight because they suspected spinal injuries.
A few days later, prior to my “third grade graduation” someone told me, who? Or was it because of the local newspaper, yes we were in the newspaper? I don’t know. I hope it wasn’t a family member, but somehow the information is so vivid:
You know, if the car had t-boned your car any more than it did, your mother probably would’ve been dead.
Would this car accident be less traumatic inside my mind if someone hadn’t told me that? Or would it still be the same feeling no matter what? What would my life be like if I had lost my mother 20 years ago? Would I be sitting here in this apartment, oh wait I know that wouldn’t happen. I wouldn’t have lived in Iowa because my mother didn’t meet my step-father who had a job that transferred us here. One dreadful circumstance also being my half-sister would never exist if our mother had died [this detail is ever apparent to my mother as well]. So, details and circumstances change, I change, what stays the same?
When I did start learning to drive (at 20-21) and we somehow talked about this my mother and I, she told me that somehow, she believed the car had to hit on her side. In her mind, she concocted this theory that if it hit on my side, I wouldn’t have been spared.
Now, I chuckle because the intention behind the story, of Make Our Days Count, ACTUALLY hit home for me. Do I still opt for a survival storyline? Duh, yes, if it were me I’d find several versions to make Xi Gu survive. Including using the original.
Thing is, I also now want to do something that is mighty appreciative towards my mother. Almost want to get in the car and drive to her house (ironically) and hug her but then that would mean I have to face the emotionally vulnerable state I’m in. Giving her the explanation...of why’d you just show up at the house? [sidebar: I just realized that strangely I can watch movies where cars are crashing, exploding, etc etc, but this fictional story with Hao Ting x Xi Gu hit home? Also reminds me of way back when in our mall there was a wrecked car on display and just footage of local local wrecks playing on a TV...my mom can stop to watch. I walk away, even covering my peripheral vision for fear of seeing that TV...)
Back to it...my brother he’s alive, there was no permeant spinal injuries. Guess what happened to him? He became a 26-year-old alcoholic, totaled a car recently….
All that personal shit aside, the story of Xi Gu x Hao Ting is worthy to watch. Worthy to see them come together, even if the ending was and is a punch to the gut. Which reminds me of something else I nitpicked at because I knew the outcome. Hey! Xi Gu your wallet it’s on the table. Not hiding in the bottom of the bag. That’s tricky and cheating, ya universe! No, it’s in plain sight, just as Xi Gu grabs the door and Hao Ting says, Babe! Your wallet. Smiley faces as he hands it over to him.
Then you go back to that question, “would it be different if my parents were still alive?” Would it be different if the wallet had been in plain sight? Their intentions about cherishing, love etc, for me it actually worked.
#make our days counts#hao ting x xi gu#personal#maybe too personal...but it happened#shouldn't spout this shit on here#should probably talk to a license therapist#but ya know#how else can I say the show effected me when this is what happened?
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tcoat: 1, 2, 5, 9, 15. (I'm sorry, I'm just... a mighty curious person, lol D:) (Also, don't be surprised one day if I ask to do an interview with you. I've been known to do that with a few people, ah ha....)
1: What inspired you to write the fic this way?
i thought ‘FAKE RELATIONSHIP’ and then i thought ‘ANGSTY BACKSTORY’ and then i thought ‘CANON MANIPULATION’ and then went wild from there hoo boy
2: What scene did you first put down?
one that never fully made the cut, actually. if you’re curious i can post it here. the only thing i kept in the story was the coffee scene:
Sam watched silently over the rim of his coffee mug as Cas shuffled, hair astray and shirt hanging much too loosely on his ever-shrinking frame, to the coffee pot. Across the table, Dean watched him out of the corner of his eye while also failing to remain nonchalant and read the newspaper.
Cas pushed the ‘on’ button and filled the coffee pot with water. Pouring it into the machine, he stared at it impatiently as it began to warm up.
Sam cleared his throat, finally unable to stand the tension in the room. “So, uh… Dean, want to check out that case in Lawrence today?”
“Uh-huh,” Dean replied distractedly, eyes still on Cas’ back.
“We haven’t accepted a hunt in a while,” Sam reminded him, gently but firmly. “Maybe it would be good to get out a bit. Maybe take…” He trailed off, head subtly tilted in Cas’ direction.
Dean frowned; shook his head. “I don’t...”
Cas turned and fixed the brothers with a hard stare. “I want to join you on a hunt,” he declared. It was the first sentence he spoke in a while.
Dean’s expression grew stony. “No, Cas. Bad idea. You literally just turned human weeks ago—you really wanna take that new mortality of yours out for a test drive and get killed?”
“I wouldn’t,” Cas grumbled, turning back to the coffee machine.
“Answer’s no, dude,” Dean said.
(etc. etc.)
5: What part was hardest to write?
uhh ALL OF IT. but in all honesty, the last 3 chapters. they totally kicked my ass. but i think that’s the case for a lot of fics? when you get to the culmination of everything, and have to start tying things up, it gets overwhelming.
9: Were there any alternate versions of this fic?
tons. i went a lot of different directions before i settled on this version. Faith as a monster took a lot of different turns, too. I originally had her as a perky blonde (sort of like May) that hit on Dean a lot. I also changed the backstory of how Cas became human a LOT before settling on the (admittedly) simplest one. i’m actually gonna write a concept i thought of into another fic, i think!
15: What did you learn from writing this fic?
how to weave the flashbacks into the present. not sure how successful i was - but i learned how hard it is :p
[ask me writing things]
#also i would love to do an interview with you! :D#that sounds fun#the cost of a thing#bekindplsrewind
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satinalia;
hey demons its me ya boy anyway everyone’s doing christmas fics so i wanted to do one with padril and loghain bc of course i did. this is the first time i’ve written them with their kids, too!
as per usual, super unedited and super unplanned, lmao. sorry 🤷♀️ (this will also be on AO3 soon!)
—
Snow crunches softly under his boots as he moves, and the cold winter air bites at his cheeks, turns them rose-red.
Loghain loves the cold. It’s a part of Ferelden he will never, ever tire of; he could be anywhere in Thedas, really, and it— and the rain— would remind him of home. Of days spent farming while rainwater pools in his boots, of nights where it did nothing but snow.
Home. He’s skirting the perimeter of their small home, now, actually, following the sounds of shouts and giggles; the home itself is wood and stone, only an hour or two from Denerim, but tucked away from the road so they’d be free of distractions. It was quiet and secluded enough that even Anora could visit them, and she did— often.
It’s funny— he wasn’t sure they’d ever settle down again. Not after the Warden Rebellion, not after the… well, whatever it was Inquisitor Cadash had dealt with. And yet here they were; only a week out from Satinalia, five years from when they first settled here.
He had thought he wouldn’t come home to his family at all.
Loghain watches Valarie sprint with wild abandon at her brother, her roar loud enough he’s sure Denerim can hear it.
She wears a thick, wolf-fur coat, her boots a tad too big for her little legs. In her hands, a wooden sword and shield; she reminds him too much of Anora, all orders and demands. When she was seven, Valarie had become enamoured with Ser Cauthrien; she’d seen her wallop Loghain while sparring, and it was if the child had never seen anything more hilarious, and she’d immediately asked to spend more time with Anora and her knight.
Her black hair has been cut short— at her own request, of course, just below her jaw. Her skin is darker, like her father’s, and she had his nose— but her eyes are big and blue, without a trace of Loghain’s sternness.
Cassian, on the other hand, looks terrified.
He clutches a similar set of sword and shield in his hands. Loghain can’t tell whether it’s because he’s chilly, or if it’s because he’s never been terribly fond of any kind of confrontation and his sister charging at him is like something out of his nightmares, but Cassian is shivering.
He’s a sweet boy; quiet, much more interested in reading than play-fighting his sister. Loghain doubted there was even a slightly rude bone in his body, and his heart ached for him. He can’t help but dread to think of how the world might treat him.
Like his sister, Cassian’s short hair and skin are dark; he had brown eyes, however, like Padril. His mouth is pierced and his nose is arched; he scowls in frustration sometimes, and Loghain swears to the Maker he sees himself. Both of them are tall for their age, but Cas is almost lanky no matter how much they feed him.
They collide with a thunderous crash of wood-on-wood. They collapse in the snow, and Cassian wails as Valarie pummels his shield. “Ah-hah! Die, darkspawn—!”
“Why do I have to be the darkspawn?! I’m always the darkspawn! You be the monster today!”
A smirk cracks onto his face as he watches them; they struggle and roll about, kicking and squealing. They abandon their wooden weapons to hurl half-formed, desperate snowballs at each-other, and Valarie shrieks as her brother dumps handfuls of snow down the back of her shirt. She thumps him in turn, and Loghain’s smirk disappears as their play starts to get rough.
“Now, now,” He calls, and soon enough he’s strolling closer them. They’ve caught each-other in a headlock, struggling and grunting at each-other. It doesn’t happen often, but occasionally they’ll get on one another’s nerves. “How about we all play nicely, yes? We don’t want a repeat of last time.”
Chipped tooth. Bruised forehead. Crying for hours because someone, originally, had pushed the other straight into a tree.
They seem to consider this for a moment, and eventually they both let go.
“Sorry, father.” A brief pause, and the next words are almost muttered; Loghain is only a few feet away, now. “Cassian started it.”
“No, I didn’t!” He complains.
Loghain feels himself restraining a sigh of relief. At least he doesn’t have to wrestle them off each other. “I know who started it, Valarie Mac Tir, and if you don’t discontinue, I’ll be sure to end it.” They both straighten up at this; he’s getting older, now, but he can certainly wrangle them both into submission.
Last time he did, though, he pulled a muscle in his back. Padril had laughed at him.
Hmph.
“Are either of you going to apologize?” Loghain prompts, and the children glance at eachother; it’s almost like they’re daring each-other to poke the bear.
They cave. The idea of being tickled until tears are pouring down their cheeks and their lungs and ribs are sore from laughter doesn’t seem to appeal when it’s freezing cold. They shoot eachother a quick ‘sorry’.
“That’s more like it.” Loghain begins to continue his patrol of the house, arms folded. “Have either of you seen your father around? I haven’t seen him since this morning—”
There’s a brief moment where Loghain is aware something is flying towards him. The kids shriek, and soon after, there’s a thwap, and a hard, cold sting blooms across his cheek as he struggles to maintain balance.
When he catches himself, he whips around to narrow his eyes at the culprit.
He’s standing there in his old, blue Warden’s cloak. His greying hair is in a thick braid over his shoulder, and there’s slight creases by his brown eyes, now. A scar hooks over his bottom lip and stops at his chin— a relic from their time in Weisshaupt.
Snow has collected on his shoulders and in his hair, and there’s a grin on his face that he’s seen one too many times and it always means trouble. He’s almost picturesque, though; Loghain can do nothing but blink stupidly at him. That’s the love of his life, isn’t it?
Padril notices him staring and sticks his tongue out at him, his nose crinkling as he smiles into it.
Maker, he’s gorgeous.
He manages to straighten up. “What on earth do you think you’re doing?”
“Thought I’d test your reflexes. You’re getting slow, old man!” Padril shoots back, and he’s already dipping down to pack more snow together.
Loghain blinks once more. He looks to his kids— they look on in shock, as if their other father has commited a grevious, unforgivable crime, and they weren’t sure how to respond to it.
