Let's Go Crazy -- Let's Get Nuts!

Wed, 09 Dec 2009 14:53:32 GMT

Title: "No Peace for the Living"
'Verse: SPN
Characters: Castiel (with brief appearances by Sam and Dean)
Rating: PG
Word Count: 928
Summary: Castiel deals with a more painful aspect of being human.
Author's Notes: Set in the aftermath of "Abandon All Hope", presuming events took place that were not shown on screen (but are detailed here.).

Specifically addresses the big spoiler for the episode - *major* angst lies under the cut.

===========================================================================
”Cas please – just go.

He’d only been trying to help. Grief had filled the space, coming off the other three in waves that threatened to drown him. He couldn’t think – couldn’t breathe under the weight of it all – and in his desperation he’d tried to offer comfort.

Dean had responded first…by throwing a full bottle of beer at his head.

It hadn’t connected, of course. Castiel’s powers were greatly diminished, but the day he couldn’t dodge something as simple as a bottle was going to be a truly bad day indeed. Sam had moved immediately to intercept his brother, restraining Dean against his chest while the latter’s cursing grew more and more incoherent.

Castiel hadn’t argued when Sam finally begged him to remove himself from the situation.

Too much emotion. It confused things. They’d been weak – sloppy – in Carthage, and two good soldiers were dead as a result. A second Horseman rode free, and as far as Castiel could determine, they had barely registered on Lucifer’s radar. Certainly the Prince of Lies didn’t consider them a threat, and Castiel knew he couldn’t exactly fault him for that.

He was afraid. Every day saw him grow more human, and his increased vulnerability was quickly becoming an issue. He didn’t want to dwell on what might have happened to him if he’d remained in Lucifer’s custody for much longer.

It was quieter on Bobby’s porch. Castiel took a deep breath, letting the worst of the tension bleed out of his physical form. Sam hadn’t specified how far away he needed Castiel to go, and the sad truth of it was that Cas wasn’t comfortable moving too far away from the little protection travelling with the brothers afforded him.

He tried to still his thoughts, intending only to wait out the worst of the grieving and the human need for sleep. Revelation was too much to hope for, but the ritual of meditation – opening himself up to the music of Creation – had continued to give him at least the semblance of peace.

Jo…

Castiel closed his eyes and bowed his head, exhaling softly. Grieving the loss of them was pointless. Tens of thousands had died in the ruin of Carthage, so Lucifer could further his goal – every one of those souls unique and precious unto God. Jo and Ellen Harvelle had at least had the honor of dying a hero’s death. God would judge them well for that.

He’d known what Jo was after that night, almost – he suspected – before she did. And if he was being perfectly honest with himself, at the time he’d been tempted. Sex was one of the Great Mysteries, after all – and he’d had far too many conversations with Dean in recent weeks about the human custom of not dying a virgin.

His intention once she followed him outside that night had been to simply remind her that he was not human – and a perfectly willing substitute existed if she chose to pursue him. Everyone in the house that night had seen their exchange in Bobby’s kitchen, and knew Dean was more than willing to forget his previous caution where Jo was concerned.

Castiel had assumed her rejection of Dean’s advances had been based on what she hoped to get from him. It had made perfect sense that once he refused her, she would turn to the human that did want her.

There had been no trace of Dean in her eyes when she kissed him.

He still couldn’t admit why he’d allowed her to stay beyond that first press of her lips against his – why he’d given in to temptation, and deepened things between them. Even now he could remember her surprise and delight when he’d taken control and pinned her against the porch railing – kissing her as thoroughly as she’d ever imagined being kissed.

Castiel realized now that somewhere between that first kiss and the second, and the urges it woke inside his human body, he had already decided he didn’t want her to go to Dean – didn’t want her anywhere but in his arms. Her joy had been infectious – filling him with its radiance, and warming his soul.

Sex between them had been a revelation all on its own – the nearest he’d come to knowing God’s love since his Fall. The memory that burned strongest for him now, however, wasn’t the fiery ecstasy of that moment of release. It was the aftermath; the feel of her in his arms as she lay against his chest, laughing and exhausted.

In that brief handful of heartbeats as they’d rested together, the world had made sense. He’d finally been at peace.

His hands clenched reflexively into fists. You are being selfish. He was falling into the human trap of dwelling on what was lost. He knew better than any of them that Jo was safe and happy now, and would remain so for all eternity. He should be happy for her.

And yet… Knowing the truth did nothing to stop the spreading ache in his chest. He would never hold her like he’d been able to hold her that night – never again hear her laughter, or smell the scent of her skin.

Cold and alone in the darkness, Castiel was overwhelmed with the desire to talk to her…learn from her – love her in ways he’d never imagined wanting to love any human. Everything he could have experienced with her and wouldn’t seemed to be piling up inside his heart; twisting the ache into real, palpable pain.

He finally understood why Dean had thrown the bottle at him.

Tonight's Dollhouse...

Sat, 05 Dec 2009 01:32:32 GMT

I FUCKING CALLED IT!!!!!!!!

Non-Faith/Dean Fic!

Fri, 04 Dec 2009 22:53:38 GMT

For apocalypsos, because she asked and because it really just had to be done.

Hope it lives up to the vision in your head. *g*

Title: A Light In The Shadows
'Verse: SPN
Characters: Jo/Castiel. Minor appearances by other SPN folk, but in this story these two are all that count.
Word Count: 1170
Rating: R
Author's Notes: Possible minor spoilers for "Abandon All Hope". Like many in SPN fandom, I jumped onto a shiny new 'ship the night the episode aired. Writing Jo and Castiel is definitely different from writing Faith/Dean - parts of this were quite a challenge for me.

========================================================================
Any hunter skilled enough to last in the business knew it was inevitable – work with someone long enough, and you started losing the need for verbal communication. Jo had first seen the phenomenon when she’d been able to run with Sam and Dean. She didn’t know if her maternal bond with Ellen had brought them along faster or not – but she did know that in moments like this she would have traded all of it for a little more emotional distance.

Mom knowing you’re planning on stalking and screwing the holy hell out of the guy you just met is bad enough. Mom letting her know what she thought of that plan without having to say a word just reset the bar on “awkward”.

Jo took another long pull from her bottle – deliberately letting herself get distracted from Ellen’s maternal warning glares by Sam, who had just lurched up from his chair and put himself in Dean’s path. Drama, drama everywhere, she thought, using the neck of the beer bottle to hide her smile. It was as much of a pre-hunt ritual as Bobby’s photographs.

Her smile widened when Dean glanced in her direction, and she realized the brothers were arguing about her.

Suck it, Winchesters. Turning smartly on her heel, she strode across the kitchen towards the back door – putting a little extra roll in her walk for Dean’s special benefit. I’m entitled, she thought, refusing to feel guilty. She’d wasted way too much of her life mooning over him and his green eyes and his secret man pain.

Besides – getting to turn him down had felt like Christmas and her birthday all rolled into one glorious moment. Imagining him going to bed frustrated over her was just one of those ‘cherry on top’ things she’d really needed to experience before death.

It was quiet outside – stark contrast to the party atmosphere they’d managed to keep going most of the night. Jo eased the screen door shut, looking around for Cas.

He hadn’t gone far – a shadow among lesser shadows, standing at the far end of the porch. Jo watched him for a long moment, taking the time to drain the last of her beer, set the bottle aside, and screw up her courage. Here goes nothing.

Crossing the distance that separated them seemed to take forever, but to her credit only one minor burst of panic hit strong enough that it threatened to derail her.

“You should be resting.”

Jo blinked, pulling up in surprise. He hadn’t given off any clues that he was even aware of her approach. “I’m too wound up,” she admitted, shifting conversational gears as smoothly as possible under the circumstances. “It happens.” Moving closer, she slipped into the small open space between Cas and the nearest support post.

