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crack_van2009-08-13 09:46 am
liptonrm.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2009-08-13 09:46 am
Entry tags:
Strangers in Gilead by Corvus Imbrifer (R)
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Gen with a little Het on the side.
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
corvus_imbrifer
Author Website: Imbrium.net
Why this must be read: It’s the story that SPN always needed, the Winchesters as cowboys. You can't get much better than that. Told through the POV of an interesting and well-executed OFC.
A hand count or so of yards down the road to the east, in the center of the road, stood Sam Winchester. His long legs were planted firm, his shoulders back, pine straight and oak sturdy. Marie-Rose wanted to bawl, because his face looked so young and his eyes so old. The wet wind set his coat tails to crow-wing flapping to expose his gleaming Peacemaker, and his hair, as he'd lost his hat, but it didn't cover his eyes, so he didn't pay it any mind. It was as if the cold wind and dark water were part of him, or he of it, and he rose out of the earth to deny passage. Belrose stepped round his horse, hitched his horse's bridle to the post. Sheriff Buell leaned on his knees. The streets were otherwise deserted. She cursed her fool self for leaving her gun in the kitchen.
Belrose deigned to countenance Sam.
"You seem to be in my path, stranger. Best you not be." He had a voice like a wheelbarrow in a gravel pit, mostly from smoking cigars.
"Best you untie the sheriff." Sam Winchester's voice was stone.
Strangers in Gilead
Pairing: Gen with a little Het on the side.
Author on LJ:
corvus_imbriferAuthor Website: Imbrium.net
Why this must be read: It’s the story that SPN always needed, the Winchesters as cowboys. You can't get much better than that. Told through the POV of an interesting and well-executed OFC.
A hand count or so of yards down the road to the east, in the center of the road, stood Sam Winchester. His long legs were planted firm, his shoulders back, pine straight and oak sturdy. Marie-Rose wanted to bawl, because his face looked so young and his eyes so old. The wet wind set his coat tails to crow-wing flapping to expose his gleaming Peacemaker, and his hair, as he'd lost his hat, but it didn't cover his eyes, so he didn't pay it any mind. It was as if the cold wind and dark water were part of him, or he of it, and he rose out of the earth to deny passage. Belrose stepped round his horse, hitched his horse's bridle to the post. Sheriff Buell leaned on his knees. The streets were otherwise deserted. She cursed her fool self for leaving her gun in the kitchen.
Belrose deigned to countenance Sam.
"You seem to be in my path, stranger. Best you not be." He had a voice like a wheelbarrow in a gravel pit, mostly from smoking cigars.
"Best you untie the sheriff." Sam Winchester's voice was stone.