His gaze snaps back to Padril; he barely manages to duck under another snowball. It hits the side of their house and shatters, and Padril looks terribly pleased with himself, hands on his hips.
“Maybe you’re not as slow as I thought. Still old, though.” He grins at him, pointed canines showing and all. “Positively ancient, really!”
Loghain glowers playfully at him, and he turns on his heel to start moving towards him, slow and deliberate. “Oh, you’re in for it now, Mahariel.”
He’s awful— Padril dips into a low bow, arms stretched behind him, grin still plastered on his face. “Come ‘n get it, Mac Tir.” He dares, and he shoots him a wink.
That’s all he needs.
He breaks out into a sprint, and Padril spins and bolts as soon as it happens— the kids are behind him, shrieking and hollering as they try to keep up.
“Come on!” Loghain calls, glancing back at the half-elves hot on his trail. “Let’s destroy him!”
#loghain mac tir#loghain#dragon age#loghain x warden#OC: Padril#long post#ok to reblog#my writing#this was so fun to write. it might be one of my favourite things#tho i’ll have to go back and rewrite it to make it ‘’better’’ i still love the image of pad n loghain bein old and so stupidly in love#and being cheeky to one another still gjskfksk#(also u KNOW ‘come and get it’ has a double meaning i hate padril 🔪)
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Recap/review 14.04: “Mint Condition “
THEN: Michael's gone. Supposedly. Dean feels bad. Ghosts are a thing. Salt circles. Monster Kaia's magic spear.
NOW: A comic book/collectibles store. The camera pans over a variety of figurines and memorabilia, including a poster for the movie Hell Hazers, which you may remember from Hollywood Babylon, (thank you, Continuity Fairy!) and briefly pauses on a poster for the movie All Saints' Day before showing a television. Someone's watching Shocker TV, showing scary movies "24 hours a day, all week long." We see clips from Route 666 and that movie they were filming in Hollywood Babylon, whose name escapes me, as well as from a movie we will eventually find out is All Saint's Day. Cut to a guy unpacking a box of collectibles under the watchful eye of a long-haired freak right out of All Saints' Day. I keep waiting for this guy to realize he's being watched, but I am the one who eventually comes to a realization - that's not a guy, it's a statue.
The guy unpacks a box and literally drops it in shock. Because it's haunted, right? No, it's just a Thundercats collectible figure Panthro, in its original box. (No one in my house knows anything about Thundercats, but I assume this is a real character.) He stuffs the box in a backpack, and then his phone rings. The incoming call is a video call, which is weird, because people this age don't even call each other, let alone via video, but it makes for better television, so we'll let it go.
The caller is a girl named Sam, who is apparently his boss. She immediately starts berating the guy for his bad customer service, which resulted in a negative Yelp review. He promises to do better and confirms that she's coming over for game night. Stewart picks up his bag and a set of keys on a Batman keyring and locks up the store, under the watchful eye of the creepy statue.
(Boy, this is a lot of recap before we even get to the title card...)
We see Stewart at his house, arguing with a pizza delivery place. Panthro is sitting on a table and he turns and looks at him. It's surprisingly well done, BTW. Stewart turns to see Panthro on the floor, gets closer, watches Panthro swing his mace, and then screams.
Title card!
Bunker. Dean's lying on his bed, eating pizza and watching Hatchet Man: All Saints' Day, which is a gloriously cheesy salute to the 80s. Well, I'm glad he finally got a TV in his room, but does this mean the Fortress of Deanitude is no more? Is it full of refugee hunters now? Aw, that's sad.
{Sidebar: I wonder if this movie is called All Saints' Day because they knew the episode would be shown on All Saints' Day, and were being meta/clever? Or is it just supposed to be a riff on the Halloween franchise?}
Sam comes in and asks what he's doing, and when Dean looks up, he's shocked to see the Beard of Despair is gone. "Why are you so surprised?" Sam says. "Obviously, judging from my glorious scruff, it's been a few days since I shaved. Have you really not seen me in a day or two?" (No, he doesn't really say that.) But Dean says "it's so smooth; it's like a dolphin's belly." And it's not. It's really not. And as much as I love the scruff - which is quite a bit - I'd also like to see Sam's pretty face smooth as a dolphin's belly sometime. Just sayin'.
Sam (still) wonders if Dean's okay, since he hasn't really come out of his room in a week, which I guess explains how he missed the Big Shave. Dean expositions that Cas is "showing Jack the ropes," because if Jack wants to learn how to be a hunter, there's no better teacher than Cas, right? Absolutely no one. And with Monster!Kaia and Michael "in the wind," and his home full of strangers, Dean apparently figures he's got nothing better to do than hole up in his room watching Hatchet Man movies. (Is Hatchet Man the franchise, and All Saints' Day just one of the titles? I'm having trouble getting a grip on this.)
He knows Sam doesn't get it, because Sam doesn't even like scary movies. "Our life is a scary movie," Sam points out. And speaking of which, he's found a case. He shows Dean a YouTube video of a bloodied Stewart describing his Panthro attack, and I wish I could take credit for this catch, but I saw it on Tumblr... look at the left side of the screen. The "Recommended for You" videos are about zombies, a conspiracy theory, and how to clean your sink, which are all very interesting, but look at the "Up Next" video.
IT'S A FUNNY CAT VIDEO. HAS SAM BEEN WATCHING FUNNY CAT VIDEOS?
Oh, Sammy knows just what he's doing, and I love him for it. He's all, we don't have to take this case involving KILLER THUNDERCAT TOYS if you're not interested, but he's got Dean exactly where he wants him.
His smug little face at the end of this scene gives me life.
Guys, I was so ready for this. A MotW, and Sam giving Dean a hunt he knows he'll enjoy just to help him kick his Michael blues... This is the show I'm here for!
The guys show up at the comic book store dressed like absolute dorks, in short-sleeved shirts and ties. Sam has a pocket protector. I don't know why. But it's single-layer Winchesters and I'm gonna embrace it. Looks like this episode is happening on Halloween and not on All Saints' Day, because they're accosted by costumed children outside the store. Dean comments that Sam still isn't a fan of Halloween (which we've known ever since the pilot; thanks again to the Continuity Fairy). Sam confirms.
Apparently this red mask is a character Jensen voiced in an animation? And of course Jared was in House of Wax. Pretty deep meta here, Show.
BossLady!Sam is there, wearing a red plaid shirt, and Dean comments that she's like Sam's twin. "I don't know what you're talking about," Sam says, as he and BossLady!Sam tuck their hair behind their ears in sync, and I die.
That’s me, in a puddle on the floor.
“Soft, delicate features," Dean points out. "Luxurious hair. She's like your Wonder Twin." All of this is true, Dean, and good on you for noticing that your brother has soft, delicate features and luxurious hair. Sam notices a guy stocking the shelves - black All Saints' Day t-shirt, shortish spiky hair, lollipop just like the one Dean snagged at the door - and says "if that's me, then that's you over there."
Dean's distracted (and delighted) by the Hatchet Man statue, giving him the name David Yaeger. {Sidebar: did you know the word jager means hunter in German?} His doppelganger encourages him to push a button that plays his catch phrases from the movie, including "we all do bad things sometimes." Which is, like Dean's motto. Dean's joy is infectious and adorable.
BossLady!Sam finishes her business with the police and asks what she can do to help the guys, offering "Funko Pops, Magic cards," and given the number of Supernatural Funko Pops decorating my office, I'm pleased with that shout-out. Sam asks about Stewart as Dean asks about vintage Hot Wheels, and Dean, I am very sad to inform you that Hot Wheels apparently never made a 1967 Chevy Impala.
The guys introduce themselves as Ian Gillan and Ritchie Blackmore (Deep Purple, The Husband points out) from Campbell and Sons Insurance (hee!), wanting to speak to Stewart. Presumably not about Hot Wheels, unless he got run over by one. They'd gone to his place, but his roommate said he moved out. Or got kicked out. BossLady!Sam explains that Stewart is an "acquired taste" who makes a lot of online enemies, and he can be found at his mom's house.
I still don't understand why the guys are dressed like nerds. Is it a Halloween costume? Because we've seen them as insurance agents before, and they were wearing regular suits.
Mom's house. Mom puts a couple of mugs on the table - one is a superhero (Flash, maybe?) and one is decorated with cats - and announces that Stewie will be up in just a minute. Dean reaches for the superhero mug, even though it was placed in front of Sam, but the joke's on you, Dean, because we now know Sam likes cats! But more importantly, Dean has added a pair of black Clark Kent eyeglasses to his getup. WHY? I mean, it's hilarious, but WHY?
I DON'T KNOW WHAT'S GOING ON HERE.
We hear Stewart pitching a fit in the basement. He stomps upstairs and sees the Winchesters, and I know the guy in the store was supposed to be Dean's avatar, but this guy is wearing a RED SHIRT WITH A SQUIRREL ON IT. COME ON .
Truly a Red Shirt of Bad Decisions.
We learn that Sam is aware of Fortnight, and Dean notices the smell of burning sage. Stewart explains that he dated a goth chick who told him it would bring good luck, but he broke up before they could "merl." Dean's as confused as I am about "merl," but Sam explains it's MIRL - Meet In Real Life. Dean asks how he knows what that means, and Sam very quickly changes the subject. And this opens up all sorts of interesting possibilities, doesn't it, regarding Sam's online activities and his knowledge of MIRLing, and that would certainly be an entertaining rabbit hole to go down, and I hope some of y'all indulge in that, fic-wise or meta-wise or whatever. I look forward to reading it.
Anyway. Sam asks about the Panthro attack, and Stewart jumps in to say he made it up. When Dean presses, he gets mad and kicks them out of the house and then we cut to an exterior shot and WHAT THE FUCK? NOW DEAN HAS A TACKY CHECKERED BLAZER? It's like he's slowly turning into Matt Foley from SNL. At some point in this episode he's got to say something about living in a van down by the river.
Dean refers to Stewart as "Big Bang," which reminds me that I meant to ask, when we first learned his name, if he was a shout-out to Stewart the comic book store owner on Big Bang Theory. {Sidebar: Would this be a reciprocal shout-out, since that show has a character named Kripke? Is there a connection I don't know about?} Given Stewart's Wiccan girlfriend, they think the toy might have been under a spell, and they decide to check the house for hex bags later. Although I don't know how she would have left any in the house, since they never MIRLed.
Later. The guys are sitting in the car, still outside Stewart's house, when a little lumberjack and vampire walk by. Look, it’s Dean and Benny!
Sam’s instructing someone to use lamb's blood and "stay safe," because he's still Chief, Dean, whether you like it or not. Dean asks "seriously, what is your deal with Halloween," and "don't give me that 'every day is Halloween for us' crap." It's kind of odd that he doesn't already know. I mean, we already know. His life is Halloween. And his mother died two days after Halloween. {Sidebar: Is it just headcanon, fueled by fanfic, that John got blind stupid drunk every year around the anniversary of Mary's death? Or is that canon?} The conversation is interrupted when Stewart's mom leaves the house, and the guys have to duck - toward each other - to avoid being seen. It's ridiculous and hilarious and I love it.
Dean could have just taken off the Clark Kent glasses.
