#s8 au

[ambersock]

Vital Signs Chapter 7 (in case anyone is still reading this)

Vital Signs - Chapter 7 - AmberSock - Supernatural (TV 2005) [Archive of Our Own]

[shepscapades]

Surely this will have no negative consequences whatsoever!

[jessicareaper]

A continuation of this s8 au, and a little flashback to what Sam's been up to in the meantime.

---

He didn’t remember leaving the facility. No, that was a lie. He remembered bits—black leviathan goo, tacky under his feet as he hobbled out to the car. He remembered the massive crack in the windshield. He remembered finding the keys still in the ignition, and realizing Meg was gone too.

The Impala sounded almost as if it was coming apart as he backed it out of the wreckage of the Sucrocorp sign. But then he was out, and he just—drove.

It was still strange, being alone in his own mind. Being alone in the car. Being—

Do something, a panicked voice in the corner of his mind said. You have to fix it, you have to stop.

He kept breathing. He was used to ignoring voices by now.

At some point—hours, maybe, or days—he drifted into familiar roads. He wasn’t thinking about it. Wasn’t thinking about anything really. He’d probably eaten at some point, probably—definitely filled up the gas tank but it was all—a wash. His eyes were itchy, dry and tired as he squinted against the rising sun reflecting off the cars in front of him.

The crack in the windshield was hard to see through, and there was an ominous rattling sound coming from the undercarriage. He should stop. He should fix the problem. He kept driving.

Eventually though, he hit the coast. The road turned, merging with the PCH, but Sam’s eyes caught on the Pacific in front of him, insurmountable.

Fix it, pleaded the voice in the back of his head. Fix it, demanded the tightening of his chest and the quickening of his breath.

Sam pulled over and stumbled out of the car.

His knees were wobbly, and his feet ached, but he pushed forward, as if possessed, till he hit the sand of the beach and his legs gave out.

There was a roaring in his ears, and Sam had no idea whether it was the waves or his own blood or his ragged breath or all three. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead into the sand.

Dean and Cas were gone, behind a wall more impenetrable than the ocean in front of him. Bobby was burned, Kevin and Meg captive who knew where.

He should get up. He should get up. He should—

Sam dug his fingers into the sand, gritting his teeth against another shallow breath, and another, and another. He couldn’t hear the ocean anymore.

Get up. Get up. Get up.

“Hey man, you okay?”

Sam flailed backward with a full-body jerk, reaching into his waistband for his gun.

The man standing over him—when had he got there?—fell back, eyes going wide. “Woah!”

The sight of the other man’s fear was like a needle to the bubble of panic surrounding Sam, and he shook himself, tucking away the gun. “Sor-sorry,” he mumbled.

The guy held his hands up in placation and took another step back. “Look, man, I don’t want any trouble. I just—you’re good, right?”

No. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” Sam shoved his shaking hands into the sand, pushing himself to his feet. “Uh. Thanks, man.”

“No problem,” the guy said, and then, with one more sideways glance, he tucked his headphones back into his ears and jogged away.

Sam watched him for a moment, swaying on his feet. “Fuck,” he muttered, and swiped at the sand crusting his his forehead.

The panic left nothing but exhaustion in its wake, and Sam briefly considered collapsing back into the sand. Instead, he stumbled back to the car. The windshield was still cracked.

He folded himself into the back seat. If Sam closed his eyes, he could pretend the roar of the waves was a second set of lungs, breathing slow and easy in the front seat.

He woke to the sun high in the sky and the insistent ringing of his phone. Who was calling?

Wait. Who would be calling?

He shot up, almost whacking his head on the roof of the Impala as he dug his phone out of his pocket and whipped it open. “Hello?” he demanded.

“Sam? Thank god," the voice on the other end breathed. "It’s Kevin.”

[boo-gutzz]

Well since I can't make any new art rn yall can have some old wips/misc doodles. They're rly bad and messy mostly but. Yk

Also "why are cleo's ribs over their clothes?" Bc it looked cool in my head

Bonus Mumbo/Scott doodle for my silly s8 AU I never elaborated on bc its much funnier to b vague

[applestruda]

Knights your boatem

[ethosiab]

bkau etho :3 (design by the amazing @applestruda)

[daily-grian]

happy PJO tv day to those who celebrate, have a Hermes!Grian

[mischiefbuckley]

If oliver had a nickel for every time he got the script and read that he had to play a doctor surrounding a medical coma sequence on the show he’d have two nickels which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird that it happened twice now

[vesperionnox]

[ Day 133 ]

Is the Moon big?

[legendaryblueoranges]

Sudden Collison

ITS FINALLY HERE! LET THE GAMES BEGIN!

I'm SO sorry that took so long, my real life and mental health decided to implode- I've struggled so much making just this one comic... BUT, I have a completed plot line... so there will be more comics don't worry.

1 / 2 / 3

Although I might need some help... So, if anyone has any ideas for what games the hermits should play (if you want to include penalties for losing too, feel free!)

[shepscapades]

[Part 1] [Part 2] [PART 3]

The beginning of a delightful new partnership!

Bonus below:

[cjskribblez]

Something about a lonely astronaut, a radio, and the color red amiright folks

Au by @slashmagpie :)

[boo-gutzz]

The yappers + silly au doodle I probably won't ever explain lmao

[applestruda]

Big eyes crew boatem knights au designs

[andybug1]

the real reason that bucktommy didn’t work is bc buck would own the flower shop but tommy would NOT own the tattoo parlor in the au

[ethosiab]

If you follow me on my main you may have noticed I have very recently read @applestruda and @hopepetal 's boatem knights AU and now am slightly obsessed with it

So naturally I drew a bunch of doodles

Bonus :> scar