He glanced at her, and Jo smiled. They were close enough to touch, and it was immediately obvious to her that Cas wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do about that. “You okay there?”

He looked directly at her then, and Jo’s breath caught in her throat. For all that he was wearing a meat suit of his own, Castiel’s gaze was heart-stoppingly intense. “You want to have sex.”

Okay…that was blunt… She knew her jaw had dropped, but for the life of her Jo couldn’t figure out what to say to something like that. “True,” she managed finally – her voice cracking slightly.

Castiel cocked his head to one side, still studying her. “You should go to Dean. You loved him for many years. He would have sex with you.”

Jo snorted. “Love’s got nothing to do with what I want.” Heart hammering against her ribs – not quite believing what she was about to do – she reached up and grabbed handfuls of the angel’s hair, dragging him down against her for a kiss.

It seemed to take him a second to process what she’d done and why, and another moment beyond that to figure out that she wanted him to kiss her back.

Jo inhaled sharply as he pressed full length against her – pinning her against the porch rail. His lips were suddenly warm and soft against hers, and the air around them seemed to crackle. Sexless creature my ass, she thought, even though she understood in a more rational part of her brain that it probably wasn’t Cas’ heavenly essence that knew how to kiss like this.

“Your…vessel…must have been talented,” she said, once he’d finally let her up for air.

He stared at her quizzically, one hand gripping the support post. “It is no challenge for me to understand how you want to be kissed. My…vessel…has nothing to do with it.”

“Oh really?” Jo giggled, in spite of her best efforts to match Cas’ stoic demeanor. “Well then – maybe you’d better show me just how thorough your understanding of the matter is.”

He studied her for another long moment - almost, Jo thought again, as if he’s working the whole thing out in his head beforehand. For all she knew, he was. Who can tell with angels?

Shifting his weight finally, Castiel gripped Jo’s waist between his hands, lifting her almost effortlessly onto the porch rail. “You are too short to do this comfortably,” he said, supporting her with one hand against the small of her back as he moved between her thighs.

Jo smirked, sliding her hands around the back of his neck, fingers toying idly with strands of his hair. “I thought angels were never uncomfortable.” Tugging him closer, she kissed him before he had a chance to respond. You really do talk too much.

This time was slower…softer. Jo relaxed into it – letting herself enjoy the feel of him pressed up against her. Skin against skin… In an insane world, it was sometimes the only thing that made any sense at all.

Castiel’s movements gradually became bolder as they kissed and explored each other. His free hand caressed her hair, gripping the back of her head to hold her still, while his kisses became more insistent. His hand flexed against her back, pulling her even tighter against his body.

Cas seemed to become aware of his erection around the same time Jo did. “I shouldn’t…” he muttered, confusion coloring his words. Jo wrapped her legs around his waist, holding him in place. She knew if he wanted he could free himself, but to her relief he stayed where he was.

“This is not a good idea,” he said, looking directly into her eyes. “I am not human. I know what you want from me…” He fell silent as Jo put her hand gently across his lips.

“You have a human body, Cas. That’s what you’re feeling – on some level you’re remembering how to do this.” She curled her fingers around the waistband of his pants, knuckles brushing against his stomach. “Let me show you.”

Heart pounding again, Jo forced herself to maintain eye contact with the angel as she started unbuckling his slacks.

“Let’s pretend we have all night.”

Graphics help?

Fri, 04 Dec 2009 13:43:37 GMT

Any of the myriad Photoshop/manip Goddesses on my f-list willing to help me out? I'm *close* - really close! I'm just entirely falling apart on getting the shadows to match up.

I can email you the original Photoshop file as well, if that would help.

Thanks in advance, guys!

Ho-ly fuck...

Fri, 20 Nov 2009 03:06:36 GMT

I have a new all-time favorite SPN episode.

And I'm wearing my Harvelle's shirt to work tomorrow. I don't care.

(Also - props to Mark Sheppard. "My first on-screen kiss" indeed. I tip my hat to you, sir!)

Okay, Kripke...

Fri, 13 Nov 2009 02:16:07 GMT

You can't fool me. The title of tonight's episode can't be "The Real Ghostbusters".

Clearly your chyron operators meant to type "Payback's a Bitch".

We're Having A Sale!!!!!!

Tue, 10 Nov 2009 13:38:05 GMT

I decided to go ahead and expand on the "Lucky 13" sale we had last February. Go to Raven's Nest Fashions, and you'll find thirteen of our designs on sale for 13% off through Friday the 13th.

It's a great way to start off your holiday shopping - we've expanded our inventory this year, and have some very exciting designs.

In addition, I'm thrilled to get our new images up on the site - dwivian and elfgirl in a show of incredible generosity offered to start re-doing my artwork for me.

In the process they have proven that when I said I could save money and not sacrifice quality by taking the site photos myself, I was an idiot.

(I am still monkeying around with the site controls to figure out why the pictures aren't reading in smaller format. If they don't show up to best advantage for you - go to the "enlarge" function.)

Finally, please spread the word wherever or however you feel comfortable. I haven't given my poor company nearly enough attention this year. I'd like to remedy that by starting off the holiday season with a bang.

My thoughs on V (2009)

Sun, 08 Nov 2009 20:06:58 GMT

So you all know that I’m not having a knee-jerk reaction like I did with the BSG re-boot, let me start by saying that I accept the lizard reveal wasn’t going to be able to be a central “gotcha” of canon. That ship has long sailed – once something has been hailed as one of the best TV reveals *ever*, you might as well give it up. You’re not going to that well a second time – at least not successfully.

That said, it’s certainly interesting to see what a difference twenty-six years (plus or minus) has made, both in society as well as the medium of television itself.

I had originally wondered if the so-called original characters were simply being harvested from the novel “East Coast Crisis” – arguably the best of the V novelizations not focusing directly on the LA Resistance. Having now started a reread of the novel, I’m revising my original opinion somewhat. The Visitor Lisa, and what we’ve seen of her relationship with Tyler so far is lifted pretty much whole cloth out of the book – nothing else appears to be.

That’s not to say that characters haven’t been drawn from other V novelizations, but since the majority of them are literary crap I have to say I’m not that motivated to do the necessary research.

The pacing of the episode was somewhat faster than it would have been ideally, but this is a trend I’ve seen developing across the board in episodic broadcast television. In a world where shows are often given little more than one or two episodes to grab an audience (and once again we edge closer to the reality of Max Headroom), creators are cramming everything they can into that first hour in a desperate bid to convince everybody to stick around for a little bit.

Of course in this case the acting was solid across the board, which makes it less annoying than it could have been (ie, The Bionic Woman reboot).

No, the problem with V 2.0 lies not in the actors – it’s in the story. In a lot of ways, V 1.0 bucked a pretty well established trope in science fiction by setting scientists up as the saviors of humanity instead of the architects of its downfall. Using your brains, thinking for yourself, questioning what the government and the media are telling you is true – V set it in place that this was how humanity could prevail against a technologically superior civilization.

Scientists are nowhere to be found in V 2009. Instead our saviors are law enforcement and religion. And while I am the last person to denigrate either out of hand – these are the two strongest examples of the status quo we currently have in existence. Beyond that, they have a reputation for discouraging independent thought among average citizens.

I’m not sure if I’m saying this exactly the way it makes sense in my head, but after the episode I couldn’t help comparing Erica and Jack’s “let’s put on a show” (tm dianora2 if I’m remembering correctly) attitude towards developing a resistance with the image of Juliet sitting with those people from all walks of life, knowing they should do something and struggling to figure out exactly what that should be. When Erica and Jack talked about assembling a resistance to fight against the Visitors, aside from the “oh, they’re giving us universal health care and hope – those bastards” response (which I’ll deal with more below), I was left with a strong sense that this was something they were fully qualified to decide and handle. They’d work out the details, and let me know if I needed to bring cookies or whatever.