Sam suspects Stewart changed his story because he's being brutally mocked online. And he won't say the word bitch. Is this something we can't do now that we're airing at an earlier hour, Show? Then Stewart comes out of the house, bloody and screaming for help. Dean goes inside, gun drawn, and follows a trail of blood to Stewart's man cave (um, boy cave?). As he gazes at a Texas Chainsaw Massacre poster, he hears a chain saw, which hurtles into the room and barely misses his pretty head.
Hospital. Stewart's mom, still in costume, sits at his side and thanks the guys for saving his life. She wants to go home and get his favorite pillow, but they convince her to stay. "Everything's fine," Dean tells her. "Everything is not fine," he says to Sam, as they leave the room. He says he swept the room for hex bags and found nothing, but the EMF went crazy. So it's a ghost. Hey, guys, you should have watched the "Then." We already knew that. Dean is going to stay at the hospital and keep Mom from going back to the house, while Sam asks around to see if anybody "got dead lately."
At the house, Sam finds the light switch in the Den of Stewartitude doesn't work, even though a lamp and computer monitors are turned on in the room. He laughs at himself for being startled by the Panthro toy and says "nice, Sam, smooth," and for some reason this just almost makes my heart burst open. The toy isn't putting off EMF now, which he finds odd. Then he looks at one of the monitors and sees a group photo of Stewart, LadyBoss!Sam, Dean's doppelganger, and an older man.
Back at the hospital, Dean's doppelganger is standing outside Stewart's darkened room. He is wearing an army green canvas jacket and has acquired some scruff of his own and he's just such a precious little mini Dean; I can't stand it. He asks what Dean's doing there, and Dean says he's just keeping an eye on Stewart. "He must have awesome insurance," Doppelganger says. Which is very funny, and also very Dean, because he says "awesome" so much. I love it.
Dirk explains that Stewart is a jerk, but he's his best friend, and he's there when Dirk needs him. They eat pizza and watch movies and who else does that, my friends? You know who. Then the guys bond over their love of scary movies, and it looks like the franchise is actually called All Saints' Day. I'm sure you were really dying to know. Stewart comments that no hospital would ever be that empty, and Dean says he's been to a lot of hospitals at night, and "trust me, it gets pretty empty," and at first that's just heartbreaking because I figure he was at these hospitals because John or Sam were injured. But maybe he's just thinking about hunts in hospitals. (Again, I need to differentiate fic-fueled headcanon from actual canon.) And then Dean says he likes to watch movies "where I know the bad guy's gonna lose" and yep, my heart is definitely broken.
Sam shows up at the store and asks BossLady!Sam if anyone close to Stewart has died lately. She explains that Jordan, who used to own the store, was kind of a Willy Wonka to her, Stewart, and Dirk (Aha! His name is Dirk! Which is close to Dean, and hasn't Dean actually been called Dirk before?). He died and left the store to BossLady!Sam and Dirk. Not Stewart, because he fired him twice for stealing. But she hired him back because he's a friend. It seems like Stewart has better friends than he deserves. She tells Sam that Jordan was cremated, and then we see something frosting over behind her.
Sam is adorable, trying to look casual as he pulls out his EMF meter and it lights up like a Christmas tree. He tells her it's a carbon monoxide detector and she needs to leave. He starts to tell her she's in danger, and then the David Yeager statue smacks him into the comic book display and knocks him out cold. Even though he hits it with his back. (Handwave!)
When he wakes up, BossLady!Sam is terrified but unhurt. She gets a quick version of the "monsters are real" speech and finds that the door is locked, and Hatchet Man took the keys. He throws something at the door, but it's shatterproof glass. Apparently Jordan was serious about thieves, which explains why he's so keen on killing Stewart, that Panthro-stealing little asshole.
He calls Dean, who's fanboying with Dirk about horror movies, and tells him it's Jordan's ghost. And the David Yaeger figure is on its way. Dean can hardly believe his luck. He pours a ring of salt around Stewart's bed, having given him the speech, and orders him to stay in it. Boy, it's a good thing they reminded us what salt is for in the "Then," or else we'd be really confused right now.
Store. BossLady!Sam figured out what I did, that Jordan wants to kill Stewart because he's a thief. She says she's been taking money out of his check to pay for what he steals, but Jordan wouldn't know that. Sam breaks his lockpick, and then asks if they have any cleaning supplies.
Hospital. Ghost stuff starts happening in Stewart's room, and Dirk panics and flees. Dean takes a hatchet out of a fire emergency box, even though I think that would probably set off a fire alarm. (Handwave!) Dirk's mom is carrying a tray of food from the cafeteria and comes across the Yaeger figure. She drops her tray and screams, just like the woman in the movie. Dirk shows up and puts on a stern face and tells Jordan that if he's going to kill his friend, he has to go through him. Oh Dirk, you sweet little thing, you're channeling Dean so hard now and I adore you. Jordan does come for Dirk, who says "crap" and runs off. There's a funny sequence where we cut back and forth between Dirk and some hospital guards who are watching All Saints' Day and ignoring the actual mayhem happening on their monitors.
Meanwhile, Sam is mixing drain cleaner and something else in a Scooby Doo lunchbox. {Sidebar: I'm not a Scooby Doo fan, but I love the show's constant references to it and the way the Continuity Fairy always remembers Dean's a fan.} BossLady!Sam asks how he learned to do this, and he says "I had a messed up childhood." It's funny because it's true. He hangs the lunchbox bomb on the door and they hide behind the desk. After it blows the door open, they both slowly peek over the desk and simultaneously say "cool." I'm starting to love Sam and his little doppelganger too.
Hospital. Dirk hides in the morgue (no, Dirk, never in the morgue!) and gets a scary hand on his shoulder, but it's Dean. Then a body on one of the gurneys sits up. Yeah, it's Yaeger.
At this point there's a fake movie promo for All Saints' Day III: The Reckoning. It starts out "Three Years Ago," which reminds me very much of a certain scene that starts out "Twenty two years ago." Looks like David Yaeger was killed in a fire on October 31, 1983, which is two days before Mary Winchester dies in a fire. Oh, you clever, clever show.
Back to the show. Dean gleefully fights the Yaeger figure. At least he's gleeful until it seems he's not doing very well. Sam and BossLady!Sam show up, and she's wearing Jared's coat from the EW Halloween photoshoot last year.
Bless you, Show.
She figures out that Jordan must be attached to the Batman keychain. Meanwhile, Dean is cornered, and about to get axed, when precious little badass Dirk stabs Jordan in the back. It doesn't kill him, of course, but it gives Dean a chance to get up and start losing the fight again. The Sams run in and BossLady!Sam figures out that alcohol will help them burn the keychain faster. Whoosh! There goes Jordan, and the statue falls lifeless to the floor.
Aftermath. The guys tell Dirk and BossLady!Sam that everyone is safe now. The Impala scene starts with Dean thanking Sam for "giving me a win." Sam asks him to stop hiding out in his room. "What happened with Michael, you said yes for me, for Jack, for your family. You did the right thing." He says nothing Michael did afterward is Dean's fault, and he needs to stop blaming himself.
"I'm never gonna get over it, okay?" Dean says. "I'm just not." And once again, Sam could say "yes, I understand how you feel, because I've been there too," not to make this all about him, but just to commiserate and show Dean that he's not just blowing off his horrific experience, he knows how bad it was and he might have some good ideas about getting past it. And once again, he does not. But that's okay. What isn't okay is what happens next. Dean asks again why Sam hates Halloween, and Sam tells some ridiculous story about having a crush on a girl in sixth grade and throwing up on her at her Halloween party, and you know what? I just refuse to accept this. WE KNOW WHY SAM HATES HALLOWEEN. AND IT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH A GIRL IN SIXTH GRADE. I don't know why you're doing this to me, Davy Perez. You're usually so good about canon. I cannot accept that Sam Winchester, whose entire life has been Halloween, whose mother died two days after Halloween, is distressed because of something that happened in sixth grade. I'm going to pretend this part never happened. Who's with me?
Dean says that next year, he and Sam are going to wear couples costumes (and if you happened to be wearing your shipping goggles, I think I heard you squealing). Batman and Robin. Bert and Ernie. (!) Rocky and Bullwinkle. (!!) Shaggy and Scooby. Turner and Hooch. Ren and Stimpy. Thelma and Louise. "We just it in drive and go." {Sidebar: Who wants the show to end that way, Thelma and Louise style?}
Meanwhile, back at the hospital, one of those useless security guards finds the Yaeger figure in the morgue. The guys left it there? Oh well. It's a good horror movie ending.
So! For the most part, this was just what I needed after three episodes of mytharc. A good MOTW with lots of humor and nods to canon. On the other hand, there's that one thing. But since I'm ignoring that one thing, I guess this was a fantastic episode! What did you guys think?
Please help me stay unspoiled, thanks!
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Accidental Bonding Recs
These fics tend to focus on either characters who already pine for each other and then must hide it due to the forced intimacy, or characters that hate each other but come to understand one another, or a combination of both. Bonding through accidental Mpreg has its own section. Pon Farr also has its own section. If you like Star Trek, Pon Farr is basically canon fuck or die and forced bonding, so check that out.
· Stiles, why is Derek Hale passed out on our front porch? By marguerite_26, mothlights (Teen Wolf, Explicit, 4K, 2013)
o Stiles freezes, carton of milk half way to his mouth. He looks around the empty room, wondering if it has any answers. Derek Hale just passed out on his front porch -- sounds like one of the signs of the coming apocalypse.
o [Magical bond, angst, scent kink, smut, emotionally constipated Derek]
o Interesting concept of Derek’s wolf.
· Bond by Bookkbaby (Supernatural, Explicit, 4K, 2013)
o Castiel is injured, so Dean offers Cas some of his soul's energy. Things don't go as planned.
o [Destiel, accidental soul bond, porn, soul sex, humor, Dean’s fragile masculinity]
o Well written and sexy. Short, porny fun for the whole fam.
· Marked, Bound Ever To Thee by kakaitalover (Dresden Files, Teen, 8K, 2015)
o Mystic bonds just make everything awkward. Especially when they're triggered by rape flowers.
o [no smut, focus on bonding tropes, kidnapping, telepathy sort of, magic, denial of feelings]
o I just liked the tropey-ness in a more niche fandom. It’s no masterpiece, but it’s short and humorous.
· omni gladio ancipiti by lifevolutionary (Supernatural, Explicit, 10K, 2010)
o The archangel Gabriel had never chosen a Bearer for his sword. Until now.
o [Sam/Gabriel, Destiel, fluff, humor, crack, minimal smut]
o Gabriel’s voice is a perfect balance of snarky and irreverent. The little hints to deeper character feelz were just the cherry on top.
· The (Mostly Accidental) Courtship of Dean Winchester by tuesday (Supernatural, Mature, 11K, 2010)
o Angelic marriage rites were never intended to go quite like this.
o [Destiel, Crack, humor, pining, Oblivious!Dean, emotionally constipated Dean, UseYourWords!Castiel]
o This is a lovely, sweet, crackey little fic. I just adored it.
· Bound to be Broken by EntreNous (Harry Potter, Explicit, 13K, 2009)
o There is a way to break the accidental bond between Harry and Snape; it simply involves lots of sex.
o [Snarry, fuck or die-ish, PWP, smut, hate sex, bickering, coming together, forced intimacy]
o This almost belonged in fuck or die, but the sexual relationship is already started and there’s no angst about whether or not to do it. Rather, this fic focuses on the building intimacy between the characters so I put it here.
