#thinking about sam with his twisted up self worth and need for his brother's trust. ugh they ruin me. 😔

[sunbleachedf4wn]

powerline valley, ethel cain

[hawkland]

My (mostly) Destiel Recs, Round-up #6

Well, between working like crazy on my DCBB fic and GISH and injuring my neck last month I haven’t kept up with my rec posts, so this one is going to be LONG and have a LOT and I’m going to try to break it up into sections, from oldies but goodies (some things I found on very old rec lists) to smutty delights to just tasty little bits of fluff, hopefully there’s something or everyone here. Most of these are not super-long, largely in the 10-25k range, though there are a few beyond that. With all the stuff I’ve had going on I haven’t wanted to lose sleep diving into 100k epics (especially when I’m writing my own right now, lol.)

“Oldies” but Goodies:  Here are two great fics written some time way back when but that still definitely slap.

Theodicy by manic_intent (11k) - Probably the most brilliant Godstiel fic I’ve read to date. One of Cas’s first acts as the new god is to make a new archangel. Dean isn’t exactly on board with having his soul re-sculpted into wings he hates on sight (especially as they seem magnetically drawn to Cas), but he isn’t exactly given a choice. He, Sam and Bobby struggle with how to handle their former friend suddenly becoming a vindictive deity - trying to make plans to kill him if they must, which is pretty hard when it seems like Cas is always one step ahead of him. Can Dean hold on to enough of his humanity to provide a conscience to Cas and try to steer him toward good acts instead of destruction? This is one that I can’t say has a perfectly happy ending, but it’s a hopeful and imperfect one that’s just right for how the story plays out. 

My Eyes Are An Ocean by entanglednow (10k) - Season 5 AU where Dean averts the apocalypse through a spell that “powers up” all the angels and he sees Cas’s true form - before being rendered blind. Dean tries to adjust to his blindness, Cas tries to deal with his guilt, and it’s just a lovely little read with an ending that’s... *chef’s kiss*

Lots more recs below the cut:

More great reads from some of my favorite authors I’ve recced before:

The Cabin on the Lake by DeanRH (21k) - This may be my new favorite DeanRH fic...at least for the moment. The year is 2152, Sam and Dean are long gone to Heaven, while Cas - stuck somewhere between mortal and angel - remains on Earth keeping vigil, keeping up the hunt, assuming he’ll never see either Winchester ever again. But when he starts hearing things, and imagining Dean visiting him as an angel himself, he starts losing grip on what is and isn’t real, and whether he can trust anything he sees or believes to be the truth. This is one hell of a psychological rollercoaster that kept me guessing right along with Cas until the very end. It also has some super-creepy horror elements, a novel “monster of the week”, and the hot-as-sin smut scenes I always expect from this author.

X Marks the Scot by DeanRH (15.9k) A fun little romp through history in one of this author’s great not-quite-au fics. Crowley sends Dean and Sam back in history to the Scottish Highlands to stop a monster, and while there they meet a blue-eyed clan chief who makes Dean weak in the knees. There’s something familiar about him, too. a very clever au that ties back to canon for an unexpected fix-it. Also, Cas in a kilt. Enough said.

The Hanging Gardens of Babylon by DeanRH (12k) - Sweet and slightly angsty AU. What if Dean was a gardener in ancient Babylon when a strange dignitary came to warn that the tower under construction was to be destroyed by angels? Lush, romantic and sexy with some wonderful tie-ins to canon characterizations (of Dean, Sam, John and of course Cas).

sufficient for thee by angelfishofthelord (21k) - This is a beautiful Cas angst-fest and character study that reimagines how angel grace works, particularly in regards to healing others. It covers the whole of Cas’s arc from Season 4 through a post-series fix-it, is absolutely stunning and features some great world-building in regards to the angels. (One important TW: those with cutting/self-harm issues may wish to skip or at least proceed with caution). I love that I can always count on angelfishofthelord when I need a good dose of Cas!whump and pain.

And laugh at gilded butterflies by ireallydidthistomyself (13k) - another great Dadstiel fic from this author featuring one of my favorite angsty subjects! I don’t know how I missed reading this one before. An AU where Cas is raising (baby)Jack on his own until the angels find the two of them and prepare to seal Jack away in the Ma’lak box. Cas begs them to let him go with Jack, so at least Jack won’t be alone for eternity. Meanwhile Dean is frantically trying to find what happened to Cas, and he gets some unexpected help from Crowley.  It’s sad and sweet and all the characterizations are great. A+ Crowley use here, too.

what stays (and what fades away) by dothraki_shieldmaiden (64k) - a fabulous read with some great art, too, that started me reading a bunch of fic from this author. Cas goes missing, and when he’s found he seems deep under a spell. When they finally manage to awaken him, he doesn’t remember anything of this life with Dean, Sam and Cas in the bunker. The last thing he knew he was a nurse living with his wonderful husband, Dean, and their two adopted children, Jack and Claire. What I loved about this one was the clever twist as to who was behind Cas’s curse and also how well-developed his AU world/existence was. I’m not generally keen on mundane aus or the one-dimensional way a lot of djinn dream fics tend to go for them, but this one managed to capture a believable version of Dean and Cas living a “normal” life without monsters without making it sugary/too-sweet. 

before knowing remembers by dothraki_shieldmaiden (14k) Post 15x04, a wonderful fic that plays with some meta topics in a clever way. Dean and Sam are happy - they have free will and they’ve won against Chuck, even if they suffered some big losses along the way (including Jack). But Dean can’t help but think he’s forgetting something...or rather, someone. Yet every time he thinks he remembers, the name and face of that someone slips from his mind. 

weights on my ankles by dothraki_shieldmaiden (9k) Post-15x03 where Cas ends up going back to the Gas ‘n Sip and working with Nora after leaving the bunker. A bitter sweet divorce-arc AU and what I love the most is how it ends - not perfect, not tragic, just very real and believable. 

15x18 and Post-canon fix-it fics:

Orbital Velocity Around a Celestial Body by LeverDrift (26k) - An angsty but lovely fix-it fic, one where it gets worse for a while before it gets better. Dean pulls Cas from the Empty, where he’d been living in a fantasy world with a dream!Dean who was giving him everything real!Dean is certain he can’t. Dean has to struggle with wondering if Cas would have been better off with dream!Dean instead of him. This is one that will break your heart before putting it back together again as Dean struggles with his self-worth issues.

so good at crashing in by Wintertree (36k) - Another post-finale fix-it where Cas is back, the world is saved, and things are still...not as easy as it should be for either Dean nor Cas. Monsters are gone, there’s no more hunting to be done, and Cas wants to move out of the bunker somewhere closer to Claire, to move on with a proper human life. Dean thinks he can move there with Cas and stay as “best friends”, even to the extent that Cas encourages him to go out and have sex with others/women. (And wants to hear about it after the fact!) But can Dean figure out what he really wants, and what Cas wants as well? A refreshingly unique take on what a post-series life could have looked like for them.

Delicious smut:

Empty by squirrelofcelestialintent (43k) - Every day this fandom makes me rethink my previous squicks and DNWs in fanfic. Here I find myself enjoying quite a bit more dom/sub elements than I normally ever would! I think because I was absolutely drawn in by the breathtaking first chapter, capturing beautifully the emotions of Cas returning from the Empty in Season 13 if he and Dean had confessed their feelings right then and there. But Dean’s self-worth is all fucked up, he feels there’s no way he can be good enough for Cas, especially when his sexual desires run a little bit...let’s just say outside the vanilla and he’s struggling with shame over doing sex work when he was younger. This was HOT and POOR SAM really gets stuck in the middle of, well, hearing more about his brother’s sex life than he ever needed to.

He's My Mate by Hatsonhamburgers (22k) - This fic manages the delightful combination of humor and extreme hotness perfectly. Dean and Cas catch each other in some questionable masturbation situations. This leads Cas to decide he needs to buy Dean some proper sex toys. He’s just helping his best friend out, right? Sure. As I said, hysterical AND hot as hell. 

Generals by nanoochka (9k) - Cas/Dean, Cas/Balthazar/Dean, implied past-Cas/Balthazar. An old LJ fic I found on an ancient rec list that is just scorching hot and a brilliant character study of Cas and Dean. Balthazar decides to invite himself in when he catches Dean and Cas engaging in some frisky business, and it turns into a bit of a power-play between the two soldiers of Heaven. Cas gets DP’ed and it’s all...well. It’s fucking good, read it.

The One With The Preening by HolyFuckingHell (5.5k) Can I do a rec post without including some wing!kink/wing!grooming in it? No, I can’t. (I also really enjoyed some of the other fics in this author’s series including The One With Dean's Horny Movies).

A Single Point of Light by Destina (2.4k) - This is a gorgeous Cas/Dean/Benny Purgatory short! A delicious balance of the two each caring for and caring about Dean in their own, protective ways, definitely a delight for any fans of this threesome.

Short and sweet, fluff to angst:

Snugglebird by almaasi (5.3k) - So, so soft and sweet and snuggly, just like the title. Dean’s things are disappearing from the bunker...and so, suddenly, has Cas. What’s going on? I do love my nesting!Cas fics, so...yeah. If you need a smile this is a good one to read :)

And Cleanse Me From My Sin by thisisapaige (1.6k) - another one for my beloveds who also enjoy wing grooming and sweet Dean-taking-care-of-Cas fluff.

Needle and Thread by Misachan (4k) - Season 5 wing!fic hurt/comfort. Cas’s wings are badly injured, Dean doesn’t quite know what he’s doing, but he’s stitched up Sam and himself enough times. He can do this. If you love caretaker!Dean and vulnerable!Cas don’t overlook this little gem.

Deceptive Preludes by sp8ce (2.7k) - One of those stories that delves into some of the difficulties Cas might have after coming back from the Empty a second time, especially in regards to accepting what’s real or not, understanding Dean, and how both of their communication issues can add to their struggles. Painful but hopeful for the future, felt very believable as I read it.

[amwritingmeta]

S15: Dean and Cas

Pardon my lateness. Life is mental at the moment! I haven’t watched 15x17 yet but hope to do so today or tomorrow. Gods preserve me, for then there will be only three more episodes left. *is this real life??*

Okay, leaving that, let’s talk about Dean and Cas, shall we? Yes, we shall!

Dean and Cas’ relationship, or rather, how they relate themselves to each other, has been in focus this season, because it’s been pivotal to both of their arcs in canonically straightforward ways. Ways so straightforward that we haven’t really seen the likes of them since S11, and with the very heavy-duty callbacks to S11 these last two episodes, it all seems quite fitting.

I mean, Jack is a bomb like Dean was a bomb and Dean got to ask Amara why she would bring Mary back, and she got to clarify she meant it as a gift, a thank you at the end of S11, because Dean didn’t blow himself to kingdom come and her along with him, because instead he realised how he could broker peace and allow for light and dark to find balance.

Which is what Dean needs to find right now.

He needs to balance out the light and dark, the masculine and the feminine, the conscious and unconscious, the ego and the shadow. He needs to balance himself out in order to let go of his fury. Why does he need that? Why would the narrative continuously hit on him needing to let go of his anger? Because that’s the reason why he was put on this journey to begin with, this slow and steady coming-of-age-coming-into-his-own progression of finding forgiveness and feeling worthy and having faith that he deserves good things.

How do we know this?

Well, arguably this season through what happens to Dean whenever he gives his fury free range, whenever he allows it to hollow out his faith, his trust, making him one-track minded, suspicious and controlling: he loses something.

He loses Cas.

This season has been all about highlighting what happens when Dean is unable to be even the slightest bit self-aware, when he veers off the path of self-acceptance. This season, Dean has had Cas disappear out of his life twice: first when Cas walked out of the bunker and second in Purgatory, when Cas went with the Leviathan. (to get them away from Dean)

The first time Dean almost lost Cas was really all about highlighting Cas’ independence (thank fuck for that), letting us see how far they’ve come in their relationship, because Dean didn’t dig himself a grave this time, perhaps having faith, in spite of it all, that Cas would come back to him, and Cas went off on his own, feeling like there was nothing left for him at the bunker when there was no forgiveness to be had from Dean.

Except, Cas thought better of it. He realised it wasn’t just on Dean to push for change—it was on him as well. And, knowing Dean, Cas had the epiphany that he would have to lead the way. 

Dean, of course, not being able to forgive and forget all that easily, needed a final push, which is why the second time he almost lost Cas was all about Dean. He had to confront his anger. He had to, because naming it and admitting it as the root cause of so many of his actions (and reactions) is a cornerstone for him to begin letting that anger go.

Almost losing Cas brought him to a moment of clarity, brought him to take a knee and admit to being wrong and offering the forgiveness he’d been holding back, because being angry is easier, especially when, it could be argued, you were beginning to feel that trust in good things lasting.

Yeah, speaking of good things lasting, it brings us to this question: Why is Dean so angry? 

He doesn’t know why (or so he claims) and he probably does need to have his eyes opened for him, the way Amara tried to open them, the way his conversation with her was a highlighter for the point he’s being pushed to finally reach in his progression: forgiving the past, embracing the present, trusting in the future and in the fact that he deserves to live a long and happy rest of his life. 

The fact that she’s completely dressed in pink - hello positive femininity representative who kicks ass and who once almost killed God and then was balanced out so that she instead healed him with her light and they twisted into dark and light smoke and went off together - is just delicious icing on the cake.

Yeah, and that’s the issue, Dean, alright, buddy?

Dean is angry because his mother died and her death meant that he lost his father too, it meant that he didn’t get to have a childhood, it meant that he stopped believing that he could have good things that would last, because of a confused sense of identity and a crippled sense of self-worth—why did bad things happen to him if he didn’t deserve it somehow?— and pushed him to mold himself into what would make him feel strong and brave: the image that his father projected. 

The soldier.

The weapon and the shield.

And now it seems Protect Sammy has morphed into Sacrifice Jack, all because Dean’s fury at Chuck’s manipulation isn’t containable, and there’s no way Dean’s going to let Chuck live. Even if it means Jack dies in the process. As Dean said to Sam in 15x16: at least it’s not them this time. 

All the while we just sit here and witness Dean morphing into the revenge thirsty spitting image of his father one last time, for one final, big ole push towards the line he’ll have to cross if he’s to finally understand once and for all where it’s actually drawn.

At Cas’ feet.

Remember back in S12, before Cas died, there was that subtle (erm) motif of pointy things going through people’s hearts from behind? Yeah. It happened twice, if I remember correctly, before the pointy end of an angel blade went through Cas’ heart and he died an angel death in the season finale.

Yeah. That.

So.

So now, in S15, we have Cas caught in a motif again, only this time Dean is right there with him, because it involves both of them. 

We’ve had anger and loss, and then honesty and forgiveness.

We’re back to anger, we’re back to Dean seeing red, blinded by it, and the only thing—we’ve been shown—that can unblind him is…?

That’s right: losing Cas.

So he will lose Cas again. We’ve been on the precepice of this as fact for a good long while now, haven’t we, my merry macarons? We have indeed! The question becomes how will Dean lose Cas again? Is Cas actually going to die? Again??

I still sincerely doubt it.

I think Cas will find another way, and that other way will equal a sacrifice on his part. His life? I mean, it could be, but what about the Empty? What about allowing himself to be happy? It could add up somehow, I guess I just can’t see it. So I think the sacrifice will somehow involve Heaven, because we know Michael will be back, and I hope it will involve Hell and all of the forces God has brought into being working against him—together.

S p e c.

Now, I’m a sadist. No, not like that -> I’m a sadist when it comes to characters. Not that there’s anything wrong with being a sadist. (Misha Collins is one, as we all know) (I joke!) (down Bessie!) What I’m getting at is that I want Cas having no other recourse but to do whatever it is he’ll have to do to save Jack to, quite literally, break Dean. 

We know they’re all teary eyed in 15x18 (feels like it’s Billie whom Dean is glaring at) and we’ve seen Dean crying against a wall and omfg I want it to be explicit and over Cas. Yeah? 

We ain’t getting them driving off in the Impala together (which is fine btw because the final episode should focus on the brothers more than anything else) (I mean, a hint that they will be driving around in that Impala post season finale while Sam goes to be with Eileen would be fab, but we can only hope and wish, yeah?) (horses held), so let’s get Dean broken over thinking he’ll never see Cas again. 

Let it be done with a big fat black marker in enormous circles around his emotional state. Let him TELL Cas to stay this time, like he should’ve done when Cas walked out the door in 15x03, only for Cas to be unable to comply, because this is all to teach Dean a lesson that this is where his anger gets him, and what he needs to do to save Cas is let that anger go, stop thinking Jack is expendable, and find a better way.

I mean, this is speculation, guys. This is hoping and wishing all over this narrative. But glory effing be if it’s anywhere in the ballpark.

It would be mind-blowing if there was a God intervention of some sort, a talking down off the ledge, as it were, as per end of S11, but I’m not going to hold my breath for *rainbows*…

I’ll hold it for balance, though. :)

Cas has waited for Dean for a long time. Dean being dismissive of Cas in 15x15 can, once again— because whenever he acts like a dick it comes back to bite him on the ass (there’s a visual for you)— be looked at as part of the tapestry that makes Cas feel there’s nothing more for him but being a father to Jack. 

Dean did nothing but instill this feeling in Cas after Cas came back from the black hole that is the Empty in S13, Dean being all “You were brought back because we needed you”—Dean saying zero things about how he was basically ripping apart at the seams from the grief of losing Cas just hours before Cas made that phone call. 

And of course not. Why would Dean admit that? Even to himself, once Cas was back. 

He wouldn’t! 

Ignoring how he really feels about stuff and taking Cas for granted is kinda what he does, so back to normal it all went. So normal and so leveled out that something had to happen, right? Because, in Dean’s mind, good things don’t last.

And then Mary happened.

Oh, my heart!

And Dean went off and cried, by himself, because he still couldn’t show emotion that openly, even to the people closest to him. But he went down on his knees and he cried in Cas’ ear during that prayer, and that really was something.

That said, Mary’s death was Dean proven right once again, and this person, who is the source of faith and hope and that budding belief that maybe, this time, everything was going to actually get better and stay that way, became the target of Dean’s anger over the injustice of it all. Because Cas was the root of it. He’s always been the root of Dean’s slow-to-grow hope that could bloom into belief and trust, if he just dared let it, that he deserves to be happy.

I wrote in an ask reply that I doubt we’ll get human!Cas, but then I remembered that Cas is still status quo-ing it. It’s why he almost left the bunker without telling anyone again, that choice of skedaddling without checking in getting interrupted by Dean, and Cas being brought into a situation where he had to divulge the information, not only that he was leaving and might not make it back (Dean’s face though!), but that Jack is going through a trial that will ultimately destroy him, which was a nice shift in this dynamic of theirs.

Now, look it, the writers may end Cas’ journey on him status quo-ing it... but for the Empty. 

And I would shrug at the Empty and think, well, maybe that won’t come into play... but for the fact that the deal was brought up just a few episodes back. 

So. Happiness.  

Somehow something will need to push Cas toward a moment of happiness. And letting himself be happy is such a climactic moment for his entire journey—and look at how it perfectly mirrors what Dean is being pushed toward—that I find it difficult to see how that moment would bring an eternity in the Empty.

But I’ve written a lot of words on why I just can’t make sense of why they would choose to kill him or have his moment of happiness be tied to a narrative punishment so I’m not getting into all that again, but because both Dean and Cas are being pushed toward happiness, I’m curious to see which route the writers have chosen to take with it.

It would be thrilling and satisfying in equal measure if we finally get Dean crying over Cas, and only Cas. No filter of Bobby or Mary to take away focus and allow for an argument that he’s not actually grieving Cas. 

It would be thrilling and satisfying for it to be very baseline Just Cas. As it has been just Cas this entire season. Cas at the center of Dean’s anger. Cas at the center of Dean’s push toward healing. Cas having had enough, drawing a line—the one that is still there, at his feet—and doing what he’s always done best: calling Dean out on his bullshit behaviour. Cas making Dean put words to his anger, express forgiveness and say that he’s sorry and all within the same moment to boot.

What all this will amount to, we’ll have to wait and see. 

In a few weeks. Or next week. Or maybe there will be strong indicators where the pendulum is actually swinging in 15x17!

Holy. Hell.

But I can’t see it ending somewhere tragic. If it does, it does. And it will be what it will be. And I’ll mourn a little, and accept it and move on. But I do believe it will end somewhere hopeful. Somewhere that leaves things quite tied up, but also open to interpretation, so that we can pick and choose who ends up where and how these men decide to continue on their journeys, now that this enormous leg of their progression is done, and they’ve learned to put the past to rest.

And if S11 is anything to go by, then the echoes of that ending would be a powerful way to tie everything up, as S11 was meant to be the end of the road, until Andrew Dabb picked up the reins with an idea of how to continue the show for a few more seasons. Or so I’ve heard.

