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My Featured Fanfics




Transformers: Tarnished IdolsTitle: Transformers: Tarnished Idols
Universe: G1
Pairings: None
Rating: G
Warnings: Mild Angst, Claustrophobia
Author's Note: Time doesn’t heal all wounds. Some wounds fester. Time conversion – vorn: 83 years.
-o-o-o-
“I swear I will kill Rumble,” Starscream said, mouth twisted into a fierce grimace.
Dust filled the room, blinding his optics and clogging his vents. He forced several quick bursts of air through them. Perhaps he could clear the overworked mechanisms. It didn’t work. As soon as he hacked some out, more dust flowed in. Now he resembled some sort of pathetic organic thing, clearing its respiratory organs. He cursed quietly. At least his vocals weren’t tied intrinsically to his vents, like some fleshling.
Warnings on his HUD display pinged as his internal temperature slowly started climbing and his vents failed to compensate. Nothing serious. Yet. He planned to be long gone before the dust and heat buildup caused any permanen
TF: Entomophobia - Halloween TradeTitle: Entomophobia
Pairings: None
Rating: PG
Warnings: Disturbing imagery
Author's Note: This is my submission for the TF-SecretSanta Halloween Trade for xDeadlyxxxDesirex. This is a Halloween story, so I tried for scary. It's not as lighthearted as my normal fics, although it has its humorous moments (I couldn't help myself). I pulled on two personal fears of mine when I wrote this, to try and add some real creepiness to it. I hope it works. Time conversions: Klik 1.2 minutes, Nanoklik approximately 1 second. Comm transmissions are marked with colons – ::like this.::
The Rust Sea spread across Cybertron's equator, an immense red scar across its surface. Erratic pillars twisted into the sky. Corrosive gasses bled from the ground, slowly eating the land away, turning everything to an endless expanse of rust. Across the ground, miniature hills rose and fell, forming 'waves' that traveled as far as the optic could see.
Numerous Cybertronian artists tried to duplicate the Rust Sea in
A Conversation and a CorpseTitle: A Conversation and a Corpse
Universes (Crossover): Batman and Neil Gaiman's Sandman
Pairings: None
Rating: PG (to be safe)
Warnings: Angst, a corpse
Author's Note: Batman's natural desire to help has unforeseen consequences. This is my entry for the Crossover Contest, and my first crossover.
The copse lay amidst the alley clutter, unmoving, while the first spots of rain splattered on his Armani suit. The night buried him in shadows, the distant streetlights barely illuminating him. Thin rivulets of blood, black in the weak light, pasted down a few graying tufts of hair. His head bent backwards at an angle no living person could achieve. Knowing the futility of it, Batman still reached over and checked for a pulse.  
Looking at the dead never got any easier. It was ugly, no matter how peaceful the passing may have been. Yet still, Batman crouched besides the unmoving form, gently closing the man's eyes. The rain pattered against his hood and cape while he stood his silent vi
TF: Old Soldier FIRST DRAFT Contest EntryTitle: Transformers: Old Soldier FIRST DRAFT Contest Entry
Universe: G1 (Pre-Earth)
Pairings: None
Rating: PG
Warnings: Violence, Non-canon character death
Author's Note: This is my (mostly) unedited first draft. The contest specified minimal editing, which was extremely difficult for me. While I don't think this is bad, it's not as refined as I'd normally post. In fact, there are two details which need work/editing. Hopefully, they're not as obvious to others as they are to me (since I'm super critical of my own work).
Smoke hung heavy over Praxus, obscuring optics and clogging vents. Here, the once proud city-state stood cracked and charred, covered in ash. The glorious crystals of the Helix Gardens, the pinnacle of Cybertronian art and beauty, lay shattered. Many of the civilians were gone, long since fled or dead. Those that remained had abandoned their civilian ways, forced into more militaristic roles.
Raising above the surrounding ruins, th
Supernatural: A Good LadTitle: Supernatural: A Good Lad
Pairings: None
Rating: PG
Warnings: Bullying, Threat to a minor, Implied threat to a minor, Minor violence, Implied violence
Author's Note: I'm going to be super vague here, as I don't want to spoil which Supernatural character(s) I'm writing about. I started pondering how events could shape a person and, eventually, this little plot-bunny emerged. It's not my typical humor piece – in fact, it's rather dark – but I like it.
Teeth bared, the scrap of a pup growled and tugged at the twig. Holding the other end, a young boy – no more than five or six years in age – laughed at the young mutt's antics. Its feet slipped forward in the mud as the child gave the stick a playful jerk. Moisture and muck seeped through his linen breeches and long coat, unheeded by the boy and adding another layer of stains to the fraying clothes.
Life in the burgh continued heedless of the pair. The thick scent of dung mixed with warm flavors wafting from th
Supernatural: Of Ants and AngelsTitle: Supernatural: Of Ants and Angels
Timeframe: During Season 7, Episode 23 “Survival of the Fittest”
Pairings: None
Rating: G
Warnings: SPOILERS – Season 7
Author's Note: Two of my favorite Supernatural characters have a chat. I love these two and I really wanted to do a scene with them. Refresher (and SPOILERS for Season 7): this occurs when Cas is still crazy, Crowley has recently discovered Cas is alive, he still wishes vengeance for Cas' betrayal, and has decided that Cas would be too easy to kill as he is now and that the boys need him to take on the Leviathans.
Scores of miniscule insects scurried over the dirt. They followed signals only they recognized, trod paths only they saw. A fallen twig loomed over them, severing the insects from their invisible trail, yet they diligently circumvented it, forging a new trail. A rival insect – a lumbering, hulk of a beetle – ventured too close to the colony. Antennae flicked, touched other antennae, unspok