· ♥ Bonding Time by magisterpavus (Voltron, Explicit, 16K, 2016)
o “Shiro, I fucked up,” Keith blurted, wringing his hands. Shiro paused mid-punch, shooting him a quizzical look. “What? What happened?” “I think,” Keith whispered, “I think I accidentally roofied Lance. With my dick.”
o [Klance, pwp, smut, humor, accidental bonding, heat sex, sex marathon, mates, angst]
o Magisterpavus is my favorite author of all time, and this is her most classic porn fic. It has a ton of sequels too that are all equally hot.
· ♥ Twice as Much as an Earthquake by firethesound (Harry Potter, Explicit, 19K, 2014)
o Accidental bonding. Breaking and entering. Conspiring, however unwillingly, in the strange one-man war Malfoy's waging against detention. This isn't the normal school year Harry anticipated having, but at least it's not boring.
o [Drarry, getting caught going to bone-town, bickering, forced proximity, forced bed sharing, forced intimacy, smut, UST, humor]
o This one has a sweet buildup of Harry and Draco’s relationship. How do I put this—they aren’t super angsty and hateful towards each other. Not to say that there isn't some wonderfully awkward situations going on and they do fight, but it’s more bickering and less I hate you. It’s a good fic is what I’m saying.
· Eyes Like Stars by malfoys_cousin (Voltron, Mature, 21K, 2017)
o In which Lance drinks too much alien alcohol, literally cannot get a grip on his embarrassingly huge crush on Keith, and accidentally ruins everything.
o [Klance, accidental bonding, pining, sooo much pining, humor, drunk shenanigans, forced proximity, forced bed sharing, bickering, denial of feelings]
o Classic accidental bond fic. Less angry/angsty and more humor/pining than some others, so if you’re tired of everyone being unhappy all the time, then check this out.
· Grooming Instincts by jemariel (Supernatural, Explicit, 26K, 2018)
o There's something going on with Cas. Dean is determined to help him through it, in whatever way he can. He might end up with more than he bargained for. OR: Dean helps Cas scratch an itch. As it were.
o [wing kink the fic, oil gland kink, porn, humor, virgin!Castiel, pining, communication is a skill, that they don’t have, bonding, angel marriage: sort of]
o Gets into glorious, glorious detail about the wings. Kinky as hell with that. Wing kink: the fic. You’re welcome.
· ♥ Angels on the Moon by Writcraft (Harry Potter, Explicit, 27K, 2017)
o The aftermath of the war is almost as difficult as the war itself, Harry is a mess and Severus is a reluctant survivor forced back to Hogwarts to recuperate from his injuries. When a brick-bonding spell goes awry, Harry and Severus are forced to confront hatred, misunderstandings and a new and unexpected intimacy which takes them both by surprise.
o [Snarry, empathy, healing, magic, magic shenanigans, trust issues, Cranky!Snape, Post-war fic, forced intimacy, fuck or die-ish]
o Snape is his best worst self in this fic and I just ate up his intimacy issues. The awkwardness of their forced intimacy is everything I could have asked for in an accidental bonding fic. The description of their magic mixing is lovely as well.
· ♥ ♥ Better Than Dead by heartsdesire456 (Teen Wolf, Explicit, 27K, 2013)
o When Stiles is gravely injured, the only way to save him is for Derek to turn him. However, Derek never did learn exactly what certain bites meant and, without this knowledge, he accidentally claims Stiles as his mate. Alpha werewolves mate forever. However...Betas don't.
o [accidental!bonding, accidental!soulmates, mating shenanigans, so much angst, slow build, all the bonding tropes, emotionally constipated!Derek, emotionally constipated!Stiles, pining, UST, selfless!Derek]
o I love the tension between Derek and Stiles here. So delicious. If you love clearly destined to be together, Stiles and Derek becoming friends through forced intimacy, then this is your fic. I still reread it all the time.
· ♥ ♥ Shout it Out Loud by dreamlittleyo (X-Men, Explicit, 30K, 2011)
o When Charles forges a telepathic link between himself and Erik, the two men find themselves bound together by more than just destiny. With the world on the brink of war, Charles and Erik struggle to cope with a psychic connection that may well be permanent.
o [Charles/Eric, X-Men Origins AU, telepathy, emotional intimacy, healing, UST, soooo much UST, Idiot!Charles, minimal smut, fluff, angst, heart break]
o This was an absolutely beautiful fic. You can feel their love for each other woven through every word and it’s just fucking gorgeous. I can't recommend it enough.
· Lap Magnet by Prairie_Grass (Teen Wolf, Explicit, 30K, 2014)
o Wherein an ill-advised floral arrangement leads to a whole new definition of obliviousness, accidental mate-bonds, and far more sex and tropes than one fic really needs.
o [accidental bonding, soulmates—kind of, Smut, humor, but like so much smut, dubcon, Oblivious!Everyone]
o Super well written tropey fun. Really well known fic, and if you like the accidental bonding trope with your porn and you haven’t read this, what are you doing with your life?
· How High the Moon by kyliselle (Star Trek, NC-17, 39K, 2010)
o After the destruction of Vulcan, Spock shielded his mind to protect it from his broken bond with T'Pring. Little did he know another bond had already formed in its place.
o [mind meld, telepathy, Asshole!Spock, Oblivious!Spock, communication fail, so much angst]
o Spock is almost too much as asshole here, but the concept is so wonderfully done and the tension so well held that I don’t care. As the original prompt asked for, this focuses super hard on the mental bond, telepathy, and all the yummy tropes. A must read for intimacy and bond drama.
· Before the World Was Made by daftfear (Harry Potter, Teen, 43K, 2014)
o Draco has done everything in his power to leave the past behind him. He’s established himself a successful business and built a reputation around the quality of his work and the breadth of his knowledge. But when aurors show up at his shop one afternoon, seeking his expertise on a peculiar item of questionable origins, they completely overthrow the precarious balance in Draco’s life. Trust Potter to bring danger and destruction in his wake, along with a painful reminder of all the things Draco is trying to forget.
o [Drarry, accidental bonding, forced proximity, gratuitous bed sharing, pining, communication is a skill, sex for reasons, healing, discrimination]
o This is another well-paced, well-written, well-romanced fic. Harry and Draco’s dynamic is portrayed nicely.
· ♥ In Evidence of Magical Theory by bixgirl1 (Harry Potter, Explicit, 44K, 2017)
o When a hex meant for Draco accidentally catches Harry as well, they're forced to learn to understand each other in ways they previously might have thought impossible. In which Harry and Draco can't fight, so they fall in love instead.
o [Drarry, bickering, UST, pining, snark, forced bed sharing, forced intimacy, mental connection, suuuuper UST, awkwardness, smut]
o A classic accidental bonding. This fic has the best awkwardness from the forced intimacy and the slowly learning not to want to kill each other. The tropes are perfectly done here. This is one I’d recommend for anyone.
· Distance Removed by General_Button (One Punch Man, Mature, 44K, 2016)
o Pain along his wrist fizzled into existence and then, like a switch, exploded. Saitama stumbled back, fighting the urge to shout, and waited for it to fade. “What—sensei, are you all right?!” Genos was staring at him incredulously, his mouth agape.
o [Genos/Saitama, forced proximity, shared physical sensations, healing, intimacy, friends to lovers]
o This really captures the voice of the characters and show; the deadpan absurdity of them living their normal lives with all this fantastical stuff going on and Saitama’s emotional disconnect.
· Once Upon a Time (A Fairy-Tale Love Story) by littlebirdtold (Star Trek, Explicit, 47K, 2013)
o Jim finds himself in a parallel universe where the Milky Way is under the control of an alien race and ends up as a servant in the residence of the Royal House of Vulcan. As he starts adapting to his new life, Jim's curiosity fucks everything up—but hey, Vulcans shouldn't have told him that he isn't allowed to enter this wing of the palace; Jim has never been good at following rules.
o [porn with plot, humor, power imbalance, communication is a skill, emotionally constipated Spock, asshole parents, telepathy, empathy]
o Littlebirdtold has a very particular voice for Kirk that I don’t 100% love; it’s like he’s too driven by his dick. Her fics tend to conflate love with good sex. However, this is still very good, well-paced, sexy, and fun. I think my problem with her fics are personal taste because they are excellent, and clearly popular.
· ♥ The Morning After by noodleinabarrel (Star Trek, Mature, 50K, 2016)
o After a passionately illogical night of Romulan Ale and chocolate infused liquor, everything changes when Jim wakes with something other than a hangover filling his head. Something he's sure neither he nor Spock can handle. Because if Jim knows anything for sure, it's that his messed up thoughts belong nowhere near Spock's clean, ordered mind.
o [accidental bonding, UST, pining, forced intimacy, insecure!Kirk, healing, Oblivious!Kirk, afraid of commitment, mind meld shenanigans]
o This is a perfect example of an accidental bonding fic. Like this is what I would put as the picture in the dictionary. Needless to say, it’s very good.
· UST (An Unfortunate Series of Tropes) by ureshiiichigo (Teen Wolf, Explicit, 54K, 2015)
o Stiles thought he and Derek were finally getting to be bros, and then Deaton had to go and ruin everything with his stupid spell.
o [Tropes, so many tropes, soul bonding, accidental soul bonding, scent kink, pack dynamics, Oblivious!Stiles, EmotionallyConstipated!Derek, UseYourWords!Derek, gratuitous sandwich sharing, telepathy, smut, dubcon, consent issues, communication issues, doughnuts, UST]
o This was written for a trope bingo and it is glorious for it. It’s a bit silly, but, like, in a good way. The sexy bits are also very sexy.
· Cursed Or Not by Ltleflrt (Supernatural, Explicit, 115K, 2014)
o While experimenting with magic when he was a kid, Sam accidentally cursed Dean. Now, Dean is forced to wear a spelled amulet constantly, or he'll turn into a random animal. For a little over a decade, he's learned to live with the curse, and has even found it useful in some cases, but he sure would be happier without it. When he meets a witch named Castiel, he's offered a deal.
o [Destiel, Witch!Castiel, Familiar!Dean, trust issues, minimal smut, UST, Sassy!Gabriel, accidental bonding]
o This one is rather out of character; however, the writing is solid, and overall it’s a solid fic, but not if you’re looking for a great depiction of Dean. I think this is for people who want fluff and romance in their fics rather than angst. Which is probably why I wasn’t as into it, lol.
· ♥ ♥ Mental by sara_holmes (Harry Potter, Mature, 187K, 2010)
o Harry has had quite enough of sharing his mind with someone else, thank you very much. A miscast Legilimency spell says otherwise.
o [Drarry, telepathy, humor, angst, pining, bickering, communication, smut, jealousy, super focus on the telepathy, mind meld, slow build, enemies to friends to lovers]
o This is a classic. One of those perfect fics that you’re sad you can only enjoy for the first time once. It also deeply explores the characters, doing an especially good job with Draco.
#fanfic#fanficrecs#votron#sheith#klance#drarry#supernatural#harry potter#star trek#bonding#accidentalbonding#tropes#soulmate#soul bond#one punch man#x men#dresden files
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Someone Like You
Summary: Dean and Castiel meet on a dating app and after sharing conversation for a few days, they decide to meet up in person but things don’t go the way either of them thought they would.
