Hey guys!

Recently, I've been developing a new series called "Never Fear (The Winchesters Are Here)"

The premise is that each of the chapters are different short stories with the reader in terrifying situations or different phobias, and the reader conquers them with the encouragement of the Winchesters or with the inspiration of them.

Currently, I have a developing list, but if anyone had something to add, I'll consider adding it on. These are still very rough ideas, but I'm open to any suggestions.

Even if you don't have suggestions, could you say what you would like to read from the list I have below, so I can determine the best ones to focus on?

Here's the list so far!

Keep in mind some of these won't make the final cut.

I'm also taking tags for this series!

Better Late Than Never

Tied up in a shapeshifter's den, arms above your head, you have a lot of time to think. The monster left you for dead, as monsters do. You thought about the numbness in your arms and the hollowness of your stomach, but mostly, you thought of the Winchesters. You wondered where they were, what they were doing, or if they were even looking for you.

After days of nothing but silence, you finally heard footsteps. You wanted to sit up and say something, anything, but your fighting energy had left you by now. Your muscles protested from hours spent kicking and straining again the bonds. Time at this point was meaningless, but soon it claimed itself over you, putting you through its trials. Dehydration could cause one hell of a headache.

The Winchesters found you bloody, two days too late. And God, they probably were beating themselves up about it. They ran in, guns blazing, but there was only you, half awake and feverish.

Your vision was tunneling, only making out two dark shapes in the dim sewer light. At first, you thought it was the shapeshifter and one of his buddies, coming back to ruin your life with your best friends' faces. It was just enough to make you weakly pull at your bonds, shaking your head.

But warm hands cupped your face, and you looked into their eyes, and their eyes were full of fear. Fear for you.

"Dean, she's alive!"

Runaway Winchester

Through all your years with the Winchesters, after running from demons and vampires and ghosts. After sticking up for one another and having each other's backs, it had never crossed your mind that you might run from them.

Here you were, bare necessities held by straps on your shoulders. A silver knife at your waistband and a loaded gun on your hip. A vial of holy water, a little bag of salt, an iron poker, all in your drawstring bag. Flannel, jeans, and steel toe boots were your current friends.

You stopped at a nearby bus stop. It was an hour wait until the next bus came, but you were confident you were far enough from the boys to relax a bit. Most shops were closed, so you just quietly minded yourself on the bench, admiring the crickets' songs and the soothing dark of the night.

Blood, Sweat, and Tears

Possible trigger? Ish?

Note: I mostly wrote this because I've been feeling sore as hell from sports and I wanted to see if I could replicate that feeling here in an angsty way.

Basically she misinterprets the Winchesters hesitation for her not being good enough to hunt, rather than their worry and fear after having lost so much family. And she resorts to unhealthy means of weightloss and exercise. There's nothing graphic though.

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Hunting has never, in the history of ever, been a skill that came along easy. To anyone. The unforgiving profession took years of work, practice, and patience to master it. Not only that, but it took research and last minute problem solving. Every hunter needed to be downright perfect if they ever expected to make it in this life.

So when you told the boys you were going to become a hunter, you didn't understand why they hesitated. Dean outright scoffed, as if the notion was ridiculous; you'd be lying if you had said that didn't hurt. Sam was a little less blunt about his reaction, but the way he bit his lip told you he was dubious. Did they have that little faith in you? You really didn't see the problem. You had worked with them for years as the research girl, gathering information and piecing each case together when the Winchesters didn't have the time to. It only made sense that you would qualify as hunter material. People, ordinary people, became hunters all the time! What made you so unqualified?

Somewhere in the cavities of your mind, a small voice whispered because the hunters that rose from nothing often had nothing to lose, and they couldn't care less if they died on their first hunt or if they succeeded in their endless quest for revenge. That's why you were different; you have a family, and it would kill them if you left them. They've already lost so much.

^Here's a rough sneak peak of my next fic. I mean, you can't really tell what's going on because every line is a wobbly mess, but that's okay.  I mostly wanted to try animating and I admit it was extremely difficult. 😅 I’ll keep at it though!

My personal favorite part is at the end, where it’s like looking at the Impala through water it’s so inconsistent ahaha

Team Free Will+ Getting Stranded

Part 1

Both Winchesters would admit that the fight wasn't going well. Indeed, even with Castiel and Gabriel on their side, that ought to have been enough to stop an army of demons, they were losing. Sorely.

Dean ducked and met with Sam once again, fighting as one as the demons surrounded them. At one point, their backs were touching. Sam had the demon knife while Dean had an angel blade.

Castiel was doing his own thing, mostly with his own angel blade. He hardly had enough juice to smite one demon, much less an entire army.

Gabriel just kind of happened to be there. Wrong place, wrong time. It was actually quite impressive; Gabriel was still recovering from his time with Asmodeus, and now after only burning his tormentor twenty-eight hours ago, he was smiting demons again. It was quite the unexpected turnout, considering two days ago Gabriel was a terrifed, broken victim who had suffered to an unfathomable number of years of torture.

Masterlist

Masterlist

(No NSFW Content)

Advice

Lovely Conversation: How to get to the climax of a story.

Top Fanfic Pet Peaves

Series

One-shots/Imagines:

General Fics (Not Reader Inserts):

Original Works:

Artwork:

Poetry

Imagine Sneaking Out to Hunt on Your Own

Anon Requested:  Just thought I'd say hello! Can I request a platonic team free will fic where the reader goes on hunts alone to feel better about herself? It starts out as one hunt but then she continues to sneak out more and more in hopes of feeling more confident, and then one day she comes back to find them all waiting for her. Maybe she gets hurt? They're all pretty angry and she cries and then Dean just hugs her really fiercely????? I LOVE your writing and I really need some flufffff.

Note: some things in the request are a bit different, but I think you'll like it anyway. :)

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Hunts often went wrong. Not once had you ever left a case unscathed or unburdened. It was almost hunter law: if a case was too easy, you were doing it wrong.

That night, it was supposed to be a 'simple, in-and-out vamp hunt'. For the most part, things had gone smoothly. That was, until the accident…because most accidents tend to ruin smooth things. If…that wasn't obvious to you yet.

Where you and the boys had planned on five vampires, an additional three vamps had apparently joined the party. Naturally, those three ambushed you.

Imagine Meeting Dean Winchester... As Hostages

It was the third day of your imprisonment when they brought him in.

It wasn't a surprise, by any means. There had been whispers of him, little rumors. Your captors sounded proud, like they'd scored a twenty point buck, or won the lottery. Whoever the poor guy was, he was a big deal. A Winchester, they said.

He was defiant, you'd give him that. He thrashed and kicked when they dragged him in, riled up like an angry bull. His mouth was taped shut, probably from yelling stupid quips that got him nowhere. Idiot.