11x23 also gave us the most gloriously frustrating exchange ever written for two characters in a car. Omg. Dean we-ing the absolute hell out of his speech when it was him, he was the one, the entire time Cas was possessed by Lucifer, who insisted they make sure Cas came back unscathed. “You’re the best friend we ever had” my ass, Dean! 

I wanted to talk about Dean and Sam as well, but there’s too little time at the moment for me to write more. And it’s painful, but I have to concede or hit a wall and hitting walls fucken hurts. 

I will mention that Sam telling Dean off at the end of 15x16 still gives me goosebumps just thinking about it.

Finally, Sam. Finally.

As ever, sprinklings of salt all over this meta and speculation, my dearlings, but omfg it’s beautiful.

Right then. I’m off to watch 15x17! Wish me luck! *gah!*

[monicawoe]

spn fic masterlist

(updated 5/29/21)

I’ve written over 100 spn fics (ranging from ficlets to 70k big-bangs). Most of them are Sam-centric, largely featuring powers!Sam. The whole collection can be found here on AO3

newest fics:

Between Hell and the Hunt - Dean's deal is due, but Sam has found a way to save him. He's made a deal with someone else - someone Lilith can't touch. (2k words, Wild Hunt season 3 AU)

Closer Than You Think - Five times Sam’s eyes were demonic, and one time they weren’t. (3k words, boyKingSam AUs of multiple eps)

Behold the Beast, Behold the Lamb - Season 4 AU.  Sam tried to free Dean from Hell, but angels intervened and took Dean for their own purposes. Sam is determined to get Dean back and will do whatever it takes, embracing his abilities fully. The more demon blood Sam drinks, the more demons he kills, the more he changes inside and out until it’s impossible to hide his monstrous side. Ruby, Uriel and Castiel push Sam to fulfill his destiny and become his true self—the Beast of the Revelation. (gen, Sam/Ruby, 20k words; featuring art by @quickreaver​)

Prayers Answered - written for the boy king Sam discord server prompt: Sam has grown up in a very religious environment. He's devoted, he goes to church, he prays. He knows that God is with him, because he listens to his prayers. But as Sam grows older, he realizes it's not God that's been listening. And he realizes that he's not asking - he's been ordering, and his loyal servants would never deny their King. (2k words; gen)

Sin Eater - Sam has a different plan to cure demon Dean, but Dean doesn't want to be cured. (Sam drinking blood from demon!Dean, written for @quickreaver​ for her artwork Bitumen Kiss)

On His Head a Crown - written for the 2019-2020 SWBB, art by @slytherkins​ Hunters drug Sam, force-feed him demon blood, and bring him to where they’ve captured Brady. Brady tells Sam he knows how to stop the Apocalypse, and Sam, despite his better judgment, hears him out: Sam himself is the horsemen Conquest—aka the Antichrist—and he alone can bring Lucifer’s apocalypse to a grinding halt. Sam resists, but when he discovers the good he can do with his new powers, he decides to use them to atone for all his past mistakes.   (21k, Sam/Brady, gen, AU of 5x03-5x04)

Many more under the cut

Best Self - written for @alyndra9​​  for the prompt: King of Hell Sam meets Kale!Sam and they have many differences of opinion to work out. (aka the only one who knows what Sam really wants is Sam.) words by monicawoe banner by @quickreaver​​! (~4k words, Sam/Sam)

All You Have Is Your Fire - written for @quickreaver​ for the 2020 Supernatural Spring Fling Dean has known fire all his life. Sometimes it sounds like his brother. (~2k words; gen)

Tear You Apart - written for @wetsammywinchester​ who wanted Soulless!Sam/Brady & Soulless!Sam taking on the mantle of King of Hell:  Sam doesn’t want his soul back. He resurrects Brady who helps him figure out a way to outsmart Death: by damaging his soul so it can’t be reintegrated. With Brady’s help, Sam reclaims his power, and takes his soul apart one piece at a time. (8k words; Soulless!Sam/Brady)

Hellbound - Sam is in Hell, and then he isn't. He's standing on a sidewalk with a stranger looking back at him—a stranger that has his face. My 2020 spn-summergen fic! Featuring soulless!Sam, disembodied soul-Sam and amnesiac Dean. (gen, 8k)

Lakeside Fishing - written for @denugis​ - After defeating Famine, after days of suffering through demon blood withdrawal in the panic room, Sam needs time to clear his head. Early in the morning, he heads to a small lake seeking solitude, but instead finds an unexpected ally. (4k words; Sam/Patrick; set after My Bloody Valentine; witch!Sam)

His Soul to Keep - art by @sketchydean​​ - written for the SPN Eldritch Bang horror event - Dean’s deal is coming due soon. When he finds out from Ruby that Hell will turn him into a demon, he refuses to accept it, even though he can already feel pieces of his soul starting to crumble away. Sam is his only anchor to the world, and Dean finds it harder and harder to leave his side.    After Broward County, after watching Dean die a thousand deaths, Sam decides he’s not going to let Dean go to Hell. He’ll do whatever it takes, even if that means allying himself with Ruby and using the darkness inside of him. Sam casts a soul-binding spell on Dean; they might not be able to break the deal, but they can change who Dean’s soul belongs to. (13k, Sam/Dean, hard-gen, AU of season 3))

Last Drop - art by @quickreaver​ -written for the Twisted Tropes event - Sam/Brady AU set while Sam’s at Stanford:  Sam is slowly adjusting to his new life at Stanford University. He’s left his life of hunting behind, and traded it for endless studying and tests, but he’s plagued by dreams of Dean and Dad in danger, dreams of blood and violence. Then he meets Tyson Brady, who’s always there with a smile and a cup of coffee to get Sam through all-nighters. Sam’s dreams start to fade, but just as he’s getting used to a nice normal life, he starts to develop abilities—powers he can’t control. Brady thinks they’re great, but Sam knows power never comes without a cost. (14k, Sam/Brady)

Make Angels of Us All - art by @amberdreams1960​  - Sam has a guardian angel. It’s been with him his whole life, trying to keep him safe. The angel gives Sam power he can’t control: power to move things with his mind, power over fire, and wings that nobody else can see—bony and jagged with scaly feathers. Dean says monsters aren't real, but Dad thinks they are. Sam's power scares him, and he’s not always sure what's real, but what he does know is people keep trying to kill the three of them, and he won't let that happen. (~20K, gen)

Burdens, Doublefold - cowritten with @quickreaver​, art by ileliberte What if Dean left Sam at Stanford after the fire, hoping it would keep his little brother safe and make things better? Somehow, 'better' never seems to be in the Winchester Family cards. Sam gets tangled up with his ex-roommate Brady, tracking psychics, but dealing with demons is never honest business. Dean carries on until his father is put in grave danger. He is left on his own to deal, stumbling into Harvelle's Roadhouse for help, where Dean gets just a little more than he bargained for. Eventually, the brothers’ paths twist and turn their way back to each other, but the results could mean the End of Days. (67k, gen, AU of seasons 1-2)

Before the One You Serve When Dean comes to get Sam at Stanford, he finds him living with Brady. And Dean doesn't trust Brady, even though he can't quite put his finger on why. Not at first. (5k, Sam/Brady)

He Who Fights Monsters - cowritten with nwspaprtaxis, art by @quickreaver​ AU of the summer between Seasons 3 and 4. Dean's dead, dragged down kicking and screaming to Hell. Sam's not dealing well. And Ruby’s got her work cut out for her. (52K, Sam/Ruby)

John Winchester is Dead They say those Winchester boys're crazy. Drive around in a big black beast and drink too much and laugh about mean things. They say their daddy's worse, but you never see him. He's just a voice on the other end of the phone or a darker shape in the back seat of their dark car. They say John Winchester died two years ago. (2k, gen, horror)

Breathing, Talking, Dead Man Walking   -  John Doe, male, approximately thirty-seven years old. Subject was found by EMTs in close proximity to the site of a sizable explosion in Lebanon, Kansas. (2k, gen, Sam & Dean)

Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea - featuring art by @quickreaver​ When Sam opened Lucifer’s Cage, the only thing he found inside was Lucifer’s grace – his grace. With the return of his grace, Sam remembered his past – his war against the Host, his Fall, and his plans to bring about the End. The thing is…he doesn’t want the Apocalypse anymore. He likes things the way they are, and tries everything to keep his identity a secret- especially from Dean. Of course, the four Horsemen, Hell and Heaven have other ideas. (13K, gen)

The Last Days in the Land of Nod - comic adaptation by @quickreaver​ The year is 2014. The Devil is wearing his finest, the Angel is human, and the Brother protects the survivors at Camp Chitaqua.

The Two Ravens - art by @quickreaver​ Your brother he is, and heir to my throne. He’ll feed on the damned and he'll turn them to bone. (4k; fairy-tale)

Counteroffer About two weeks after Sam gutted a hellhound, completing the first trial, he started acting weird. (5k, psychological horror, gore)

Pattern Recognition: A Hannibal/Supernatural fusion AU  -  Sam and Dean split after River Pass, and their confrontation with the Horseman, War. Since Will’s escape from the Baltimore Institute for the Criminally Insane, he and Sam have been in hiding. They have a cabin, in the middle of nowhere, that keeps them off the radar; they find comfort in each other. But they can’t stay off the chessboard forever, especially not when Lucifer, wearing Hannibal Lecter as a vessel, is tearing the world apart around them. (33k, Sam Winchester/Will Graham)

Impala's Run - cowritten with @quickreaver, art by adrenalineshots Sam and Dean Singer (aka Winchester) aren’t your average young Kansas farmers. Their home is very, very far from Kansas, in fact. Many light-years worth of ‘far’. The boys may look human, but certain talents set them apart: Dean speaks the language of machines, and Sam can heal through manipulating energy. Hidden on Earth by their father, their agricultural lifestyle gets rocked when warring alien races discover where they’ve landed, and Sam and Dean are forced to make the run of their lives. (23k, gen)

All Our Wrath and Cutting Beauty - art by @quickreaver - Sam killed Alistair, but not before Alistair reminded Dean of who and what he’d become in Hell. Dean knows Sam can take down Lilith, and he’ll make damn sure Sam gets strong enough to do just that. They’ll stop the Apocalypse – together, no matter how many bodies stack up, or how much blood is spilt.(11k, horror) 

Diary of a Madman -Lydia’s newest patient, Sam Winchester, suffered from hallucinations, delusions, and regular bouts of insomnia. He also thought he was Lucifer. (4k, gen, horror)

Some other bundled links, for your convenience

Demon-blood Sam

King of Hell Sam

Powers!Sam

Horror

Crossovers & Fusion ‘verses

Hannibal|SPN

SPN/Preacher

SPN/Hannibal/MCU

[thecleverdame]

The Oath - 2

Parings: Dark!Alpha!Sam x Omega!Reader

Masterlist

Due to content, this story will have a separate tags list. Please sign up here

Summary: After an unsuccessful escape attempt, the reader finds herself taken as a spoil of war. She ends up in the bed of a ruthless Alpha, the son of John Winchester, leader of the kingdom of Gilead. She struggles to conceal her true identity and navigate a society where being an Omega means nothing more than serving at the pleasure of powerful men.

Warnings: non-con, sexual assault, rape, attempted suicide, sexual slavery, branding, torture, ownership, voyeurism, anal play, smut, violence, and murder.

Sam is dark in this story. If any of the warnings are triggers for you, I would suggest skipping this one. Please read and heed all the warnings.

Beta: ilikaicalie

Chapters 1-9 are currently available on Patreon.  To get access to this and many other stories, subscribe for a pledge of 2.50 per month. CLICK HERE

-

TWO

“What’s this?” Sam asks. 

He could smell you from the moment his brother dragged you into their tent. Your Omega is masked by something but it’s there and it’s unmistakable. 

“An Omega the men were about to ruin.” Your captor lets you go and you stand there, eyes finding a rock on the dirt floor and staring at it. 

Two Alphas. This is not what you hoped. But maybe you can still make it out alive. 

You’re a squirmy little thing, and it’s hard to get a good look at you. At first glance, it would be easy to dismiss you as just another desperate Omega trying to get away. In Sam’s experience, your kind rarely embraces your place in the natural order of things. Yes, it would be easy to overlook you, but Sam pays attention to details. He can see past your stringy hair and tear-stained face, your bloodied knees, and dirty breasts. He’s willing to bet you’re really something to see when you’re not a snot covered mess. 

The scent coming from between your legs is thick like honeysuckles in the summer, you’re still sweet. On the verge of being broken but holding yourself together. 

Dean looks unhappy and Sam waits for what’s to follow. 

“As much as I’d love to stay and play with her, I have to ride the outer camps. If one of us doesn’t do the rounds the men start thinking they’re above the rules. We need to do something. They can’t be trusted, they didn’t even check before they started on her.” Dean pushes you forward and you nearly fall over. “She’s yours, for now at least. Unless you want to take a ride...”

“It’s your turn to go.” Sam looks to Dean for the first time. 

Dean shrugs, snorting as he shakes his head. “Better you than me. She’s a fucking mess.”

“Leave her to me.” Sam watches you with interest, your eyes bulging wide with uncertainty. Dean grabs his saddlebags and heads out. 

Moments later you’re alone with this new Alpha who’s circling you slowly, examining every inch of your battered skin. He moves as a predator, a wolf stalking its prey with slow, deliberate steps. 

“Did they fuck you?” he asks. 

“N-no,” you stammer, awash with both shame and paralyzing fear. 

“But they did touch you?” He stops directly in front of you, looking at your breasts, then to the patch of hair between your legs. 

“Yes. They touched me.” You don't know if you should look at him. Everything is a calculated choice. These sorts of men are volatile, he may not think you’re worthy to make eye contact. Further punishment is the last thing you can withstand, so you keep your eyes on the floor. 

“I’ll deal with them in the morning.” He tilts his head, wiping off his hands with a cloth before tossing it on the table. “Do you know who I am?”

“No,” you whisper, a tear rolling down your cheek. You don’t want to know. 

“Samuel. The son of John Winchester,” he explains. You think you may vomit. Samuel Winchester. Of all the cruel twists of fate, this has to be one of the most merciless. You’ve heard of him, you can’t recall the specifics but you know his general reputation; brutal and sadistic.  “The man who brought you here was my brother, Dean.” He pauses and you say nothing. “You lived in Hayward Village?”

“Yes,” you nod, sneaking a peek. He’s a beast of a man. All you can do now is pray he doesn’t kill you, or do irreparable damage. 

“I need you to understand you’re never going back there,” he explains calmly. 

Hayward never felt like your home. It was a place to hide, to fade into the background. But hearing him say that makes this all too real. You will never be the same again. 

“I understand,” you confirm. 

“The rest of your life will be very different. You’re the property of Gilead now. You belong to me. Do you understand?”

It’s clear you don’t like that declaration of ownership. Your eyes snap up to his, swallowing hard. It’s always difficult for Omegas to truly understand this new world order. It’s best to be up front. False hope only creates desperation. He doesn’t need you trying to run in the middle of the night. 

He looks on with interest, the way you swallow your emotions, holding them back at all costs. In his experience not many women would be able to express such self control under these circumstances. You’re strong, whether you know it or not.

“I understand,” you agree quietly, unsuccessfully covering the tremor in your voice. “M-may I ask what I should call you?”

“Alpha,” Sam explains. “In Lebanon Omegas don’t use the names of their Alphas. It breeds familiarity and that can be a dangerous thing.” 

You shift and squeal in pain, cradling your arm. Fresh tears fall. You’re in agony and he can’t have that. He needs you in working order. 

“What’s wrong with your arm?” Inching closer he tries to get a better look. 

“I-I think i-it’s broken,” you sputter.  

“One of the men did this?” His eyes narrow, displeased by the news. “Intentionally?” 

The fucking men have been on his last nerve for weeks and now this. They think themselves equal. Deserving of such riches that they would cross this of all lines. It makes his blood boil. 

“He threw me down from the horse. I don’t think he meant to hurt me.” You’re shaking, entire body rattling in cold and in pain. 

“He should have been more careful. An Omega requires special handling. Come here, let me see it.” He sits down in a chair, his expression unflinching as he waits for you to move closer. “Move your hand so I can see the damage.”

You let go of your arm and howl as the bones shift, but he takes your elbow and wrist, holding them in a manner that offers the first relief you’ve felt in hours. It makes sense, he’s a soldier. He knows how to treat wounds on the battlefield. He’s seen a thousand broken bones worse than this. 

“Here.” He carefully tightens his grip on your elbow, sliding his hand along your forearm until he’s holding it in place. He changes the position and you think you might vomit, the pain is so great. It’s making you sweat and squirm as he feels where the bone has snapped. “This is going to hurt.” 

Before his words register, he pulls on your wrist and elbow at the same time, realigning the bone as the two pieces snap back into place with a sickening crack. 

You scream, trying to pull back but he grabs you by the hair to keep you from retreating. 

“You’ll be fine, calm down,” he orders. He doesn’t exactly care, but seeing a woman in pain doesn’t bring him pleasure like many of his men. In fact, it’s always made him uncomfortable.“I’ll find something to hold your arm in place. Sit down and don’t move.”

He points to the chair and you lower yourself into it, cradling your newly set arm, watching as he looks in trunks and sacks. Finding long, flat pieces of wood he kneels in front of you, and using a thin rope and cloth he secures the wood around your arm until it’s completely immobile. 

“What’s your name?” he asks. 

Your mind races. You need to give him something, anything but your real name. The hours in the forest come back to you. The wild things all around you, as you search for any name to give him. You blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. 

“Sparrow,” you sniffle, wiping tears from your cheek. 

“Sparrow,” he repeats, looking up at you. “A fitting name given your broken wing.” One massive hand grips your knee and you jerk in surprise, looking him in the eyes. You almost forgot you were naked. “Do you know what’s expected of Omegas in my country?”

“I’ve heard stories but...no,” you answer honestly, looking at him as your heart breaks. You’ll never see your family again. Not that your father would ever take you back after this. There’s no coming back from being with a Winchester. If he did nothing more than talk to you, it would be a permanent black mark. 

And if Sam knew who you were he’d kill you on the spot. You’re damned any way you look at it. 

“You belong to us. The sooner you accept this, the easier things will be. You’re lucky, most of your village was killed. A half dozen were taken as servants. And you are the lone prize. The only thing worth the effort of that Godforsaken place.” Lucky. It’s a strange way to describe being driven from your home and nearly raped by a group of disgusting men. “Depending on how well you perform, you’ll be offered as a prize to a high ranking Alpha. Or perhaps you’re bound for greater things.”

Sam’s words are unmistakable. There’s a hunger in his eyes as he looks from your breasts down to the patch of hair between your thighs. One could find him handsome in other circumstances, but right now he’s simply terrifying. He’s large enough that he could easily take anything he wanted from you. His eyes burning with an intensity you can practically feel. 

“I understand,” you whisper. “I’ll do my best.”

“You stink. I’ll have someone clean you up.” He stands, arms folded across his chest. “Then we’ll have a good look at you.”

-

The tent doesn’t feel like a temporary shelter set in the middle of a makeshift camp. There are clothes and weapons everywhere as if the two brothers have been here for months. Carefully marked maps are spread across a long wooden table. There are markers in the form of little metal horses across it. It’s a miniature version of the war raging on around them. There’s a treasure trove of valuable information here if you could get it to someone, but it’s a fool's errand. This is where your journey ends, you can feel it in your bones. 

The only available woman in the camp is a gray-haired cook who bathes you while Sam watches from the corner of the room. The light of the fire licks across his face, his eyes never faltering as the old woman washes your hair and helps you scrub until the mud and grime are gone. 

The cook helps you bathe and leaves in a rush, never looking up. She’s more terrified of him than you are, a fact that doesn’t escape you. 

Sam was right, you’re beautiful underneath it all. Healthy Omegas have a glow about them, not that he’s seen a healthy one in years, but he remembers. Yours is faint but there’s a glimmer to you, like an aura emanating from your body. You’re holding your arm, with eyes trained on the floor but your head is held high, back straight despite the oppression of the situation. It’s that inner strength that fascinates him. You may be compliant or you might try to stab him in the middle of the night. There’s only one way to know for sure. 

“May I have something to drink?” you ask, naked and dripping in front of the fire. 

“Yes. What would you like?” He’s on his feet again, slinking closer with the stealth of cat “Wine? Water?”

“Tea. I’m very cold. Something to warm me up would be appreciated.”

He takes herbs from a pouch, grinding them into the bottom of a mug before adding hot water. Then he sits across the table watching you sip. 

“You’re beautiful,” he asserts and your breath catches, fear churning. “And unclaimed. How is it that an Omega like you hasn’t been claimed already?”