Pairing: Destiel
Word Count: 3593
Rating: Teen and Up Warnings: mentions of gay stereotypes, mentions of sexting, mentions of explicit photographs, mentions of large age gaps in relationships, like one curse word
A/N: This is for two challenges! And it has an alternate ending that really didn’t fit the tone of the fic but I wrote it as a joke and it might end up being the start of a new, different fic because it’s too good to pass up. Anyhow, the format is a little different at the beginning with a bunch of POV shifts but I think it makes sense… every time there’s a new message on the dating app, the POV shifts. I stole the title from an Adele song.
Written for @spnaubingo; square filled - internet dating Written for @spnfluffbingo; square filled - mistaken identity
Someone Like You -
IMALA67: Hey ;)
The binging of his alert tone pulled Cas from his thoughts and he felt his lips break into a smile when he saw the name on his phone. Impala wasn’t like any guy he’d talked to before, especially on Grindr, and that thought alone made Cas smile even wider. He had been about to delete the app when Impala’s first message came through. He wasn’t the kind of guy Cas would usually talk to but he had figured there was no harm in chatting; he’d just delete the app after. That had been a week ago and the app was still on Castiel’s phone and he was still talking with Impala.
Cas tended to stick closer to his age range but, then again, if the torso in Impala’s profile picture was actually him, the man was in great shape for 50 and it wasn’t like the dating pool was going to grow if Cas didn’t widen his search. Honestly, Impala seemed different from all of the other guys on Grindr. For one, he used the year he was born in his username. He also hadn’t opened with an explicit pick up line or a picture of his genitals; he hadn’t even tried to get in Castiel’s pants the first time they talked, or any time after for that matter. Sure, they were flirting and joking with one another but it really felt like they were getting to know each other. Cas was even starting to think that he might like to meet Impala in person.
ANGELBOI: Hello
Dean shook his head fondly at AB’s formal response. That’s not how people talked on this app but it seemed to fit the kid. Dean snorted at his thoughts… kid… What was Dean even doing talking to someone who went by AngelBoi? A username like that belonged to a 23 year old twink and, as best as Dean could tell, the app’s location service placed AB on or near the campus of the local university most of the time.
AngelBoi had first showed up on Dean’s radar when he had been waiting for Sam to meet him for lunch. AB’s picture had drawn Dean in, standing out in the sea of abs with an actual face shot or, at least, a partial photo of his face. At the bottom of the photo, bright blue eyes looked up towards the sky and beautifully messy sex hair filled the middle of the frame. Dean had tapped his way onto AB’s profile but it was pretty sparse. Dean couldn’t complain, though, he hadn’t been exactly forthcoming with his own information, either.
He had reached out to the kid on a whim, Grindr claiming that he was a half mile away. He didn’t have the time - or even the desire, really - for a hookup but something about the guy made him want to say hi. So he did and the fifteen minutes that he was waiting for his brother to show up flew by.
IMPALA67: What are you up to?
Cas stared at his phone. This was new. Usually he and Impala engaged in witty and flirty banter but there was never any discussion of what the other was doing at the time. Cas weighed his options. He could ignore the question entirely but that didn’t feel right. He could answer truthfully or give a cheeky response, either of which could lead to sexting which, he supposed, wouldn’t be the end of the world, he had just always seen Impala as being different from the other guys on Grindr. It could also be that Impala was actually curious about Castiel’s life but, if he was going to delete the app - which he still fully intended to do - how much did he want to share with a virtual stranger? Cas contemplated his options for another moment and then tapped out his reply. If his brother ever found out about this, Cas knew he’d never hear the end of it.
ANGELBOI: I was just finishing up some work on a paper.
Dean groaned at AB’s response. Up until now it had been an assumption that he was talking to a college kid, nothing more than an educated guess, but the man’s response had just confirmed it for him. He thought about backing down, changing his plan but when he really considered that notion, it left him feeling empty and shallow. If AB didn’t mind talking to someone his age, why should Dean care? Hell, half of his friends would be jealous that Dean had landed a hot young thing. Dean chuckled to himself as he imagined the ribbing he’d get from Benny about it. The guy would try to cover up his jealousy with jokes about Dean being a cradle robber but the man had a type and “hot college twink” was definitely it.
IMPALA67: Finishing up? So you’d be free to grab a coffee or something?
A slow smile spread across Castiel’s face. Impala had managed to surprise him yet again. Where Cas had been expecting explicit messages, Impala had asked for what seemed like an actual date. Granted, the “or something” left the door open for innuendo but given what he had learned about the man on the other end of the chat, the something was more likely a beer than a blow job.
Cas didn’t think twice before he answered this time. No matter how old he was, he and Impala had formed a connection through their conversations and Cas had been thinking about asking him out himself. The older man had just beat him to the punch.
ANGELBOI: I would like that. Do you know where Sweets is?
AB’s response came so quickly that Dean had assumed he had gotten turned down at first. But after reading the man’s words, he jumped up and headed to his room, looking down at himself. He hadn’t really thought this plan through. His original agenda for the day was to chill at home, play video games, and catch up on Dr. Sexy and he was still in his sweats and t-shirt from when he had gone out to bring in the garbage can in from the curb that morning. Now, suddenly, he found himself with a date and he needed to get ready fast.
He looked through his closet quickly, happy to find his favorite shirt was clean and then studied his face in the mirror. He had about a day’s worth of stubble and, while he often kept himself clean shaven, Dean liked the way a little bit of growth made him look so he decided to keep it. Besides, it would cut down on how long he needed to get ready.
IMPALA67: That’s the place that serves soup and ice cream, right? Yeah, I know it. I’ll meet you there in 45 minutes? Unless you’re one of those guys who needs a couple of hours with the bathroom mirror ;)
This was the tone Cas was used to reading from Impala. He was playful and flirty and Cas only hoped that it would translate into real life, too. He took a minute to look at his clothes. He was probably overdressed for a coffee date but he'd had two classes that day so he was wearing his suit and tie and Cas knew he looked good. The students that surrounded him on a daily basis might love in sweatpants but that had never been Castiel's way of dressing. Impala's proposed timeline would be more than enough for Cas.
Cas felt practically giddy. He hadn't been this excited for a date in a long time. He tried to not get his hopes up too high, though. Cas wanted to see whether there was something between them and dating someone older definitely didn't have the same stigma in the gay community that it did in straight relationships but Impala could still take one look at Cas and decide it wasn't something he wanted to deal with. He did think Impala would walk out on him, he didn't seem the type but Cas didn't actually know the man yet, not really anyway.
ANGELBOI: 45 minutes is great. It just so happens that I shaved my legs yesterday. But I'm a classy lady and I don't put out on the first date anyway.
ANGELBOI: On a serious note, I'll be wearing a tan overcoat that my brother loves to make fun of. But I like it and it's a good way to tell me apart from everyone else in the shop.
Laughter bubbled from Dean's lips at AB’s reply. He decided then and there that he didn't care how old the kid was. As long as he was legal and didn't mind dating an older guy, Dean was definitely interested in seeing where this could go.
IMPALA67: Sounds good, Angel. I'll be in my favorite red button down
IMPALA67: By the way, the name's Dean
Dean. Cas didn't know why but he felt like it for the man. The name felt younger than the man's 50 years, as did his sense of humor.
ANGELBOI: Castiel. I'll see you soon, Dean.
This was happening. Dean was going to meet AngelB… Castiel in less than an hour. He got ready quickly, his excitement getting the best of him as he dressed in a black undershirt with his red button down open over it. He looked damn fine if he said so himself.
Dean made it to the shop in 30 minutes from the time he and Castiel had agreed to go out. He considered grabbing a coffee but decided to wait for his date to arrive and sat down at a table instead, making sure he had a clear view of the door. Sweets wasn’t too busy and Dean was content to people watch while he waited. The shop wasn’t too far from the college campus and a couple of students were scattered around studying, a stark reminder for Dean as to what he was getting himself into with Castiel. He wondered what the man studied and if he’d find Dean interesting enough. About ten minutes after he arrived, Dean caught the flourish of a long tan coat through the window but when the door opened, the person who stepped into Sweets was closer to his age and dressed in a suit and tie. Out of the corner of his eye, Dean watched the handsome stranger find a table of his own across the room from where he was seated before he turned his attention back to the door.
The final five minutes passed slowly and Dean had thought they were the longest five minutes of his life. At least until the next five minutes passed and Castiel still hadn’t shown up. The five minutes after that seemed to drag on even longer as Dean began to worry that he had been stood up. “Some people just run late,” Dean muttered to himself as he checked his messages on Grindr for the sixth time, hoping to see something from his date but still only finding Castiel’s promise that he’d see Dean soon.
NO NEW MESSAGES
Cas read through the messages he had exchanged with Dean for what felt like the hundredth time. Dean had been the one to suggest 45 minutes and now he was the one who was, Castiel checked his watch, 15 minutes late. That meant that Cas had been waiting at Sweets for about 20 minutes, now. He’d been excited to meet Dean and had left his apartment with plenty of time to arrive at the shop, considering it was a short walk from his building. Now, though, he just felt like an idiot.
He had arrived and grabbed a table to share with Dean. It was against the far wall of the shop, away from the prying eyes of any of his students who might be working on some of their course work, but still in a spot where he could see the door. He had scanned the room as he sat, wondering if perhaps Dean had been as over eager as he had been but he didn’t see anyone matching Dean’s description. There was a man in a red button up shirt sitting across the shop but he was far too young to have been born in 1967.
Cas checked his watch again and sighed, resigned to the fact that he had been stood up. He considered sending a message to Dean but what was the point, really? Castiel would rather be ghosted with dignity. He left his table and approached the barista, ordering a chai latte to drink on his walk home.
As he stood waiting for his drink, the man who had been seated across the shop also decided to order. Cas caught a glimpse of beautiful green eyes and wished that he had been here to meet this man. The man finished his order and came to stand beside Cas while they both waited.
“Large chai latte for Castiel!” One of the baristas called out, placing the drink on the counter.
Cas grabbed his latte and turned to leave but the man beside him reached out and grabbed his free arm.
“You’re Castiel?” he asked dumbfounded.
Cas nodded at the stranger, confusion coloring his features.
The man released his arm and held out his hand to shake Castiel’s. “I’m Dean and you are… not what I expected.”
Cas nearly dropped his drink. He wasn’t sure how he should take Dean’s comment but, then again, Dean wasn’t at all what Cas had expected, either. “Oh, uh,” Cas replied, ever the eloquent linguist. “Hello, Dean,” came his attempted recovery. At least it was real words this time.
Dean let out a little laugh. He picked up his own drink from the counter and gestured towards the table Cas had chosen. “You, uh, you want to sit down?” he asked, his voice uncertain.
Castiel led the way to his table, trusting Dean to follow. The conversation began a bit stilted and awkward but that was to be expected, seeing as how they had nearly been a CraigsList missed connection ad. Eventually, though, they both loosened up and Cas could tell that Dean was enjoying himself just as much as he was. They chatted for about a half an hour before there was a lull in the conversation and Cas asked, “What did you mean when you said I wasn’t what you were expecting?”