Juliet and her initial group were ordinary citizens, just like any of us. They struggled like us. Juliet didn’t want to be the leader, but there was no one else so she found the strength inside her to step up. It was inspirational, but more than that it was relatable – which I guess is the essence of what I find wrong with the reboot.

The universal health care plot – aside from the “oh hai show – I see what u did thar” aspect – was completely mishandled in my opinion, and adds to the overall weakness of the episode. In the original concept, yes the Visitors offered the knowledge of how to heal many known diseases, but the seminars to impart this knowledge were always being cancelled; bogged down in bureaucratic red tape.

Here, they have delivered on their promise. We see Roy walk, and talk about how he has no more pain. Anna is doing nothing but preaching peace and tolerance. In fact, with everything we have jumbled into an hour, the only acts of violence are really committed against a group of people whose stated aim is to bring down the Visitors.

Why? Oh, we don’t know that yet. They’re supposedly going to bring down the destruction of humanity, but instead we’re consistently shown evidence entirely to the contrary. We’re told they’re responsible for the increasing instability of the global economic and military situation.

What, they’re Bernie Madoff? The head of AIG? George W. Bush? Blame-shifting does not equal solid storytelling.

It is possible to do a story about the merits of fighting against worldwide peace, harmony and the price of the “greater good”. It’s a tricksy business at best, however, and unless you’re one of the great storytellers of modern television you’re really better off leaving it lie.

For now I’ll keep it programmed into the DVR (I have Castle programmed, for fuck’s sake) and watch it as faithfully as I can. I feel a certain sense of loyalty to my favorite actors and the genre in general, and see this as my holding up my end of the relationship. (Live viewing likely will never happen, owing to it being scheduled on Alpha Night.)

Like Dollhouse, however, V’s going to have to show me a hell of a lot more before I’m willing to embrace it fully with the kind of fanaticism I reserve for my truly favorite shows.

So we've finally started watching Merlin...

Thu, 05 Nov 2009 03:57:04 GMT

What can I say - Robin and I had a fairly large back-log of shows to get through.

Some observations so far:

"You know Mom, I don't normally see slash in shows - but you really can't avoid it on this one."

"All right folks - role call! Merlin? Not so bright. Arthur? Not so bright. Uthyr? Grumpy, and...not so bright. Gaius? Awesome."

"Morgana and Gwen need to unite and rule the kingdom with their yuri awesomeness."

"Hmm...it would seem Morgana is as awesome as her hair."

"Oh sure Merlin - you'd do it for Lancelot, but you won't do it for Arthur. I see how it is."

Wed, 04 Nov 2009 20:58:37 GMT

Reading about all the "Save Dollhouse" campaigns has got me wondering...

...am I a bad Joss/Eliza fan that I don't necessarily think Dollhouse *deserves* to be saved? Not right now, at any rate.

Flashes of brilliance do not compensate for some of the serious missteps that have been taken so far this season. They knew what was at stake. If I'm going to go beyond my duty as a viewer to help keep them on the air, don't they have a responsibility to at least meet me halfway?

Thu, 22 Oct 2009 16:40:21 GMT

The Roadhouse - my fic journal over on Dreamwidth - has been updated through this morning. This includes copies of my recent posting frenzy over on Faith_Dean.

I've also updated the sticky post that puts all of my SPN/BTVS stories in chronological order.

So...

Fri, 16 Oct 2009 02:04:36 GMT

Congrats to my fanfic writing teenager and fellow SPN fan. Kripked and Joss'd in the same freaking episode! \o/

Gotta give the SPN writing staff credit though. If you're going to plagiarize your apocalypse, steal from the best. (Crowley/Ruby OTP!)

Dollhouse

Sat, 03 Oct 2009 22:45:06 GMT

Before I get into the bulk of what I want to say, let me pause and acknowledge that Eliza Dushku acted the holy hell out of the material she was given. It all resonated at the kind of profoundly deep level I’m sure they all hoped it would.

And yet…

Whedonesque linked to EW’s recap of the episode, and I have to admit it pretty much sums up how I feel. I have very real and very deep problems with the concept of a “maternal instinct”. It’s too often portrayed as something every woman has, and oh yeah – there’s something wrong with you if you don’t have it.

The overwhelming drive to protect your child is learned response, not natural, in my experience. The only part of it that is natural is the general survival instinct most humans have to not harm the defenseless members of our species. And insofar as I believe it to be learned experience, I *do* believe Topher was able to imbue Echo with it in the same way he gives Actives martial arts skills, languages, or any other number of learned behaviors.

I do not believe it would have survived the wipe to enough of a degree to drive Echo crazy. That pushes the conceit firmly over to the “every woman has a maternal instinct” side of the fence, and not only does it conceptually reduce all women to their hormonal drives, it frankly cheapens the connection every father has to their child – every drive to protect them beyond all reason.

Aside from my feminist objections to the storyline, I’m getting seriously tired of the way Ballard manhandles Echo. Not once did we hear him last night give the code phrase to shut her down and end the engagement. It could be argued that he’s congenitally stupid, but I think this plays further into the idea I put forth last week – Ballard does not see *Echo* as human. Nothing he does to her counts, because she supposedly “forgets”.

Except he should know better, because she’s already told him (over and over and over *headdesk*) that she doesn’t forget any of her personalities entirely.

Joss better be going somewhere with this.

And of course the episode further suffered from a lack of Clare. Amy Acker was so brilliant last week that even Robin remarked “there’s a Clare-shaped hole in the Dollhouse”.

I’m not out yet, but this was definitely a rough week.

Nyxie!

Fri, 02 Oct 2009 02:10:07 GMT

There! *points at end of tonight's episode* Right there - you see it? Right where the Sam/Dean make-up fic is supposed to go?

Help a sister out! I'll do anything! Seriously - name your price!

As far as the rest goes...HOMG THURSDAY BRAIN (tm apocalypsos)!!!!!!!!!!!!! Seriously. There's not a coherent thought in my brain right now. From the point where Dean admits he learned a different lesson than Zac intended - the RIGHT lesson, for what it's worth - to his apology to Sam...that's everything I could have ever hoped for to put an end to their separation.

He got it, and he voiced it - they are what keep each other human. They are all they've got.

And the fact that this doesn't Joss my Crossroads 'verse doesn't hurt either. *g*

Sat, 26 Sep 2009 21:14:02 GMT

Favorite quote from SPN this week?

“This is a den of iniquity.”

“Dude – you full on rebelled against heaven. Iniquity’s one of the perks.”

Every time I think it’s not possible to <3 Misha Collins any more than I do, he proves me wrong.

You know, much as I loved last week’s episode (Ellen! *flail*), ‘note perfect’ is the phrase that kept popping into mind to describe this week’s outing. How did a show that started out as essentially a “monster of the week” X-Files/Buffy rip-off evolve into something so rich and complex and engrossing?

Because aside from having one of the prettiest, most awesome casts in the history of television, that is really what we’re looking at now. You want morally gray, and complex existential questions about family, choices and destiny?

We’re pretty much drowning in it.

I know fandom is twitching about the brothers being separated…hell, I don’t like it either (and Robin positively *hates* it). After the events of last season, however, I don’t think the show could have done anything else and have it be believable. This is still very much a show about two brothers and their relationship – but one of the beauties of television is that you don’t have to keep them in the same place to examine that. Even thousands of miles apart, their relationship to each other is pretty much their defining characteristic.

Who was the first person Sam went to call when omens starting cropping up near him? Exactly. And I really do think Dean’s asking for his necklace back was as much about needing that unconscious connection to Sam as any protective qualities he believes the amulet to have. (Yeah, still not getting over that any time soon…)

Was his speech to Cas about how much fun he’s having without Sam painful? Oh yes. Was it true? I think it was true when he said it, but I also don’t think it negates him missing Sam’s active presence in his life. Watch his face after Cas blips out…Dean drops his guard and you can see the pain he’s going through.

