aesc: (dean/cas is sacrilicious!)
Hm, apparently this did not post here. Rectified!

A new country (Dean/Castiel) NC17 | ~3150
Co-written as a bit of stumbled-upon porn/IM conversation between [profile] 22by7 and [personal profile] aesc because, well, what isn't hot about car sex? That's what I thought.

Everything leads down to this one day, when he's slumped in the passenger seat of his car, bones liquefied by heat and no sleep, with weird, not-metal music playing – beamed in from some place Dean's pretty sure isn't broadcasting on the radio – on the Impala's stereo and an angel behind the wheel. )
aesc: (merlin & arthur)
Meh, scrapped the old link post and am putting everything here because there are a couple more new things. New things, liiiike... Merlin Big Bang art! Hammock ficlet! And Timberbrit!

Hoc opus, hic labor est (This is the hardship, this is the difficulty)
Art for mariana_oconnor's Merlin BigBang fic, While His Name's Still Spoken! It's a lovely story, a Pratchettian retelling of the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice, and you should read it.a bit about the art )




The language of hands Dean/Castiel (PG) | 431
Touch, Castiel reminds himself, is how humans know each other.

The thought of high windows Dean/Castiel, Sam (PG) | 645
Out on the open water of the lake the light shifts and dances in a haze of eye-searing gold that is like an angel's true shape.

Theca, -ae Dean/Castiel (PG) |
It's the damn Apocalypse after all, the grudge-match of eternity, and the only thing worse than having a ringside seat is being in the fucking ring, fighting for your life while the audience is too busy looking for the guy carrying the popcorn and beer.

The human sky Dean/Castiel (PG13) | 1290
It's a good thing, Dean thinks as he scowls at the apologetic and flustered hostess, they aren't on a date.

Shore Leave Dean/Castiel, Sam (PG) | 623
Lying here, content to feel himself go boneless and his mind loose, as a mission... Castiel struggles to understand that, how he doesn't want much more than for this moment to roll on, changing only when Dean's hand moves from his arm to his side, from his side to his hip.


link of random: Timberbrit So is this RPO? Real Person Opera? Can I now write my Misha/Jensen screenplay?
aesc: (dean and cas)
Posting the first part of this because I have had an utterly craptastic week, and would like something to show for it. The second part should be up tomorrow or Saturday ♥

The thing with feathers (Dean, Sam, Castiel) PG | ~7,020 (this chapter)
This is possibly the most toxically cute thing I have ever written. It has wee!Winchesters and it is a fusion/reworking of Hayao Miyazaki's My Neighbor Totoro. A while ago, Mel introduced it to me as a movie that never fails to lift your spirits after a lousy day. And damn it, she's right; every time I'm feeling down and cranky and fed up about the world, one viewing takes the edge off, enough for me to be human again. While I was watching it for the first time, between the oohing and awwwwing, I observed to Mel that Satsuki (the older sister) is rather a bit like a cheerful version of Dean, watching over her adventurous and stubborn younger sister, Mei (i.e. Sam) while their father is away teaching at the university (or hunting demons). There's a powerful spirit who lives in the forest behind their house. Things developed from there.

You don't need to know the movie to follow this; some things had to be adjusted for the... darker, Winchesterian outlook on the world and all things supernatural, but I really recommend you get a hold of it. It's a lovely, simple, cheerful story.

The wow is for an oak that towers over all the other trees, the green of its leaves richer and darker, glossy against the sky. A few birds, dark arrows against the blue and the clouds, swoop and circle on the high currents before flying into the safety of its branches. The thing is huge, living, old and a lot of other things Dean's nine-year-old brain can't quite wrap around, like it's been there forever and the entire forest grew up around it. All the other trees crouch at its feet, almost, the oak standing head and shoulders taller than the rest of them, the crown spreading out and the breeze tugging it this way and that. )

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