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crack_van2010-10-19 09:16 pm
laceymcbain.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2010-10-19 09:16 pm
Entry tags:
Below Skyscrapers by aesc (R)
Fandom: SUPERNATURAL
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Length: ~ 32,400 words
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
aesc
Author Website: (Somewhat) Master Fic List
Why this must be read: There are a tremendous amount of AUs in the Supernatural fandom. This one makes Dean a detective in a world where angels and demons are known, and Castiel is assigned to help Dean with a particularly nasty serial killer. The author really captures the not-quite-human qualities of Castiel, and you'll identify snippets of canon woven cleverly through the piece, along with appearances by several familiar faces.
It's a long, well-plotted story with a nice slow build by an author who really gets these characters. Even if the world is different, the core of who they are remains the same.
A man stands there on the H that marks the spot at the center of the helipad. The breeze pulls at his trenchcoat and his tie and his hair; despite all the movement, and the galloping chorus of surprise in Dean's brain, and the sense that things are moving way too fast now in a way too unexpected direction, he's very still. When Bobby stepi>s forward to greet him, his handshake is stiff, unpracticed, and Bobby winces, a muttered You want to leave a few of those bones unbroken?, and the man says something apologetic.
The prickling on the back of Dean's neck has nothing to do with the heat, or the crushing weight of the sun, and everything to do with the man looking at him -- no, the angel looking at him, because no human has eyes like that, raw power at odds with the battered trench coat. He has to fight the urge to look away, tells himself looking away won't matter, the damn thing will read his mind anyway.
Consideringly, the angel's head tilts to the side, and it's Dean's brain crawling now, not his skin, and he can feel the angel's mental fingers flicking through his thoughts like a file drawer. Get the fuck out of my head, he thinks as fiercely as he can, but the angel only blinks and keeps looking. If there's a way to make his mind invisible to angels, Dean doesn't know it; no one does, and the angels, dicks that they are, like it that way.
"Castiel, this is Detective Winchester," Bobby's saying, voice rough and real. It's a distraction, although a brief one, the angel glancing at him before studying Dean again with that same silent intensity. "He'll be on the Circle Murders too."
Read the story: Below Skyscrapers
Remember to feedback the author!
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Length: ~ 32,400 words
Author on LJ:
aescAuthor Website: (Somewhat) Master Fic List
Why this must be read: There are a tremendous amount of AUs in the Supernatural fandom. This one makes Dean a detective in a world where angels and demons are known, and Castiel is assigned to help Dean with a particularly nasty serial killer. The author really captures the not-quite-human qualities of Castiel, and you'll identify snippets of canon woven cleverly through the piece, along with appearances by several familiar faces.
It's a long, well-plotted story with a nice slow build by an author who really gets these characters. Even if the world is different, the core of who they are remains the same.
A man stands there on the H that marks the spot at the center of the helipad. The breeze pulls at his trenchcoat and his tie and his hair; despite all the movement, and the galloping chorus of surprise in Dean's brain, and the sense that things are moving way too fast now in a way too unexpected direction, he's very still. When Bobby stepi>s forward to greet him, his handshake is stiff, unpracticed, and Bobby winces, a muttered You want to leave a few of those bones unbroken?, and the man says something apologetic.
The prickling on the back of Dean's neck has nothing to do with the heat, or the crushing weight of the sun, and everything to do with the man looking at him -- no, the angel looking at him, because no human has eyes like that, raw power at odds with the battered trench coat. He has to fight the urge to look away, tells himself looking away won't matter, the damn thing will read his mind anyway.
Consideringly, the angel's head tilts to the side, and it's Dean's brain crawling now, not his skin, and he can feel the angel's mental fingers flicking through his thoughts like a file drawer. Get the fuck out of my head, he thinks as fiercely as he can, but the angel only blinks and keeps looking. If there's a way to make his mind invisible to angels, Dean doesn't know it; no one does, and the angels, dicks that they are, like it that way.
"Castiel, this is Detective Winchester," Bobby's saying, voice rough and real. It's a distraction, although a brief one, the angel glancing at him before studying Dean again with that same silent intensity. "He'll be on the Circle Murders too."
Read the story: Below Skyscrapers
Remember to feedback the author!
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