Just as real as the euphoria of not *having* to look out for his brother anymore.

Not surprisingly, I have a lot of sympathy for what Dean’s going through right now. The defining responsibility of his entire life has been “look out for your brother” – going all the way back to the fire.

Then in Season 2, John adds the lovely caveat that Dean not only now has to look out for his brother, he has to *save* him. And if he can’t save him, he has to kill him.

Fast forward to where we are now, and Dean has had to face the fact that not only couldn’t he save Sam – he couldn’t kill him. He’s failed. The screaming in his head is different now, but at the end of “Good God, Y’All”, Sam essentially removed Dean’s constant reminder of his great failure by voluntarily taking himself out of the picture. Now Dean gets to work through his issues at his own pace.

Which, being Dean, includes ignoring them entirely if he chooses.

It’s not nearly on the same scale, but I remember how overwhelming it was after my father’s death realizing that for the first time in nearly a decade, I could freely choose how I wanted to shape my life. Happiness was suddenly the norm, not the exception.

Does that mean I didn’t love my father? Of course not.

On the surface, Sam’s lesson is very clearly that the wrong action taken for the right reasons is still wrong. And while I’m not entirely sure I agree with the idea, I appreciate the fact that the show is taking the stand and seeing where it leads the character.

It’s also bringing up quite a few parallels – the parallel to Dean of feeling like he’s never been good enough, that he will always fail the people closest to him.

And then the even more disturbing parallel to his father. Dean called Sam on it last season when they fought the ghouls – Sam *is* his father. That’s why they fought so much and so viciously. Sam is John reincarnated, and if we accept this as truth, and we’re willing to embrace the idea that the wrong action taken for the right reason is still wrong…well, doesn’t that potentially call Sam and Dean’s entire upbringing into question?

So much to ponder on what was supposed to be such a fluffy show.

And then there’s Dollhouse. Most commonly heard phrase in our house during last night’s premiere? “Wow, Ballard – you’re a bastard.”

Okay, being completely shallow…Jamie Bamber never needs to do an American accent again. I’ll get a petition going, if I have to.

That said, it was one hell of a disconnect for Bamber – who remember, I last knew as Lee Adama – to be speaking with a British accent (his own, I do know this), and Alexis Denisof to be speaking with an American one.

*buh?*

A little exposition heavy in the beginning, but overall a very strong start to what is likely to be a deeply disturbing ride of a season (and no, I don’t say that like it’s a bad thing). I definitely think Topher and Claire’s scenes were the high point of the episode. Last season really left me craving more insight into their relationship, and with a strong suspicion that the imprint Topher is allowed to place in an active on his birthday is in fact Claire/Whiskey’s original personality.

I also like that we’re already seeing signs of Topher’s slide into what he becomes in Epitaph One. Let’s be honest – this season is a gift. The odds of us seeing a third season are almost non-existant.

Echo – yikes. I like that there’s still a lot going on under the surface, and Eliza will never not be one of my favorites, but it’s kind of shocking to see Joss not shying away from the objectification angle. Ballard in particular…this is the man they wanted us to think was a good guy last year? I just re-watched “Echo” (the unaired pilot), and Adele makes a point of saying that in engagements involving sexual content, the handlers don’t eavesdrop on the clients.

I know Ballard listened, and after watching him last night I’m reasonably sure he got off on it.

I also find it very telling that both Klar (the supposed bad guy) and Ballard (the supposed ‘hero’) used violence to get Echo to do what they wanted. Until Echo is reimprinted with her Caroline memories, she’s less than human to Ballard – something to be pitied and cared for.

Kind of like Boyd’s response to Claire, huh? (And oh boy how I love that the show let her call him on that!)

In fact, the only ones who seem to recognize that Echo is more than the typical child-like state of the other “blank” Actives – the ones who treat her as the most human – are the ones most invested in Echo and the least invested in Caroline, the supposed “real” person..

Hard, involved questions and fascinating ways of tackling them. I’m definitely in for the duration, no matter how long the ride ends up being.

Non-spoilery reaction to tonight's SPN

Fri, 25 Sep 2009 02:09:08 GMT

Oh sure - like I'm going to be able to calm down and go to sleep after THAT!

*flails*

I do have to give them credit though - Kripke and Co. may be stealing from fic writers, but at least they're stealing from the best.

More awesome than can be contained in a single episode...

Fri, 18 Sep 2009 02:48:02 GMT

Okay, despite the freak outs you may see here and in other places, I fucking LOVED this episode. Edge of the seat, heart in my mouth, F-LOVED this thing.

Any capslock you see is born of that one sentiment. I had no idea how much this show's bitch I was really until tonight - I don't think an episode has given me such a flawless hour of "here Telaryn, have everything you ever wanted in a television show" since Heart.

Okay, Sammy sex would have made it perfect, but I don't know what you could have jury rigged to make it possible...ooh, now going to a Sam/Jo place that I'm not sure should ever be visited.

I was spoiled going in for Ellen/Jo - even before the previews last week. I have been bouncing and grinning like an idiot about tonight ever since Supernatural Wiki linked to the announcement in Samantha Ferris' blog. I have always loved Ellen, and firmly believe that back burnering her was one of the biggest mistakes Kripke made starting in Season 3.

I was *not* spoiled, however, for Castiel marching in and basically demanding Dean's amulet to use as some kind of "God detector". Imagine me sputtering, literally, at the television - dropping all kinds of f-bombs on Cas.

Didn't see it coming, and don't think I'm getting past it anytime soon.

I do like that Dean was reluctant to give it up. Nice touch. *g*

I also like that Dean's gut reaction when Sam went missing was to go find him - damn the mission. I understand why he didn't, and why he *shouldn't*...this season really isn't about the lack of trust between the brothers. I'm beginning to suspect it's about the two of them finally growing up, and understanding what that means.

Interesting character touch too that he offered Sam the Impala. Two episodes in, and we're seeing a lot of Dean's defining characteristics left by the wayside. This show has set the bar too high to make me think those moments are accidental. They're building to *something*, and I cannot wait to see what.

Finally, I freaking LOVED War. While I do agree it would have been an awesome Good Omens shout out to have her be the female, I thought the entire take on the character was brilliantly played.

Oh, and Bobby is so kicking Dean's ass when he finds out what went down between the boys. You know it, I know it. Bobby Singer will stand up for the sole purpose of smiting Dean's ass.

DAMMIT, SPN!!!!

Fri, 11 Sep 2009 02:15:26 GMT

I had her! I had Robin completely hooked and signed up until you had that downer of an ending!!!!

Being the adult, I understand the final conversation between Sam and Dean. It had to happen. Dean has every right to feel betrayed, and seriously - what could Sam possibly ever do to make it right?

Sometimes you don't get to fix things. It's a hard lesson, but oh so true. Life is learning to live with those moments.

Besides, as I pointed out to Robin - if Dean really couldn't trust Sam, he wouldn't keep him around. Sam's family, and that still counts for something Dean knows he can rely on.

Robin just wants the brother dynamic back.

As far as the rest...

HOMG *flappy hands* Chuck! Cas! Wincester!!!

"Could you stop touching me?" All I could think about was the flack after the last con about the photo ops where fans weren't allowed to touch the boys. *giggle*

And Cas' entrance was EPIC. Only word for it. I found it interesting that Dean wouldn't even give in to save Sam or Bobby. That's a nice bit of character development - in the past, Dean would have folded like a cheap suit.

Angel condom...heh. ILU Dean!

And...and...Dean *is* the Sword of Michael? Nyx, was it you that linked to that very fic at the end of last season? Man that author has got to be on cloud 9 right now.

Who did put them on that plane? And why? Interesting questions.

ELLEN'S BACK NEXT WEEK! HI ELLEN!!!! And possessed Jo? Man, you know there are some fans out there going "I told you so!"