The truth is that your father kept you under lock and key. And when he was forced to send you away, he picked the one place you’d be the least likely to cross paths with an Alpha. 

“There were no Alphas in my village.” You explain the question away praying that's the end of it.  A tingling sensation is blooming to life in your belly, dulling your senses. “What is in this tea?”

“Herbs to help with the pain. I broke a rib last year, it’s the only thing that brought relief.” His eyes drop to your tits, licking his lower lip. “We’re lucky my brother had to leave. You wouldn’t have lasted an hour. He would have knotted you the moment he realized how pristine you are.”

Your cheeks flush hot as you fight off tears. While you overheard crude talk in the village, it’s rare that any man has ever spoken so frankly to, or about you in such a way. 

“Have you been with a man before?” You hesitate and he rolls his eyes. “I expect honest answers.”

“Yes,” you admit, feeling shame wash over you. At least he doesn’t know who you are, it would only serve to exacerbate your sins. A woman of your standing should be a chaste virgin, untouched by any man until her husband. But as a country girl from a small village its less of a transgression. Either way you think about it, the admission makes you feel like a whore. 

“How many?” he asks. 

Jesus, you’re not sure you can stand much more of this intimate questioning. 

“Two.” 

“Interesting.” A smile pulls at the corner of his mouth, entertained by the confession. “Have you taken a knot?”

Your whole body goes tense, a fact that doesn’t escape him. You’re scared but with fear comes compliance. He’s good at reading people, maybe he won’t have to worry about you trying to slit his throat.

“No,” you whisper, barely audible. “I’ve never been with an Alpha.”

“Good.” His fingers strum the table. “I’ll be your first then.”

There, now it’s a sure thing. No more guessing. He plans to have you for himself, at least tonight. While he’s nowhere near the nightmare of men that had you envisioned earlier, there’s a darkness in him that’s simmering right there for anyone to see and it scares the daylights out of you. 

“Will you open your legs for me?” he asks evenly. “Or will I have to have to show you who’s in charge?”

“Please don’t,” you beseech, looking to him in desperation. 

“You don’t get that choice,” he counters, unhappy with any pushback. 

“I’m just in so much pain.” Your voice is shaking, hand curled into a fist at your side. “I haven’t slept in days. If you would wait until morning, I’ll do anything you want. I’ll give myself to you freely. I just...I’m not sure how much more I can take tonight. I’m so exhausted I can barely stay upright.”

He’s silent, contemplating your request. The men found you in the forest. You probably are exhausted. You could also be exaggerating, trying to buy yourself a little time before he fucks you. And yet he’s inclined to believe you. He can read the exhaustion on your face like the war maps on the table. 

“How long were you in the forest?” he asks. 

“Two days.” 

“With no shoes and no cloak?”

“There was no time. When the men attacked my home I ran with what I had on, nothing more.”

“I see.” He sits back, rubbing over the pads of his fingers as he decides what to do. “You should sleep. You’re no good to me broken and delirious. You’ve already been mishandled enough.”

If you were any other Omega he’d have you gag on his cock and make you sleep on the floor next to his bed, but you have this smell about you. That sweet lingering scent he’s never encountered before. He wants to fuck you, see what it feels like to be inside you, to give you his knot. 

“Thank you.” You close your eyes, trying unsuccessfully to hold back the tears that fall. “Thank you.”

“Are you still cold?” he asks gesturing at your bare tits. 

“Yes,” you admit, embarrassed to the point of giving up as your nipples stand out like little pebbles. “I’ve been cold for days.”

“Then come to bed and I’ll warm you.” He gets up, pulling his shirt over his head as he walks to the bed farthest from the fire. He toes off his boots and drops his trousers to the floor, stepping out of them. 

He’s a sight to behold. Long, lean muscle, just as powerful as you suspected. His cock is thick, bobbing just below his stomach. He fists himself, looking to you as you dutifully walk over to the bed, careful of your arm. 

Has he changed his mind? 

“Lay down,” he instructs, waiting as you shimmy under a heavy fur pelt. He pulls a small pillow from somewhere under the bed and places it beside you. “Turn on your side and rest your arm here.”

You do as he instructs, watching him with a wary eye as you settle into the bed. 

Sam climbs in behind you, pressing hot, naked skin against your back, letting his erection poke at your buttocks. 

“How is your arm?” he inquires as his mouth connects with your shoulder, open lips dragging over skin. Can this be happening? You jump as his teeth scrape over the back of your neck, praying that he’ll be true to his word and allow you time to recuperate. 

“It’s not as painful as it was,” you admit, feeling your eyes fall heavy. Exhaustion trumps all. “The tea helped.”

“Good. Go to sleep, little bird. The next few weeks will be difficult ones for many reasons. You should rest when you can.” 

His warning sends a thousand thoughts spiraling. A thick arm lays over your hip and you close your eyes as sleep overtakes you. For the first time in nearly three days, you’re allowed to rest. 

[theexecutionerssong]

Hey Gaëlle ! Est-ce-que tu aurais des recommendations de fic Destiel ? Sans trop de smut, surtout pas beta/Omega (c'est même plus du smut à ce niveau-là...) et beaucoup de pining ? ( Je devrai être en train de réviser mes partiels d'ailleurs... 😅). Merci beaucoup ! 😌

Hellooo ! Alors tu as frappé à la bonne porte parce que je lis jamais de smut, ou alors quand c’est dans des longues fics, je passe juste ces passages là. (mais j’aime beaucoup les fic a/b/o qui ont pas de smut, parce que les sentiments sont quintuplés donc pining + angst on a whole other level). Y’a peu de fluff dans mes fics préférées, love me some angsty life and death moments, mais ça finit toujours bien. Enfin. Vérifie les tags quand même :)))) J’ai mis les liens, si y’a pas c’est qu’elles ont été supprimées mais j’ai les pdf donc hit me up.Et révise tes partiels !!!!

CANON

A turn of the earth -https://archiveofourown.org/works/5138552/chapters/11825306

Dean’s your typical half-orphaned, monster-killing 22-year-old until a trenchcoated stranger crashes into his back windshield one September night, claiming he’s an angel that knows him from the future and that he’s on the run.

Frigging fantastic.

(Or, in which Castiel gets stuck in Dean’s timeline preseries and Dean kind of hates it—until he doesn’t.)

Probably my favorite fic set in Canon. It’s set around season 11, and I love how we dive into Dean’s past pre-series and then as time goes by, we catch up with the show timeline’s. It’s incredibly well written.

525,600 Minutes - https://archiveofourown.org/works/507228/chapters/892693

A man wakes up alone on the streets of Detroit. Lost and somehow forgotten, he's dressed in blood-soaked clothing without memories and without a name.

This is his journey to find it.

It was first published in 2012 set after s5, but it was rewritten last year. I still have the old version for nostalgia’s sake but the new version is even better. It’s got some amnesia so great for pining :))))

The inexhaustible silence of houses -https://archiveofourown.org/works/560268/chapters/1000755

Almost two years after the world doesn't end, Castiel falls from grace—and loses his voice in the process. It is the impetus for confession and change; before long, he is settling into a loving relationship with Dean, the Winchesters are tired, and hunting for a place to land has taken precedence to hunting anything else. Dean and Castiel fall in love with the strange little house on the end of Swallowtail Drive, and for a little while life is as it should be—sweet, affectionate, and beginning afresh.

But more and more Castiel sees and hears things in the house that beg the question of whether or not a place itself can be alive. The walls and rooms seem to shift and grow and breathe, and one night, Dean comes home from a hunt changed in a way that Castiel cannot explain. In the months that follow, their domestic bliss takes turns for the dark and sour, and the confusion of their circumstances will ultimately test everything Castiel knows about the man he loves, and everything he believes to be true.

Listen, I cried. I cried SO MUCH. There was a lil fandom war going on for a time between which was the hardest, this one or Twist and Shout, and both destroy me completely. But this one is set in canon and closer to the characters, to me, so I’ll always recommend this one first (unless you want a happy ending, in which case, don’t read it)

Only if for a night - https://archiveofourown.org/works/826303

Castiel is captured by a djinn. Dean goes slightly crazy, and Cas discovers a thing or two about himself.

I’m a sucker for Dean/Cas in Djinn verse and this one is by far my favorite.

The Bird That Feels The Light (not slash) https://archiveofourown.org/works/210860

AU from 5.18 (or thereabouts). Castiel awakens in the middle of a smoking crater, stranded and very much human. According to the people who have discovered him, it’s six months to the day after Michael and Lucifer faced off on the field of battle outside of Detroit, and Castiel isn’t the only one to have returned. When, at his insistence, they take him to this other person, he finds a child –a little boy– and realizes that, contrary to all his expectations, he has been reunited with Dean Winchester. The world has changed in their absence, and not for the better. Sam is gone, whether dead or simply missing is uncertain. Castiel is given the name of a man in Idaho who may have answers for him. He is faced with the task of travelling cross-country with Dean, who is dependent on him now in ways he never was before, in order to discover the truth. But along the way, as he and Dean learn to know and trust each other once more, Castiel begins to realize that the answers he thought he wanted might not be the ones he needs.

It’s not slash at all since Dean is a kid but I’ve read it probably about 20 times and I still love it as the first time. There’s just something about human Castiel carrying a 4 year old Dean across the world and fighting monsters and demons and humans to survive that gets to me.

Hands, From Which All Things Are Built - https://archiveofourown.org/works/747324

Castiel travels with the angel tablet and without the Winchesters. One day, Dean gets a text from some anonymous number. (They speak in the language of need.) A post-08.17 Goodbye, Stranger story.

If you want pining, this one is definitely for you.

Last Man Standing - https://www.fanfiction.net/s/8363328/1/Last-Man-Standing

This one is set just after the season 7 finale, it’s a Purgatory fic with so.much.pining I always need to hold a pillow to my chest when I read it or I go insane sdfghjkl I haven’t read it in probably 4 years but I remember absolutely loving it.

Outrun my gun - https://archiveofourown.org/works/281887/chapters/448388

"The two of you are so stubborn you've made Heaven blink." Finally convinced that Sam and Dean will never say yes and accept their destinies, Heaven and Hell come up with a new plan, one that will redraw the Apocalypse and make everything run much more smoothly. All they need is Dean Winchester's soul.

Don’t mind the MCD tag, it’s got a happy ending. Also a classic set in canon, it’s from 2011 so quite oldish but it’s incredible how the characterization is on point. Love love love it.

AU

Tramps Like Us

Dean Winchester's life is falling apart. He's lost his job, his apartment, and his brother, all in one day. He seems to break everything he touches. Frustrated and alone, he drives off into the night with no idea where he's headed. But then he meets Castiel Novak, a quiet and reclusive man with a haunted past, and suddenly he finds himself with a very specific destination in mind.

I feel like everyone has read Tramps Like Us but just in case, I’ll put it on the list. Not sure what I can say that hasn’t been said by half this website already but well… it deserves the hype.

Til The Last - https://archiveofourown.org/works/1001935/chapters/1984189

When the war came, Dean Winchester was determined that he was not going to get involved. He had more important things to worry about than some rich man’s fight. He had work on the farm and he had taking care of his family. Nothing else was worth his worry. But in August in the Year of Our Lord 1863, when the soldiers came knocking, they weren’t asking. They dragged Dean away. 

Dean and Cas have been best friends since they were kids. When Dean is drafted into the Confederate army, to what lengths will Castiel go to ensure that Dean makes it back home alive?

OH BOY. OHHHHH I could talk about that one until the day I die. It’s a complete AU but it has great parallels to canon, it’s incredibly well written, humanity in all it’s ugly truth and “I will fight for you ‘til the last, Dean Winchester” jesus christ it’s so good, so good

Out of the Deep - https://archiveofourown.org/works/548878

Stay away from the light-beds. Stay in the deep.

It is the first thing hatchlings are taught the moment their fans unfurl and they can swim without their parents to buoy them along. It is the first rule, the first law. It is the beginning of every boogey-monster bedtime story told when they settle against the cliffs to sleep.

Castiel should have listened better.

I love everything she writes but I think this one if my favorite. It’s sooooo long, and angsty as fuck but all ends well and it has some very fluffy moments. If you’re into this kinf of AU then 100% go for it.

To Raise a King - https://archiveofourown.org/works/1961403

This must be some kind of horrible joke at Castiel’s expense. Is he truly expected to protect a King? One who has been their enemy for as long as he can remember? He is much more suited to being a part of the army, or at the very least someone who helps to train the knights. That would be far more preferred than having to watch over the King. It means Castiel would get to keep fighting – and that’s the only way he knows to give meaning to his life.

An AU too, Cas is tasked to watch over Sam and Dean -there’s an 8 year age difference between Dean and Cas. I loved it because it’s set over about 15 years and Cas is asexual and I love time period AU in general :’)

Painted Angels https://archiveofourown.org/works/1085792

Author Castiel Novak has finally hit the big time, with a book based on his failed college relationship with a brilliant painter. He's put all his pain behind him, but at a book signing, he comes face to face with Dean Winchester for the first time in twelve years, and the reunion doesn't go like Cas hoped. Dean's a broken man, with a lot of scars and secrets, shoulders weighed down by his demons and self loathing. Cas sees a second chance with the man he's never stopped loving, but Dean's moved on, and is about to get married. Sam launches a "brilliant" plan to reunite his brother and his best friend, but Cas is worried it will all blow up in their faces, and he'll go through the agony of losing Dean a second time.

This one is hard to read because for the most part, it’s heartbreaking. There are happy flashbacks all along but it’s still hard when what happens in the present it’s a fucking tragedy. But I would still read it a thousand times over, and the timestamp completely make up for all the pining and the angst. It’s rare to find fics that last an entire lifetime.

[stusbunker]

The Stuff of Souls

For Better or Worst: Chapter Twelve

Featuring: Sam x Emery Simmons-Winchester (OFC)

Other Characters: Castiel, Naomi, Dumah, Jack, Bandit (OC)

Season 14 AU

Word Count: 2797

Summary: Cas goes home. Sam walks into the meat of the deal.

Warnings: Show level violence, death of a child, grief, guilt.

Special thanks to MJ @thoughtslikeaminefield​ for looking this over, I hope where it ended up is up to your standards, m’lady.

Series Masterlist

^*^*^

               There was no guard, no alarm, not a soul or angel in sight, and yet Castiel worried over a potential ambush as he approached the quiet playground. The portal seemed warm, dust metaphorically hovering in the air from recent use. He had no idea if it would accept his presence or continue to deny him access to a place, he once considered his only home. With a signature grimace, Castiel stepped into the sandbox and looked heavenward. It was two minutes of eternity before he felt it, a deep resonance in every atom of his being and suddenly he was transported into a stark white office.

               “Hello, Castiel,” Naomi’s rich voice greeted, though she had just rushed to meet him, she seemed unaffected by his sudden appearance.

               “Naomi,” Cas leaned in, eyes squinting in suspicion.

               “What can I help you with?” She offered, eyes tight and face a forced mask of indifference.

               “I think you know wh---” Cas stopped short as Dumah rushed into the room, dark hair trailing behind her as she raised her voice to her superior.

               “What is he doing here?! You can’t be seriously letting him try to talk you into something,” Dumah spoke as if Castiel were a stray animal, nosing for scraps.

               “Dumah, Castiel just arrived. As you so rudely interrupted us, I have no idea why he is here. Perhaps, first, you would like to explain why you have left your post?” Naomi reprimanded without much force behind her words, an unimpressed teacher.

               Dumah gaped, eyes darting between Castiel and Naomi as she tried to temper the defiance that was threatening her better judgement. “I assume he’s come with his usual unreasonable demands.”

               Castiel finally spoke up for himself, “there is nothing unreasonable about trying to free Sam and Dean from this web of deception you have all constructed for them.”

               Dumah paused, waiting to see just what Castiel had unearthed; she had anticipated him coming to free Lucifer’s spawn, not to avenge the Winchesters. If she wasn’t careful, Naomi would learn of her meddling with Sam’s memories, among other things. Naomi quickly dismissed Dumah with a chilling glare and nod of the head, sending her back the way she came. Back to her duties.

               “The Winchesters, Castiel, have made their deals and now they must lie in them,” Naomi sat back in her desk chair, inspecting Castiel as if measuring his usefulness versus the price he’d earn if sold off. “I can’t expect you to understand the lengths we have had to go to ensure they are each protected from any outside interference. Heaven and Earth depend on the security of this mission, Castiel. This Michael that they have dragged into our world is not the same archangel they locked into Lucifer’s Cage. You know this.”

               Castiel listened, softening to the raw certainty and hinted desperation she must have been working under. “But why take Sam too, Naomi? He is needed doing what he was raised to do.”

               “Sam Winchester would not let his brother go, even if Dean asked him to. Their lives are just one long struggle to keep the other safe. At times, against the greater good. He had to be neutralized, until the issue with Michael could be properly handled,” Naomi reasoned calmly.

               “And what then?” Castiel countered, stepping between the two guest seats to lean over Naomi’s desk.

               “When Dean’s freed from the influence of the foreign archangel, if the rest of their deals remain intact; then they go back to their lives,” Naomi offered, the improbability of the hypothetical obvious.

               “Why does it feel like you don’t expect that outcome?” Castiel tilted his head, eyes boring into Naomi’s faux calm expression.

               “Because it is the Winchesters, Castiel. Nothing goes smoothly when they are involved, voluntarily or not. But we had to step in, given the extremes Michael had gone to--- among other things. I’m just glad we could secure Dean before he lost control again,” Naomi’s tone shifted, vigilance melted in self-congratulations.

               “I want to see Dean--- or Sam,” Cas tried to recover. “I want to make sure they are safe, that they know just what is happening. Tell them what they are missing.”

               “You mean like Jack contacting Lucifer in the Empty?” Naomi countered, standing, eyes unable to contain her rage any longer.

               Cas fell back onto his heels, frozen with shock. “What are you talking about?”

               “How did he do it, Castiel? There has never been a way in, besides, Death. Suddenly, the Nephilim child in your charge can reach that realm without his grace. What exactly have you all been doing in that Bunker in the Winchesters’ absence?” Naomi’s voice carried.

               “What exactly happened? Is Jack alright?” Cas pressed on.

               “Even with our dwindling resources we had to ensure that he couldn’t make that breach again,” Naomi decreed. “Now, if you hadn’t been chasing after Sam and Dean, maybe you could have stopped him from trying to tear apart the barriers between Earth and the black hole of existence.”

               “What do you mean, Naomi, what did you do?” Castiel hesitated at the silent fury on Naomi’s face, cautiously he raised his hands slightly as if in surrender. “I had no idea he would try such a thing.”

               “Your ignorance doesn’t change that it happened. Your negligence, your history, it all just proves that you can’t be trusted. Even now, when we need every angel’s help, I couldn’t go to you. Because you no longer serve Heaven. And as much as you think your loyalty to those hunters is worth it, you still manage to let them down. So, Castiel, now, it seems, you only serve yourself,” Naomi lamented, voice low with disgust.

               Cas turned his face away as he absorbed her vitriol, eyes closed until a shuffling behind him stole his attention from his guilt. Dumah lead Jack into the office in spellworked cuffs with defiant arrogance. She missed none of Naomi’s stifled surprise, even when Castiel brushed passed her like a petulant teenager. The angels of heaven held a mental stalemate as Cas checked on Jack.

               “I’m sorry, I don’t know how it happened,” Jack’s eyes held such shame, as gullible as he was guilty.

               “It’s alright, Jack,” Castiel attempted to placate him, hyper aware of their audience.

               Jack’s face sprang up, confusion lacing through his stare as he tried to find what Castiel wanted. To figure out what Castiel knew, where he had been.

               “You’ve been gone a lot,” he led.

               “Yes, we’ve all tried to keep busy without Sam and Dean,” Castiel clipped, eyes darting between the other angels.

               Dumah sniggered, facing Naomi as she accused them all, “indeed. You all have been VERY busy.”

               “I don’t think this is necessary. Dumah, take Jack back to his cell, until this matter is resolved---" Naomi walked around the desk, attempting to escort them out, until Cas stopped her, face to face.

               “You have him in prison?! For what? Lucifer sought Jack through dimensions, why would the Empty be any different? He has committed no crime.” Castiel pointed to his adopted son with the vehemence of a defense attorney.

               “So?” Naomi challenged. “He is a target. If Lucifer can reach him, what else can his presence inspire? We need to keep Jack safe, Castiel. We need to keep everyone safe.”

               “Yeah, good luck with that,” Dumah muttered, twisting Jack’s wrists harder than necessary.

               Naomi stared into Cas’s eyes. “Enough, Dumah.”

               Surprisingly, Dumah listened. She walked Jack back to the exit.

               “Wait!” Cas attempted to get around Naomi, but she held him back from reaching Jack.

