Shamelessly stolen from
a_phoenixdragon
This one sounds amusing...
Give me the title of a story I've never written, and feedback telling me what you liked best about it, and I will tell you any of: the first sentence, the last sentence, the thing that made me want to write it, the biggest problem I had while writing it, why it almost never got posted, the scene that hit the cutting room floor but that I wish I'd been able to salvage, or something else that I want readers to know.
Current Fandoms: SPN, Dark Angel
Give me the title of a story I've never written, and feedback telling me what you liked best about it, and I will tell you any of: the first sentence, the last sentence, the thing that made me want to write it, the biggest problem I had while writing it, why it almost never got posted, the scene that hit the cutting room floor but that I wish I'd been able to salvage, or something else that I want readers to know.
Current Fandoms: SPN, Dark Angel
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I love how when Sam learns Castiel has been cast out for stealing Dean from hell, he gets righteously pissed off and mounts a bloody, vengeful rescue of the angel from the demons' vile slave market. Even more, I love how utterly lost the boy is when, as he nurses Castiel back to health, he realizes they're now tied together and tries to deal with his own body's traitorous reaction to the dark demands of psychic of ownership...
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Consciousness came back to Castiel suddenly and completely. He looked around, eyes widening slightly as he took in his surroundings. His vessel was naked and dirty, and curled up in a fetal position on a hard, packed-dirt floor. A tremor coursed through his body, and he suspected it was because of what the humans called cold, although he had never experienced the sensation for himself. Thinking about it for a moment, he decided he did not like the feeling, but there was little to do about it.
He uncoiled himself and came up on his knees. Small aches and pains littered his vessel. It was uncomfortable. Wrong. An Angel of the Lord should not be saddled with such small concerns. Realization struck through him like lightning. He wasn't an Angel of the Lord any longer. The pain of that understanding eclipsed any other he had ever felt. It blotted out every other thought, and filled him with crushing despair. So much so, that when the demon banged on the bars that caged him like an animal, all he could do was lower his face to his hands, and weep.
"Well, well, well. What have we here?" the demon rasped, greed and pleasure lacing its eager words.
Well, I almost didn't write this, because I already have a god damned plot bunny from you, you evol bitch. But you know, I seem to be your writing slave, so it had to be done. THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!!!
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What? You're only just figuring out that I'm evol? That can't be right!
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