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thewhiterabbit42 · 5 years ago

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WIP Tournament

Week 1 - Soulmates vs Somniphobia

Soulmates [Gabriel x reader]: Every world Chuck’s created may be different, but there are some threads that remain universal, and Sam, Dean, and Castiel try to use it to their advantage to save their reality from descending into darkness.

Somniphobia [Dean x reader, Gabriel x reader]: Nothing’s the same since Gabriel’s return, including the night terrors you’ve had since you were a child. The more you experience these, however, the less you’re certain that’s what they are.

Below the cut are 300-500 ~1000 words from the beginning of each WIP and some general tags for each story. Vote for the one you want to see continued in the next round by:

Sending an Ask (anon’s allowed)

Leaving a comment on this post or in the body/tags of reblogs

Voting is open until midnight 6/7. Thanks in advance to everyone who participates and keeps my muse going!

Soulmates

Preview warnings: none

General story tags: series, dark fic, canon divergent, post S14, dark(ish) Gabriel, slow burn, eventual smut [additional tags withheld to avoid spoilers]

You’re told you’re important, so much so that there are people ready to fight and die at a moment’s notice for you, but you don’t understand why your life is worth more than anyone else’s.

You’re told you’re lucky. Hundreds of people are out there, alone and defenseless, but you have the Winchesters and the seraphim, Castiel, to protect you.

You’re told you’ll understand when you get there. It will all make sense. You’ll just know, and it sounds one degree away how parents pacify a questioning child.

You’re told so many things, about angels and demons, zombies and God. The seraphim, Sam, and Dean are a wealth of knowledge, and it’s clear their intelligence and determination is much of what’s preventing monsters from swallowing this world whole.

Yet, for all their wisdom and abilities, you don’t understand why none of them can tell you who you really are.

They say your name is Ana, but it feels the same as when they tell you how the world came to be like this: empty, foreign, and one hundred percent certifiable.

You can’t remember a thing from before you woke up to the three of them standing over you while you suffered from what felt like a universal sized hangover. They’d practically had to drag you from the building as it became swarmed, and there isn’t much you recall from that either other than snarls and snaps and screams.

If you didn’t know better, you would swear this is just one, long nightmare.

The fact you can’t take ten steps without getting whacked by a zombie, spirit, or demon convinces you otherwise. Rather, the constant pain of it does. Memory or not, you’re pretty certain you’ve never hurt his much in your life, and if that’s not true, then it’s a blessing your past has vanished.

Sometimes it feels like you’ve been sucked into a work of fiction and are living someone else’s story. Most days, however, it simply feels like Hell on earth, which you imagine is the entire point of an apocalypse.

It takes you all of a day to realize you don’t like being told. What to do. How to act. When to drop it. Anything by the seraphim. It could be information overload, or maybe how he acts like saving your life somehow gives him the right to control it.

There’s just as much that they don’t tell you, like why you’re so special or where you’re even going. Nobody knows, except the trio because it’s too important.

The seraphim attempts to drop a scholarly essay on you about the fickleness of human nature and how easily persuaded it becomes during times of uncertainty and duress. Dean thankfully breaks it down for you in much more relevant terms.

“Demons are convincing people to go darkside without possessing them. Promising them favors and rewards, the usual bullshit.”

You’re thankful for his candor, but that’s as far as it extends, his lips as sealed as tightly as the seraphim’s. You might have an in with the gentle, if not overly pensive giant that accompanies them, but every time you think you have a moment alone with Sam, one of the others appears and the opportunity slips away.

Whatever you were before this is clearly not useful. There’s no muscle memory or instinct to guide you. You are so far out of your element, and watching them cut through monsters like they’re nothing make you question how long you’ll actually survive.

You won’t. You’re not meant for this world. You don’t suppose anyone is, really. Who’s born to go up against such impossible odds? To live in fear and witness such gruesome horrors?

You know you need them, which is why you don’t push for answers. Not at first. But you’re only human, and as the days stretch on in front of you, your ability to blindly trust there’s a reason for this all erodes with every fresh body that’s left in your wake.

It’s not that they’re heartless. You see the toll it takes every time they’re forced to ignore a cry for help, or watch another ally sacrifice themselves for the cause. But you don’t operate this way, on secrets and orders and the greater good, especially when you can’t fathom how you could be part of it.

They’re not a chatty bunch to begin with, but the car is particularly silent after your protest. Sam’s features are pinched in thought, worry more than anything seeping through the surface. Dean is not impressed, though he hasn’t said a word. The seraphim, however, is pissed.

There’s no doubt in your mind if one of the men had lectured you, you’d have simply tuned them out, but there’s no ignoring the seraphim when he’s mad. Fire and brimstone may not fall from his lips, but there was plenty of Heaven’s wrath in his eyes.

