Tinder by whereupon Supernatural: Sam/Dean, season-one-ish, PG, 1,560 words. In response to a prompt by de_nugis. The sky is bright as razors, and just as sharp.
Dean gets beneath his skin, is the threat of arson, the promise of a bottle-edge to his throat at the worst of times and a presence at his back, armed and dangerous and ready to kill the first person who even so much looks at Sam funny, at the best.
Perfect. I love that edge of crazy, unpredictable danger to what Dean means to Sam and what Sam feels about Dean, the way even in the early seasons it's always something that could kill them, that there's something both suicidal and utterly safe about it for Sam. And I love the atmosphere and the weather and the unmentioned date.
I'm way behind on fic reading, but I had to read this one, since it's mine. Glad I did.
I'm so glad that you enjoyed this! Thank you so much, both for the lovely note and again for the awesome prompt that -- I'm trying to think of a less redundant way to say "prompted this," but am coming up blank at the moment. ;)
that edge of crazy, unpredictable danger to what Dean means to Sam and what Sam feels about Dean, the way even in the early seasons it's always something that could kill them, that there's something both suicidal and utterly safe about it for Sam.
Oh, that is such a fantastic description, is a story in itself!
No words. It's just the kind of story I could print out and hang in my room to read every morning. I think I will. I should. This is my favorite kind of poetry, the truest, most genuine description of seasons and love, the best inspiration I can find. It doesn't get better then this. Fuck everyone who has ever sneered at fanfiction. Your work - this story alone - stands in defiance, could alone defend the genre.
I know this sounds ridiculous, but it's really what I believe.
Not my only favorite piece (that would also be the last paragraph), but one of my favorite descriptions here:
Dean gets beneath his skin, is the threat of arson, the promise of a bottle-edge to his throat at the worst of times and a presence at his back, armed and dangerous and ready to kill the first person who even so much looks at Sam funny at the best.
I think I've told you before, but no matter: you say the most incredible, breathtaking (and kind!) things. Thank you, very much, as always. ♥
(And I don't think it sounds ridiculous at all; it sounds -- that thing about incredible and breathtaking and kind? That, exactly. It makes me want to keep writing for a very long time. Thank you.)
And I would not bring this up now, except you've already agreed and even expressed enthusiasm to be my beta, heh - would you like to see the beginning of the mammoth project brosedshield and I have been working on the last couple months? We have a truly epic AU in progress that is growing at an alarming pace. Not to scare you off, but we started it October 9th, and we are just shy of 150,000 words tonight. ::cough:: ANYWAY, I would not send you all that, of course...just the short prologue and half of the first chapter. Because we are DYING for feedback.
Would you like a summary? This is the concise version:
We put Sam Winchester in a motherfucking concentration camp for monsters.
Oh my goodness, I would love to! (Though I should possibly warn you that doing such a thing might result in me politely-bothering you to Share More ASAP . . . ;))
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Perfect. I love that edge of crazy, unpredictable danger to what Dean means to Sam and what Sam feels about Dean, the way even in the early seasons it's always something that could kill them, that there's something both suicidal and utterly safe about it for Sam. And I love the atmosphere and the weather and the unmentioned date.
I'm way behind on fic reading, but I had to read this one, since it's mine. Glad I did.
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that edge of crazy, unpredictable danger to what Dean means to Sam and what Sam feels about Dean, the way even in the early seasons it's always something that could kill them, that there's something both suicidal and utterly safe about it for Sam.
Oh, that is such a fantastic description, is a story in itself!
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No words. It's just the kind of story I could print out and hang in my room to read every morning. I think I will. I should. This is my favorite kind of poetry, the truest, most genuine description of seasons and love, the best inspiration I can find. It doesn't get better then this. Fuck everyone who has ever sneered at fanfiction. Your work - this story alone - stands in defiance, could alone defend the genre.
I know this sounds ridiculous, but it's really what I believe.
Not my only favorite piece (that would also be the last paragraph), but one of my favorite descriptions here:
Dean gets beneath his skin, is the threat of arson, the promise of a bottle-edge to his throat at the worst of times and a presence at his back, armed and dangerous and ready to kill the first person who even so much looks at Sam funny at the best.
Reply
(And I don't think it sounds ridiculous at all; it sounds -- that thing about incredible and breathtaking and kind? That, exactly. It makes me want to keep writing for a very long time. Thank you.)
Reply
And I would not bring this up now, except you've already agreed and even expressed enthusiasm to be my beta, heh - would you like to see the beginning of the mammoth project brosedshield and I have been working on the last couple months? We have a truly epic AU in progress that is growing at an alarming pace. Not to scare you off, but we started it October 9th, and we are just shy of 150,000 words tonight. ::cough:: ANYWAY, I would not send you all that, of course...just the short prologue and half of the first chapter. Because we are DYING for feedback.
Would you like a summary? This is the concise version:
We put Sam Winchester in a motherfucking concentration camp for monsters.
Since he was five.
Wanna read?
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