The boys are back!

Meme-age!

Thu, 06 Aug 2009 23:56:23 GMT

Swiped from apocalypsos...

Pick your five favorite TV shows (in no particular order) and answer the following questions. Don't cheat!

1.Supernatural
2.Leverage
3.Dollhouse
4.Cosby Show
5.MASH

1. Who's your favorite character in 2?

Parker. No question.

2. Who's your least favorite character in 1?

That's actually hard, because I have a real soft spot for even the worst of them. I'll go with Bela, because I think they really screwed up a whole lot of potential there. I understand *why* now that I've read the Season 3 companion, but it still chafes.

3. What's your favorite episode of 4?

The one where Vanessa sneaks out with her friends to go to a concert.

4. What's your favorite season of 5?

The first one. My two favorite characters in the entire series were Trapper and Henry. There's very litle for me to get excited about after they go.

5. Who is your favorite ship in 3?

Overtly, Victor/Sierra. I'm still intrigued by the untold history between Whiskey and Topher, however.

6. Who is your anti-ship in 2?

I'm really not forgetting to answer - I would just have to agree with apocalypsos on the Nate/Sophie front. I'm kind of intrigued by the possibility of Eliot/Sophie after the fighting episode.

7. How long have you watched 1?

Since the end of Season 2. Thank the Gods for DVDs.

8. How did you become interested in 3?

Joss. Eliza. There really was no doubt that I'd watch it.

9. Who's your favorite actor/actress in 4?

Phylicia Rashad

10. Which do you prefer: Show 1, 2 or 5?

Supernatural, although Leverage is a wonderful off-season filler.

11. Which show have you seen more episodes of, 1 or 3?

Supernatural - it's been on longer.

12. Who is your favorite character in 4?

Claire. Solid relationship, gorgeous, successful, talented - what's not to envy?

13. How would you kill off your favourite character in 1?

Saving the boys.

14. Give a random quote from 1?

“Don't make me get my gun, boy!”

15. Would a 3/4 crossover work?

Huh. It would take a more talented writer than me to pull it off.

16. Pair 2 characters in 1 that would make an unlikely but strangely okay couple.

Dean/Ellen

17. Has 5 inspired you in any way?

It's not inspirational - it's more of a comfy blanket type of show.

18. Overall, which show has a better cast, 2 or 4?

Two.

19. Which has better theme music, 3 or 5?

Wow - that's hard. Probably five, although I do think the Dollhouse theme is perfect for the show.

20. Which show do you wish more people you knew watched?

I don't think I can answer that, because the first three are very popular among my friends.

Yeah, I know I said August 1st...

Wed, 29 Jul 2009 03:59:09 GMT

I can't wait any longer!!! The revamped site is hot and ready for browsing!!!

And now I can finally show off the design I've been keeping under wraps for months!

I'll be tweaking a few things over the next several weeks - mostly having to do with the graphics - but for now we're back in business!

Yikes.

Thu, 23 Jul 2009 23:18:06 GMT

Okay. Here we go. Not worried or nervous - not me.

Nope.

Welcome to The Road House!

I have a fic journal.

Gods help us all.

Mon, 20 Jul 2009 02:29:04 GMT

Title: Deliver Us From Evil
Characters: Castiel, Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3208
Disclaimer: Insert standard admission here, that I am only torturing and abusing these boys for the public good.
Author's Notes: This is the sequel to Bless Me Father, For I Have Sinned..., the final part of this particular story, and my first ever public posting of Wincest. Wasn't happy with early versions of the story, and it turned out to be because Dean had very definite ideas how things needed to end up.

Story picks up immediately after the end of "Bless Me Father" - we see a little more of Sam's point of view on the whole experience.

Tags: Bondage, D/s, m/m, incest, minor priest!kink

========================================================
They call it ‘floating’ – Sam can’t remember where he learned the term or when. A sympathetic nervous system response, which causes a release of epinephrine from the suprarenal glands, as well as a dump of endorphins and enkephalins.

Yeah. That about sums it up.

He’d never intended for things to go this far – never in his wildest dreams imagined Castiel would be willing to take things this far. You will be stripped bare, inside and out, and I will have all your secrets before we’re through. Cas had more than followed through on his promise, taking everything Sam was willing to give, and then demanding more. He’d left Sam hollowed out, completely detached from the pain and anger and fear that had weighed him down for so long.

For the first time since his own death, Sam Winchester is at peace.

The stillness doesn’t last. As the endorphins flooding his system start to wane, memories begin creeping back in; long-buried secrets and shame finally given voice.

They didn’t want me. I would have done anything they asked, and it didn’t make a difference.

He’d spent so much of that summer trying to drown his pain in alcohol and violence, and all it had bought him in the end was a painful awareness of how worthless he was. One particularly nasty crossroads demon had delighted in driving home the point that Sam’s life – his soul – didn’t matter to them. He was nothing more than a means to an end, and they already had what they wanted.

He realizes with a jolt that the memory doesn’t hurt any more. For the first time in a year, he can remember without the weight of all the associated emotions.

He told Dean to kill me. He died for Dean, and he told my brother to kill me.

That one still cuts a little. It’s older…better rooted. Sam breathes in, exhales, lets it go for now.

Why did he leave me? I don’t know who I am without him.

He can’t hold back the small sound in his throat, remembering how deeply it had hurt voicing that one. It was the heart of nearly every discussion he’d tried to have with his brother, going back to the moment Dean had made the deal to save his life. He’d been left with no choice, no way to make things right again, and Dean had never once given him a clear indication that he understood.

“Hold him.”

Sam flinches at the sound of Castiel’s voice. Awareness of his surroundings slams back into place, stealing the last of his rush, and leaving him trembling on his feet.

Arms circle his chest. A denim-clad hip and thigh lock in behind one of his legs, bracing him upright. Not Cas. Sam feels the brush of a chair being set on his other side, hears Castiel climbing, feels the tug on his arms as the angel begins loosening his restraints.

Smell of sweat and sex in his nostrils – not his, but just as familiar. “Dean?” Panic and shame coil low and tight in his gut as he pieces together what’s happened. No…God, no…he’s been here the whole time. Sam tenses against Dean’s grip on him. He heard everything…saw everything. His eyes start to burn under the press of the blindfold.

How could Cas do this to me? The feeling of betrayal overwhelms him – sickens him. Sam struggles weakly, trying to find the strength to stand on his own. Before he can manage to get his feet solidly under him, however, the chains holding his arms overhead give way. He collapses in Dean’s arms – virtually dead weight.

“Shush, Sammy. I’ve got you.” Dean takes him carefully to the floor, minding the wounds on his back – all the while bearing the bulk of Sam’s weight in his arms. Sam finally quits fighting, surrendering to Dean’s control.

He heard everything. Sam can’t kick his brain off that realization. He doesn’t have it in him to remember everything he confessed under Castiel’s whip, but he knows it was more than he ever expected Dean to hear. How can he stand it?

“Easy.” Dean murmurs, settling Sam more comfortably against his chest. His free hand brushes Sam’s face, fumbling with the blindfold. “Close your eyes.” Sam obeys immediately. Dean pushes the damp fabric up and over his head, leaving behind a strong glow of light that presses warmth against his eyelids. “Slowly.”

Even knowing in advance how much it’s likely to hurt, Sam can’t suppress a hiss of pain as full light hits his eyes again. It takes a moment for his vision to clear, but when it does the first thing he sees is not Dean’s face – but Castiel’s. A jolt of fear stiffens him in Dean’s arms. “We’re not finished.”

Terrified, desperate, Sam looks up at Dean. His brother’s eyes are kind – understanding – but his expression offers Sam no out whatsoever. “You heard the man.”

Sam looks back at Castiel, a cold calm stealing over him as he waits for instructions.