    “Cas, you have to find Dean. He’s down the narrow hallway, after the fork! Find Dean! He’s not safe--” Jack’s pleas cut off as Castiel fell unconscious.

^*^*^

               The melody was bright yet stunted as the notes floated down the stairs. Sam had come home to find that Emery’s summer motivation had migrated down her project list to deep cleaning. How a house with two responsible adults needed that kind of overhaul less than a year from moving in, he didn’t know. But he was grateful she was keeping busy.

               Sam hadn’t found a proper mute to the nervous energy he felt, though work kept him occupied during the week. They hadn’t heard from Cas since he left mid-meal over the weekend. Sam was in a kind of limbo; it was both easy in its routine and stifling in its lack of direction. He listened hard as he climbed the steps, a falsetto pelting along with the music. A very different kind of genre than those he had grown up with had Emery singing and dancing as she organized clothing into piles across the bed top.

               “And when the groove is dead and gone…You know that looooove survives…So we can roooooccck forevvver onnnn,” Emery belted out, eyes closed, shoulders and hips swaying. Sam huffed a short laugh, leaning against the doorframe as he watched her let the bridge build. It wasn’t until she inhaled deeply, that he saw her breath shake in her chest, two subtle tracks of moisture brushed from her face as she turned to grab a drawer full of sweaters. He stepped into the room, instinct driving him to ensure she was alright, even if he didn’t want to know why she was crying. If he was to blame.

               “Hey?” Sam flinched as Emery jumped out of her skin with a short shriek. “Sorry, I just got home and—,” Sam trailed off, Emery folded in on herself, one hand over her stomach and the other over her mouth.

               The scare pushed her over the tightrope she had been walking. “What the fuck?!”

               She groaned in frustration, letting the grief and shock and rage burn through her throat until it heaved Sam onto his heels. The haunting background vocals rose up and filled the space between them, trumpets and rhythm chiming in celebration as Emery rolled her shoulders against the anger of being disturbed, of being found in such a state, as it landed in her stomach, heavy and sour.

               The song transitioned into something slower while Sam stood quietly, mouth pinched, hands on his hips as Emery frantically tried to get back to her chores, to ignore the elephant in the room.

               He cleared his throat, “Emery? You alright?”

               She exhaled and dropped the garments in her hands, shoving them away from her as if their placement would help distance her from her thoughts or agitation. She wiped her hand down her face, attempting to steel herself. It didn’t work; she swallowed thickly and glanced back up at Sam from the tops of her eyes. “Why did you call me a hunter? Do I feel like--- somebody bad, I mean, violent to you?”

               Taken aback, Sam blinked, shaking his head as he tried to keep his face neutral. “The scars?” It was his turn to swallow. “The scars on your arm look an awful like werewolf claws, but they’re small. I just jumped to conclusions I guess.”

               She rubbed the arm in question and nodded, biting her lips as she accepted his thought process. “Right. Well, you’ve got a hell of an eye, Sam Winchester. You certainly know your wounds.”

               Sam sat down on the edge of the bed, “you want to tell me about them?”

               “Not really--- but you showed me yours.” Emery dropped down on the bedside perpendicular to Sam, piles of clothing and rationalized secrecy between them. “It’s only fair I come clean.

               Well, shit, um,” Emery stammered, clamping her eyes shut to focus her thoughts away from Sam’s guarded yet attentive face. “I had a son, Georgie. He would have been thirteen this past April.”

               “Emery, wow, I’m sorry--- when did it happen?” Sam’s deep voice brought her back to the present.

            She met his eyes just to look beyond his face, unwilling to accept his empathy. “Just before Christmas. He’d been acting weird, but I figured it was hormones, middle school and all that. He was a good kid, you know. Quiet, kept himself busy, and so, so handsome. He was stunning, every old lady would just stop and tease him, no matter where we were.”

                Sam smiled sadly, letting her hold her memories and share them in her own time.

               “I should have seen something was going on, but he had grown up with me knowing everything and he had gotten really good at controlling himself around me. Nobody likes a nagging mom. Well, ‘a psychic mom is the worst kinda mom.’---- He told me that when he was six and I knew his stomach ache was from sneaking ice cream sandwiches all night and not just a bug.” Emery huffed and shrugged.

               “Turns out I was just the worst kind of mom anyhow,” Emery’s voice cracked. “He wasn’t big yet, barely up to my nose, but what was going through him made him strong. Bandit knew it first, started growling the second he came home the day before. Georgie locked him in my room, scared something was wrong with him. Not even knowing something was wrong with himself.” 

               “How’d he get bit?” Sam asked, following to where her story was leading.

               Emery shook her head, mouth open from loss of answers. “I guessed he had gotten into it with some kids at school or something, because it was the first night of winter break when he turned. I still had boxes of decorations and the china to get out. Didn’t realize he hadn’t come out to say goodnight. It was midnight when I went in to shut off his light and he was there and on me.” She rubbed her upper arm, as if the scratches had reopened by the sheer mention of their origin. 

               Sam inhaled, knowing how this story ended. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re safe now.” Hand reaching over the piles and distances between them, he tried to soothe her. To save her from saying it out loud. 

               “It’s not okay, Sam. It’s not going to be okay until I get him out of that place, where I sent him. You’re a hunter. You know where monsters go.” Emery linked her crossed hands, burying them between her knees.              

               He retracted his hand, brushing it through his hair instead. “His soul. That’s your deal?” 

               Emery shifted, face contorted as she measured if she should reveal it all. “If we stick it out until your brother is separated from the angel, Naomi will restore his humanity and bring him to heaven.”

               Sam sighed and stood up, not sure what to do with the sham she had been sold. “Sounds like something Naomi would say. But, I gotta ask, what aren’t you telling me? Because I know you’re not a psychic, Emery. Otherwise things would be very different—” Sam stopped short.  ‘Between us’, left unsaid.

               “I was psychic. And somehow, when Georgie—when I realized what I’d done--- I broke through to them, somehow---,” Emery hadn’t meant to but suddenly she was standing, unsteady, and lost between guilt and regret. 

“It wasn’t just angels, Sam. The dark ones came too, but they didn’t end me. No one would. Instead Naomi offered me the deal. I give up my powers and Georgie could move on. How could I say no? It was everything--- so much more than what I deserved.”

              Sam felt guilty; intruding on her past life, a tragedy so intimate and one that had nothing to do with him. Many things came flooding back to him now that he knew what had led her to him: her devoutness, her seemingly naïve trust in their deals, the way she tried to never say anything bad about another person, and the many masks she wore to get through each day. He felt blindsided with compassion for her situation beside the looming threat of popping that bubble. The knowledge that he would, again, be the one to shatter her chance at redemption, at hope.

               “Emery, you’ve got to listen to me. I don’t know exactly everything you’ve been through, but you cannot trust Naomi with this. Purgatory--- that’s no man’s land. Not angels’ or demons’ turf. Angels can’t go there on their own. Especially not to save a soul.”

               “Why are you being like this? Can’t you just understand why I’m doing this? Why does everything have to wind back to Heaven being the bad guys, Sam?!” Emery cried, frustrated at Sam’s motivation.

               Sam closed his eyes, knowing how insensitive he sounded. Straightening up he looked Emery dead in the eyes. “Because, Cas is the only angel that we’ve known to get into Purgatory. And it takes a lot more power than Heaven has left to even open a door. Naomi can’t save your son. I doubt she ever could. But I know somebody who might be able to.”

^*^*^

Read On: The Battery Unleashed

[buckybabybaby]

Mr Hollywood (Chapter 16)

Summary: Bucky Barnes, an underpaid teaching assistant in a small English village, dreams of a movie career back in his home country of America. He finally gets the break he's always wanted, and if it wasn't for you, his best friend, he wouldn't have been able to take it.

But is that fact enough to save your friendship when it's tested by the pressures of Hollywood?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader (Gender Neutral)

Word count: 1253

Chapter summary: first date with Bucky! 

A/n: I think the next chapter, which should be up next weekend, will be the last! And then an epilogue and it'll be over...

If you've stuck with it, thank you so much!!

(If the picture is all blurry, opening it in a new tab in browser helps!)

Warnings: little bit of bad language, little bit of a douchy ex manager being mean

Previous: Chapter 15

Mr Hollywood Masterlist | Main Masterlist

*****

The rest of the family are out when you get back to the house, meaning you can use the master bathroom uninterrupted to get changed for your date. It still hasn't sunk in that that's what it'll be. An actual, real, not-in-the-friendly-sense-of-the-word, date. A proper date, with Bucky. You can hear him in his en suite getting ready, humming quietly to himself, and you can't wipe the grin off your face.

Spinning in front of the mirror to check your appearance, you sigh, deciding that this is as good as it's going to get. The familiar insecurities about not being enough creep back in but you are quick to shut them up. Bucky likes you for you, loves you for you, and despite all the beautiful people he must have met and worked with in his new life, you're still the one he wants.

He's standing at the bottom of the stairs waiting when you've finished getting ready. Tapping away on his phone, he doesn’t notice you until you're halfway down, and the way he smiles up at you when he does is worth all the heartbreak and hurt of the past year.

“You look nice.”

“Just nice?” You tease.

“Gorgeous.” He sounds so sincere and you flush as he meets you at the bottom step, leaning in for a quick kiss.

“Thank you. So do you.”

He offers you his arm. “Well? Shall we?”

*****

The low lighting and soft music of the restaurant Bucky's chosen is a contrast from any place you've visited together before, a sign of how your relationship has shifted. This is all you've ever dreamed of and more, and you ignore your nerves to let yourself enjoy the date.

At first you two talk about anything that crosses your mind, from travel plans to school gossip and the new baby niece or nephew he'll soon have, until you mention wanting to build a bigger run for the chickens.

Bucky frowns. “Wait a minute. Where are they while you're here?”

“Peggy said she'd check on them, fill up their water and clean their nest box. It takes less time now there's only three.”

“Oh, Y/N. I'm so sorry about Dot. I should have said that before, Dayton did tell me.”

“I'm sorry too. I know she was your favourite.”

“Yeah, she was.” He smiles sadly. “I've missed them almost as much as I've missed you.”

“I'm sure they've missed you too.”

You grab your phone to show him the newest pictures you have off them, and the evening continues perfectly until his posture goes rigid on spotting something behind you, the look on his face causing you to tense up too.

“Don't look now, but my old manager is at the bar.”

Wide eyed, you reach out for Bucky's trembling hands. “Do you want to leave?”

“Yes. Please. Sorry to spoil everything.”

“Hey, no, nothings spoiled. We can go somewhere else for dessert.”

Ignoring standard etiquette and not bothering to flag down a waiter for the cheque, you make your way to the entrance podium as Bucky grabs your jacket from the cloakroom. When a server eventually manages to get a break and take your card, you refuse to let Bucky pay, not even for half the bill.

“You can get the ice cream.”

“Deal.”

Even all the way over the other side of the room you can hear Bucky's manager arguing with the bartender, not happy with the refusal of service on the grounds that he's plainly had more than enough to drink already. Any hope of you slipping out quietly is lost when, growing bored of fighting with the bar staff, he moves away to try his luck in the next restaurant and recognises Bucky by the door.

He staggers over to you both. “Barnes? Barnes! It is you! You fucking-”

He pauses when his gaze falls to you.

“And this must be the slut you were willing to risk your career for.” He looks you up and down with a sneer. “Don't see what all the fuss was about.”

Bucky sighs tiredly. “Get the fuck out of here, David.”

Going to leave again, Bucky is stopped in his tracks as a glass is thrown in his direction, shattering around his feet. You jump at the noise, gasping quietly as Bucky moves you so he's blocking you from view. Breathing heavily in fright, your hand twists into the back of his shirt, clinging on for dear life as you try to work out how to prevent any more violence.

Bucky clearly has the same wish as you. “Go home, David. You need to sleep this off. Haven't you got a court date in a couple of days? You'll want to be in better shape for then.”

David is swaying dangerously at this point, fists clenched. You are reassured minutely by the member of staff you can see in the background on the phone to what you hope are the emergency services.

“We're leaving. I suggest you do the same.”

“No! You and that brother of yours ruined everything! You can't just take that away from me and not-”

David tips too far forward finally, and as he's picking himself of the floor you force Bucky out of the restaurant and into the street. Stepping out of the way of a policewoman, you watch through the window as his old manager is pinned to the wall and handcuffed unceremoniously.

“If he was on bail, this isn't going to help his case,” You say, watching Bucky carefully.

“Good.”

He lets go of your hand and paces quickly along a side alley, running his hands through his hair. You follow hesitantly, not wanting to intrude on his personal space but also not wanting to leave him alone when he's so obviously distressed.

“Bucky?” You ask, worried. “What's wrong?”

He doesn't meet your eye. “Seeing him again brought it all back. Made me think, what if I hurt you again? Some other dick in Hollywood gets in my head and I push you away? I couldn't put you through that twice.”

You can't lie and say you haven't had the same thought. It's hard to trust again when you've been so badly hurt, but after everything that's happened in the last month or two, you're sure history won't repeat it's self in that respect.

“We'll get through anything, just as long as you're honest with me.”

“I will be, promise.”

“Thank you. But you needn't worry, I don't think Dayton would let you do that again.”

He nods shakily. “Day scared the hell out of me, not least just turning up in the middle of LA when I thought he was back at his home. And then to top if off he wasn't very nice to me.”

“I'll bet.”

“He was so angry I didn't answer his calls. Sam said I was an idiot too.”

“Can't say I disagree.”

“But he still helped me anyway. I wouldn't be here without him.” He collapses onto a fire escape hanging off the nearest building. “I wouldn't have got a second chance with you without him.”

“Remind me to thank him later then.” You rise up on to your tiptoes, leaning through the bars off the staircase to press a kiss to his cheek. “Do you still want ice cream?”

“I think I need something stronger.”

“Chocolate fudge cake it is then.”

He tips his head back in laughter at that and you think yeah, together the two of you will be just fine.

*****

Chapter 17

[courtneyyharper]

Top 10 Netflix TV Shows to Binge during Quarantine & Chill

To help out my fellow friends in lockdown and so you don’t have to put up the standard Instagram story asking, I’ll be doing a quick countdown of my top 10 tv shows available on Netflix that will hopefully help you all pass this monotonous time.

This goes without saying but I’m going to say it anyways: all opinions are my own and as admittedly these are all very popular shows please feel free to shoot me suggestions to broaden my own horizons!

I’m going to try and create some semblance of order and countdown from 10! So, without further ado…

10. American Horror Story

Okays, so maybe not one if you scare easily although it’s definitely verging more towards the creepy and uncomfortable side than horror. The good thing about this show is if you don’t like the plot, not to worry because the next season is a completely different ball game with a new story, new characters and probably even a different time period, making the show more of an anthology than a series. A nice little link is the use of the same actors each season and if you look closely, you’ll see the Easter eggs and links between!

It remains popular amongst it’s fanbase and although the initial hype that made me jump on the bandwagon in 2011 has eventually died down it’s still one to check out, if at least just for the first three seasons, if you want something a little strange and peculiar.

https://www.netflix.com/title/70210884?s=i&trkid=13747225

9. Gilmore Girls

Set in the little dreamy American town of Stars Hollow with fast-talking sarcastic humour and a coffee-loving mother and daughter bond at the centre. This is one for those of us who appreciate many a cultural reference and enjoys many a love triangle. An easy watch with truly engaging characters you’ll be sad when this show comes to an end… but not to worry they do one more season, A Year in the Life, to wrap everything up with a bow.

Perfect for an easy watch about college, boys, and most complicated of all… family!

https://www.netflix.com/title/70155618?s=i&trkid=13747225

8. Prison Break

A true classic! You’d be hard pressed to find someone that doesn’t consider this show one of the greats. It’s the one your mum’s boyfriend will continue to talk about and recommend time and time again, right? Just me? Well I finally gave in and was caught into the binge that is Wentworth Miller.

We see him play Michael Scofield, a structural engineer who gets himself purposefully incarcerated in order to save his innocent brother Lincoln from death row, with a classic prison escape. If nothing else this show has you on the edge of your seat for the first season and impressed at the continual twists and turns the character relations and plot takes. This is a show you want to see before it is eventually spoiled for you…

https://www.netflix.com/title/70140425?s=i&trkid=13747225

7. You

Although by show of hands Joe Goldberg is decidedly just Dan Humphreys on steroids, I can’t deny that each Boxing Day that the new season was released it was binged in one day. See Joe fall in love and do anything to keep it. Character driven; monologue driven. Binging this show may have you questioning who’s side you’re on once you’re rooting for the murderer and it’ll make you gasp out loud while doing it.

Just don’t get too attached to any of the characters…

https://www.netflix.com/title/80211991?s=i&trkid=13747225

6. Stranger Things

With an entrancing 80s vibe aesthetic we centre around the small town of Hawkins and a group of best friends during the disappearance of their friend Will and the appearance of a young mute girl with a shaved head and some peculiar abilities. As the story unravels, we’re brought into the world of the supernatural and government conspiracies based loosely on some very real and very spooky Soviet Union experiments. You may also be thinking ‘hey, these kids look familiar’ and that’s right they’re in every other show with a similar 80s theme (see: IT and I Am Not Okay With This). Oh, and Winona Ryder.

I can see this show climbing the list when I finally get round to watching that last season…

https://www.netflix.com/title/80057281?s=i&trkid=13747225

5. Peaky Blinders

I’m just going to say it, it’s cool. What gang movie or show isn’t? We see the Shelby family conduct some dodgy business in 1919 Birmingham as part of the gang, the Peaky Blinders (based however loosely on the real Peaky Blinders street gang in Birmingham). Perfect for fans of DiCaprio’s Gangs of New York. Run ins with the law, underhand criminal happenings in the back room of a bar, gang wars. Have I said enough? Cillian Murphy in a suit perhaps?

The only thing that stops this show being further up the list is despite the overall plot being capturing, each individual episode runs slightly slow, although that won’t affect the awe-feeling at the end of each one.

If nothing else you’ll really get off on the fun of saying ‘By order, of the Peaky focking Blinders!’ again and again until you drive even yourself crazy.

https://www.netflix.com/title/80002479?s=i&trkid=13747225

4. Suits

This one nearly made me change my whole career path and choose law for a degree.

With this show you’ve really got to binge to keep up with the legal jargon but it’s oh so worth it. Mike Ross, an extremely smart college dropout is questionably hired by Harvey Specter, high flying lawyer for a prestigious New York law firm, all while hiding Mike’s secret. And wearing lots and lots of very nice suits.

You’ll be surprised how fast you get sucked into the daily going-on of the law office. Plus, you get to see Meghan Markle (fun fact: who’s real name is Rachel!) pre-royalty vibes. Sleek, sexy, sophisticated, sharp-dialogue and by episode three you’ll be singing the Greenback Boogie and buying your own ‘You Just Got Litt Up!’ mug by the end of the week.

https://www.netflix.com/title/70195800?s=i&trkid=13747225

3. Atypical

A truly honest coming of age story as Sam Gardner, a teenager on the autism spectrum, attempts to navigate high school, family, friends, love and… penguins? This is one where you’ll just have to trust me and watch to understand.

https://www.netflix.com/title/80117540?s=i&trkid=13747225

2. The Vampire Diaries

Now we’re getting down to the nitty gritty. Okays, yes, if you’re a regular binger then chances are you’ve already saw this show. This show has been on my favourites list since the day it aired in 2008. The first adaptation ever (it’s the English student in me, sorry) that was better than the book and with 171 episodes it’s the ultimate binge.

Vampires (not the sparkly kind), witches, werewolves and love triangles all clash in the small town of Mystic Falls. Granted it sounds like a chick-flick, but I know just as many boy friends as girls that have got sucked (ha, get it?) into this rollercoaster. This is my number one recommendation to anyone who asks for a new show and I’ll say now what I always say: give this show a go and once you get over the cheesiness of the angsty story-telling from the beginning of Season One, then it’ll be worth every moment.

https://www.netflix.com/title/70143860?s=i&trkid=13747225

1. Friends

Oh… my… god!

The one where it’s controversial.

You probably love it, hate it or if you’re a culchie then you’re most likely discovering it for the first time (which still baffles me). If you didn’t grow up with this show on E4 nine times a day before Comedy Central stole it then I do feel sorry for you. A truly iconic show and if you truly believe that loving it is not a personality trait then I beg to differ.

Six friends learn about life, family, careers and relationships in New York city.

With 10 seasons it’s the ultimate binge and will always place my number one!

https://www.netflix.com/title/70153404?s=i&trkid=13747225

Netflix Honourable mentions:

Money Heist (Season 1 and maybe season 2, we didn’t really need more after that)

Brooklyn Nine-Nine (Because obviously: nine nine!)

South Park (yeah I know, I was against this show for years but recently just caved and #noregrats)

Lucifer (sexy devil, need I say more?)