Dean looked down at the table and a blush colored his cheeks. “Honestly?” Dean started, saying the word like it was a question. “Based on your username and the fact that I figured you were on the university campus, I assumed you were some twinky college kid. I wouldn’t usually rob the cradle like that but, I don’t know, there was just something about you that made me not care. But, now that you’ve brought it up, what the hell kind of username is AngelBoi for a 30-something year old man?”
Dean laughed at his own question, a beautiful full body laugh, and Castiel couldn’t help but join in. “My older brother Gabriel signed me up for Grindr without informing me at first,” he explained. “He used it to set me up on dates that never ended particularly well for a while. I finally gave in and started using the service myself about a year ago but I never got around to changing the name he had picked. You’re not wrong about the university part, though,” Cas confessed, “I do spend most of my time there. I’m a professor in the religion department.”
Cas paused for a moment to consider his next move. Dean was smiling and laughing and he liked seeing the man like that. “You know what they say when you assume…” Cas goaded.
Dean sobered up a little at Castiel’s words. He looked Cas right in the eye as he responded. “Yeah, you nearly miss out on a date with the most attractive man you’ve seen in your life.”
Cas stared at Dean for a moment, his head tilted to the side in thought. “That’s not how the saying goes, Dean,” he replied, a small smile playing on his lips, “but I suppose in this instance, you are not wrong. I made some wrong assumptions about you, too, and I would have never known what I was missing out on if I hadn’t decided to get a drink for the journey home.”
Dean’s eyebrows shot up and he leaned in with a sexy smirk on his face. “I told you what I had thought about you, it’s your turn now, Angel. I showed you mine, it’s only fair if you show me yours.” He knew he was laying it on a little thick but Dean still finished with a wink. He liked Cas and wanted to get him a little riled up or, at least, flustered. And it seemed like his words had done the trick.
Cas licked his lips before he responded, his eyes drifting down dean’s face to look at his mouth before they darted back up and he began speaking. “Impala67. I assumed you were born in 1967, that you were 50…”
Dean burst out laughing at Castiel’s confession. “What? Dude, that’s my car. She’s a 1967 Chevy Impala and she is my baby.”
Dean’s laughter was infectious and Cas found himself joining in, even though he didn’t really know what the man was saying besides that he loved his car.
As he caught his breath, Dean poked fun at Cas. “You really thought I was 50? And you were cool with that? You must be past your prime, then, if you’re willing to date that much older...” he joked, his smile letting Cas know that he was kidding. Dean reached across the table and took one of Castiel’s hands in his as he spoke. “You think you can keep up with a 39 year old, grandpa?”
Cas snorted at Dean’s words. “You were the one who was ready to be a sugar daddy to some poor college kid when you walked in here,” he reminded Dean.
“And you were the one coming in looking for a sugar daddy,” Dean shot back, his eyes lighting up with laughter. He was clearly enjoying himself as the pair continued to banter back and forth easily for the next couple of minutes. They were so caught up in their flirting that neither of the men noticed the darkening sky as the day turned to night. They were finally pulled out of their little bubble when Castiel’s phone rang.
Cas looked down at the object as if the noise it was making had offended him in some way. “It’s my brother,” Cas explained, “he doesn’t usually call unless it’s an emergency. I should answer.” He waited for Dean to nod encouragingly before he swiped his finger across the phone, accepting the call. “Gabriel, what’s wrong?” Cas asked into the receiver as Dean grabbed his free hand and gave it a squeeze.
Gabriel was practically shouting into the phone and Cas was sure Dean could hear every word. “Cassie? Are you ok? Where are you?”
Castiel furrowed his brow in confusion. “Gabriel, I’m fine. I’m on a…” he let his voice trail off, not wanting to tell his brother he was on a date just yet, he’d never hear the end of it. “Why are you calling?”
“You were supposed to be at my house for dinner an hour ago, Cas.”
Cas watched as Dean smirked at him. He pulled his phone down from his ear to look at the clock. Sure enough, it was well past the time he was supposed to meet his brother for dinner. “I’m so sorry, Gabriel, I lost track of time,” he the man on the other end of the line as he looked up at Dean who was still smiling slyly at him, “and I don’t think I’m going to be able to make it tonight.”
“WHAT?” Gabriel squawked. “But you’re supposed to meet…”
Castiel’s eyes widened when he remembered the reason Gabriel had set up this dinner. “Gabriel, you really need to stop trying to play matchmaker for me. I’m doing just fine on my own,” he said, giving Dean’s hand a squeeze.
Dean was shaking with silent laughter as he listened to Gabriel chatter through the phone about Castiel’s dismal record with actually going on dates. Cas was trying to break into Gabriel’s rant but wasn’t finding much success. Every time Castiel would try to speak up in his own defense, Gabriel would talk over him and remind him of a potential date gone wrong. Eventually Dean took some pity on the man and plucked the phone from his fingers.
“Gabriel? Yeah, this is Dean. You don’t know me and I’m not at all sorry for distracting your brother but he’s really not going to make it to dinner tonight and if things go the way I hope they do, you’re definitely going to need to stop setting him up with people.” Dean hung up Castiel’s phone with a flourish and passed it back to the man sitting across the table from him. “All that talk about dinner has me hungry. You want to join me?” Dean asked, “or should I call up your brother and let him know you’re going to make it to dinner at his place after all?”
Dean stood and held out a hand to Castiel, which he gladly took, and the pair walked out of Sweets and into the night together.
ALL THE TAGS! (forevers): @deathtonormalcy56 @supernaturalyobsessed @roxy-davenport @sumara62 @ginamsmith @gallifreyansass @samwinjarpad @hexparker @thinkwritexpress-official @atc74 @thewhiterabbit42 @nobodys-baby-now
Destiel Tags from @mrswhozeewhatsis: @mrswhozeewhatsis @thinkwritexpress-official @deandoesthingstome @manawhaat @thegleegeneration @SinceriouslyAmellPadalecki @ferferelli @fangirling-instead-of-working @chrisatplay @faith-in-dean @mamaimpala @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @curliesallovertheplace @skybinx-blog @purgatoan @impossible-box @deansleather @faegal04 @sunriserose1023 @dr-dean @jelly-beans-and-gstrings @saving-things-hunting-family @jotink78 @i-dont-know-how-to-write @notnaturalanahi @howmanytuesdaysdidyouhave @mysaintsasinner @besslincoln-bruh @shelovesallthethings @klaineaholic @bohowitch @rockhoochie
#spnaubingo#square filled: internet dating#spnfluffbingo#square filled: mistaken identity#supernatural fanfiction#destiel#dean winchester#castiel#fics by Rev
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Fluff so Sweet it will Literally Rot Your Teeth Challenge
Thank you! Thank you! I hit 500 followers, OMG I can’t believe it. So lets celebrate with a challenge.
RULES:
1) Please follow me. This is a followers challenge after all. I do post some original work but I love to read and I post a ton of other much more talented writers’ work. Also I’m a pretty cool chick if I do say so myself.
2) Pick only one prompt/theme and one pairing (prompts/themes are under cut). Send me an Ask selecting which writing prompt/theme you want to write for and your pairing (only SPN pairings, i.e. Sam x Jody or Dean x Cas or SPN reader inserts). NO RPF Please!
Please send me a second option in case your first choice is taken. There will be only one fic per prompt/theme, I will also cross the prompt/theme off the list once it has been selected, so you may want to check before you submit your ask.
3) Write a drabble or a full length fic based off of the prompt/theme below (no series, please but, hey, I won’t stop you if you get going, believe me I understand). This is a FLUFF only challenge but still please post any and all warnings, if they happen to arise. Once again, I understand, you start off writing fluff and it turns smutty or angsty, that’s cool but still list your warnings.
4) No word length criteria. It can be as short or as long as you need to tell your story. Please use the ‘keep reading’ button, if your fic is longer than 500 words.
5) In your A/N, please tag me and state your prompt/theme.
If I don’t repost or like your entry in two days or so, please message me, Tumblr seems to hate me at times.
6) Use the #kdfrqqg’s fluffy sweet challenge in the first five tags.
7) All submissions are due by February 8th, 2018 at Midnight Eastern Standard Time.
I hate trying to hunt folks down, but I will send out reminders from time to time.
P.S. I want to post the master list for this challenge by Valentine’s day, which is Wednesday, February 14th, 2018, so please do you best to get these in on time.
8) Give me a holler if you have questions, need some ideas, a beta or an extension.
9) Have fun and let’s write some fluff that Lifetime would be jealous of.
PROMPTS/THEME:
Sunset @roxy-davenport
Moonlight @notnaturalanahi
Flowers @applepiesaladandwings
Cooking @uniquewerewolfsuit
Hospital @meg-wayward-af
Cheeseburger
Paperwork @samwinjarpad
Puppies or puppy @roxyspearing
Babies or baby
Kittens or kitten @leatherpicklesflannelpie
Knitting @thecuriouscrusader
Salads
Milkshakes @feelinthefanfiction
Bubble bath @anotherwaywardsister
Hand shake @kdfrqqg
Singing
Scarf
Teeth brushing @jessicawritessmut
Stuffed animal @paigebellabliss
Swimming pool
Lake
Mountains
Beach
Tea @sammyisapuppy
Coffee
Snuggie @queen-of-deans-booty
Pampered @kdfrqqg
Leaves @marvel-and-ackles
Candles @bellawindixon
Blankets @kdfrqqg
Tagging for possible interest or to help spread the word:
@bandobsession98, @greenappleeyes, @honeybeetrash, @chaos-and-the-calm67, @18crazybutcutealsopsycho, @xdifsx, @winchesters-favorite-girl, @queen-of-deans-booty, @notnaturalanahi, @justanotherdeangirl, @samwinjarpad, @jerk-bitch-and-an-angel, @drakkie-blog, @geekgirl1213, @sophiebobzz @emoryhemsworth @lucifer-in-leather @jensen-jarpad @webcricket, @angelsdeadromance @boxer-pup, @wholita@fuschiarulerinthebluebox, @uselessace, @gettinjoyful @kitten-undercover @sclerafantrash @beltz2016 @4401lnc @phoenixia67 @rachelladytietjens @kas-not-cas @rayofsunshinexx @impala-dreamers-mainfrigginblog @just-another-winchester @srj1990 @thecuriouscrusader @sandlee44
#kdfrqqg’s fluffy sweet challenge#writing challenge#spn fanfic#spn#supernatural#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural fanfic#i hit 500 followers!#spn writing challenge
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Thanks for the awesome answer (and thank you for your time). I asked that question because I had originally made my own version of Asmodeus and if the dude in the promo is him (assuming), then I feel like I should scrap my own Asmodeus and refuse to add him into a fic I'm writing, and proceed to only use Asmodeus from canon. Furthermore, my version is probably going to be nicer than the real one and I just feel lame by ignoring canon and making up my own ideas. XD Poor me.
Eh, I mean, write whoever you want, however you want. That’s the risk of writing canon-compliant fic, you know? Sometimes it gets borked by later canon. But it still doesn’t negate a great fic!
There’s still really old fic that I go back and reread that only works if you assume Jimmy’s still in there with Cas (like The Best Years of Our Lives, My Ass, which I reread more often than is probably recommended :P), or any of the numerous fics written in the post s8 hellatus that presume Cas will be permanently human (like Après, which I’ve also read enough times to have absorbed it into my soul). There were also a variety of stories written during last year’s hellatus that ran with the assumption that Lady Toni would end up allied with the Winchesters, and frequently romantically linked with Sam. Those were all obviously borked in a rather traumatic fashion by later canon, but some of the stories themselves are still entertaining and enjoyable reads.