The angel is quiet for a long moment, studying him. Finally Cas nods – presumably pleased with what he sees. “On your knees.”

Tears spill out of Sam’s eyes, tracing hot trails down his cheeks. He can’t do it. The idea of moving after everything he’s been through is more than he can handle. In the end, Dean helps him up. It goes well, until the fabric of Dean’s shirt brushes against one of the deeper cuts on his back. Sam whimpers in pain, and the world freezes.

“Sorry.” It’s barely a whisper, but Sam can hear the levels of regret in Dean’s voice. Shifting his grip, Dean sets him on his knees, steps back at Sam’s nod. Sam takes a deep, shaky breath, focusing his eyes on a spot on the floor.

“Hands behind your back.”

Sam inhales sharply, panic paralyzing him momentarily. What else can he do to me? It’s a wild thought, desperate – but he dares not voice it. He knows his arms are shaking as he puts his wrists together behind his back. Dean is the one who works the quick release – clipping the cuffs together.

Castiel stands in front of him, dominating Sam’s attention, even as he dares not look higher than the tips of the angel’s shoes. “You’ve done well, Sam.”

Sam feels a flush crawling across his skin, irrationally pleased at the praise. His cock stiffens between his legs, but he stays quiet. Nothing Cas has said can be interpreted as direction for him to speak. “Your submission is absolute, your confession nearly complete.”

Sam’s breath catches in his throat. He starts to look up, protest – but catches himself. Tears start to fall again, as he struggles to hold position, do as he’s been told. There’s nothing else, he thinks desperately. He’s admitted more in the last couple hours than he’s ever confessed to anyone – far more than he would have copped to if he’d known Dean was listening.

Castiel moves out of his field of vision. Sam can hear movement behind him – knows Dean and the angel are doing something – but successfully resists the urge to track their movements. You agreed to this. You can do this.

It’s too late to stop now.

Sam blinks suddenly, confused at the gentle whoof of air against his skin. He senses someone directly across from him, carefully out of his line of vision. The skin on the back of his neck prickles as someone else – he thinks that one might be Castiel, but he can’t be sure – steps in close behind him.

Hand fisting in his hair…definitely Cas…pulling his head up, so that he is looking directly at Dean. The angel crouches in close behind him, maintaining his grip on Sam’s hair – holding him perfectly still.
************************
I am a sick, sick bastard. Sitting across from Sam, preparing to do whatever he can to start fixing things between them, and the first thought in Dean’s head is how incredibly hot Sam looks. He licks his lips nervously, glancing up at Castiel. The angel might as well be a statue, given how focused he is on holding Sam in place. Dean shivers reflexively – he has a habit of forgetting just how scary Cas can be until something like tonight happens to remind him.

His own attention slides back to Sam, and Dean wonders how much his brother knew what he was doing before he approached Cas. It would be easier to think Sam was so fucked up that he forgot, but reviewing the past couple hours in his mind, Dean is forced to acknowledge that the opposite is probably true.

You’re stalling. He is, and he knows it. Sam is looking at him with such pain and fear that Dean doesn’t know if he can take it. It’s too big, and the idea that he played any part in it makes him want to throw up.

He clears his throat, finally – forces himself to meet Sam’s eyes. “You should have come to me about this.”

It’s a bad start – not what he meant to say at all, and the shock and confusion blooming on Sam’s face couldn’t be any more vivid if Dean had punched him. “Come to you? Dean, I…”

Whatever he was going to say is choked off with a flex of Castiel’s fist in his hair. Sam struggles for a moment, but Cas has worked him too well. The angel stays quiet, patient, until with a loud exhale of breath, Sam manages to calm down.

Only then does Cas say anything. “You will listen, until you are told to speak.”

Dean blinks, all conscious thought leaving him for a split second. He really needs to stop doing that. It’s hard enough for Dean to be here, face to face with all the emotional crap – if Cas keeps winding up his hormones like this, they’re never going to be finished.

With another shudder, he manages to regain control of himself – bring his attention back to Sam. “Look. I’m sorry as hell things had to come to this. I’m sorry I stayed wrapped up in my own crap for so long, and I’m sorry I didn’t see what it was really doing to you.”
***************************************
Castiel releases his grip on Sam’s hair – Sam senses him moving back; giving them space. He risks a glance at the angel, and is rewarded with a small nod.

Turning back to Dean, Sam suddenly doesn’t know where to begin. The last thing he expected to be facing tonight was Dean apologizing to him. “You’re supposed to hate me,” he says at last. “You tried to tell me this was fucked and I wouldn’t believe you.”

“First of all,” Dean says, his voice rough with emotion, “I’m never going to hate you. I may want to flatten you sometimes, but we’re family.” He drops his gaze for a moment, studying his clasped hands.

“We need to get past this.” He looks up again, meeting Sam’s eyes. “I know we’re not going to do it in one sitting – hell, I don’t even know how we’re going to pull it off. I just know I can’t keep watching you beat yourself up about this.”

Sam smiles at Dean’s choice of words. “I think I’m done punishing myself for a while,” he admits with a small laugh. He tugs against his cuffs for emphasis, and is startled to see a flush of heat in Dean’s green eyes. Dean’s attention flicks up and past Sam, looking to Castiel.

“We’re okay. I got this.”

Forgetting everything, Sam looks over his shoulder, sees the angel inclining his head at Dean. “I will leave you then.” A rush of wings fills his ears – Sam blinks, and Castiel is gone.

Confused, Sam looks back at Dean. “Dean, what’s going on?”

Dean’s entire body language has shifted – Sam knows that look, the set of his shoulders. He stands up, kicking the chair out of the way, and Sam’s gaze is drawn immediately to the pronounced bulge in the crotch of his jeans. Moving closer, Dean deliberately bumps his leg against Sam’s shoulder – throwing him off balance. Before he can recover, Dean has circled around and crouched in behind him – bent in close. “Cas and me – we had a deal.” His breath is hot against Sam’s ear, sending a fine shiver straight through Sam’s body, down to his groin. “Confession’s more than just admitting your sins you know. You’ve got to say you’re sorry.” Dean’s fingers stroke through his hair now – Sam leans into his hand, welcoming the familiar touch.

Abruptly, unexpectedly, Dean makes a fist – pulling Sam’s head up and back sharp enough to ride the edge of true pain. “And you’ve got to be willing to make it up to the person you’re apologizing to.”

Sam whines high in his throat – no longer sure what’s going on, and not daring to move. Dean reaches between their bodies with his free hand and thumbs the quick release on the cuffs – a moment later, Sam feels the pressure loosen on his arms and shoulders.

Dean leans in again, and Sam groans at the brush of lips against his earlobe. “You’ve got about ten seconds to get your ass on that bed. I won’t fuck you on your back, but that’s about as generous as I feel right now.”

He lets go, steps back, and Sam moves – his body reacting before his brain fully engages. Adrenaline shields him from the worst of his aches. He’s still not all that sure what’s going on, but he knows the edge in Dean’s voice, knows what it means.

He can’t help a groan of longing at the feel of the mattress and sheets against his skin. Everything has been hard edges for so long – the temptation to collapse into blissful unconsciousness is almost overwhelming. Dean is at his side in an instant, pulling him back to reality. The next several moments pass in a blur. Pillows underneath him, putting him on his knees and raising his hips to just the right angle. The increased pressure on his cock is sweet, riding the edge of frustration. Sam knows in the mood Dean’s in, he’s not getting the friction he needs any time soon.

He can hear Dean moving around the room, but resists the urge to look. After several long moments, his obedience is rewarded. Lube-slicked fingers stroke up between his legs – pushing past his opening, sliding in deep and slow. He groans, arching up off the bed in sheer reflex. God…yes…

Dean pushes him firmly back against the pillows. “Don’t move.” Sam struggles to resist the urge to thrust back against Dean’s hand. Dean starts fucking him with two fingers, stretching and working him until Sam is sure he’s going to explode.
********************************
Sam’s already quivering – vibrating with need – and Dean’s hard as a rock just watching it. His gaze travels over every inch of Sam that he can see, lingering on the angry slashes criss-crossing his back. Conflicting emotions battle inside him as he remembers watching Cas work. On the one hand, it doesn’t look like any permanent damage was done – and a blind man could see that Sam got off on it.