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Lisa
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
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Current Residence: My own reality
Favorite genre of music: Heavy Metal
Favorite style of art: Art Nouveau
Skin of choice: Mine?
Favorite cartoon characters: Starscream, Soundwave (Transformers), Prince Zuko (Avatar: the Last Airbender)
Favorite TV characters: Castiel, Crowley (Supernatural), Oz, Spike (Buffy)
Personal Quote: "I reject your reality, and substitute my own." Bonus points if you know where that's from.

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Title: Supernatural: Pastry Abuse
Time Frame: Post S10 E5 (“Fan Fiction”), Sequel to my fic “Indecently Odd”
Pairings: None
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Author's Note: This is the direct sequel to my “Indecently Odd” story, although it can be read alone. Castiel confronts Crowley about his suggestion in the previous fic.


“We've gone over this, Castiel,” Crowley said, staring down at the summoning ritual. He kicked a small puff of dirt at the smoldering remains. “It's called a phone. Use it.”

“Had I done so, you could have ignored it,” Castiel replied, glaring at the demon.

“Me? Never!” Crowley held a hand up to his chest, affecting shock. Dropping his hand, he raised his eyebrows at the angel, the corners of his mouth curving in a slight smile. “You'll never know if you don't try.”

Tightening his lips, Castiel looked aside. “I still do not have you in my contact list.”

Crowley rocked back and forth on his heels. “You don't know how to add a contact, do you?”

“It is hardly important.”

“If it keeps you from summoning at all times, day and night, then I bloody well call that important, don't you?”

“I have rarely summoned you–”

“Rarely is still too much, darling.” Crowley grimaced and held out his hand. “Give me your phone.”

“Crowley,” the angel growled, “this is not what I wanted to discuss.”

“Then, give me the phone already, mate, and we can have ourselves a nice little chit chat.”

Castiel glared at the demon's outstretched hand for a moment longer. Crowley raised his eyebrows, waiting. With a sigh, Castiel dug into his pockets. He pulled the simple device out – a phone the Winchesters referred to as a “burner” – and, after a final glance, handed it over.

The demon rolled his eyes. He swiped the screen and 'tutted' under his breath. “Really, Cas? You haven't even changed your background. Don't you know anything about this thing?”

“I … have difficulties with technology,” the angel admitted.

“You, my fine feathered friend, are a technical difficulty.” Ignoring the angel's glare, Crowley fiddled with the other's phone.

Castiel tightened his lips. “If you are completely satisfied now, can we please discuss why I summoned you?”

“The sooner, the better.” The demon continued tapping.

“You purposely introduced me to a subject that Dean and Sam found uncomfortable.”

“Pardon?”

“The,” Castiel paused, mouth open for a moment before he plunged ahead, “Destiel subject matter you proposed I look into.”

“Ah, yes, that. Intriguing stuff, yes?” The demon smirked, still fiddling with the phone.

“You knew that Dean and Sam would not enjoy that. You set me up to make them uncomfortable.”

“I'd never! Besides, how would I know that Moose and Squirrel would be there when you went perusing the web?” Crowley waved a hand in a dismissive gesture.