Rick and Morty (which was originally on the list but got bumped because I’m just watching the same episodes again and again until they’ve lost all meaning now)

I hope this has helped a few people out and cut down the endless hours of scrolling before just watching something you’ve saw time and time again!

Well that’s all folks! Stay safe and happy binging! ✌🏼

[whydoyouwantmyname]

Imagine Dean Thinking He Knew Everything About You

You were a hunter, recommended to work with Dean and Sam by none other then the famous, deceased John Winchester. He had heard about you through the grapevine, and even had the pleasure of meeting you once or twice. So when Sammy went to Stanford, he could think of nobody else to recommend his son to take with him on the more difficult hunts. Dean was leery at first, but after seeing that you were one hell of a shot, and learned that you were completely self taught hunter who started hunting at the age of 16, he started trusting you more. Most hunters only knew your age and that much about you, but Dean always thought he knew more... you both thought you knew each other pretty well. You were the only one prepared for when Dean revealed he sold his soul for Sammy, and while it broke your heart, you saw it coming a mile away.

You and the eldest Winchester had a strange bond, on the outside it might even look like a real relationship, but to those close to you, they knew you would never be the power couple everyone dreamed of you being. So it didn’t surprise Sam that while arguing with his brother in the car, that you were taking his side.

“Dean, we have the colt! We can go back to the crossroad, summon the demon...” Sam was arguing back, voice elevated.

“And what Sam? Twist her arm and threaten to gank her if she doesn’t agree to reverse your brother’s deal?” You loudly interrupted from the back seat

“Yeah, and if that doesn’t work we just shot her...”

“Oh and what you think the deal with just magical vanish with her?”You snapped back, Sam looking from you to Dean, as you finished, “We aren’t doing it Sam, it is suicide, for all of us if we do.”

“How can you be taking his side on this [Y/N]?” Sam pleaded in a shout

“Cause all you are giving me is a bunch of ifs, and buts, and maybes, and that’s not good enough! If we screw this deal up you die Sam!” Dean’s voice matching the volumes of Sam’s as he stared at him dumbfounded

“And if we don’t fix this, you die Dean!” Sam yelled in response, Dean’s grip tightening on the wheel as you flopped back against the leather seats, Sam looking at his brother with frustration as he continued, “It is at least worth a try.”

“No Sam it isn’t, now we are done with this conversation, and if I hear one more word about it, you can walk!” Dean retorted

“Why cause you said so.”

“Yeah, because I said...”

“Well you aren’t Dad Dean!” Sam screamed before the car got eerily quiet, you could feel the regret radiating off of Sam, and the frustration radiating off of Dean as he harshly said, “You’re right, I’m not Dad, but I am the oldest, and I am doing what is best for this family, so we are dropping this, now.”

The car was silent for a solid five minutes, no one speaking as the tension hung in the impala like a smoke cloud, finally you spoke up from the back, “So Sam, tell us about this case again?”

He cleared his throat, his normally cheery, sympathetic tone filled with frustration, and a fight for composure as he grabbed his printed papers, “The psychotic killer, rips victims apart with brute-like force.”

“Any descriptions of his razor sharp teeth, or his four inch claws?” Dean inquired, as you added, “Don’t forget his animal eyes?”

“Nope, however the lunar cycle is right.” He grumbled as you looked out the window, taking in the dark surroundings as he continued, “meaning if it is a werewolf, we don’t have long, full moon is this Friday, after it is a good month before it is full again.”

“Meaning we have two days to find this thing. No sweat.” Dean responded as he glanced at you in the rear view mirror, hoping you wouldn’t notice him sneak a glance as he sped to the nearest motel.

Upon arriving you all filed into the dingy room, looking at the two beds as both you and Dean threw your bags onto the same bed, following a tradition you both started when you were just a duo. Sam chuckled to himself as he saw you continue the cycle, shaking his head at how stubborn you both were as you gathered your pajamas and snuck into the bathroom. Another unwritten rule you shared with the boys, you always got the first shower, and if they didn’t like it, they were welcome to join. The only one who ever did though was Dean, but that was because Dean threatened to salt and burn Sam in the woods if he ever even thought of joining you. At the soft sound of Sam chuckling Dean lifted his head, looking at the younger before whispering, “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, just if I didn’t know any better...”

“I know, you would think you were traveling with a married couple, you say it every time we stay anywhere.”

“Admit it Dean, why don’t you just ask her out already?”

“I got less then a year Sam, why ruin what we have now with the impending doom?”

“You already are ruining it, she just is too in love with you to tell you how stupid you are...”

“Sam drop it! Or do I have to come out there and put you both in time out in a towel again!?” Your voice boomed out of the bathroom, both boys looking to the shut door, hearing the water running, Sam was the first to speak, “I swear she is part....”

“Heard that!” You shouted back, causing both boys to drop the topic for the rest of the night.

You awoke the next morning in the same position you always did, curled up on your half of the bed, Dean’s arm flung over you, pulling you slightly on to his side. He always did this in his sleep, and each morning you would turn over to see his content face, mouth slightly agape as he exhaled a mouth full of morning breath in your face. Of course you were unwilling to move, because if you left he would immediately wake up, and be grumpy for the rest of the day. So you suffered in a blissful silence, remembering every little detail of his face, and the way you felt in this moment, because you knew it would be all over soon.

“Take a picture, it will last longer.” Sam stated, standing at the mini fridge as he sipped his morning juice

“I can’t, he would kill me if he knew I had it.” You rebuttaled, “just like I will kill you if you wake him.”

He knew it was a joke, a smile creaking across his face as he took another sip, making sure it was audible. He knew you were planning how to rid of his body, but you couldn’t even reply before Dean muttered, “You two sure do know how to ruin a guy’s beauty sleep.”

“Good, you’re awake.” You smiled before slithering out of his arm, and waltzing over to Sam, snatching his juice as you took a large sip, smiling at Sam’s annoyed expression.

“So what’s the game plan? You asked as Dean slowly sat up, groaning as though he was 70 years old, “sight see, real estate shop, fake being feds to interview a witness.”

“Why not just come back to bed, sleep another hour or two?” Dean asked as he rubbed his eyes, smirking as you grinned, “not today Dean, maybe later.”

“But I have less than a year left....”

“Then you shouldn’t have been a dumbass and sealed the deal with the devil.” You retorted before walking towards your suitcase to collect your dreaded pant suit, missing the heartbreak that flashed over Dean’s face as he heard the slight sadness in your voice. All Sam could do was just look from you to Dean, wishing nothing more then to have never come back.

“I’m Detective Plant, this is Detective Page, and Detective Paine. We are with the County sheriff department.” Dean introduced as Kyle looked at all of you

“Great, I’ve been waiting for you guys all morning.” His response sounded slightly shaky, which to you three was not surprising, until Kyle continued, “I mean you are the sketch artists, aren’t you?”

“Uhhhh.” Sam looked at both you and Dean, begging you say something, however you just affirmed Kyle’s claim, “of course we are.”

“Yeah, you should see the things my partner here can do with a pen.” Dean smiled as he clapped Sam on the back, Sam looking at him with dismay as he slowly swallowed in discomfort, “However before we get started on that, I just wanted to ask you, how’d you get away?”

“I-I have no idea. I was hiding, and he found me. He was coming right for me, and then he stopped, stared right at me with this blank expression, and then ran away.” He reminisced before Sam cleared his throat.

“What about before that Kyle, did you notice anything weird like howling, or..”

“No, we were just discussing the building materials we should use, I was trying to convince them that bricks would be the best. My brother walked behind the truck, and then....” his voice got slightly distant as Sam cleared his throat.

“I am going to need as much physical detail as possible.” Sam began, all of you listening to Kyle description his attacker, who was starting to sound like just an ordinary guy. As the boys continued their questions, your brain turning as you felt a strange familiarity with the story, the answer to why not clicking until Kyle softly cried the words, “Those were my brother’s, this guy.... he killed my brothers. How would you feel?”

“Like the world was falling apart around me.” You answered softly at the same time as Sam , “I couldn’t imagine anything worse.”

Dean looked towards Sam, completely unaware that you had even answered before looking back to Kyle, “I know this isn’t easy, but if you could remember anything else?” Dean asked as you mentally checked out, all you could hear for a moment was the sound of your own heartbeat, as a flashback of blood flashed in your mind. However you were quickly pulled back to reality as Sam lightly touched your arm, “we are once again so sorry for your loss, goodbye.”

As you both rushed from the room Sam whispered, “You okay?”

“Yeah, sorry, there is just something.....” Your voice stopped as you caught sight of the notepad, a smile forming as you quickly grabbed it from an unsuspecting Sam, “This is some masterpiece.”

“It was the best I could do, unlike someone I know, I wasn’t in all the advance art classes before dropping out.”

“No I love it, I kind of want to frame this.” You replied as Dean walked out of an empty room, with the Doctor. His eyes catching your smile as he quickly bidded the doctor farewell, and joined you and Sam. Upon exiting he looked at you and leaned close, hoping Sam wouldn’t hear what was being said behind him, “What’s so funny?”

All you could do was smile and hand him the drawing, a laugh erupted from his mouth as Sam looked behind him, shooting you both a confused look until he saw the note pad.

“This is some work of art there Sammy.” Dean chuckled as he handed the pad back to Sam, who looked like he wanted nothing more then to change the topic.

“So what are you thinking? I mean he definitely doesn’t sound like he saw a werewolf?”

“Honestly, it almost sounds like he was the third pig, and saw the big bad wolf.” You answered as both boys stopped in there tracks, looking as you walked away slightly, before turning to look at both of them.

“The third pig?” Dean asked, confusion in his voice as you scoffed,”Honestly it is probably nothing, just a old story I heard once.”

“What story would that be?”

“The original version of the three little pigs.” You answered, both of them looking at you in confusion as you chuckled, “You two are hunters and you have never heard about the Grimm Brothers?”

“I have, I just don’t remember...” Sam started, however you were quick to interrupt! “Forget about it, like I said, probably nothing.”

You turned and continued walking towards the Impala, both boys following as they continued discussing possibilities, and Kyle’s brothers, unaware to the fact that you wiped a tear from your face.

The three of you were back at the hospital hours later, this time questioning a woman named Julie Watson, she was hysterical almost, but as she recanted her story you couldn’t help but notice how familiar it sounded. You were drawn back to reality though when she asked, “What about the little girl?”

“What do you mean little girl?” You asked

“She had to have been an eight maybe nine year old girl, I thought I saw her out the window, but then she just vanished. I was trying to figure out why she would be there, but it must have been the drugs.”

“This uh little girl, what did she look like?” Dean asked

“Does it matter?” Julie asked

“Please, every detail matters Mrs. Watson.” Sam pleaded as she inhaled

“She was pale, with long, black hair and a red ribbon. She was such a beautiful, innocent looking little girl, it was hard to imagine her being there to witness something so horrific.”

“Thank you so much Mrs. Watson.” You smiled, the boys nodding as you all left the room, and walked a bit down the hall, stopping near the entrance outside as Dean looked at you both, “What the hell just happened? I mean these are normal people, why are they...”

“It is almost like they are reenacting old fairy tales.” You answered in a whisper, both boys looking at you in confusion, before Sam answered, “Which one would this be? I mean there is no fairy tales of a grandma just carving someone up?”

“Well not in traditional Disney fashion, but there is a German tale of Hansel and Gretel, where...”

“Okay, that is enough with the fairy tales, Sammy and I are going to go check out the little old lady’s house, why don’t you stay here, and see if you can figure out anything on this disappear girl.” Dean instructed as you looked at him, Sam could see that you wanted to say something more, but you held your tongue, and just nodded, before making your way to the library , leaving the boys alone.

Having found nothing at the library you returned to the hospital, prepared to ask staff about the little girl, however upon arriving your attention was captured by a familiar staff member.

“Hey Doc.” You called over to Dr. Garrison, who was about to turn into a room, his hand on the handle as quickly approached.

“Agent Paine, is there anything I can do for you?” He asked, hand still on the handle as you nervously shifted

“Listen, I know this is going to sound really strange, but have you ever had any children come in and unfortunately parish?”

“Not often, why do you ask?” He answered, concern written on his face as you quickly reassured him, “It is nothing serious, just that Ms. Watson said something interesting about what she saw. I am sure it had something to do with the drugs in her system, but I was wondering if she could have maybe seen a picture of the little girl in the paper or on the news.”

“Well that doesn’t mean that the girl perished?” He replied

“I know, it was just a possibility though, figured I would check all my bases. I am sorry for bothering you, I am sure you really need to converse with this patient.”

“Yes, however she doesn’t really talk back.” Garrison joked as your eyebrow lifted in confusion, “She is a coma patient.” He continued, “She came in poisoned a few years back, somehow she consumed bleach. Her stepmother brought her in, she has been in a coma ever since.”

“That sounds awful.” You replied, “I am sure her family is devastated.”

“Oh yes. The mother unfortunately perished a year ago, I am all she has left now. I try to talk to her as often as I can. But I have to get back to work soon, so if you will...”

“No problem Doc, thank you so much for your time.” You answered as you smiled softly, as he opened the door, allowing you to make a quick glance, at a woman lying in the bed, with pale skin, black hair and a white dress covered her body. Your mind wandering to the description of the little girl as your phone came to life.

“Hello thank you for calling Martha’s brothel, the special today is a whole bottle of pineapple rum, and a girl from the islands, who may or may not have a STD, how may I service you?”

“Hey, I never thought I would be saying this but I think you were right when you said fairytales. We think that the little girl is controlling the attackers to reenact the stories, almost like a messed up puppet show.” He answered after a quick chuckle from your greeting.

“Really? What made ya change your mind?”

“We saw the little girl, she was at the scene of another attack. She was recreating Cinderella, disappeared when I said something. She left behind an apple....”

“Snow White.” You answered, looking towards the window, peering into the room where Dr. Garrison sat with his patient, a large story book open in front of him, “And I think I found our Snow White.”

“Where?”

“Meet me at the hospital, I think it is one of the patients.”

“Whatever you say sweetheart, and maybe after we solve this thing, you can service me.”

“In your dreams Winchester.” You flirty rebuttaled before hanging up the phone, and looked at the story telling. A nurse walking by noticed you and stopped, “Can I help you agent?”

“Um yeah,” Your eyes shifted from the window of the door to the blonde as you continued, “What can you tell me about the patient Dr. Garrison is with?”

“Oh Callie, she has been here before I started.” The nurse smiled, “Poor Doc, she is all the family he has left.”

“Family?”

“Yeah, Callie is his daughter.” She replied as you soaked in the information, before muttering a quick thanks and rushing outside to meet the boys. You were unaware that the nurse was following you until she stepping in front of your vision, “Hey can I ask you something about your partner?”

“Page or Plant?”

“The smoking hot one.” She replied with a smile as you mentally rolled your eyes, “So Plant.”

“Know if he is...”

“Nope.” You popped the p as your attention was taken by the black beauty as she pulled up to the curb, “He hasn’t been available since he was 20 actually, his girl and him have been together for years, she is a real jealous woman too.”

“Nothing I can’t handle.” She smiled lustfully as you excused yourself, her eyes following you as you approached Sam and Dean, and before either boy could say anything, your hand tangled in Dean’s hair, your lips quickly touching his as your other hand flipped off the nurse behind you, her gasp audible as Sam looking at you both in wonder.

“That was your service you asked for.” You whispered, pulling away when you heard the door slam, “looked like the really clingy type.”

“Wish I got that greeting every time you saw me.” Dean joked, Sam clearing his throat as you looked towards him, Dean’s eyes staying on you however, mentally telling himself to control his impulse to kiss you again.

“So who is our Snow White?”

“Her name is Callie Garrison.” Looking back at Dean, “and no she doesn’t look like the star of that stupid porn flick you made me watch, she looks like the adult version of our disappearing, apple girl.”

“Garrison, isn’t that the doctor that is treating all the vics?” Sam inquired

“Yup, turns out it is his daughter, I am not sure though how she ended up here, but the clingy blonde said she was admitted before she was hired.”

“Well then,” Dean finally mustered out, “lets go chat with the doc.”

When you all approached the door, you could hear the familiar words of Little Red Riding Hood, you stopped in your tracks, remembering as Dean turned towards you, ushering for Sam to continue as he slowly approached you, “Hey, What’s up buttercup?”

“Nothing, but if it is Callie, the next attack will be from Red Riding Hood.” You whispered as Dean’s hand went to your arm, “How do you know all this? I mean you don’t have a secret kid do you.”

“Long story, however I think we should get back to Sammy.” You whispered as he squeezed your arm, your hand patting him on the chest as you started towards Dr. Garrison and Sam.

“Well it is definitely her, she fits the story of Snow White to a t.” Sam whispered as you walked towards the exit

“Yup Stepmom poisons the girl, puts her in a deep sleep. Except this one can’t be woken up by true loves first kiss.”

“What’s her motive though?” Sam asked

“Could be like Mischa Barton, Sixth Sense though not the O.C.”

“What are you...” Sam started before he interrupted

“Listen you know lore, [Y/N] knows fairytales, and I know movies. She played the pasty ghost, remember the mom had that...”

“Münchausen syndromes by proxy.” You interrupted, Dean looking at you as you finished his thought, “You aren’t the only one who knows movies too Deany.”

“Well let’s say that all these years Callie has been suffering in silence because nobody knows the truth about what what her mommy dearest did.” Sam interrupted your moment, both yours and Dean eyes breaking contact as you continued walking towards the exit

“And now after all this time, her spirit is becoming more frustrated, and in turn is acting out as a method to release some of this pent up anger.”

“Plus seeing how all she has to listen to in her room too is the Grimm Brother’s, it is like ideas of punishment is being handed to her on a silver platter.” You all stopped before the waiting room, your back to the door as you looked at both the boys.

“Which that alone is enough to drive anyone crazy.”

“Not everyone Dean, you would be surprised how many people actually enjoy listening to those stories every day.” You rebuttaled before Sam grabbed your arm and pulled you out of the way. Your eyes looking towards the door as it dinged open. EMTs calling out stats as they pushed a older female on the Gurnee into the blacked out room. She was bloody, and barely conscious, but before the door closed you all heard the EMT say, “looks like she was mulled by a mad dog or a...”

“Wolf.” You whispered, “That must be the dear old granny, but now the question is, where is Red?”

“Doctor Garrison!” You called down the hall, both you and Sam jogging to him as he turned and stated, “This is the second time we are meeting like this agent. Tell me, where is your partner?”

“Out, He is trying to figure out a possible attack.”

“Well what can I do for you two?”

“Well it is actually about Callie. I was wondering if we could...”

“What about Callie?” The doctor was defensive, however you had no time to be passionate like Sam, because you knew this story all too well, and knew that Dean had just become the lumberjack of the story.

“Listen this is not going to be easy to hear but what happened to Callie was not an accident. I’m sorry to have to tell you, and I know we have no right but...”

“Exactly, you have no idea what happened to my daughter.”

“You are right I don’t, but I know what it feels like. I know exactly how you feel right now, and that there are things you still want answers too. We believe we have those...”

“How could you possible know how I...”

“I lost my brother, it was just the two of us against my parents. I came home one day and he was in bed, dead in his sleep. Turns out my mom slipped him something, and he never woke up. The corners report said it was dish washer fluid, she must have slipped it in his juice.” Your eyes tearing up as he looked to you, his own eyes watering, “I think your late wife might have done a similar thing to Callie.”

“Why would you say something like that to me?”

“We need your help, because if we don’t get it, then I am afraid a lot more people will get..”

“You two, just stay away from me, and Callie!” He stated before storming into Callie’s room, Sam following him as you stood still, replaying the real story in your head.

“[Y/n], how does the story end?” Sam whispered, his head against the door Garrison had just shut in his face.

“The grandmother and little girl get eaten. A hunter saves them.”

“Okay but these are all twisted so...”

“Everyone dies.” You exhaled, Sam putting together what you already had.

“I’m calling security.” Garrison started as you and Sam marched into the room, Sam stopping him as he covered the phone, “ Listen I would love to do this the easy way, but we are short on time, so I need you to listen to me, cause if you don’t more people will get hurt, including my brother. Callie is still here, and we think she is the one hurting all these mystery cases.”

“What are you...”

“We know it sounds crazy, but please just hear him out.” You pleaded

Garrison looked at Sam intensely as he continued, “Callie is a spirt, and we think that she is acting out to get your attention, to tell you what really happened.”

In that moment it was like everything clicked, Garrison looking at his daughter as he slowly approached her, you could see the realization on his face, “You knew?”

“Have you seen her too?” He asked you as you looked to Sam, “Not personally, but Sam and Dean have. She looks the same as she did around the time she was poisoned, white dress, long black hair tied back in a ribbon. She left Dean a apple when they went to look in on a hunch. I was here questioning you about disappearing children. When they told me that, that is when I figured out it was Callie.... and learned she was your daughter.”