On the other hand… Dean reaches between them with his free hand, grabs Sam’s balls and works them slow, reaching out a fingertip to stroke the veined underside of his cock. “I said don’t move,” he warns, feeling Sam tensing to do just that.

On the other hand, Sam is his, and Dean for the first time in his adult life feels like his territory has been infringed on. Even with how much he enjoyed watching – and his dick twitches pleasantly at the memory of Sam so tied up and helpless while Cas fucked him – Dean knows it’s time to restore the balance.

“Dean, please…” Sam’s whining now, desperate for it, and the sound brings a smile to Dean’s lips.

“Please what, Sammy?”

“Please fuck me…God, Dean…”

Yeah, he can do that. Dean pulls out, lets go, and positions himself – hand on his cock, the tip brushing against Sam’s hole. His free hand curls around Sam’s hip bone, finding the leverage he needs.

“Mine,” he growls, thrusting forward – burying himself with a single snap of his hips. Sam is shaking underneath him now, wordless sounds of pleasure and need coming out of him in an almost endless stream as Dean starts fucking him.

So tight… Nothing in Dean’s world has ever felt like this. He knows he’s hitting that spot with every thrust – the one that drives Sam insane. Sam’s still struggling not to move, not to thrust back at Dean and gain some friction for himself. He’s more obedient tonight than Dean has ever seen him.

Still fucking him hard and fast, Dean grabs Sam by the hair, jerks him up hard. “You like it when he grabbed you like this?” Sam nods, short jerky movements – all Dean’s grip will allow him. “He really gets off on that hair of yours.” He fucks harder into Sam, finally letting a little of his possessive streak loose. “Maybe I should cut it off.”

“Jesus,” Sam gasps. Dean smiles, knowing immediately that Sam is getting off on this too.

“Not yet,” he pants, ratcheting up his pace. “And don’t think I don’t see you rutting against that pillow. You don’t get to come until you beg me nice. Until you remember who you belong to.”

A shudder ripples through Sam’s body – Dean can sense him struggling to control himself. “Good boy.” He lets Sam’s hair go; Sam’s head flops forward, sweat dripping from his face onto the sheets. “Such a good little slut. Hard as Cas rode you, and you’ll still beg me for it, won’t you?”

He grins, hearing Sam repeating the same word over and over, under his breath. “Please what, Sam?” Dean reaches underneath him, lightly circles his cock. Sam’s head snaps up with a guttural cry, and forgetting all his control, bucks his hips back against Dean.

“God Dean, please…please let me come. Fuck, I’ll do anything. Anything – swear to God!” The last plea ends in another hoarse cry, as Dean strokes him.

“Mine,” Dean growls again, keeping Sam under control with hands and voice and the thrusts of his cock. It takes some effort to keep his strokes from going ragged – Sam has already been fucked senseless tonight. Dean fucks him hard and fast, his right hand slippery with Sam’s precum as he jacks him. Nerves and muscles are tightening low in his body – he can feel the pressure building in his groin now, overwhelming everything else.

“Come for me, Sam,” he gasps – lingering on the point of release. “Come hard. Come now.” And then Dean is over the edge, body convulsing and jerking as he comes. Sam follows only a second behind – hot thick spill over Dean’s fist, body clenching tight around Dean’s cock.

Somehow Dean manages to keep it together – guiding them both through the aftershocks, keeping himself braced off Sam’s back until the tremors finally pass. He waits until Sam is completely boneless underneath him before pulling out – easing himself up alongside his brother on the bed.

Impulsively, Dean presses his lips to the base of Sam’s neck. “Mine,” he whispers one final time.

Sam’s reply is a ghost of sound. “Always.”

Stated on Facebook...

Thu, 16 Jul 2009 00:42:15 GMT

(And shockingly *not* by me!)

"Think of a cross between 'Supernatural' and 'BJ and the Bear.'"

My problem is not thinking about it...my problem is figuring out how to *stop* thinking about it.

More Kink!

Mon, 13 Jul 2009 21:34:26 GMT

Title: Lead Us Not Into Temptation
Characters: Castiel/Sam
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1983
Disclaimer: Insert standard admission here, that I am only torturing and abusing these boys for the public good.
Author's Notes: This is the AU prequel to Bless Me Father, For I Have Sinned... that I mentioned to nu_breed in the comments. I had initially drafted it as the beginning of "Bless Me", and couldn't resolve the direction Cas seemed determined to take things.

She seemed interested in seeing the story anyway. It took me a while to find Castiel's motivation and polish my rough draft to a point where it matched what I saw in my head, but I'm definitely happy with the results.

Tags: Bondage, D/s, m/m, heavier overtones of priest!kink than "Bless Me"

==================================================================================
“Cas, man – I’m out of options. He’s slipping away from me, and I don’t know how to fix it.”

What neither of them can admit is that Dean can’t fix what’s wrong with Sam. The very nature of their relationship negates him being able to take the kind of firm hand Sam needs to start setting things right again. And if we lose one, we lose the other.

So Castiel has swallowed his misgivings, and agreed to do whatever was necessary.

He’d never intended for things to go this far.
**********************************************
Sam is on his knees, head bowed – tension screaming through every line of his body. Castiel freezes – momentarily unsure whether he should interrupt. It goes against his nature to come between man and God in time of prayer.

He’s been praying for weeks. Castiel has not received revelation on this matter, but he suspects they’re well past that point now. “Sam.”

Sam flinches at the sound of his voice – a guilty flush on his cheeks as he looks up at Castiel. “Cas.” He braces himself on the nearby table, starts to push himself to his feet. Castiel is at his side in an instant, hand on his shoulder, pressing him back on his knees.

“You were praying.”

Sam ducks his head, unable to maintain eye contact. “I didn’t know…” He swallows, and Castiel can see him trying to collect himself. “I didn’t know what else to do.” His voice is steadier, but still little more than a whisper.

Castiel sighs gently, seeing for the first time the depth of Sam’s despair and frustration. Reaching out, he tips Sam’s head up and back – forcing the eye contact Sam himself is too scared to make on his own. “You have been heard.”

Sobs rip through Sam’s chest, making him shake against Castiel’s touch. “I’m sorry, Cas. I’m so, so, sorry.” Tears spill over his cheeks, splash against the angel’s wrist. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to make it right.”

“Sam.” His voice is sharper now. Sam flinches, but manages to calm himself. “Do you understand what you are asking for?”

Closing his eyes briefly, Sam nods quickly.

Castiel’s hand drops to his side, and he steps back a pace. “Forgiveness does not come without confession of your sins, Sam Winchester. True absolution comes at an even higher price to the soul.” They are entering dangerous waters now, and despite his promise to Dean, Castiel knows he cannot continue without something resembling informed consent.

He watches Sam grapple with the implications, and is relieved to see a gleam of understanding in his eyes.

“If you wish me to be your confessor,” Castiel says at last, “that is within my power.” He gestures sharply, silencing whatever Sam was about to say. “If I agree to this, you will be confessed in the old way. You will place yourself entirely at my mercy. You will be stripped bare, inside and out, and I will have all your secrets before we finish.”

He has Sam’s full attention now, and Castiel briefly senses him reconsidering the entire operation. Good.

In the end, however, Sam makes the only answer he can. “I’m ready.”

Castiel studies him for a long moment, then nods sharply and makes the only answer he can. “Remove your clothes.”

He retreats slightly, watching as dispassionately as he can as Sam pulls off his shirt. The nearby lamplight catches the swell of his muscles, throwing them into sharp relief. So much strength, in so young a package.