Castiel glared at the demon, eyes narrowed, as Crowley continued tapping on the small screen. Castiel's jaw tightened. “Given my limitations in regard to computers, it is logical to assume that I might require help. And given that–”

“Fine, fine. Whatever. So, did you like it?” The demon glanced up, one side of his mouth curled up.

“Why would you ask …? It was not real, nor indicative of reality, so why would I find enjoyment from it? It is fiction.”

“It's fantasy. And that can be enjoyable, if you have the mind to let it.” Crowley looked at Castiel, his gaze traveling from the angel's feet to his head. “Or any sort of imagination to speak of.” He returned his attention to the phone. “Pictures or stories?”

“I beg your pardon?” This conversation was not proceeding as Castiel had intended.

“When you looked up Destiel, did you look up pictures or stories?”

“The original search revealed images, but I did not understand their purpose. So I changed my parameters to written works.”

“Did you see the foursome with the pie?” Crowley smirked.

The angel cocked his head, eyebrows furrowed. “I don't understand what that means.”

“Oh,” the demon chuckled, “it's not something I can explain. It really must be seen, to be fully appreciated. Here.” He opened the phone's browser and typed in several search terms.

“That's not necessary.”

“It really is.” He swiped the screen upwards a few times. “Ah, here we go!” Crowley stepped closer and angled the phone towards Castiel. The angel made no move to look at the screen. Crowley wiggled it, eyebrows raised and smirking. “You know you want to.”

“I highly doubt that. If I remember correctly, you stated something similar when you approached me about Destiel originally.”

“I said you might want to see it. Might. You're the one who chose to act on that without any further information. Besides, this,” Crowley pointed at the screen, “is the creation of your father's creations. One might say it's his grand-creation. Shouldn't you take a gander for that reason alone, if nothing else?”

“By that logic, I would spend the rest of time hunting down every single scribble and stack of rocks humanity has, and will, ever create, regardless of any actual artistic, structural or practical merits it might have.” Castiel eyes flicked down to the phone. “While such an effort is not pointless, it is hardly … what am I looking at?”

With a wicked grin, the demon pointed out figures on the screen. “That is Dean. That's Sam. Notice the antlers? And, that one there, is you.” His finger circled around the entire image. “Of course, let's not forget the fourth 'member' of your group: the pies.”

“That's … not appropriate use of pies.” Castiel cocked his head. “Why are we abusing the pastries in such a manner?”

“You tell me, mate. You're doing it.” Crowley shrugged with a smirk.

“I am not …! That is an illustration of the Winchesters and myself, not us actually performing those acts.” He took a step toward the infuriating demon, but reigned himself in. Castiel contemplated Crowley: his raised brows, his eager grin. The angel narrowed his eyes. “You're enjoying this. You purposely wish to aggravate me. That's why you told me about Destiel.”

“I did it for your own good, yeah?” Crowley pulled the phone back and resumed fiddling with it. “Haven't you heard that tripe, that knowledge is power? You – and Moose and Squirrel – have a fan base. A rather rabid one, I might add. Oh, sure, they may think you lot are rubbish, but it won't take much to nudge them into seeing the truth. You boys are quite real and within their reach, if they know where to grab.” He glanced up and caught Castiel's gaze. “I know vice and obsession – it's my livelihood, you might say – and you aught to know what these people think, and dream, about you before they do start after you. You almost lost Sam to one, if you'll remember.”

“Because one of your demons offered her a deal.”

“Hello? Demon? It's what we do. And it was an exceptionally rare and once-in-an-millennium deal. Who gets twenty-five years? No one!” Crowley held his arms wide. Seeing the angel's narrowed eyes, he shrugged it off. “Regardless, she passed on it. You kept Sam. Life goes on. But what about the next one?”

“Your demons would knowingly entrap Sam or Dean or myself? I would not recommend that course.”

“Please. Do you have any idea the number of love charms and knickknacks my blokes go through in a year? As if we'd even notice if one targeted you lot. And,” he held up a finger, “after the number of times you prats have tried to kill me, I really don't care if one does. If I even noticed, I'd nab me some Craig, maybe a few scones, sit back and enjoy the show!” His voice, normally level and melodic, rose in a flash of fury. The demon jabbed at the phone's buttons.

Typical. Castiel crossed his arms. How many conversations with Crowley devolved into sudden outbursts? Not as many as when they first met, granted, but a demon is a demon, after all. He allowed several seconds to pass – and, perhaps, Crowley's anger to fade – before saying, “If you don't care, why share this information?”