I actually had the opposite problem while writing Revenge of the Subtext. I hadn’t really started writing with the intent to make Charlie a huge part of that universe... until 10.21 aired. She’d been slated to make a minor appearance and her role was important to the story, but HECK IF I DIDN’T START SPITE WRITING HER INTO THE ENTIRE FIC WITH BOTH HANDS after that point.
Also, I know it’s AU, but while writing Just Like A Honeymoon (which is the fourth installment of Tumblr Anonymous), I made Rowena out to be a “bad guy.” And yeah, it’s AU so I have more leeway to play with characterizations, but honestly it’s something I still feel terrible about given her later character growth in canon, you know? I have to keep reminding myself that at the time I wrote it (I started writing it during the s11 Winter Hiatus after she’d tricked Sam into the Cage with Lucifer), she WAS a bad guy in canon. :P
There are TONS of amazing fics out there that use minor characters in ways that don’t line up with canon. Even less-than-minor characters. That’s perfectly legit in fanfic. It doesn’t have to line up perfectly with canon. And if it bugs you to do it that way, then you can call it “Alternate Canon” or whatever to take the pressure off yourself. :)
It’s just one of the fun little difficulties about writing fic for a story that’s still being told to us, you know? Anything we write about it can at best be “canon compliant�� but only up to a certain point. Don’t let it stop you from writing your story!
*said the person who once posted a pre-coda crack fic knowing it would be completely borked by canon within two days of posting, but decided I needed to write it for the purposes of general personal catharsis anyway*
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Fic Author Interview
tagged by: the wonderfully talented and incredibly sweet @amirosebooks ❤
tagging: @iggyw @tenoko1 @casolantern @schmerzerling @amazinmango @serricoj @rainbofiction @coffeeandcas @topaz-eyes @angelofthemoor @culumacilinte @coplins
im going to do this from the slightly broader perspective of creative writing in general (since i write fic but i also write scripts and things for my job). also this is v long. sorry.
What inspires your work most? (The show it is based on, the actor who portrays a certain character, maybe the character itself…? It could even be an experience.) so generally my inspiration is (in order): (a) my own life experiences, (b) some kind of commentary i want to make about the source material or about fiction or fandom in general, and (c) the characters themselves and the aspects i love in them, especially trying to find ways to play with the duality of their personalities, the good aspects and the negative ones. i’ve known for a long time that what drives me to create is that i want to make other people feel less alone. you know those times to read something or there’s a line someone says, and you’re like, yes, yes, that’s me; no one’s ever gotten that before or at least never put it so perfectly into words, whatever that experience/feeling might be. i want to give people that moment with anything i create. there’s also a lot of things that i’ve experienced in my life that come up relatively often in fiction, or at least in fic, and a lot of it usually is off-putting to me. it never resonates. it’s melodramatic or simply inaccurate, and i think is often written by someone who doesn’t have the lived experience to pull from. so i always want to add my voice to the pile and benefit from my own experiences to make those kinds of tropes and situations more realistic and relatable -- to me, but hopefully also to others. like generally every character backstory or character arc i write in fic is something pulled from my own life. like it’s probably twisted or adapted somewhat, because i’m not into being autobiographical. but as an example, in faith healer, this bit: Memory degrades with time. Maybe as a child he knew that somehow. He knew that there would be a second, slower death across time, as she became more of idea than person, and so he clung onto specific moments as a talisman for Mom: I had a mom once; this was my mommy. He remembers her hands best. The way her skin was thin and dry, but her fingers strong, and the way they'd close around his hands. The way she would press in love and good luck and humility when he misbehaved with a squeeze to his chubby, too small hands. Second best he remembers her laugh, the way her mouth moved around a smile, the warmth in it, tinged with embarrassment whenever someone startled it out from her. The rest of the memories are vague, more like facts he can read out of a mental police blotter than lived experience. She used to wear some kind of fleece robe in the winter, thick and pilled, creating a soft cushion between her breasts for his head to rest when he sat in her lap for a story. He thinks the robe was red. She used to bake things from scratch and used to let him pretend to help. On Sundays she did laundry, down in the basement. He followed her once, asking when Dad would come back, and she paused on the landing, basket of clothes cocked on her hip, and wouldn't go any further until he went back upstairs. The basement, she said, was too dangerous for him, dark and damp. She wanted him to be safe. She always cut the crust off his sandwiches. that is my experience of my grandmother’s death. when she died i knew i would forget over time the specific details of her, so i picked a couple to remind myself of daily so i’d never forget them. and that was her hands and her laugh. and i do have that memory of her doing the laundry and standing on the landing to the basement asking her where my dad was and when he’d be back (he was on an 18 month voyage to africa - my dad is a sailor). and she did always cut the crusts off my sandwiches for me. (and btw i can’t ever re-read that passage with crying.)
What is your favorite fandom to write for? i mean, usually whatever my main fandom is at the time? which right now is spn. i did also enjoy writing potc fic and RDJ films sherlock holmes. i like writing characters who have a very strong but also very biased or unusual perspective on the world. they make for good unreliable narrators, which is something i love doing.
Which perspective do you prefer writing in? (First-person, third-person) always, always, always third-person limited is my go-to. i only write in first-person if the original source material is written that way (like ACD Sherlock Holmes) and i want to do a pastiche of that style.
Do you prefer writing reader fics or OCs? no. full stop. (okay, one caveat: i do like kidfic, but i am also SUPER PICKY about reading it bc im always looking for some accurate representations of parenthood and what it’s like to have a child. like kids are hard??? they’re hard and they make you worry and they drive you crazy and they have their own, weird, stubborn, fascinating views on life and the world. they’re not perfect angel children who exist only to be cute or ridiculously amazing mary sue geniuses. so yeah a well done kidfic where the kid is an OC i will read.)
Do you prefer writing longer works or one shots? given that every single WIP i have right now are fucking, horrible, lengthy novels,i want to say i prefer writing one-shots. i want TO BE ABLE to write one-shots. i used to do???? but yeah, i guess i really do enjoy plotting and world-building, which lends itself to creating monster plot bunnies instead of short stories or quick scenes.
Do you take requests? i do! do i ever actually get around to writing those requests is another question. but absolutely. send me prompts. ask for timestamps. if it speaks to me, and especially if it’s something i think i can write in less than 1000 words, i’ll most likely give it a go.
Do you enjoy getting random Asks? yes! always! i try to respond at least with in 72 hours. but yes please COME TALK TO ME ANYTIME.
What inspires the names for OCs (or extra character names) in your works? Do you pick them from real life or just select them at random? A mix? so with fic, i never really write OCs, or if i do, they’re p much a red shirt or like extra #243 or smth and therefore don’t have names. if a character has spoken dialogue or no on-screen dialogue but some impact on the plot, i’ll try to “cast” that part with a character from the source material. for example, in the family business (which i realise isn’t posted yet), there’s some issues with a rival gang that need resolving. i cast the head of the rival gang as a well-known character from spn that has generally served a rival or an enemy to the boys on the show. i like doing that bc i like the parallels it draws, especially when working with an AU, and the ability to explore characters and dynamics from a slightly (or not slightly at all but in fact completely divergent) angle. i follow the philosophy that part of the real cathartic nature of AUs and part of why we write them is the ability to offer commentary on the source material. that a good AU should offer commentary on the source material. they're both metatexts and paratexts simultaneously. the one caveat to this, again, is kidfic, because i like and i do write it (i’ve just never finished any of those fics enough to publish them). and then i try to name kids in the way i think their parents would name them. i try to put myself in the character’s headspace and try to figure out what name(s) would appeal to them. and if we talk about work, and the scripts i write, i mean all of that is basically OCs. so far every script i’ve written while employed by my current firm, i always stick in at least one instance of one of my dogs’ names. i also will make subtle film or tv references. like the script i just wrote, there were three characters, and the first character had already been named harold by our content lead. so i named the other two perry and harmony as a reference to kiss kiss bang bang. i’ve done all the clones from orphan black as OC names. i’ve done members of radiohead. if one of the scripts im writing already has a theme built into it for a specific pop culture reference (like yesterday one of the scripts i wrote was using yoda speech and star wars analogies as part of its marketing and engagement strategies) so i’ll name characters in line with that pop culture motif (so the star wars themed script has luke and ben and daisy and carrie as characters).
If your story(ies) have OCs, are their appearances based on real people or celebrities? If so, who? as mentioned above, i rarely include OCs and if i do, they’re unimportant stand-ins. so i never give much thought to how they look. offspring in kidfic i do think about how they look. if the actors who play the main characters have children, i’ll start there. like for dean and cas, i always look at jj and west and maison and try to figure out what a kid with some of those combined physical features might look like. i’ll also look at photos of the actors from when they were kids or teenagers and try to decide if these two people had a kid, what features would that kid inherit. for work, casting people depends on client expectations and design direction and budget, so it’s a different ballgame.
How long have you been writing fanfiction? i think the first fic i published was in 2002 or 2003. so 15 years i guess??? how has it been 15 years dude.
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Sick of Losing Soulmates: Part 1
Title: Sick of Losing Soulmates: Part 1
Pairing: Cas x Reader
Theme song: “Sick of Losing Soulmates” by Dodie
Word count: 2,690
Request: @amy-de-l-abc requested a Cas fic and I’d had this one mulling around for a while now, so here it is! :)
A/N: So this was originally intended to be a one shot, but it sort of got away from me. I had the idea of a story where the reader is working for Crowley, but is also in a relationship with Cas and has to keep the two separate somehow. Why is she working for Crowley? Will she be able to keep it a secret? What happens if Cas finds out? You’ll have to read and see . . . I’m not sure how many parts it will be, but I’m guessing two or three. Let me know if you want to be tagged in future fics!
You always hated the smell down here. And the lighting. And how cold it was. Everything, all of it, it reminded you of years in your past you tried to forget. It reminded you of flashes of figures that came back to you in your dreams. It tasted like hopelessness and smelled like death.
Just how Crowley liked it.
You followed him to his throne, where one of his demonic henchmen stood with a clipboard, ready to read His Majesty the list of traitors who needed sentences to determine the severity of their punishment. The demon leered at you, and if your stomach weren’t already in knots, you would have bared your teeth or flipped him off. Something to make Dean proud.
“Sir,” the demon said, turning his attention to Crowley. “We’ve got quite the list today, so if you don’t mind, I think it’d be best if we got started right away.”
“Can’t a king get a minute around here to breathe?” Crowley grumbled, all but flopping into his throne. You stayed a safe distance away from them both. Or as safe as you could get when you were in the heart of Hell. Your fingers itched for a weapon—a knife, a gun, a big stick, it didn’t matter.
“Will all due respect, sir, the prisoners are getting restless. We’ve lost three guards already.” The demon cast his gaze back to you, as if his problems were your fault somehow. Tingles ran up and down your spine, like tiny spiders.
Crowley’s dark eyes flicked to you. “You don’t have anywhere to be, do you, Kitten?”
“Don’t call me that,” you snarled. “And yeah, actually. I have to be back at the bunker like five minutes ago.”
Crowley gave a soft chuckle, but you’d known him long enough to recognize there was no humor behind the noise. “That question was a courtesy, Kitten. I wasn’t actually giving you permission to leave yet.”