So much centered on one man who until recently had no idea how important he was.

Castiel’s mind starts to drift ahead, focusing on the particulars. Whip, chain, cuffs, blindfold. He looks up at the ceiling overhead, idly scanning for weaknesses in the structure.

Movement catches his attention – Sam getting to his feet in order to remove his shoes. Their eyes meet for a second, before Sam nervously looks away. It’s only a flash of contact, but a nervous flutter threads its way through Castiel’s gut - leaving a pleasurable tightness in its wake. Definitely blindfolded. Nothing requires that the penitent be robbed of his sight, but Castiel knows the trust in those eyes will be his undoing.

Sam finishes disrobing and faces Castiel again – his expression showing more than a little uncertainty, now that he’s committed himself. Gathering himself for the ordeal ahead, Castiel pushes off the wall and closes half the distance separating them in two confident strides. “Kneel.”

His reaction is immediate – as much a response to the bite of command in the angel’s tone as the instruction itself. Castiel begins slowly pacing a circle, marking Sam’s posture, his expression – anything and everything that can be used to help achieve their goal. When Sam turns to keep Castiel in view, the angel grabs him firmly by the back of the head, and reorients his attention to a spot on the floor. “Don’t move.”

A tremor shivers across Sam’s shoulders – the only visible sign of his growing fear.

Finishing his circuit, Castiel crouches close in front of Sam – deliberately violating what the humans call his “personal space”. He turns Sam’s face toward his, forcing eye contact once more. “Understand me well, Sam Winchester. This is not some game you and your brother play for your mutual gratification. You are bending your knee to Heaven now, begging me to hear your sins and punish you in His name. There will be no ‘safe word’ here in this room tonight. Only repentance, true and deep, will buy you your release.”

Sam tries to look away…can’t. He swallows twice against a throat gone tight and dry before he can manage to whisper, “Yes, sir.” Castiel holds his attention for a moment, then nods in satisfaction – redirecting Sam’s focus back to the floor.

Getting to his feet again, Castiel goes directly to the drawer Dean has told him about. His gaze passes quickly over the jumbled assortment of items – the only things he takes for himself are a heavy black blindfold, a whip, and a pair of thick, sheepskin-lined cuffs. He returns to Sam’s side then, kneeling in front of him.

Sam manages to keep his head down, but Castiel can see his eyes widen in surprise. He sets the blindfold and whip on the nearby table, and shows Sam the cuffs. “Give me your wrists.” It takes Sam a moment to respond, and Castiel tenses slightly – waiting for him to panic.

One deep, shuddering breath, and the moment passes. Sam extends his arms, muscles so tight they’re cording under his skin. Castiel leans in, buckles on the first cuff. As he shifts around to get a better angle on the second wrist, Castiel’s thigh brushes lightly against Sam’s now-hard cock.

They’re close enough, that Castiel can feel Sam tense, hear the quiet hiss of his indrawn breath. To his credit, Sam doesn’t say anything, doesn’t break position. Castiel finishes with the second cuff and gets to his feet again, guiding Sam’s arms behind his back. A gleaming silver quick-release dangles from one d-ring – he uses it to fasten the cuffs together. Immediately Sam pulls against the connection – testing his bonds.

So much power… He wonders again if he’s making a mistake, if he should refuse to see this through. They don’t know you are compromised. Sam’s arousal in this situation is not unexpected. It can be handled, controlled – turned in service of the ultimate goal.

His own physical response to Sam chained and kneeling submissively at his feet is another matter entirely.

You can’t stop. The brothers are both looking to him for help, each in their own way. How can he refuse them anything after everything they have endured?

He grabs the blindfold, realizing when he turns that Sam is watching him. “Eyes down.” Once he has obeyed, Castiel steps in on him again. The point of Sam’s shoulder brushes against his crotch, freezing him in place for a heartbeat and making him painfully aware of his own erection.

Forcing himself past the moment, Castiel blindfolds Sam. He waves his hand in front of the black cloth – Sam’s lack of response reassures him that whatever happens next, Sam won’t be able to see.

Alone for a moment - even if it is only symbolic - Castiel retreats to the wall, still facing Sam. “From this point forward, you will speak only when spoken to.” He clears his throat, tries to steady himself. “I am empowered to use whatever means necessary to have your confession.” He is babbling now, reciting the litany in an attempt to distract himself. His palm skims across the front of his own trousers, stroking the now aching bulge between his legs.

Castiel’s breath hisses out between his teeth, and he closes his eyes against the urges rising up inside him. The failings of his physical form are fast becoming a distraction, threatening everything that still needs to happen.

You have consent.

Pushing that thought to the darkest recesses of his mind, Castiel fumbles with the button on his pants, opens his zipper, reaches in and pulls out his cock. He’ll jerk himself off. It won’t take long – Sam will never know – and then his mind will be clear for the work ahead.

“Meditate on your sins, Sam Winchester. Consider what you will bring out of this night.”

His hand is circling his shaft, when Castiel finds his attention drawn to the curve of Sam’s mouth. He knows what they do in the dark together, how they feed emotion and need. Heart thudding against his chest, hardly daring to breathe, Castiel closes on Sam again.

Reaching out with his free hand, he twines his fingers in Sam’s sweat-soaked dark hair, tugs him closer. Sam gasps in surprise at the touch, but offers no resistance. “Open your mouth.”

Blood roaring in his ears, Castiel guides his cock to Sam’s lips. Sam looks briefly startled at the first brush of skin, but then he leans into Castiel’s grip – swallowing him to the root in a single move. Castiel inhales sharply, knees buckling slightly. He flexes his fingers in Sam’s hair, trying desperately to steady himself.

Slow, sweet drag of lips and tongue against his cock, enveloping him in an impossibly wet heat…Castiel struggles to control his breathing, content to let Sam set the pace at first. He watches, transfixed, as Sam’s head moves back and forth, setting his nerves on fire.

Please…God…yes…

He has no idea how much time has passed, when Sam moans low in his throat. The sound vibrates through Castiel, tightening things low in his body. Growling softly, hand still twisted in the strands of dark hair, he fucks into Sam - grabbing control for himself. Sam is soon struggling under the ferocity of his thrusts, nostrils flaring as his body tries to take in enough oxygen to continue functioning.

So close… Castiel is barely aware of Sam now, so focused is he on the moment of release shining in front of them. When he finally comes, he nearly collapses – body jerking and stuttering as he unloads into Sam’s throat. Sam swallows convulsively, draining him well beyond what Castiel would have thought his human body was capable of.

Reality blurs around them as he finally pulls free. Sam leans after him blindly, determined to clean every inch of his cock. Breathing heavily, trying desperately to regain some semblance of balance, Castiel does not fight the gesture - shivering as Sam laves his tongue over the shrinking folds of skin.

Compromised. He can’t fight it – can’t deny it – not after what has just happened.

Finished with his self-appointed task, Sam sits back on his heels; pulling free of Castiel’s now slackened grip. Castiel lets him go, troubled to see how calm he is.

You had consent.

Castiel shivers again, deciding that he’ll deal with the implications of that later. No matter his own failings, there is still work to be done this night.

He is still needed.
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Next step, put final polish on the sequel to "Bless Me, Father" - noteworthy in that it is my first recorded *ever* Wincest piece.

Fan-gasm!!!

Sun, 12 Jul 2009 23:01:38 GMT

All right...I'm the first person to dismiss SPN casting spoilers. Kripke and co. have screwed with us in the past on spoilers, and they'll screw with us in the future.

Supernaturalwiki just posted a casting spoiler for Season 5, and linked to the actor's blog as a confirmation.

I seriously didn't think it was possible for me to be *more* excited about S5.

(This is a returning character, for the record - not something outrageously off the wall like Eliza Dushku showing up for an episode.)