Eyes still fixed on his task, Crowley smirked. “I never denied that I enjoyed seeing you aggravated.”

Suddenly tired of it all, Castiel sighed. Conversations with demons – well, with this one, certainly – were frustrating, to say the least. And, apparently, caused Crowley no small amount of enjoyment when he attempted them. Not precisely his intentions. Ready to end this, his gaze fell to his phone, still in the demon's grasp.

“How long does it take to add a contact?”

“It's quite complicated,” Crowley assured him. “Could take another thirty, maybe forty, minutes.”

“I see.”

Crowley glanced up. “Honestly, I thought a gullible angel would be more fun. This is a bit disappointing, actually.”

“... I beg your pardon?”

“Cas, pet, you know who – what – I am, yes?” At the angel's nod, he continued, “Then, why would you ever believe me?”

“You are lying to me?”

“There we go! I knew you could do it, if you tried.” Crowley beamed.

Castiel eyed the small device. “What are you doing to my phone?”

“Not much. Just livening it up a bit. Giving it some personality. Really, it was quite boring before.”

“That doesn't sound like a good idea. I don't believe I would enjoy any personality you might provide my phone.” The angel stretched his hand out, taking a step towards the device. “I would like it back now.”

“See? This is much more fun.” Crowley turned his shoulder, blocking Castiel's reach. “Just a moment. Almost done.”

“Crowley …”

“And, there! All done.” The demon powered the phone off, then offered it to Castiel. The angel stared at it as if it might grow fangs and strike at him. Crowley waved it at him. “Come, now. Take it.”

“What did you do?”

“It's harmless,” Crowley said with a smile, still holding the phone out. “Fine. Look, I promise, alright? Nothing I did to your phone will cause harm to befall you or anyone you associate with, blah, blah, blah. I keep my word. You know that. Any changes I made are purely aesthetic.”

Castiel glared at the demon. Perhaps he should just get another phone and not risk whatever tampering Crowley had done. That would mean, however, having Dean reprogram his (admittedly short) contact list into the new phone, informing those same contacts of his new number, and would also raise questions about what had happened to this one. Dean and Sam repeatedly assured him that his skills at deception were less than adequate and he didn't feel like divulging this particular episode to them.

Really, though, what could Crowley have done to it?

Castiel took his phone back and turned it end over end, ensuring that it appeared intact, all the while ignoring Crowley's smirk. He paused a moment, eyeing the blank screen. Tightening his lips, he pressed the power button and unlocked the screen.

An all too familiar illustration – depicting himself, Sam (with moose antlers), Dean and numerous pies in a horrific display of indecency – greeted him.

Castiel's mouth dropped open. He jabbed and poked at it, trying to hide the offensive image. The illustration was affixed behind his icons and refused to move or change in any way, despite his efforts at swiping and tapping it.

“Crowley! Remove this! I don't …”

The demon was gone.

Decorum and patience were life's blood to angels. Fierce as they may be in war, they never lost their discipline, every move calculated for maximum effectiveness, in complete control. There were times, however, that Castiel envied Dean his ability to verbally (and often, quite loudly) express his frustration. A vocal catharsis would be welcome now. Instead, he clenched his jaw and glared at the spent summoning ritual, the only visual sign of Crowley's recent presence.

He did allow himself the small satisfaction of kicking the bowl over.

What to do about the phone? The picture did not respond to any of his efforts, remaining affixed to the background. (The shared information he had received from Metatron provided the term 'wallpaper', although Castiel could not fathom how this applied to an electronic device. There were no walls and certainly no paper present. Unfortunately, that shared knowledge did not impart a means to change the image.) He tapped through a few buttons, but the options listed did not seem promising.

The phone vibrated, Dean's name and number appearing. At the same moment, noise blared forth from the device, in a regular beat that the angel assumed humans meant to be musical. A man's voice shouted out harsh lyrics. Castiel shook his head.

“I do not care what size butts you like, or whether or not you are lying about it.”

Could a caller hear music, when used in this fashion? Castiel jabbed the answer button.

“Dean, did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“You didn't hear music just now?”

“What's going on, Cas?”

“Nothing. Everything's fine.”

Silence.

Castiel coughed. “Dean, was there something I can do for you?”

“What music, Cas?”

The angel sighed. “Crowley got onto my phone and, when you called, it played a questionable song.”

“Huh.” Dean was silent for several moments. “What song?”