“What you did was stupid and reckless, and the moment you left this car you put everyone on this planet in jeopardy.” He thunders, blue burning so fierce it begins to glow. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

“I didn’t ask for this!” You hiss, jabbing him hard in the center of his trenchcoat, sorely tempted to jump out of the car for the second time that day.

You flex your free hand, grimacing at their rawness as you briefly wonder if you’ve ever had road rash before. The zombie bite to the shoulder, however, you’re pretty certain is a new one.

You move your hand again, the discomfort temporarily distracting you from the persistent, burning throb that’s beginning to spread down your arm.

For someone so important, you’d think they’d do a better job of patching you up.

Somniphobia

Preview warnings: none

General story tags: one shot (?), canon divergent, dark fic, dark(ish) Gabriel, love triangle

“One.” A solitary finger appears over the edge of your lorebook, dragging it down to reveal determined shades of gold.

Even though it’s futile, you have to at least attempt to change the topic. “One more victim before we hit a double digit body count?”

As expected, it’s like you haven’t even spoken.

“One night,” Gabriel insists, using both his hands to push your book flat onto the table. “Let me take you out of this dismal hole in the ground for one evening and do something fun like we used to.”

You sigh, loudly, hoping this might be the time he takes the hint. He doesn’t, and you end up having to push his grip away from the pages so you can try to go back to reading. “I’m in the middle of helping Dean.”

“What? He suddenly out of thumbs and unable to crack a book himself?” The archangel snarks. There’s an unusual thrum of impatience beneath his words. Not that it’s uncommon for him to be irritable these days. He’s just not usually with you.

“We’re a team,” you remind him. Not that you’re certain he understands the concept. He might act like he’s the newest member of Team Free Will, but you have a sneaking suspicion it’s because so far there’s the payoff of finishing his hit list and getting to stick his dick in something.

“For crying out loud,” he hisses, all pretense of patience vanishing. “Are you ever gonna come off that? It was one time.”

Between you, Sam, and Dean, you’re aware of at least three, and you try hard not to think about how high the actual number is if all of you have managed to catch them.

You’re not certain what upsets you more. That he’s clearly hit it off with Rowena. That he’s lying to your face about it, or maybe it’s the likelihood he’s still doing it even as he’s on a mission to rekindle your friendship in what increasingly feels like not so platonic ways.

You know he’s been through a lot. You know the horrors he’s experienced are the kinds of things that change someone. You still accept him, whatever variant he may be now, but knowing about Rowena still smarts. More than you’d like to admit. More than you know is fair. Nonetheless, it does, and you’ve had enough disappointment in your life than to want to know how much it will hurt to become just another one night stand to him.

“C’mon, sweetheart, what will it take to convince you to give me a chance?”

You purse your lips, refusing to answer him, no different than the time before, the one before that, or the several before that.

“I need to focus right now.” End of discussion.

From the corner of your eye you can see his hand raising, fingers poised for that trademark snap. The moment it echoes around the room you sigh, flipping the book shut and folding your arms over your chest like a sullen child.

You know what he’s done, and as happy as you should be that there is one less monster in the world, you hate it when he swoops in to save the day. Before, there was a thread of altruism running through most of his actions. Now, it’s whatever serves his interests in the moment, and another reminder that the Gabriel you knew is gone.

The archangel, on the other hand, looks positively pleased with himself.

“Want to know what it was?”

You look him square in the eye. "A power move?“

Your not certain what happens in these moments when everything stills and he looks almost unnatural. It’s too subtle for human perception, but whatever it is makes you incredibly uneasy beyond the brief second it occurs.

“Thanks for the help, Gabriel,” he smiles brightly, though it’s your voice that comes out of his mouth. A slightly more sarcastic version, but still you nonetheless.

You scrub at your face, trying to do a hard reset with your mood. He’s right. Regardless of his motives, you should be grateful that no one else is going to get hurt.

“I’m sorry.” You don’t mean to be such an ass. He just has a way of bringing that out in you these days. “I’m just tired. Thank you.”

There’s a pause before his eyes narrow. “Are you having nightmares again?”

They’re not exactly nightmares. Night terrors, perhaps, though you think the official term is sleep paralysis. All of it’s just an easier way of saying you’re such a hot mess that you can’t even manage to wake up from sleep normally.

They started when you were a kid, and they tend to really ramp up when you’re under stress.

Which, given your line of work and the company you keep, tends to be a lot.

What Gabriel doesn’t know is how bad they’ve been since he died… or rather faked his own death and took off to fuck and party his way through existence.

You’d also like to keep it that way.

“It’s whatever,” you brush his concern aside. “I should call Dean and let him know it’s done.”