Of course he wasn’t. “Crowley, we’ve talked about this. If you’re going to make me do all of this, you have to give me a little a freedom. They’ll get suspicious if I don’t go back soon.”
You stared at each other, neither of you blinking, both of you sizing the other up. A muscle near his eye twitched, almost imperceptibly, but you were attuned to those sorts of movements. As a hunter, you were always sizing a person up for potential weaknesses.
“What a strange being you are,” the demon mused in your direction. “Questioning the king of Hell, like you’re his superior.”
Crowley waved a hand to silence him. “Fine,” he relented. “But our next meeting will be longer. Text me with any updates. And I expect you to get your hands on something worthwhile the next time I see you, otherwise your friends the Winchesters will face the consequences. I won’t take no for an answer.”
It was his usual threat, his typical farewell to you, and you always rolled your eyes at him to show you weren’t afraid. But secretly, you wouldn’t dare test that promise. “Great. Can I go now?”
He snapped his fingers, and there you were, back by your car in the darkened parking lot. You put your face in your hands and let out a long sigh. How had it already been nine months of this?
#
“Freaking finally!” Dean called out from the kitchen as you descended the stairs, paper bag in hand. “How long does it take to pick up a few burgers and beers?”
“Calm down, drama queen.” You handed him the takeout and shrugged off your jacket. “There was a long line. I had to wait behind this old lady who couldn’t decide between sweet potato fries or curly fries.”
Dean wrinkled his nose. “Is there even a choice? Who would go for fried vegetables over deliciously seasoned bits of crispy heaven?”
“Maybe people who actually want to live to reach fifty?” Sam suggested. He smiled at you as you slid him his salad.
Dean grumbled something under his breath, but you didn’t catch it. You restrained from snorting at the noise he made after biting into his burger.
“Pretty good, huh?” You said.
He gave you a thumbs up. “Definitely worth the wait.”
“Where’s Cas?” You asked when you glanced around and couldn’t find the angel.
“Can’t keep your hands off each other for two seconds.” Dean shook his head at you, then dodged the balled up napkin you lobbed at his head.
“Shut up. I haven’t seen him all day. Isn’t he back from that case yet?”
“Last I heard he was going to check out another house.” Sam scrolled through his phone. “He texted me a couple hours ago. Looks like the demons really spread themselves out this time.”
Without any warning, Cas appeared behind him. He only looked at you, though, as if the others didn’t exist.
“Speak of the devil,” Dean said.
Cas blinked, then turned to him. “I’m not the devil, Dean.”
“It’s an express—never mind,” Dean said, knowing he’d never be able to explain it to Cas without taking several minutes.
Paying Dean no more attention, Cas swooped down to give you a quick kiss, which you leaned into with a smile. You hadn't thought the angel would be one for public displays of affection, but any sign of a hardened or more serious exterior melted when he was with you. You ignored the sound of Dean gagging, as well as the sound of Sam slapping Dean.
"Stop it," Sam chastised.
"I'm sorry, they're making me lose my appetite," Dean said.
"You're being dramatic." You twined your fingers through Cas' as he took a seat by you. The angel didn't eat, of course, but he was all too happy to keep you company whenever he had the chance.
"So, Cas," Sam attempted to change the subject. "How was the case? Any luck?"
Cas sighed, and the crease in his forehead appeared. You frowned at him. You never liked to see those wrinkles on him. It meant he was distracted, unhappy. Trying to get him to relax was already a challenge.
"That bad, huh?" Dean said.
"I managed to get rid of a few demons." Cas' voice was a deep rumble, but you caught the edge to it. "But I could never get them all. They seemed to be scattered everywhere, but they're all connected. I think they might be planning something."
Sam's eyebrows furrowed. "Planning what?"
"I don't know, but it can't be good."
You squirmed in your chair, poking at your glob of ketchup with a fry. Dean, who had been trying to fatten you up ever since you started working with them, flicked his gaze between your plate and your face. He looked like he was trying to read a foreign language.
"Not hungry?" He said.
You shrugged. "Eh. Just tired."
Now Cas looked concerned, but you didn't dare meet his eyes. It was bad enough trying to lie to Sam and Dean. You nibbled on the end of the fry in an attempt to draw the attention away from you.
"I did find this." Cas pulled his phone from his trench coat and opened a picture, sliding it across the table. Sam and Dean leaned forward to inspect it, but it only took you a glance to know what the strange symbol was.
"What is that?" Dean picked up the phone to look closer.
"I'm not sure. I've never seen those kinds of symbols before. But it was drawn in human blood." The rasp to Cas' voice became more prominent with disgust.
"Is it some kind of summoning ritual?" Sam suggested.
You, of course, knew what it was. Crowley had told you months ago. But you'd been hoping none of the boys would discover it. It made everything so much messier.
"I'll have to go back and see. That is, if the demons haven't already covered their tracks," Cas said. "I'll check again in a bit."
"No." You said quickly, your other hand shooting out to rest on his, like you were scared of him leaving right then. They all raised their eyebrows at you, and you wondered if your face looked as red as it felt. "Just--why don't you stay here for the night? I've missed you."
Dean gagged again. Cas' worried expression softened, his shoulders slumping a little.
"I can go tomorrow instead."
You grinned widely at him and kissed his cheek. "What would I be without you?"
As soon as the conversation moved to a safer topic, you allowed yourself a moment to catch your breath. The charade had been going on for close to a year, and yet you hadn't gotten used to it. It was a wonder you were able to handle the pressure at all.
Cas' thumb rubbed circles on your palm, calming your heart rate. Maybe it was the small wonders that allowed you to go on.
#
It was late into the night when you excused yourself to shower and change into pajamas. Hair up in a messy bun, you tapped on your phone screen, sending a text.
They know about the rituals.
As you chewed your thumbnail, which was already cracked and bleeding, a response came back.
How much?
Crowley, as always, wasn't a man of many words when it came to technology. He much preferred in person meetings with long, dramatic monologues. You definitely preferred this.
Just that the demons are up to something, but not what. They're going to look into it more tomorrow. You should clear everyone out.
I'm not going to bloody flee. We're close.
Close enough to finish before tomorrow?
If we're not finished, we'll take care of it.
Your heart jumped into your throat. You knew what "take care of it" meant. It meant bloodshed. It meant bad news for whoever was involved.
It meant endangering Cas.
But what choice did you have?
"Who are you texting?"
You squeaked and turned to face Cas standing in the doorway. God, he was quiet. Stuffing your phone into your sweatshirt pocket, you put on a brave face, a wide smile, a careful facade. Hide the truth. It had been your mantra for nine months. Which meant nine out of the twelve you'd been with Cas, your stomach had been in knots, your head in utter agony from the migraines. Your nightmares were fueled on guilt, which only made you more restless when the lights were turned off.
"Nobody," you said. Then, "Jody." Cas was unreadable, and your chest rose and fell too shallowly for you to think straight. He'd know something was up. You waved your hands in a dismissive manner. "She wanted some advice on teenage girls. No biggie. Are you coming to bed?"
"In a minute," he said. He still didn't move from the doorway. Your hands clutched at your phone tighter inside your pocket, fingers slick with sweat. "I have to go back."
"Go back where?"
"Wisconsin. To the warehouse where the symbol was."
Now you were sure you were going to throw up. "What? Why? I thought you said it could wait until tomorrow?"
Cas shook his head and stepped into your room. "It won't take long. I just have to check out a few more things I might have missed."
"But--it's not going anywhere, right? Just stay with me." You reached out to take his hands, hoping yours had dried enough to not draw suspicion. "Please."
The internal struggle Cas was having with himself showed on his face, in his slightly squinted eyes and parted lips. But he pulled away, leaving you breathless. "I can't. I'm worried something will happen if I don't act now. They could be up to something big, Y/N."
"What's one more night?"
"Y/N--"
You blurted out the first thing that popped in your head. "I know what they're up to."
Silence. You almost wished you'd pass out, just so something would happen. Something other than him staring at you like you'd hit him.
"What?"
"I--I recognized the symbol." You licked your lips, but it only seemed to make them drier.
The intensity of Cas' blue eyes had always made you weak in the knees, but now they made your legs tremble for an entirely different reason. "Why didn't you say anything before?"
"I didn't realize what it was until now." It was a feeble excuse, but you hoped the year you'd been together, the amount of trust you'd built, would be enough to believe you on this. Every time you relied on him trusting you, you felt horrible. But it was all for him, you told yourself. Him, Sam, and Dean. It was all for their protection. "I saw it in a book years ago."
"And?" He prompted you.
You were too on the spot to lie, so you gritted your teeth and told the truth. "It is a summoning ritual. It's to bring back the dead Knights of Hell, but it's incredibly complicated."
Cas rubbed his face with a hand, color draining from his skin. He paced a small circle in the room, looking utterly lost.
"This is all the more reason to go now," he said. "We have to stop--"
"We will," you assured him. You sat on the edge of the bed, too weak to hold yourself up anymore. Crowley was going to kill you. Maybe literally. "But not yet. And definitely not on your own. Look, I'm exhausted, I won't be any use to you tonight. But if we wait until tomorrow, I can go with you. And they're not close enough to do anything soon from the looks of that picture. There's still tons that needs to be prepared."
Now Cas looked like the angel you'd first met: lost, confused, serious, and on guard. You'd seen a different Cas in the past months, a Cas that laughed and told epic stories about life in Heaven when things were peaceful. You'd seen how gentle he could be with small children and animals and you. You'd felt his warm body pressed against yours at night as he hummed so you could fall asleep, and he'd stay with you like that until you woke up. You'd held his hand and leaped into his arms after a successful hunt and kissed him wildly and passionately.
All of that seemed to melt away like it had never happened. And it killed you.
"But you didn't say anything before now?" He said.
"It--it just occurred to me," you said. "I told you, I'm tired. I wasn't thinking straight. Can we please just take care of it tomorrow?"
He nodded, a small movement, and it didn't meet his eyes. They were cold, didn't hold any warmth toward you in that moment. But he shrugged off his trench coat and pulled back the covers to the bed. "Fine. We'll go tomorrow."
"Thank you," you mumbled.
He didn't answer. He didn't look at you at all as you finished getting ready for bed and crawled in next to him. And when you turned off the lights, he didn't make any move to hold you like he normally did. His back was to you.
You sighed, but didn't say anything and didn't try to move closer. All that mattered was you'd bought him some time. At least you'd done that.
You took the opportunity of Cas paying you no attention to turn the brightness down on your phone and sneak another text to Crowley.
I had to tell Cas what was up. I'm going with him tomorrow to shut it down.
It took longer for him to respond this time. You wondered if he was staring at it in shock as much as you were. How could you have gotten into a mess this deep?
You what?
I didn't have any other choice. I had to keep his trust. Finish up quick.
You don't give the orders, kitten.
I didn't have a choice.
There was another excruciatingly long period of time between texts. Then, a new one from him came in. Every part of you went numb.
We need to meet. Now.
Part 2
#Supernatural#reader x cas#fan-fiction#Fan-Fic#reader#series#part 1#Izzy#Isabel Walker#fandom#fictional characters#Cas#Castiel#Sam#Winchester#Dean#Crowley#Sick of Losing Soulmates#Dodie#request#fleels
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