That song – or, more likely, its subject matter – was Crowley's idea of a joke. Castiel wasn't eager to see Dean's reaction to it. “I am unfamiliar with it.” Not a lie.

“Fine. Swing by the bunker and we can fix it. And don't leave your phone where just anybody can get to it. Common sense, man.”

“That was hardly my intention. And that is not necessary. My phone is fine.”

“I'm okay with looking at it.”

Castiel paused, remembering the illustrated pie abuse currently set as his wallpaper. “No, I don't think you are.”

Supernatural: Pastry Abuse
Sequel to:

Supernatural: Indecently OddTitle: Supernatural: Indecently Odd
Timeframe: Post S10 E5 (“Fan Fiction”)
Pairings: None
Rating: PG
Warnings: Mild Language
Author's Note: This is inspired by, and the characters' attitudes are taken from, the episode “Fan Fiction”.
Dean contemplated the double-stacked bacon cheeseburger – extra bacon, pickles, ketchup and mustard, thank you very much – with the same reverence others reserved for their beloved. He breathed in the savory aroma of perfectly sizzled beef and fried hickory heaven. Using both hands, he grasped the masterpiece and brought it to his mouth. He closed his eyes.
Sam cleared his throat.
Dean sighed. “Don't ruin the moment, dude.”
“Um, Dean?” Sam's voice was quiet.
“Dammit.”
Dean glared at his brother. Sam turned a concerned glance to him, then tilted his head in a brief nod at the only other occupant in the bunker. Scowling, Dean glanced down to the end of the library's table, where Castiel


I hadn't planned on a sequel, but I couldn't leave the last story alone. I actually have another (much shorter, hopefully) part three planned. This story grew much longer than I had planned. I'm not sorry about that. I had too much fun. :XD:

Have I mentioned how much I love Castiel and Crowley? Season 9 made me love their bickering. They're hilarious. I have this headcanon that Crowley loves making innuendos around Cas (knowing he won't get them) and putting him into awkward situations, just to see how the angel will react.

Supernatural and all associated names are registered trademarks of The CW Network. My work is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by The CW Network.
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61 deviations
218 deviations

If a tree falls in a forest, and there's no one around to hear it, does it still make a sound? 

79%
31 deviants said Of course! Duh!
15%
6 deviants said Huh, I'm not sure.
5%
2 deviants said Obligatory last choice that has squat to do with the question. :O
0%
No deviants said Duh! No way!

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:iconsinistrosephosphate:
SinistrosePhosphate Featured By Owner Apr 23, 2016  Hobbyist General Artist
Greetings, 

Thank you very much for adding my article to your list of favourites. I really appreciate your comments and your support! I hope I was able to present something interesting and potentially useful to you! 

With gratitude,
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:iconsingingflames:
SingingFlames Featured By Owner Apr 23, 2016  Hobbyist Writer
You're welcome! :D
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:iconsinistrosephosphate:
SinistrosePhosphate Featured By Owner Apr 23, 2016  Hobbyist General Artist
Nommy smile The pleasure is all mine.
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:iconpatri-ck:
Patri-ck Featured By Owner Edited Mar 27, 2016
Thank you very much for Fav and lovely comment!!!
:iconfoxbaibaiplz:
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:iconsingingflames:
SingingFlames Featured By Owner Mar 29, 2016  Hobbyist Writer
You're welcome! :happybounce:
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:iconangela-arts:
Angela-Arts Featured By Owner Mar 20, 2016  Hobbyist General Artist
Wow, you're transformers fan too? :D nice to meet you :hug:
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:iconsingingflames:
SingingFlames Featured By Owner Mar 20, 2016  Hobbyist Writer
Transformers are awesome! :la: Nice to meet you too!
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:iconangela-arts:
Angela-Arts Featured By Owner Mar 20, 2016  Hobbyist General Artist
:la: Yes they are!! x3 which one is your favorite? :D
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:iconsingingflames:
SingingFlames Featured By Owner Mar 20, 2016  Hobbyist Writer
That's a tricky one. My 'favorite' isn't just one mech, it's actually the whole command trine: Starscream, Thundercracker and Skywarp (which is why so many of my stories revolve around them). If I had to pick just one, hmm, I guess I'd go with Starscream, but it'd be damn close. :P Who's your favorite?
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(1 Reply)
:iconilluminara:
illuminara Featured By Owner Mar 17, 2016  Hobbyist Writer
Thanks for the watch, and congrats on the DD! :highfive:
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