“You really don’t think...”

“I do. I don’t think she means it, but I also don’t think she can fully control it. Now it seems to be she is twisting whatever the most recent fairytale you read her is, meaning right now, somewhere in town, she is recreating Little Red Riding Hood.”

“You know I always sensed her.” He rose and circled her bed, disregarding your words as he looked at her, “At first I thought I was going crazy but..”

“It is like a sense of comfort almost. Trust me I know how it feels. I felt that way for a long time after Tommy.” You said, “But Garrison, we have to find a way to stop her, or else these twisted tales will get worse and worse. Do you think there is any way....”

“You three aren’t cops are you?”

“No, but we know how to deal with situations like this.” Sam interjected as he took a stance at your side.

“And my wife poisoning her, how could you possibly...”

“Callie told us, when she left Dean that apple. Snow White was poisoned by her vain, and jealous stepmother, and put into a deep coma. Sound familiar?”

“My wife loved Callie, she would have never hurt her like this!” He gestured towards Callie’s body as Sam looked at you inhale slightly

“We believe that you believe that, but we also believe her. She wants you to believe her too, but you aren’t listening. So now In an attempt to get your attention, or to release some pent up frustration she is killing people. And at this point, the man I would protect with every fiber of my being is standing between the victims and your daughter’s fairytale war machine. So I am begging you doc, if you want the truth, if you want answers, if you want to see your little girl again, then please just listen to her, before it is too late.” Your eyes watering as you pleaded with him, his eyes casting again to Callie as he exhaled

“How do I listen to her, if she isn’t here?” Garrison softly whispered as Sam answered, “You have to summon her back, tell her you are ready to listen.”

“Dean!” Your voice filled with relief when you saw him walk into the hospital with the little girl, you could see the exhaustion, your head filling with the worse as you ran to him, your arms engulfing his as he chuckled softly, “Calm down Princess, we aren’t alone in the hotel room yet.”

“I swear if you are hurt, I am going to kick your ass for telling me to calm down.” You rebuttaled as the nurses ushered the little girl away, Sam and Garrison watching you. Both you and Dean unaware that Garrison was leaning towards Sam to whisper, “So that is the man who I saved by stopping my daughter.”

“And the little girl, and countless others.” Sam replied

“I’m fine, nothing I couldn’t handle.” Dean replied to you as you pulled back slightly

“Good, I was starting to think with your advanced age, you were losing your touch.” You pushed away in that moment, missing the fact he was once so close, and started back toward Garrison and Sam, Dean’s face contorted in hurt as he muttered to himself, “Advanced age my ass.”

“So the girl is okay?” Garrison reassured as Dean nodded his head, taking the spot between you and Sam as Garrison continued, “So this is all over?”

“Yeah, all thanks to you.” Sam answered as Garrison looked towards you

“Callie was the most important thing in my life, just like Tommy was to you. How did you cope with it... after you stopped seeing him?”

“I think you know the answer to that Doc.” You smiled weakly before continuing, “You just keep on living for both of you.”

“Thanks.” He whispered, slightly turning to exit the gathering as Dean piped up, “See you around Doc.”

Garrison stopped and stared at Dean for a minute before continuing, “I hope not.”

With that he was gone leaving you and the boys to retreat to the hotel room, where you all planned on renting for one more night before leaving.

You were laid out on the bed, your mind distracted as you waited for Sam to return with your burger and Dean’s pie. Dean was currently in the bathroom, but your mind was so caught up in the past you didn’t register him flushing, or the water running, or him leaving the bathroom... until he flopped down at the foot of the bed.

“Hey princess.” His hand went to your calf as you slightly jumped, eyes casting to him as he continued, “Sammy told me what you said to the Doc.”

“I just called you the love of my life to get through to him.” You lied, his eyes widened as he replied, “I meant about Tommy.”

“Oh.” You sat up slowly as he lifted his hand

“You never told me you had a brother.”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me about him, Sammy said that he was poisoned...”

“I was 15 when he died. He wasn’t poisoned and his name definitely was not Tommy. His name was Carter, he was 6 years old. A happy accident as I liked to call him, but to my alcoholic parents he was just another mouth to feed. I took care of him all my life. Thats how I knew all those stories, I read them to him every night. He was so bright, he adored them. Then one night while my parents were bar crawling, and I was at a friends, I left Carter with the babysitter, paid her 20 bucks to watch him. I came home to find the sitter torn to bits on the living room floor, her heart missing. I didn’t care though, because all I could think about was Carter. I searched the whole bottom half of that house, and then I ran to my room. He always slept there when he got scared, and when I opened the door it wasn’t my crying brother I saw...”

“[Y/N]...” Dean started

“I buried them in the yard, and then took the first bus to the only man I trusted, my daddy’s best friend Rufus. He taught me everything I know about hunting, and told Bobby and your daddy about me. They told me too when my parents got framed for the murder of their children, they thought the sitter was me, served them right. I spent months tracking that son of a bitch too, it was my first kill at 16.” You whispered, tears slowly falling down your face as Dean leaned forward to wipe it away.

“You never...”

“I told you now.” You whispered as Dean got up and rounded the bed, taking a seat beside you in the bed as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you to him as you whispered, “I haven’t told anyone that story since I told your daddy at the age of 17.”

“Well You never have to tell another soul. We will just let Sam believe whatever he likes and we don’t have to mention him again.”

“Is that what you want Sam and I to do?” You asked, looking up at his jawline as it clenched, “Cause I never go a day without thinking about Carter. I like to think about what he would be doing now, I mean he would be 18. He would be just about to enter the real world, I like to wonder if he would have stuck with his childhood career, or chosen differently. He was so bright, the kid would probably be a genius. He might even have a girlfriend, pretty, but not slutty, smart of course.”

Dean smiled at your rambling and then he heard you shift, “Then I wonder if I still would be a hunter, would he join me? What would that do to him, would he be like Sam, would he be like you? I like to think he would be a hybrid of you both. Would we still hunt together if Carter was here, would he approve of this deal you made?”

“What are you...”

“We can’t just forget about you Dean, you have so much left to do, I mean how do you expect us to just...”

“I don’t, but I refuse to leave you both here moping around because of what I did. I did what needed to be done, and now have to live with the fact that I will never be able to help another soul, kill another supernatural scumbag, see my brother get out of this life I dragged him into, drive my baby, tell the girl I love I am crazy about her. I don’t want the rest of you to deal with that burden.”

“But we will, because we love you Dean. I understand though, cause I would do the same thing for Carter in a heartbeat.” You confessed, “And I know you would feel the exact same way I do right now.”

“You’re right.” He whispered, your head resting in his chest as you both slowly settled into the bed and fell asleep, both trying to ignore the fact that you had both said that you loved one another.

[veliseraptor]

So let’s see if this helps me get moving again after being stalled out, because I have some writing energy back but not the writing focus necessarily, and sometimes this works. Maybe not this time, but one can always try. 

Send me a number and I’ll write 150 words in your chosen fic. Just 9 possibilities this time.

1. “Lo-” he cut himself off. “Hey, you,” he said. “We’re leaving.”

Loki didn’t move, and Clint grimaced. “Hey,” he said, louder, and that time his shoulders twitched and he turned around, like he was just then coming back to life. Or Earth, anyway. His gaze went to Julia. 

“What are you going to do with her?” he asked. 

“We’re going to her aunt’s house,” Clint said. Loki stared at Clint for several seconds, and then his mouth twisted and he looked away.

“I suppose it makes no difference what you do now,” he said. 

“Who are you?” Julia asked. 

“You don’t want to know,” Loki said, and turned to walk back to the car ahead of them. (the enemy of my enemy)

2. The soldier sighed audibly. “Let me help you inside,” he said.

“I don’t need help,” Loki snapped, but when he tried to stand on his own his vision greyed again and his thoughts must have blinked out for a moment, because the soldier was supporting him, and if his expression was mostly neutral he could still register something like worry in his flat eyes.

Loki did not know, still, what to make of the soldier’s gestures of seeming kindness. He suspected he was being used, but that was almost reassuring; it was something he could understand far better than the altruism of Rogers and Sam. (Steve Rogers’ Halfway House for Notorious Supervillains)

3. “You are asking me if I am trustworthy?” Loki said. He barked a laugh. “Ask anyone, Thor. I am sure they’d be happy to give you an answer.” 

Thor sighed. “Loki…” Oh, that tone was familiar. Faintly exasperated, see reason, Loki, which usually meant why won’t you agree with me, Loki. (Speak every man the truth)

4. “I thought we should talk,” she said at length. Loki’s expression didn’t so much as twitch.

“If you like.” Waiting for her cue, Natasha thought. How very...cooperative. 

She didn’t know him, Natasha reminded herself. For all she knew, this was what Loki was like most of the time, and what she’d seen in 2012 had been a temporary aberration. But her instincts said something was off, and Natasha knew her instincts were good. She’d lived by them often enough. 

“Thor doesn’t know I’m here,” she said, by way of opening.

“I assumed not,” Loki said. She cocked her head, and he said simply, “he would have warned me.” (good lord turned his back on me)

5. For a nervous moment Aziraphale thought oh dear, the Apocalypse has arrived after all, but he listened enough to hear that someone had apparently collapsed on the road and was currently being brought, bleeding profusely, to the infirmary.

Aziraphale sighed, looked longingly at the bestiary he was reading, and reluctantly stood to go see what could be done.

The last thing he expected was the identity of the unfortunate lying limply on one of the cots, ginger hair dark with sweat and skin alarmingly greyish. His eyes were closed, which was actually, in this case, a good thing. 

He was also making little wheezing noises that did not sound at all right. (Mercy)

6. Then they both ended up at King Solomon’s wedding party and, well, sooner or later Aziraphale was going to notice, and anyway Crowley was a bit drunk and more than a bit bored.

“What d’you think of the wine?” he asked, sidling up, and Aziraphale jumped like a cat that’d had its tail yanked. 

“Craw- Crowley!” he said. “Who put you on the invite list?” 

Crowley was stupidly pleased by the fact that Aziraphale remembered his new name. No one Downstairs used it. “I know a guy,” he said mysteriously, rather than admitting that he’d just snuck in and no one seemed sober enough to care. (Five Hundred Ways to Discorporate a Demon)

7. Malkar was not a flash lady who felt sorry for me. That was plain when I first saw him, rubies on his fingers and looking at me like he could see right through my skin to something underneath, and I couldn’t look away.

He paid for me for the night and then paid for me for good, said let us see if you are worth the price, and bundled me into a hansom. (Pygmalion)

8. Steve squeezed his eyes closed and made himself say what he’d been thinking. “I’m...worried about him. Not about the stuff with Tony - I trust him on that front. He knows the stakes.”

“So what don’t you trust him with?” Sam asked, though the look on his face suggested he knew the answer and just wanted Steve to say it. He sighed out slowly through his nose. 

“With himself,” he said. “When Loki feels like he has something to prove, he gets reckless. And he for sure feels like he he has something to prove when it comes to Thanos. On top of that, his self-preservation instincts aren’t always...great.”

“Wonder what it’s like having people like that around,” Sam said pointedly. (we live until we die)

9. Between him and his brother, nothing had ever been easy. 

That was unsurprising enough: almost nothing with Francis could be called easy, or simple. But for all the back-and-forth, what had sometimes felt like being wrenched to-and-fro between fraternity and the kind of anger only Francis had ever been able to provoke, he could not unfeel the hopeless and terrible grief of believing, for a few horrid minutes, that he’d watched his brother murdered in cold blood on the point of his homecoming. (haec olim meminisse iuvabit)

[webcricket]

It’s No Secret

Pairing: CastielXSisterWinchester!Reader

Word Count: 1754

Warning: Adult/NSFW/18+ readers only! Once upon a time Castiel thought it would be best to keep your romantic relationship a secret from your brothers. Once upon a time the seraph rather explosively realized this was an utterly absurd notion. Fluff and smut.

Castiel dislikes secrets – both secrets kept from him and keeping them himself. In his experience they lead to conflict, negative emotions ranging from resentment to rage, poorly informed, or just plain bad, decisions, and ultimately shatter the trust in relationships, the pieces of which take time to put back together if they can be repaired at all. At present, as he trails you on a wooded path, crackle of fallen leaves tamped beneath feet on this sunshiny Kansas autumn afternoon filling the air with a dryly crunched chorus, the latter outcome troubles his mind.

When initially he felt a draw to you – his vessel physically reacting to your presence in a room, even more so to nearness – he suppressed the superficial attraction with a series of stolid stares, stumbles over speech, and seraphim signature awkward silences, none of which stood any chance of stopping burgeoning love from crowding every corner of his celestial heart. It wasn’t long before he unburdened himself of the building pressure and confessed to you that particular secret. He never was very good at lying, especially when asked directly by the wide-eyed disarming object of his affection; it took you no time to seal your shared devotion with a kiss.

Doubtful of his worthiness to woo you, Cas worried, of course, about how Sam and Dean – mostly Dean – would feel about a fallen angel, friend or no, courting their sister. So as the situation evolved, progressed from stolen glances, caresses, and kisses to sex – at first shy and worshipful grown needy with a desire too often denied in order to sustain secrecy – your brothers remained in the dark; it’s what Cas’ doubt deemed necessary, and you happily paid the cost of staying mum on the matter in exchange for his love.

The angel, though, deeply dislikes secrets, especially this one; he nourishes a blossoming lotus of guilt seeded by cowardice for what amounts to a purely speculative and selfish shield against your brothers’ blindly overprotective indignation and, as you’ve grown closer, an increasingly inconvenient barrier between you to having as much semblance of a normal relationship as can be expected as a hunter and angel coupled by the profoundest bond of all.

Watching the rhythmic sway of your hips as you tread before him quietly humming, baby blue fabric of a sun dress donned specifically for the unseasonably warm day draping your curves, overcome by the rise of carnality consuming both his vessel and celestial nature at the sight and all he has subdued, he stops up short beside an elderly oak; the edge of his trench coat flutters against the grizzled bark in the same wending breeze that ruffles locks loosened to caress the temptingly exposed skin of your sun-flecked shoulders. If you intended to tease him into lustful surrender with your attire, it’s definitely working.

Inhibited by the unforgivingly echoing halls of the bunker and obstinate occupation of the concreted confines by Sam and Dean in their unsuccessful search for a case in an endless stretch of supernatural silence, it’s been nearly two weeks since he touched you, took you, in the way he yearns to. Routed again today by Dean’s suggestion you all spend the afternoon fishing since there didn’t seem to be anything better to do, your brother intimating you should make those freaking awesome sandwiches Sammy likes so much for a picnic lunch, the angel senses your surging frustration, too.

Cooped in the kitchen all morning while the boys went on ahead, marching to meet your brothers after Cas chivalrously excused himself from the shoreline upon your phone call to meet you at the car to help carry the luncheon accoutrements, mumbling about stuffing their mugs and hoping they choke so maybe you and Cas can have a few minutes alone, you’re both at the barren limit of making the best of it and barely preserving casual composure.

Standing there, reaching out a palm to stabilize his arousal dizzied form with the sturdy trunk, he can taste the salt of sweat thinly sheeting your skin. He scents, too, the wet warmth of wanton need steeping your center. A gravelly laugh vibrates his torso, self-effacing retort to the absurd folly of hiding your fondness for so many months; relief and realization, finally, that not enough is enough – no more secrets. Whatever consequences he imagined up until now are worth being able to openly adore you for all the time you have together.

Hearing only the sound of your footfalls noisily cushioned on the forest floor, you turn, the angel’s name on your tongue, to see what’s holding him up. “Cas? We forget something in the car?”

Shaking his head, enigmatic smile skirting his mouth, he looks at his boots and bends to set down the basket he carries. “No, nothing is wrong. I was just … thinking.”

You stride forward, carefully negotiating several roots to cross the distance to him. Casting a quick glance over your shoulder to be certain you’re not seen, you squint against the glare of the sun glinting off water through the thick grove of trees a couple hundred yards ahead. Dean’s boisterous laugh carries on the breeze; they’re close, but not within eyesight. Swinging your stare back to the angel, outstretching fingers, you pull at the lapel of his coat and flatten a palm to his chest, matching his strange smile in a gesture of curious concern. “About what?”

Gaze lifting, brightness of his blues darkened by a hedonistic hunger, he rests his hands at the tuck of your waist and yanks you into the firm pillar of his body; pivoting, he traps you with his weight against the weather-coarsened trunk.

Arms reflexively slotting round his neck, you squeak in surprise at the swiftness of the movement.

At the sound, the creases around his mouth dimple in a broader suggestive smile. “Us,” he growls, “this.” He leans in to ravish you with a kiss; the indelicate demands of tongue and teeth asserting he’s reached a cosmic peak of emotional and physical frustration.

You yield to the crush of his vessel, melting as he stiffens, the hardness of his cock pressing your belly through the restriction of fabric.

“Cas-” You tear your mouth from his with a sharp gasp, twisting your head sideways to speak as he continues to nuzzle your cheek with the scruff of his chin, a cavalcade of kisses wandering along the angle of your jaw and to your neck where his teeth graze the sensitive skin overlying your pulse point– “Sam and Dean might hear.”

“Hmm-” Calloused hands roam up and down your sides; one slides to squeeze your ass, the other snakes under the cotton of your dress, the caress drifting between your thighs to rub your unclothed and soaking sex. His growl renews, exhaled breath thrumming hot over your flesh to flutter your heart, at the discovery you wear no panties– “you’re right, they might.” Releasing his attention from the love-seared spot of reddening skin beneath your ear, he murmurs, “Let them.”

“Are-are you sure?” you ask, a breathless rasp of eagerness and apprehension. You bury a hand between you, deftly unbuckling his belt and shoving down slackened trousers to free him and leaving no question in his mind as to how you feel at the prospect.

Removing his fingers from your slick, pushing your dress to bunch up at your waist, intent to take you clear, his palms round the supple swell of your hips. Nudging a knee between yours to spread you open, using the tree for balance to leverage your legs around him, he lifts you off the ground with a grunt not from effort, but anticipation. The sink of his cock into your silken slit serves answer as to his absolute certainty.

It’s been too long for sentiment and tenderness to prevail; giving you mere milliseconds to adjust, he sets a punishing pace with the piston of his hips.

The sting of bark abrading your spine fades to oblivion in the deep plunge and shallow drag of his length filling you over and over. There’s no slow burn – bliss coils in your belly, every nerve ending ignited by a fuse of explosive ecstasy. Nails clawing at his nape, thighs trembling beneath the bite of his fingertips, a cry of – “Castiel!” – coalesces in your throat amid the wreckage of whimpers and moans bursting therein.

Tilting his hips for a final brutal thrust, punctuating the exertion with a reverberant groan, bliss breaks over your body, sweeping the seraph along in shuddering pleasure. Limp in his bracing arms, urgency of longing placated, he holds your spent frame snug; grip tender and less bruising than the lovemaking, he lavishes the lulling pound of the pulse at your throat with nips and kisses until he softens and slips from your sex.

Insatiable, squirming in his embrace, you murmur a moan at the emptiness.

Stifling the dissatisfied noise with a sluggishly sweet kiss, he lets your legs slide lax. Supporting you with an arm slung round the waist, allowing your sensually scorched senses the opportunity to reacquaint themselves with your feet, he tidies you both and tucks himself and the rumpled shirt back into his trousers.

Unable to stymy the smitten smirk adorning your pinkly-flushed features, shaking and brushing out the wrinkles of your disheveled dress, smoothing a few stray wisps of hair behind your ear, you catch the angel by the hand and look toward the brouhaha of Sam shouting on the lake shore where Dean is evidently reeling in something of massive proportions.

Castiel’s regard locks on the bruising crimson of the hickey ornamenting the bared slope of your neck. Before, he would have erased all marks of passion from your body. Now, pleasure over the visible declaration of devotion – not healing grace – wells to affect a self-assured smile in the upward camber of his lips. Weaving his fingers to fit through yours, reaffirming with a squeeze his relinquishment of all secrecy from your brothers, he stoops to pick up the picnic basket.

Urging him into motion with a tug, you stumble onward in the dreamy drunken afterglow of delight.

Past mistakes, the inevitable future ones, asking you to stay silent for so long out of a misplaced protective and, as he’ll soon find out because Sam and Dean have known for months about you two, unfounded fear, the seraph harbors regret for a lot of things – loving you isn’t, and never will be one of them, and it’s no secret he wants everyone to know.