You need to get away from him, before your not so subtle pushes to keep him at arm’s length turn into shoves. The more he tries to pretend like things haven’t changed, the more you resent him and not the monsters responsible for changing him into the warped version of your friend that’s returned.

You stand up, but you haven’t even taken a step when he catches you by the arm.

“You know you can talk to me, right?” All pretenses drop. That soft underbelly of his emerges, in the quiet quality of his voice, resonating beneath his touch as his thumb strokes along your sleeve.

In these rare moments, he almost sounds like himself again, and they never fail to remind you how much you miss him: your Gabriel.

You catch yourself before you lean into him, but you don’t stop the finger beneath your chin from making you look at him.

The moment your eyes meet his you immediately regret it.

There’s nothing there. No warm flecks of gold. No playful green. Nothing but still waters surrounding vacuous depths that scare you with how infinite they seem.

“I know I messed up. With a lot of things. With you.” His confession is as startling as the emptiness that continues to echo through his gaze. “But that doesn’t mean I’ve stopped caring.”

You can’t help but feel like it’s forced, like he’s trying way too hard to be what he thinks you want him to be, and it hurts far more than him sleeping around ever could. His sincerity is the last vestige of your friend you have to cling to, and if that, too, is gone, you’re not certain you know who is really standing in front of you.

Soulmates or somniphobia? Send and ask and let me know!

#wip tournament: round 2 #week 1 #soulmates vs somniphobia

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thewhiterabbit42 · 6 years ago

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WIP Tournament Round 2

I got a little steam rolled by life again this week, so I’m behind on the WIP Tournament posts and getting the Writing Challenge for Part 2 out of this whole shindig. But here are the fics that I will begin writing:

How does round two work?

Two WIPs will square off every two weeks with a minimum of 300 words shared from the first part of each of them.

You will get one week from when they are posted to vote for the one you want to see continued.

First WIP set will post this Friday, 5/31 at 9pm EST.

Below the cut will be tentative post dates / full descriptions of WIPs (as they stand) and other info for how the voting and Second Chance round will work.

Thanks again for everyone who participated in round 1!

Dates / Descriptions

The dates below are tentative and subject to change (as are any of the trajectories of the WIPs).

Quick description notes:

The four bingos being written for are Spn Dark Bingo, Gabriel Bingo, Heaven & Hell Bingo (H&H), and Spn Kink Bingo.

👌 = this idea has behaved itself and stayed a oneshot

☢️ = this idea has no idea what it’s going to do, but could explode at any moment

😱 = this idea exceeds a 10k word count and may become multiple parts

⚰️ = this idea became a motherf’n series, and there’s no going back now

5/31 - Soulmates vs Somniphobia

Soulmates (dark) / Mistaken Identity (Gabriel) / Amnesia (H&H) [Gabriel x reader]: Every world Chuck’s created may be different, but there are some threads that remain universal. ⚰️

Somniphobia (dark) [Dean x reader, Gabriel x reader]: You’ve had night terrors since you were a child, but the more you experience these, the less you’re certain that’s what they are. 👌

6/14 - Roommates vs Sex Pollen

Roommates (H&H) / Stalking (dark) [Gabriel x reader]: You’re nervous about moving to a new place where you don’t know anyone, including the person you’re sharing an apartment with. You hope he’s as decent as he seems, because when you start seeing strange figures lurking in the shadows and feel like you’re constantly being watched, he might be the only person you can trust. ☢️

Sex Pollen (kink) / Debriel (Gabriel) / Dark fic (H&H) [Debriel x reader / potential OC]: Not your average sex pollen fic. 😱

6/21 - Threesome vs Fuck or Die

Threesome (H&H) / Loki and Gabriel (Gabriel) / Double Penetration (kink) [Loki x reader x Gabriel]: Gabriel and Loki play a high stakes game of poker with you as the prize. 👌

Fuck or Die (kink) [dark!Chuck x reader, Dark!Gabriel x reader]: Chuck has big plans for you (The Last of Us Part 2) 👌

6/28-6/30 2nd chance round

Was there a WIP idea from round 1 that really interested you but didn’t make the cut? Was there a fic from round 2 that you really really wanted to see where it was headed but it’s been taken off the table? Now’s your chance to bring it back!

For three days, a survey will be open listing all the WIPS from Round 1 or 2 that have been eliminated in which you vote for your top three picks, and the WIP with the most votes gets thrown back into the running.

Round 2 Voting Info:

Voting will be open for the week following when WIP sets are posted (Friday to Friday)

Votes will be accepted via:

Asks (anonymous votes are 100% ok)

Comments

Comments on reblogs within the body or tags

Results will be posted on Sunday afternoon or whenever my tiny overlords dictate I can.

#Bingo WIP Tournament: Round 2

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