I'd been meaning to pick up some new Marvel titles anyway.
So it comes out today that DC decided to boot Gail Simone off of Batgirl, a baffling decision considering that the book has good sales and critical reception. Why? Well, twitter offers a tantalizing clue:
Oh, and apparently the firing happened via email. STAY CLASSY, DC!
(I'm so upset and I'm not even READING Batgirl. I'm hoping Marvel snaps her up right quick and gives her a Black Widow solo title.)
***
So I finally caught up on LJ & AO3 comments for Possession, Indiscretions and Caught Up In Circles and added them to the masterlist. \o/ (I'm often a giant failboat about responding to fic comments - I love love love them, but when I open up the comment field to respond I feel my mind grind to a halt as every word I type sounds dopey and insincere and gah. But if I don't say anything I worry that people will think I don't appreciate them. And I do! And yes, I understand that this is like complaining I have too much delicious cake.:) It is really the best of all possible fannish problems, and I love and adore everyone who so much as presses the kudos button on one of my fics. *hugs* so please don't stop commenting.)
And I know I have comments on other stories to respond to, but at least the three newest are squared away. I've also uploaded my DCSS fic to AO3! So that's all taken care of.
Now the next deadline is Yuletide on the 20th, so I'm hoping to get that out of the way by the end of the week, then I can buckle down on dc_dystopia.
***
For morganoconner for the AU My Fic Meme, who wanted an AU of ...And Into The Fire where Balthazar did need all of Dean's soul:
Dean woke up with his head ringing and his chest aching, like a couple of giants had taken turns using him as a trampoline. He cracked his eyes open and immediately regretted that decision, curling up tighter in the wet grass as the pounding in his head got even worse.
That triggered a rush of memories: Cas reaching for him in his dream, the blinding white light of Heaven, watching helplessly as Cas shivered in his lap, dying by inches. Balthazar saying he needed to use Dean's soul. Which Dean supposed explained why he felt like such shit. He forced his eyes back open, panic kicking up enough adrenaline to blunt the pain. "Cas?"
"I'm here, Dean."
The relief was better than morphine. Dean pushed himself to his hands and knees, looking up to see Castiel crouched beside him, looking pale and drawn but alive and fuck, Dean couldn't believe that had worked. "You look a hell of a lot better than the last time I saw you."
Castiel reached out a hand to steady him as Dean sat in the grass, his vision starting to swim again. "I...how do you feel?"
Dean shook his head. "Like I got run over by a steamroller, but I'll take it." Dean finally felt his head clear enough to look around, frowning when he realized they were sitting in a graveyard. "Wait a second. Where the hell are we? Where's the farmhouse?"
"Dean, it's been two months."
That snapped Dean to full attention quick. "The hell?"
"It took time for me to recover, if I died in the process this would all be meaningless. And then you...." He looked at Dean, his lips twisting in frustration. "You're very difficult to find when you want to be."
"Cas, what's going on? If it's been two months why can't I remember-"
"I put a block on your memory," Cas cut in. "I had to," he said, before Dean could protest. "It should fade in time, as you adjust."
"Adjust to what?" He noticed Castiel start to sway and sat him down, noticing for the first time the bloody sword in Cas' hand. "Cas, you sure you're okay?"
Cas let out a shaky breath. "I'm very relieved to hear you ask that."
"What's going on? What happened?" Although Dean was beginning to feel a very bad suspicion.
As if to confirm that Cas said, "You should have let me die, Dean." He lowered his gaze, as if he couldn't look Dean in the eye. "My injuries were too extensive. Balthazar required....." He swallowed hard. "Required all of your soul to save me."
Dean felt cold rush through him. "But I'm...I mean I'm not...."
"No. You're not the way Sam was." Dean wondered if there was an unspoken anymore there and was suddenly very glad for that block on his memory. Cas rubbed his forehead and Dean could see how hard his hand shook. "This hurt much more than I'd thought it would."
"What did...you know what, Cas, we'll figure it out later. Get us out of here."
"I can't." He tilted his head to the side. "I wonder if you could."
Dean tried to find a way for that to sound more ominous. "Cas. What did you do?"
Castiel shook his head, desperation in his voice now. "There was no choice. I had to gamble. You're Michael's vessel, I reasoned that if you were created to withstand that...."
"Cas."
Castiel just looked at him, defeat and exhaustion in every line of his face. "Your soul was holding together my Grace. They couldn't be separated."
"Just say what you did, Cas."
Instead Castiel nodded to him, tapping him on the shoulder to indicate he should turn around. And when Dean did finally turn his head a lot of things clicked into place, from the way his head was still buzzing to how everything seemed so loud to how his skin seemed stretched too tight.
Spread out across the mausoleum behind him was the shadow of a pair of enormous wings - ones Dean realized very quickly were his own.
***
I'm sending out cards this week, so if you want one, comment here!