[monicawoe]

Supernatural fic masterlist

(updated 12/20/2020)

I’ve written over 100 spn fics (ranging from ficlets to 70k big-bangs). Most of them are Sam-centric, largely featuring powers!Sam. The whole collection can be found here on AO3

newest fics:

Closer Than You Think - Five times Sam’s eyes were demonic, and one time they weren’t. (3k words, boyKingSam AUs of multiple eps)

Behold the Beast, Behold the Lamb - Season 4 AU.  Sam tried to free Dean from Hell, but angels intervened and took Dean for their own purposes. Sam is determined to get Dean back and will do whatever it takes, embracing his abilities fully. The more demon blood Sam drinks, the more demons he kills, the more he changes inside and out until it’s impossible to hide his monstrous side. Ruby, Uriel and Castiel push Sam to fulfill his destiny and become his true self—the Beast of the Revelation. (gen, Sam/Ruby, 20k words; featuring art by @quickreaver​)

Hellbound - Sam is in Hell, and then he isn't. He's standing on a sidewalk with a stranger looking back at him—a stranger that has his face. My 2020 spn-summergen fic! Featuring soulless!Sam, disembodied soul-Sam and amnesiac Dean. (gen, 8k)

Sin Eater - Sam has a different plan to cure demon Dean, but Dean doesn't want to be cured. (Sam drinking blood from demon!Dean, written for @quickreaver​ for her artwork Bitumen Kiss)

Best Self - written for @alyndra9​​  for the prompt: King of Hell Sam meets Kale!Sam and they have many differences of opinion to work out. (aka the only one who knows what Sam really wants is Sam.) words by monicawoe banner by @quickreaver​​! (~4k words, Sam/Sam)

All You Have Is Your Fire - written for @quickreaver​ for the 2020 Supernatural Spring Fling  Dean has known fire all his life. Sometimes it sounds like his brother. (~2k words; gen)

Tear You Apart - written for @wetsammywinchester​ who wanted Soulless!Sam/Brady & Soulless!Sam taking on the mantle of King of Hell:  Sam doesn’t want his soul back. He resurrects Brady who helps him figure out a way to outsmart Death: by damaging his soul so it can’t be reintegrated. With Brady’s help, Sam reclaims his power, and takes his soul apart one piece at a time. (8k words; Soulless!Sam/Brady)

Prayers Answered - written for the boy king Sam discord server prompt: Sam has grown up in a very religious environment. He's devoted, he goes to church, he prays. He knows that God is with him, because he listens to his prayers. But as Sam grows older, he realizes it's not God that's been listening. And he realizes that he's not asking - he's been ordering, and his loyal servants would never deny their King. (2k words; gen)

On His Head a Crown - written for the 2019-2020 SWBB, art by @slytherkins​ Hunters drug Sam, force-feed him demon blood, and bring him to where they’ve captured Brady. Brady tells Sam he knows how to stop the Apocalypse, and Sam, despite his better judgment, hears him out: Sam himself is the horsemen Conquest—aka the Antichrist—and he alone can bring Lucifer’s apocalypse to a grinding halt. Sam resists, but when he discovers the good he can do with his new powers, he decides to use them to atone for all his past mistakes.   (21k, Sam/Brady, gen, AU of 5x03-5x04)

Many more under the cut

Lakeside Fishing - written for @denugis​ - After defeating Famine, after days of suffering through demon blood withdrawal in the panic room, Sam needs time to clear his head. Early in the morning, he heads to a small lake seeking solitude, but instead finds an unexpected ally. (4k words; Sam/Patrick; set after My Bloody Valentine; witch!Sam)

His Soul to Keep - art by @sketchydean​​ - written for the SPN Eldritch Bang horror event - Dean’s deal is coming due soon. When he finds out from Ruby that Hell will turn him into a demon, he refuses to accept it, even though he can already feel pieces of his soul starting to crumble away. Sam is his only anchor to the world, and Dean finds it harder and harder to leave his side.    After Broward County, after watching Dean die a thousand deaths, Sam decides he’s not going to let Dean go to Hell. He’ll do whatever it takes, even if that means allying himself with Ruby and using the darkness inside of him. Sam casts a soul-binding spell on Dean; they might not be able to break the deal, but they can change who Dean’s soul belongs to. (13k, Sam/Dean, hard-gen, AU of season 3))

Last Drop - art by @quickreaver​ -written for the Twisted Tropes event - Sam/Brady AU set while Sam’s at Stanford:  Sam is slowly adjusting to his new life at Stanford University. He’s left his life of hunting behind, and traded it for endless studying and tests, but he’s plagued by dreams of Dean and Dad in danger, dreams of blood and violence. Then he meets Tyson Brady, who’s always there with a smile and a cup of coffee to get Sam through all-nighters. Sam’s dreams start to fade, but just as he’s getting used to a nice normal life, he starts to develop abilities—powers he can’t control. Brady thinks they’re great, but Sam knows power never comes without a cost. (14k, Sam/Brady)

Make Angels of Us All - art by @amberdreams1960​  - Sam has a guardian angel. It’s been with him his whole life, trying to keep him safe. The angel gives Sam power he can’t control: power to move things with his mind, power over fire, and wings that nobody else can see—bony and jagged with scaly feathers. Dean says monsters aren't real, but Dad thinks they are. Sam's power scares him, and he’s not always sure what's real, but what he does know is people keep trying to kill the three of them, and he won't let that happen. (~20K, gen)

Burdens, Doublefold - cowritten with @quickreaver​, art by ileliberte What if Dean left Sam at Stanford after the fire, hoping it would keep his little brother safe and make things better? Somehow, 'better' never seems to be in the Winchester Family cards. Sam gets tangled up with his ex-roommate Brady, tracking psychics, but dealing with demons is never honest business. Dean carries on until his father is put in grave danger. He is left on his own to deal, stumbling into Harvelle's Roadhouse for help, where Dean gets just a little more than he bargained for. Eventually, the brothers’ paths twist and turn their way back to each other, but the results could mean the End of Days. (67k, gen, AU of seasons 1-2)

Before the One You Serve When Dean comes to get Sam at Stanford, he finds him living with Brady. And Dean doesn't trust Brady, even though he can't quite put his finger on why. Not at first. (5k, Sam/Brady)

He Who Fights Monsters - cowritten with nwspaprtaxis, art by @quickreaver​ AU of the summer between Seasons 3 and 4. Dean's dead, dragged down kicking and screaming to Hell. Sam's not dealing well. And Ruby’s got her work cut out for her. (52K, Sam/Ruby)

John Winchester is Dead They say those Winchester boys're crazy. Drive around in a big black beast and drink too much and laugh about mean things. They say their daddy's worse, but you never see him. He's just a voice on the other end of the phone or a darker shape in the back seat of their dark car. They say John Winchester died two years ago. (2k, gen, horror)

Breathing, Talking, Dead Man Walking   -  John Doe, male, approximately thirty-seven years old. Subject was found by EMTs in close proximity to the site of a sizable explosion in Lebanon, Kansas. (2k, gen, Sam & Dean)

Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea - featuring art by @quickreaver​ When Sam opened Lucifer’s Cage, the only thing he found inside was Lucifer’s grace – his grace. With the return of his grace, Sam remembered his past – his war against the Host, his Fall, and his plans to bring about the End. The thing is…he doesn’t want the Apocalypse anymore. He likes things the way they are, and tries everything to keep his identity a secret- especially from Dean. Of course, the four Horsemen, Hell and Heaven have other ideas. (13K, gen)

The Last Days in the Land of Nod - comic adaptation by @quickreaver​ The year is 2014. The Devil is wearing his finest, the Angel is human, and the Brother protects the survivors at Camp Chitaqua.

The Two Ravens - art by @quickreaver​ Your brother he is, and heir to my throne. He’ll feed on the damned and he'll turn them to bone. (4k; fairy-tale)

Counteroffer About two weeks after Sam gutted a hellhound, completing the first trial, he started acting weird. (5k, psychological horror, gore)

Pattern Recognition: A Hannibal/Supernatural fusion AU  -  Sam and Dean split after River Pass, and their confrontation with the Horseman, War. Since Will’s escape from the Baltimore Institute for the Criminally Insane, he and Sam have been in hiding. They have a cabin, in the middle of nowhere, that keeps them off the radar; they find comfort in each other. But they can’t stay off the chessboard forever, especially not when Lucifer, wearing Hannibal Lecter as a vessel, is tearing the world apart around them. (33k, Sam Winchester/Will Graham)

Impala's Run - cowritten with @quickreaver, art by adrenalineshots Sam and Dean Singer (aka Winchester) aren’t your average young Kansas farmers. Their home is very, very far from Kansas, in fact. Many light-years worth of ‘far’. The boys may look human, but certain talents set them apart: Dean speaks the language of machines, and Sam can heal through manipulating energy. Hidden on Earth by their father, their agricultural lifestyle gets rocked when warring alien races discover where they’ve landed, and Sam and Dean are forced to make the run of their lives. (23k, gen)

All Our Wrath and Cutting Beauty - art by @quickreaver - Sam killed Alistair, but not before Alistair reminded Dean of who and what he’d become in Hell. Dean knows Sam can take down Lilith, and he’ll make damn sure Sam gets strong enough to do just that. They’ll stop the Apocalypse – together, no matter how many bodies stack up, or how much blood is spilt.(11k, horror) 

Diary of a Madman -Lydia’s newest patient, Sam Winchester, suffered from hallucinations, delusions, and regular bouts of insomnia. He also thought he was Lucifer. (4k, gen, horror)

Some other bundled links, for your convenience

Demon-blood Sam

King of Hell Sam

Powers!Sam

Horror

Crossovers & Fusion ‘verses

Hannibal|SPN

SPN/Preacher

SPN/Hannibal/MCU

[idabbleincrazy]

AotM readers, need your opinion...

Could really use some help narrowing down which 3 snippets to submit to WIP Big Bang for artists claims, can’t decide which ones will best draw interest from the artists.

Will post my potentials below the cut.

Snippet One

Christa woke up to the feeling of warmth against her back. As she pulled herself out of the fog of sleep, she recalled the events of the night before. After she and Gabriel had finally confessed their feelings, they had spent the entire night showing each other exactly how loved they were. Gabriel had taken his time, worshiping every inch of skin, committing to memory every reaction, every sound she made. She had lost count of the number of orgasms Gabriel had worked her through, his angelic stamina making recovery time almost unnecessary. Every nerve of her body sung in response to the slightest touch, warmth spreading through her from every point of contact. When they were both thoroughly sated, Christa promptly curled up in Gabriel’s arms, wanting as little space between them as possible, and fell asleep.

Christa blushed as the images flashed through her mind. She was torn between the stirrings of desire and her debilitating self-esteem issues that were once again pushing their way to the front of her mind. She still couldn’t wrap her head around the fact that Gabriel loved her. Her heartbeat sped up as she worried her lip.

A hand running along her arm startled her from her thoughts, as the arm Gabriel had wrapped around her waist pulled her flush against him, his nose brushing against her neck. “Morning, sweetheart. You okay? Your heartbeat is running a mile a minute.” He nuzzled into her further and placed a gentle kiss on her shoulder.

Christa sighed and relaxed into his touch. “Oh, yeah, I’m fine. Just…over-thinking things, again.”

Gabriel’s free hand ran back up her arm and stroked her cheek. He stretched out a finger and placed it under her chin, tilting her face up towards him. He stared into her eyes, a calm smile on his face, silently nudging her to continue.

“I’m just still trying to process the fact that you, you want me. That you love me. I-I’m not entirely convinced that this whole thing hasn’t been some crazy fever-dream. I’m afraid that any moment now, I’ll wake up, in my own bed, alone.”

Gabriel’s smile slid slightly at her words, feeling the emotions rolling off of her in waves. He could feel how deep her worry ran, disbelief and fear tinging the corners of her mind. His Grace thrummed at this realization, reaching out for her in response. He held it back, barely. He couldn’t let his Grace just do the work for him. He needed to show Christa her true worth on his own, the way a human would. He took one of her hands and placed a kiss on her palm.

“How can I convince you that you really are awake? That last night really happened? Should I…pinch you?” The arm he had around her waist snaked up and gently tweaked her sheet-covered nipple, causing Christa to let out a surprised squeal.

“Should I tickle you?” He smiled down at her as he sought out sensitive skin, not stopping till a peal of laughter rang out from his human. He could feel her nerves starting to relax, but the taint of fear still lingered. He untangled himself from her and laid her back against the pillows, pulling himself up on an elbow. Staring down at her, he traced a finger along her jaw, up to her earlobe, and down her neck and along her side.

Snippet Two

Soulmates! They. Were. Soulmates. How was that possible? How was that a real thing? And wasn’t it just Christa’s luck that her soulmate was a freaking Angel; and not just any old angel, oh no, an Archangel! A top-tier, celestial being, just a step below Chuck himself. Sure, she knew she was falling hard for the golden-eyed feather-brain; but it was another thing altogether to find out it was literally Fated, planned out by especially God. Did she even have a choice? What happened to free will?

Her head began pounding as her thoughts swirled. She took a deep breath and tried to fight back the wave of anxiety she felt starting to rise within her. Christa had been so happy last night. Why did this have to happen? If she hadn’t been so stubbornly set against believing he could feel the same way she did, would he even have shown her the truth? Would he have just kept stringing her along, forever, letting her believe it was his choice to be with her, not destiny? Maybe it would have been better that way, staying blind to the truth, basking in the glow of his forced love.

The way she had felt with him last night, she had never felt with anyone she had ever met. She had never felt so secure, so safe. No one she had ever been with had made her feel like she could trust them with her life. Heck, none of her relationships had even lasted more than a few months, even before she had become a hunter. Even if the sex had been great, she would soon realize there was little to nothing that she had in common with the person. Some of them had become good friends, some like family.

Take Sam, for instance; when Christa had first met the Winchesters, she had found herself inexplicably drawn to the tall, dark-haired hunter. They had ended up going on a couple of dates, even shared a kiss or two, but something about it had seemed, well, off. Luckily, they had both realized that before ending up in one or the others bed. Made it less awkward to just go back to being hunting partners. Eventually, she began to just see him as as much of a brother to her as Dean, though there was still some odd tug she would feel every now and then. Christa had felt one of those tugs the other day, when Sam had hugged her good-bye.

She sighed, her head in her hands as she sat against the door. All this time, she had thought her failed relationships had been due to the deep-rooted fear of rejection she’d had ever since she had gotten attacked by the werewolf that had left her neck badly scarred. Though, if Christa looked back, really looked, she knew it went back way before the day she stumbled upon the supernatural. Even back in high school, the other kids had never been more than a passing fancy. She’d felt love, sure. But never the type of love that made her heart flutter every time she thought of the person. The type of love that made her breath catch in her throat when she looked at them. None of that had ever happened until Gabriel.

Snippet Three

Christa set the mug on the counter and picked up the jar, running her fingers over the ribbon around it; she hadn’t noticed it there before. There was a tag attached to the ribbon. She opened it and read the two simple words written there in a beautiful flowing script.

I’m sorry

Christa sighed heavily and twisted the cap open to give it a sniff. The jelly smelled like a mixture of raspberry and currant, along with something she couldn’t quite place. She placed the cap back on and put the jar in the fridge, grabbing the creamer and went over to the coffee machine. After she made herself a cup, she hesitated. She pinched the bridge of her nose, fighting back the headache that had been pushing at the back of her skull for the past hour. She went and grabbed another mug and fixed a cup for Gabriel.

Walking out of the kitchen, she sent out a timid prayer to the Archangel. Gabriel, you can come out now. I’m in the library. She went and sat at one of the desks, her gaze fixed wistfully at the leather chairs as she waited for Gabriel to make his way down the hall. Staring at the chairs, the scene of last night’s mutual confession of love replayed in her mind. So much had happened in such a short time; last night seemed like a year ago. Christa shook her head to clear it as Gabriel hesitated in the doorway.

“You can come sit down, I made you a cup of coffee. Consider it a peace offering for the way I ran out on you.” She nodded him over to the table, sliding his mug over to the chair across from her. She was wary of making physical contact again just yet. “I’m sorry I freaked out like that.”

Gabriel sat down and took a sip of the coffee. He wanted so badly to reach out and take her hand in his but he could feel her anxiety rolling over in waves. He didn’t want to scare her off again. “Thanks, Sugar. Just the way I like it. Christa, look, there’s no reason for you to be sorry about all…this. I should have gone about this whole soulmate thing differently. I shouldn’t have just shown you all of that without any warning.”

Christa looked down into her coffee, her hands wrapping tighter around the ceramic to stifle the urge to grab his hand. Here he was, apologizing for something that wasn’t even his fault; not really. “Gabriel, it’s okay. Ha, looks like neither of us handled this right. I should have given you the chance to explain what you showed me. I was just, so…shocked. I mean, finding out that soulmates are a real thing? I still can’t wrap my head around it. Not fully, anyway.”

She sighed and set the mug down on the table before looking Gabriel in the eye. She chewed her bottom lip and released a nervous chuckle before continuing. “Maybe, Gabriel, do you think maybe you could answer some questions about all this? If I understood this whole thing a bit better, then I could start to process it all. I don’t want to give up on us, I just need…” sigh “I don’t know what I need actually. I just know that I can’t walk away from you, I don’t even want to try.”

“Sweetheart, whatever questions you have, if I can answer them, I will.” Gabriel gave her a hopeful smile, hoping she could feel at least some of his love through their connection. “Christa, even if we weren’t soulmates, I would still love you. I’ve loved you for months now, way before our touch started the bonding process. I just had forgotten, after so many eons, that my soulmate was somewhere out there. I just got lucky that mine just so happened to be someone I was already crazy about.”

Christa’s eyes widened at his admission. “So, wait. How I felt about you, that wasn’t just because I’m your soulmate? It wasn’t just…Fate pulling me to you?”

Snippet Four

“Pie!” Dean rubbed his hands together, grinning like a child as Christa cut an extra large slice for him. He scooped up a forkful as soon as she set down his plate, grunting in approval as he chewed. “‘S excellent, Chritha.”

“Dean, gross. Could you not talk with your mouth full?” Sam shook his head at his brother as he accepted his plate from Christa with a grin. “Well, looks like it’s got the Dean Winchester stamp of approval. Thanks, Christa, Gabriel. You guys out did yourselves tonight.”

“Well, there’s kind of a reason for that. After you guys finish eating, there’s something we need to talk about.”

Christa sat down and took a bite of her pie, avoiding the three sets of eyes watching her in various states of confusion. Castiel was the first to look away, turning his glance to Gabriel instead. Dean soon gave up and went back to eating his pie. Sam, on the other hand, kept casting looks over at her as he ate. The room was quiet except for the clinking of silverware on ceramic. All too soon, plates were cleared and snapped away. The Winchesters looked over at you expectantly; Castiel still stared at Gabriel, eyes narrowed as if channeling x-ray vision.

“Okay, Christa, what’s so big that you felt the need to butter us up with all this before telling us about it?” Dean leaned back in his chair and his patented Concerned Big Brother frown marred his features.

Christa sighed, her hand snaking under the table, seeking out Gabriel’s. He ran his thumb over the back of her hand, the motion grounding her as she cleared her throat to speak. “Well, uh, there’s no easy way to say this…it turns out soulmates? They’re real. Turns out, everyone’s got one. And it just so happens that Gabriel’s mine.”

Christa grimaced as she waited for them to respond. Dean was unexpectedly calm, his eyebrow raised in surprise. A look of clarity and understanding dawned on Castiel’s face as the information sunk in. Sam was by far the most shocked by the news. His expression was somewhere between utterly dumbfounded and mortified. His face paled and his jaw went slack.

“Well, somebody say something. The girl just dropped a bombshell, and you’re all silent as the grave.” Gabriel furrowed his eyebrows in confusion at their reactions. “Maybe we broke them.”

“You didn’t break us, Halo. Look, I’m not exactly happy that you’re the one who ended up being Christa’s soulmate, but I know there’s nothing I can do about it.” Dean heaved a resigned sigh and looked over at Cas. “Guess we might as well let them know now.”

Let us know what? Dean, why are you not more shocked by the fact that soulmates exist? Brother, did you tell him already?”

“Gabriel, brother, Dean is my soulmate. We bonded years ago.”

”What the hell, Dean? You knew about soulmates, and you never thought to share with the class?” Sam finally spoke, his shock slowly turning to anger. “You’d think you would at least share the fact that you have a freaking angel for a soulmate, with your own brother of all people! Were you ever going to say something?”

Snippet Five (Smut)

Christa’s hands gripped at his neck and shoulder, tugging at the end of his honeyed locks. She could feel the euphoria building up in the bond again, and fought to keep her head clear. She didn’t want it to be over too soon. She let her head fall back against the pillows, her hands sliding down to roam over his torso, the feeling of his skin beneath her fingers grounding her.

Gabriel felt her intentions through the bond, and, eager to draw it out as long as possible himself, slowed his thrusts while keeping them just as deep. He could sense a question forming in her mind and quirked an eyebrow at her.

“What’s going in there, sweets? Talk to me.”

