Posted with permission from the artist who gifted me this drawing for my “Behind the Mask” Bane/Blake fanfiction. This drawing is from one of my favourite scenes from the story and I appreciate the fanart so much <333
please more of this, please
(and read the fic if you haven’t, it’s pure gold)
Finally! Locating the gems is proving to be slightly trickier in this fandom than, say, Inception. But I’ve now found four that I love to bits, so got to share!
I haven’t had this big a trouble deciding between a threeway ship or its possible sub-pairings since James/Sirius/Remus, so my Supernatural recs can be anything Wincestiel and its particles can offer. Mainly, of course, Wincest and Destiel.
All ships have the same challenge, though. Regardless of how saturated in UST Supernatural is, the characters (Dean in particular) are very tricky to develop into a relationship. The characters lose credibility easily, and/or the whole thing just feels awkward.
But not in these fics. Here we have one interpretation of “what was always there”, one spell that just happens to require sex, an extended version of a brotherly playfight, and one obsession taken just a notch further.
Note that although I don’t usually rec AU, these fics all take place somewhere in the SN timeline, effectively AUing from then onwards. That’s fine. Just like all those great HP fics that were written before the godforsaken epilogue.
RECOMMENDED that you find out what I like, as that determines whether you will like things I rec. That said, THESE ARE MASTERPIECES.
Put your arms around me like a ring around the sun by topaz
Author warnings/tags: Hurt/Comfort, Sex Magic, Case Fic, First Time, Podfic Available
Author summary: “I dunno, man,” Dean says, after Sam literally shakes him to get him to focus. “I don’t feel bad, just… not there all the time. Like there’s a hole or something and it’s sucking me down into it.”
They’re a day-and-a-half drive from Bobby’s; Sam makes it in a little over eight hours.
My comments: The text has a unique, endearing flow, the original character is a fantastic addition, the background story is nice and Supernatural-y, some of the dialogue absolutely hilarious - Dean’s lines in particular, just like in SN. There’s a threesome to get through, all of which was not entirely comfortable for me to read, but the reward that awaits at the end is so sweet. A very credible transformation from brothers into, uh, brothers-in-arms.
When I melted: One bed or two?
Dean doesn’t listen to eurythmics by Annie_D (scaramouche)
Author summary: Dean and Castiel share a bed. It starts out platonic, and then becomes something else.
Author warnings/tags: First Time, Plot What Plot, Wet Dream, Frottage, Dry Humping
My comments: This one is a PWP and proud. I love all Destiel that rides with Castiel’s examinations of the human nature and subsequent quasi-accidental desires, and like always when I rec PWPs, I rec them because they’re hot. Here, you can almost touch that excitement of crossing the line between friendship and, well, ship. I also like Dean’s thinking and logic here (or lack thereof).
When I melted: “There was plenty of empty white cotton between them after Dean took his turn getting under, but then he made the mistake of looking up at Cas, because of course Cas was staring straight at him.”
High fantastical by gunsandbutter
Author summary: Dean Winchester wakes up just in time in drown, and things only get worse from there. SPN/Twelfth Night crossover.
Author tags/warnings: Crossover, Crack, Humor (I don’t know anything about Twelfth Night and I forgot the crossover tag after the first minute completely.)
My comments: Seeing Supernatural in gunsandbutter’s list of works was one of the reasons why I wanted to see the series in the first place. Just to be able to read this author’s fics. Yes. That good. First of all this fic is funny as hell. Secondly I’d never had thought I’d buy Sam and Dean getting into it this way, but - this fic makes it look SO easy! Exhilarating and beautiful take on wincest, and for once the boys are not having a crisis about it. Dialogue is straight out of the series, not an inch out of place, and I could write a poem about gunsandbutter’s language talent.
When I melted: “Dean is still going to die in seven months, and Sam is still never going to forgive him for it.” (There is also an unforgettable passage about a grin on Dean’s face.)
Time on my hands by murron
Author warnings/tags: Time Travel, First Time, Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Season/Series 06
Author summary: Raphael traps Dean and Cas in 1943.
My comments: Seriously, wow. The best thing about this fic is how it approaches Destiel, explains it so plausibly and with such depth that you really don’t see how it could be any other way. The same goes for Castiel, whose soul is bared in a way I have never seen before. The setting is sweet, I finished the fic heart full of longing and love.
When I melted: “You better remember me. And you damn well remember who you are, too.“ Fuck I think I just died.
And Soni, dude, I have to finish this with your: ￼
(originally posted here)
PS. All my fic recs are behind this tag
“Hang on, darling,” Eames said when Arthur collapsed against him. “Let’s get you out of here, patch a bit and you’ll be fine.” But he could not get them out, not with the gunfight still going on in the background. So he found the first closet and dragged Arthur in.
“Totem,” Arthur muttered against Eames’ shoulder.
“Sorry, love, this is not a dream. Things went tits up topside. We were made.” Eames closed the door and prepared to lay Arthur down. Just then, he heard it. A sentence, muffled against Eames’ shoulder.
“At least - at least I got to know what you smell like.”
What? Eames rewinded his memory to double check that he had actually heard what he had heard.
“You’re hallucinating,” he said, more to himself than Arthur, and for some reason he would never come to figure out, lifted Arthur’s vest and shirt right there, standing up against the wall, to check the gunshot wound.
Eames found an exit wound from Arthur’s back. The bullet had pierced through the whole body but the shot was so close to Arthur’s side that Eames knew all vital organs were intact. All he needed to do was to stop the bleeding.
“And I got you to touch my belly.” The words were a mere whisper, and Eames’ gaze snapped up just in time to catch the faintest of smiles.
Fuck. He must think I am someone else. Who knew Arthur cared about people touching his belly? For a brief moment Eames wanted to dislocate the limbs of whoever Arthur wanted to stroke him, but he pushed the thought away. It’s Arthur, Eames reminded himself as always. Years of working together had taught him to remember the cold truth. He probably doesn’t like blokes. He definitely doesn’t like you. He has no imagination.
“Eames,” Arthur whispered then, and turned his head until his lips were against Eames’ neck. Eames went still with shock when he felt what could only have been the beginnings of a this cannot be real this cannot be fucking Arthur saying things like this and fucking hell is this a fucking kiss what the fuck and then Arthur’s knees buckled as he lost consciousness.
When Arthur woke up in the hospital a day later, he said he didn’t remember anything after getting shot.
why on earth is it that whenever i accidentally open tumblr at work, all i see is thor nailing a crying loki into mattress and various other graphic variations of the same theme, and when i am actually in privacy, then my dash is full of cute kitties and political analyses?