Also, the Holiday Love Meme is still going on! If you have a thread in there, comment with the link! (mine's here:)
Oh, and apparently the firing happened via email. STAY CLASSY, DC!
(I'm so upset and I'm not even READING Batgirl. I'm hoping Marvel snaps her up right quick and gives her a Black Widow solo title.)
***
So I finally caught up on LJ & AO3 comments for Possession, Indiscretions and Caught Up In Circles and added them to the masterlist. \o/ (I'm often a giant failboat about responding to fic comments - I love love love them, but when I open up the comment field to respond I feel my mind grind to a halt as every word I type sounds dopey and insincere and gah. But if I don't say anything I worry that people will think I don't appreciate them. And I do! And yes, I understand that this is like complaining I have too much delicious cake.:) It is really the best of all possible fannish problems, and I love and adore everyone who so much as presses the kudos button on one of my fics. *hugs* so please don't stop commenting.)
And I know I have comments on other stories to respond to, but at least the three newest are squared away. I've also uploaded my DCSS fic to AO3! So that's all taken care of.
Now the next deadline is Yuletide on the 20th, so I'm hoping to get that out of the way by the end of the week, then I can buckle down on dc_dystopia.
***
For morganoconner for the AU My Fic Meme, who wanted an AU of ...And Into The Fire where Balthazar did need all of Dean's soul:
Dean woke up with his head ringing and his chest aching, like a couple of giants had taken turns using him as a trampoline. He cracked his eyes open and immediately regretted that decision, curling up tighter in the wet grass as the pounding in his head got even worse.
That triggered a rush of memories: Cas reaching for him in his dream, the blinding white light of Heaven, watching helplessly as Cas shivered in his lap, dying by inches. Balthazar saying he needed to use Dean's soul. Which Dean supposed explained why he felt like such shit. He forced his eyes back open, panic kicking up enough adrenaline to blunt the pain. "Cas?"
"I'm here, Dean."
The relief was better than morphine. Dean pushed himself to his hands and knees, looking up to see Castiel crouched beside him, looking pale and drawn but alive and fuck, Dean couldn't believe that had worked. "You look a hell of a lot better than the last time I saw you."
Castiel reached out a hand to steady him as Dean sat in the grass, his vision starting to swim again. "I...how do you feel?"
Dean shook his head. "Like I got run over by a steamroller, but I'll take it." Dean finally felt his head clear enough to look around, frowning when he realized they were sitting in a graveyard. "Wait a second. Where the hell are we? Where's the farmhouse?"
"Dean, it's been two months."
That snapped Dean to full attention quick. "The hell?"
"It took time for me to recover, if I died in the process this would all be meaningless. And then you...." He looked at Dean, his lips twisting in frustration. "You're very difficult to find when you want to be."
"Cas, what's going on? If it's been two months why can't I remember-"
"I put a block on your memory," Cas cut in. "I had to," he said, before Dean could protest. "It should fade in time, as you adjust."
"Adjust to what?" He noticed Castiel start to sway and sat him down, noticing for the first time the bloody sword in Cas' hand. "Cas, you sure you're okay?"
Cas let out a shaky breath. "I'm very relieved to hear you ask that."
"What's going on? What happened?" Although Dean was beginning to feel a very bad suspicion.
As if to confirm that Cas said, "You should have let me die, Dean." He lowered his gaze, as if he couldn't look Dean in the eye. "My injuries were too extensive. Balthazar required....." He swallowed hard. "Required all of your soul to save me."
Dean felt cold rush through him. "But I'm...I mean I'm not...."
"No. You're not the way Sam was." Dean wondered if there was an unspoken anymore there and was suddenly very glad for that block on his memory. Cas rubbed his forehead and Dean could see how hard his hand shook. "This hurt much more than I'd thought it would."
"What did...you know what, Cas, we'll figure it out later. Get us out of here."
"I can't." He tilted his head to the side. "I wonder if you could."
Dean tried to find a way for that to sound more ominous. "Cas. What did you do?"
Castiel shook his head, desperation in his voice now. "There was no choice. I had to gamble. You're Michael's vessel, I reasoned that if you were created to withstand that...."
"Cas."
Castiel just looked at him, defeat and exhaustion in every line of his face. "Your soul was holding together my Grace. They couldn't be separated."
"Just say what you did, Cas."
Instead Castiel nodded to him, tapping him on the shoulder to indicate he should turn around. And when Dean did finally turn his head a lot of things clicked into place, from the way his head was still buzzing to how everything seemed so loud to how his skin seemed stretched too tight.
Spread out across the mausoleum behind him was the shadow of a pair of enormous wings - ones Dean realized very quickly were his own.
***
I'm sending out cards this week, so if you want one, comment here!
Also, the Holiday Love Meme is still going on! If you have a thread in there, comment with the link! (mine's here:)