Christa hesitated before answering, worrying her lip between her teeth. “Could you…can I see your wings?”

“You want to see my wings?” Gabriel’s eyes widened. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but this was a surprise.

“I mean, as your Soulmate, I should be able to see them without my eyes burning out, right? And, well, I’m curious. You don’t have to if it’s too soon…”

Gabriel cut off her sentence with a kiss, rolling his hips as he did. She squealed into the kiss, her back arching off the bed. He trailed a path of kisses to her ear, nipping at her earlobe, his breath ghosting over her.

“Close your eyes, Sugar.”

Gabriel sat up, making sure her eyes were completely shut before focusing his Grace. He let his primary set of wings pull through to the earthly plane. A bright flash of blue light lit up the room for a couple of seconds as his wings unfurled around him, tips brushing against the walls. When the light dimmed down, he reached out a hand to caress Christa’s cheek.

“You can open them now.”

Christa opened her eyes slowly, gasping loudly as she took in the sight above her. They were beautiful. A tear stung at her eye as she tried to remember how to breathe. She started to reach a hand towards them but hesitated, unsure.

“Can…can I touch them?”

Gabriel nodded, a smile beaming across his face as he angled his wings closer to her. She ran her fingers through the golden feathers of his right wing, momentarily speechless. Christa let her mind speak for her in the bond. They’re beautiful, Gabriel. Just like you.

“I’m glad you think so, you’re the first human who’s ever seen them.” Gabriel’s wings fluttered happily at her compliment.

Christa swallowed and found her voice. “I thought Archangel’s had six wings?”

“We do. I didn’t want to test the bond too much just yet.” Gabriel’s eyes closed as her fingers continued their journey over the wing, a purr-like rumble vibrating through his chest.

“Hmm, you like that, Angel?” Christa smiled up him coyly; when he nodded she let out a soft chuckle and delved deeper through the honey-colored feathers. “How about…this?”

Her fingers ran down his wing, noting how the shades of yellow varied from a bright gold to a rich butterscotch color nearing caramel the closer she got to where wing met flesh. She was mesmerized by the combination of the sounds she drew from him and the soft down beneath her fingertips. Gabriel had resumed thrusting into to her slowly, a soft sheen of sweat beading on his skin from the effort of his restraint. Christa wrapped her arms around his torso, clutching at the feathers near his shoulder blades, caught up in the emotions flowing through the bond.

“Oh, fuck! Ahh!” Gabriel thrust deeply into her, his head thrown back and his eyes screwed shut.

“What?! Did I hurt you?” Christa let go of his wings immediately, eyes wide with worry.

Gabriel looked down at her, eyes glowing, and shook his head. “No, Sugar. Felt so fucking good. Don’t stop, cupcake, please don’t fucking stop!”

Christa let her fingers smooth back through his feathers, giving a testing tug. He moaned and resumed thrusting into her, letting out little tendrils of Grace along her skin. He knew he wouldn’t last much longer with her touching him like that and needed to make sure she’d be right there with him when he came.

------------

Any opinions on which three i should use, or even if there’s a better scene (of at least 500 words) i should include, would be greatly appreciated. I really want this story to appeal to at least one artist out there. I’m really nervous that either there won’t be any artists in the fandom taking part in this bang, or that none of them will choose my fic in the first round of claims and that it’ll just end up being that kid who gets picked last for sports...

[sagarbiswas]

#MAR #MAKAUT #lockdownactivities #MandatoryAdditionalRequirements Name of Activity: Review a Movie Name of the Movie: Interstellar

My Review: To infinity and beyond goes “Interstellar,” an exhilarating slalom through the wormholes of Christopher Nolan’s vast imagination that is at once a science-geek fever dream and a formidable consideration of what makes us human. As visually and conceptually audacious as anything Nolan has yet done, the director’s ninth feature also proves more emotionally accessible than his coolly cerebral thrillers and Batman movies, touching on such eternal themes as the sacrifices parents make for their children (and vice versa) and the world we will leave for the next generation to inherit. An enormous undertaking that, like all the director’s best work, manages to feel handcrafted and intensely personal, “Interstellar” reaffirms Nolan as the premier big-canvas storyteller of his generation, more than earning its place alongside “The Wizard of Oz,” “2001,” “Close Encounters of the Third Kind” and “Gravity” in the canon of Hollywood’s visionary sci-fi head trips. Global box office returns should prove suitably rocket-powered.

We begin somewhere in the American farm belt, which Nolan evokes for its full mythic grandeur — blazing sunlight, towering corn stalks, whirring combines. But it soon becomes clear that this would-be field of dreams is something closer to a nightmare. The date is an unspecified point shortly, close enough to look and feel like tomorrow, yet far enough for several radical changes to have taken hold in society. A decade on from a period of widespread famine, the world’s armies have been disbanded and the cutting-edge technocracies of the early 21st century have regressed into more utilitarian, farm-based economies.

“We’re a caretaker generation,” notes one such homesteader (John Lithgow) to his widower son-in-law, Cooper (Matthew McConaughey), a former NASA test pilot who hasn’t stopped dreaming of flight, for himself and for his children: 15-year-old son Tom (Timothee Chalamet) and 10-year-old daughter Murphy (Mackenzie Foy), the latter a precocious tot was first seen getting suspended from school for daring to suggest that the Apollo space missions actually happened. “We used to look up in the sky and wonder about our place in the stars,” Cooper muses. “Now we just look down and wonder about our place in the dirt.”

And oh, what dirt! As “Interstellar” opens, the world — or at least Cooper’s Steinbeckian corner of it — sits on the cusp of a second Dust Bowl, ravaged by an epidemic of crop blight, a silt-like haze hanging permanently in the air. (Some of this scene-setting is accomplished via pseudo-documentary interviews with the elderly residents of some more distant future reflecting on their hardscrabble childhoods, which Nolan films like the “witness” segments from Warren Beatty’s “Reds.”) And as the crops die, so the Earth’s atmosphere becomes richer in nitrogen and poorer in oxygen, until the time when global starvation will give way to global asphyxiation.

But all hope is not lost. NASA (whose massive real-life budget cuts lend the movie added immediacy) still exists in this agrarian dystopia, but it’s gone off the grid, far from the microscope of public opinion. There, the brilliant physicist Professor Brand (Michael Caine, forever the face of avuncular wisdom in Nolan’s films) and his dedicated team have devised two scenarios for saving mankind. Both plans involve abandoning Earth and starting over on a new, life-sustaining planet, but only one includes taking Earth’s current 6-billion-plus population along for the ride. Doing the latter, it seems, depends on Brand’s ability to solve an epic math problem that would explain how such a large-capacity vessel could surmount Earth’s gravitational forces. (Never discussed in this egalitarian society: a scenario in which only the privileged few could escape, a la the decadent bourgeoisie of Neill Blomkamp’s “Elysium.”)

Many years earlier, Brand informs, a mysterious space-time rift (or wormhole) appeared in the vicinity of Saturn, seemingly placed there, like the monoliths of “2001,” by some higher intelligence. On the other side: another galaxy containing a dozen planets that might be fit for human habitation. In the wake of the food wars, a team of intrepid NASA scientists traveled there in search of solutions. Now, a decade later (in Earth years, that is), Brand has organized another mission to check up on the three planets that seem the most promising for human settlement. And to pilot the ship, he needs Cooper, an instinctive flight jockey in the Chuck Yeager mode, much as McConaughey’s laconic, effortlessly self-assured performance recalls Sam Shepards as Yeager in “The Right Stuff” (another obvious “Interstellar” touchstone).

Already by this point — and we have not yet left the Earth’s surface — “Interstellar” (which Nolan co-wrote with his brother and frequent collaborator, Jonathan) has hurled a fair amount of theoretical physics at the audience, including discussions of black holes, gravitational singularities and the possibility of extra-dimensional space. And, as with the twisty chronologies and unreliable narrators of his earlier films, Nolan trusts in the audience’s ability to get the gist and follow along, even if it doesn’t glean every last nuance on first viewing. It’s hard to think of a mainstream Hollywood film that has so successfully translated complex mathematical and scientific ideas to a lay audience (though Shane Carruth’s ingenious 2004 Sundance winner “Primer” — another movie concerned with overcoming the problem of gravity — tried something similar on a micro-budget indie scale), or done so in more vivid, immediate human terms. (Some credit for this is doubtless owed to the veteran CalTech physicist Kip Thorne, who consulted with the Nolans on the script and receives an executive producer credit.)

The mission itself is a relatively intimate affair, comprised of Cooper, Brand’s own scientist daughter (Anne Hathaway), two other researchers (Wes Bentley and the excellent David Gyasi), and a chatty, sarcastic, ex-military security robot called TARS (brilliantly voiced by Bill Irwin in a sly nod to Douglas Rain’s iconic HAL 9000), which looks like a walking easel but proves surprisingly agile when the going gets tough. And from there, “Interstellar” has so many wonderful surprises in store — from casting choices to narrative twists and reversals — that the less said about it the better. (Indeed, if you really don’t want to know anything more, read no further.)

It gives nothing away, however, to say that Nolan maps his infinite celestial landscape as majestically as he did the continent-hopping earthbound ones of “The Prestige” and “Batman Begins,” or the multi-tiered memory maze of “Inception.” The imagery, modeled by Nolan and cinematographer Hoyte Van Hoytema on Imax documentaries like “Space Station” and “Hubble 3D,” suggests a boundless inky blackness punctuated by ravishing bursts of light, the tiny spaceship Endurance gleaming like a diamond against Saturn’s great, gaseous rings, then ricocheting like a pinball through the wormhole’s shimmering plasmic vortex.

With each stop the Endurance makes, Nolan envisions yet another new world: one planet a watery expanse with waves that make Waimea Bay look like a giant bathtub; another an ice climber’s playground of frozen tundra and sheer-faced descents. Moreover, outer space allows Nolan to bend and twist his favorite subject — time — into remarkable new permutations. Where most prior Nolan protagonists were forever grasping at an irretrievable past, the crew of the Endurance races against a ticking clock that happens to tick differently depending on your particular vantage. New worlds mean new gravitational forces, so that for every hour spent on a given planet’s surface, years or even entire decades may be passing back on Earth. (Time as a flat circle, indeed.)

This leads to an extraordinary mid-film emotional climax in which Cooper and Brand return from one such expedition to discover that 23 earth years have passed in the blink of an eye, represented by two decades’ worth of stockpiled video messages from loved ones, including the now-adult Tom (a bearded, brooding Casey Affleck) and Murphy (Jessica Chastain in dogged, persistent “Zero Dark Thirty” mode). It’s a scene Nolan stages mostly in closeup on McConaughey, and the actor plays it beautifully, his face a quicksilver mask of joy, regret, and unbearable grief.

That moment signals a shift in “Interstellar” itself from the relatively euphoric, adventurous tone of the first half toward darker, more ambiguous terrain — the human shadow areas, if you will, that are as difficult to fully glimpse as the inside of a black hole. Nolan, who has always excelled at the slow reveal, catches even the attentive viewer off guard more than once here, but never in a way that feels cheap or compromises the complex motivations of the characters.

On the one hand, the movie marvels at the brave men and women throughout history who have dedicated themselves, often at great peril, to the greater good of mankind. On the other, because Nolan is a psychological realist, he’s acutely aware of the toil such lives may take on those who choose to lead them, and that even “the best of us” (as one character is repeatedly described) might not be immune from cowardice and moral compromise. Some people lie to themselves and to their closest confidants in “Interstellar,” and Nolan understands that everyone has his reasons. Others compensate by making the most selfless of sacrifices. Perhaps the only thing trickier than quantum physics, the movie argues, is the nature of human emotion.

Nolan stages one thrilling set piece after another, including several hairsbreadth escapes and a dazzling space-docking sequence in which the entire theater seems to become one large centrifuge; the nearly three-hour running time passes unnoticed. Even more thrilling is the movie’s ultimate vision of a universe in which the face of extraterrestrial life bears a surprisingly familiar countenance. “Do not go gentle into that good night/Rage, rage against the dying of the light,” harks the good Professor Brand at the start of the Endurance’s journey, quoting the melancholic Welshman Dylan Thomas. And yet “Interstellar” is finally a film suffused with light and boundless possibilities — those of the universe itself, of the wonder in a child’s twinkling eyes, and of movies to translate all that into spectacular picture shows like this one.

It’s hardly surprising that “Interstellar” reps the very best big-budget Hollywood craftsmanship at every level, from veteran Nolan collaborators like production designer Nathan Crowley (who built the film’s lyrical vision of the big-sky American heartland on location in Alberta) and sound designer/editor Richard King, who makes wonderfully dissonant contrasts between the movie’s interior spaces and the airless silence of space itself. VFX supervisor Paul Franklin (an Oscar winner for his work on “Inception”) again brings a vivid tactility to all of the film’s effects, especially the robotic TARS, who seamlessly inhabits the same physical spaces as the human actors. Hans Zimmer contributes one of his most richly imagined and inventive scores, which ranges from a gentle electronic keyboard melody to brassy, Strauss-ian crescendos. Shot and post-produced by Nolan entirely on celluloid (in a mix of 35mm and 70mm stocks), “Interstellar” begs to be seen on the large-format Imax screen, where its dense, inimitably filmic textures and multiple aspect ratios can be experienced to their fullest effect.

[impandagrl]

In Honor Of Someone’s Birthday

No, not … well sure, I guess it could be for Sam’s birthday too. This is primarily for @niamandthings‘ birthday.

It is mostly a re-write of a few scenes from 8x22 and 8x23

A/N If you are Niam/Bridget- when you get to the middle and are questioning why I would subject you to this, I ask that you trust me. This is my “how it should have ended” for you.

A/N If you are a fan of Crowley- you probably won’t enjoy this. Sorry, this is for Niam. (If you ask nicely I’ll write you a story where ‘Crowley kills Lucifer and Dean thanks him for being his bff and when Crowley says “What about Cas?” Dean answers “Who?” and they go out to a karaoke bar or something’ when it’s your birthday.)

Thanks so much to @seenashwrite for taking the time to beta this - especially on such short notice!

 Sam walked over to sit on the bed, trying to keep his movements and expression casual. Sarah was just as he remembered her, how she appeared in his mind’s eye when he’d let himself picture what his life - their life - could’ve been. She was so strong, processing everything they had told her with such grace as if being threatened by the king of hell was something she dealt with every day.

 One thing was different, though. He’d noticed it immediately and had been struggling not to bring it up ever since; he didn’t want to be that guy. It wasn’t like he had any claim on her. Now he pushed his reasoning aside, allowed himself to use it as an excuse, because she needed a distraction. And maybe because it was distracting him.

 “That’s new,” he murmured as he sat next to her. Really, Sam? ‘That’s new,’? At least he thought he’d pulled off a nonchalant tone. At any rate, it didn’t seem like she’d taken offense at the implied question.

 She tilted her left hand side to side, fingers spread so the ring caught the light.  

 “His name’s Ian. He works Search and Rescue.” Her eyes met his for a moment and her expression turned to one of amusement. “I guess I have a type.”

 She sobered slightly and Sam could see the deep love in her eyes as she told him she had a daughter, not quite one year old.

 Sam wanted to cry. Not from the loss of his fantasy, but the knowledge that the sacrifices he and his brother had made over the years were all worth it if they had allowed the sweet, strong woman in front of him a chance at a normal life and the beautiful family she deserved. The reality would keep him going once they parted ways far better than the dream ever could.

 Their soft conversation was interrupted by the shrill sound of the phone. Showtime. Sarah’s nerves were suddenly evident in how quickly she stood, reacting before either of the boys. She pulled her gun, but her hands were steady. Sam stood and positioned himself behind her.

 Dean answered the phone.

 “Crowley?” he spat, even though there was no question as to who was calling.

 The only answer on the line was the smug bastard counting down from five. At the last count, there was a brief pause before Sarah collapsed, gasping and gurgling, clutching at her throat. Sam cradled her head, talking her through it, reassuring her that everything was going to be alright. His adrenaline was spiking and he knew he was rambling, but it didn’t matter.

 Crowley was still talking. Gloating. He couldn’t resist revelling in the cleverness of his plan. So sure of himself he all but spelled out for them that there was a hex bag, they just needed to find it.

 The sound of turned-over furniture and breaking lamps hit the air as Sam started tearing apart the room, Dean catching up a second after and moving to do the same.

 Crowley kept up his monologuing, taking a moment to rub it in that he’d made certain they wouldn’t be able to complete the final trial, before moving on to the meat of his victory speech.

 Sam tried to drown out the acidic words and focus on his task, but they echoed what he’d just been thinking a moment before. The only thing that had gotten him through the self-doubt, and even self-hatred, had been the certainty that there were people out there still breathing, people for whom the supernatural was nothing but a bad dream, all because of Dean and him.

 Crowley’s attack at the core of his being was not something he was going to be able to walk away from, but that would have to wait. For now, he returned to Sarah’s side, gently clearing a strand of hair from her face.

 As her gasps for air grew quieter, her eyes were focused on his face, nothing in them but trust. Then Sarah was still, silent. Sam kept repeating the word, ‘no,’ as if it would change anything. The thought of her never breathing again made him sick, and he leaned against the wall, needing to feel something solid at his back.

 Crowley was finally wrapping up with his speech, and before he hung up, issued an ultimatum: he was going to keep coming after them - the people they’d saved - one by one unless they handed over the demon tablet and agreed to cease the trials.

 Dean threw the phone in frustration. They had to put an end to this before one more person died.

 Sam waited at the trunk of the impala, hoping it wasn’t apparent how keyed up he was as Dean walked toward him. He assumed Crowley was secured and ready for him to perform the final trial. Dean’s words confirmed it.

 “He’s primed. How you feelin’?”

 Sam focused on topping off the jar of holy water before answering. “Honestly? For the first time in a long time, it feels like we’re going to win.” He realized the words were the truth, however conflicted he felt at the moment. “I’m good.”

 He tried to focus on going over the details of the cure for Dean even though his thoughts were elsewhere. His stomach dropped as Dean began listing his suggestions for Sam’s impending confession. As close as they were, there were so many things that they tried to keep buried. All the things that were right under the surface. So many betrayals. He could only hope his brother could keep on forgiving him.

 “Thanks,” he choked, grabbing the duffle as quickly as he could and ducking his head, hoping it would cut Dean off. He must have caught the hint because he mercifully threw Sam a softball, blaming him for the Penny Marco incident. There was no way Dean had really gotten that mixed up, but Sam gratefully played along, correcting him before turning back toward the chapel.

 He didn’t pause, kept walking right past the confessional and into the sanctuary where Crowley was being held. His doubts were gone. This was the right thing to do. He’d never been more certain of anything.

 Crowley sneered as Sam approached the chained demon, stopping in front of the chair.

 “You’re here to cure me, Moose?”

 His words dripped with arrogance. The revulsion Sam felt at that moment was so strong it depleted whatever reserves of self-control he had left. He grabbed the demon’s throat with one hand, cutting off his ability to talk - or yell for Dean.

 Pulling the wickedly serrated blade out of the duffle, the thought came to mind how good it would feel to see the bastard’s face as he learned how enormous his failure really was. He could almost taste the sweet words on his tongue: ‘You idiot, did you really think we wouldn’t search the room?’

 Crowley had obviously taken the time to spy on each target before killing them, and they were betting he’d meticulously planned Sarah’s death to be his perfect “object lesson”. They had originally been looking for bugs when Dean had pried open the phone casing and they saw the hex bag. They’d carefully combed the rest of the room from top to bottom to make sure there weren’t any others and quickly decided that the best way to protect Sarah would be to make Crowley believe he’d succeeded in killing her.

 He bit his lip to keep himself in check; as satisfying as witnessing the revelation in Crowley’s dying moments would be, he refused to risk it even now. Sarah was safe. Her family was safe. And nothing from the supernatural world would haunt them ever again, not if Sam had anything to say about it.

 So he settled for revelling in the shock and horror in the demon’s eyes as the knife sliced through his expensive, tailored suit, then further as Sam plunged it into his body, twisting as he went. Then at the last second, Sam leaned forward to hiss right in Crowley’s ear:

 “This is for Sarah!”

 They would find another demon to complete the trials. Or not, it really didn’t matter right now. If they were unable to close hell, that’s what he and Dean were there for, right? He had to confess, they were pretty damn good at this sort of thing.

 He wiped the blade on his jacket. Time for a different confession. Dean was going to be pissed, but he’d just have to get over it. Sam had made this call - and it was the right one.

Um, so that was it. I hope you liked it. I didn’t want to make it too perfect- it’s Supernatural after all. Anyway, you got to figure Search & Rescue isn’t the safest profession. There’s always the chance Sam gets the call and brings her to the bunker, and Sam helps her heal, and they can raise their little girl together, hmm?