Wanting an overview opinion on a SPN HET Story

[Slayitalldown]

Hi!

I'm just looking for an over-all opinion on a story I've already posted - I've generally got my little technical issues under control but I'm not sure if the the story is entertaining or if I'm wasting everyone's time because I've missed something due to 'writer's blindness' so a beta who can look at the bigger picture of where the story has been, where its going and have feedback to make sure I've respected the canon would be much appreciated.

The story in question is "There's A Third Option?".

I'm sure I've done or I am doing something wrong, the silence is absolutely deafening wherever I post it but my muses persist and harass me out of my sleep to write it! It's maddening!

[Aysha c.c.]

Hello Slayit I've been looking for someone that might be willing to do a Bata-Verbatim You may have noticed that few who ask for a beta actually get one. I was hoping we might help each other out, if we are compatible.

However you have neglected to post the content warnings to your story so I have no idea what is in it. I have no desire to start reading a story and suddenly barff on my keyboard because someone put scat in their story.

So just so you know I don't do MM, Scat, someone eating barff, or anything like that. I can handle mild watersports but not oral.

If your story contains none of that then you are compatible with me.

I happen to be in the same boat as you when it comes to my Teen Titans story No F-ing feedback. Over 2000 hits and not one review @#$% @#$%$ @#$# Cough cough Sorry about that. Any way you can check out my Bata request here: http://www2.adultfan...nd-a-sex-fiend/

If you don't find any of the content warnings offensive you should let me know with a reply here or on my Bata request topic.

Hers hoping we can work together.

P.S. What dose SPN stand for?

Edited July 4, 2012 by Aysha c.c.

[Slayitalldown]

Hi there Aysha!

I am a happy participant of quid pro quo and have been labelled with a great many positive adjectives and their synonyms in regards to my beta-skills and services. If I ever find the time, I'd like to be an editor so I've educated myself as best I can. I can provide a very thorough and thoughtful feedback for technical matters and overall story-telling but I have never seen nor heard of Teen Titans. Just let me know what I should know (I am woefully ignorant to the point of flinging my eyebrows up in trepidation that I may lack the qualifications from a canon point of view to be up for the task, but that's not to say I can't catch up or research what I don't understand) and what you are seeking and perhaps I may be of use to you yet!

Personal warning - I'm an Aussie, born and bred and I live in the most remote, dusty and uncultured part of Australia so you might have to forgive a few things - putting an 's' where a 'z' would go as we Aussie's side with the Brits on our English, euphemisms, common slang and brand-name merchandise might be entirely lost on me (you don't want to know what happened the first time I heard of a pumpkin-spiced latte. I live so far out in the sticks that I get frowned at for adding vanilla), an ignorance for cold weather (it gets to 9 degrees Celsius at night in the dead of winter which is called 'the dry' because there isn't a cloud or drop of water seen for six months straight - the rest of the time its up in the late twenties and early thirties and beyond in the very same day so if you are creating an atmosphere just be aware that that anything you take for granted from living in a cold climate will also stump me. It might not seem like a big deal but I've noticed that it can be. I'll never forget chatting with a marine who became a little exasperated that he had to explain every detail of riding his motorcycle in the snow because I had no idea what a 'snow chain' was) and its effects and a little bit of Hollywood glamoring - stereotypes sometimes get right past me without me noticing, particularly racial stereotypes. Its not that we don't have them in Australia its that American media is saturated with them and I've grown up used to it and when you're immersed in your own culture you tend not to spot the flaws as you do with your own and a bit of 'forest for the trees' has occurred. I'm aware of it, I do my best to educate myself but it still happens. I would easily believe that the word 'ese' is used every day and is a literal translation for 'friend' (or as we say, 'mate') had I not scoured the internet for several versions of the truth! They are little things but if you have something in particular that you want noticed and I don't, you now understand that it wasn't ignored, merely unobserved!

Now if that overwhelming exposition dump hasn't put you off, onto the next part; the story.

Now, I've just crossed the 90K word thresh-hold so my warnings are this:

• I'm a main-streamer. There isn't anything weird or bizarre happening in the story - characters aren't having sex on every page and no one is biting the heads of chickens. I rated it R/NC-17 for language (expletives and curse-words), violence (SOP for SPN) and sexual content (peeps do be gettin' busy) and the story is purposely het to keep it respectfully close to the canon. All my muses are Amazon warriors with lady-boners for Buffy-type characters so that's the worst you'll see to offend you - girl-stuff.
  
• The sexual content that does exist is explicit but I've done my best to keep it relatively tame - particularly by ff standards - you won't be re-reading 'Fifty Shades of You Know What', no one is tied up, unwilling, coerced or imposed upon, its more or less a lot of spontaneous mutual shenanigans with little or no imagination implied. Mainstream.
  
• Its long. Its kind of turning into a whole-season arc in a story. Its a lot of words, stuff is happening, there is a B and C plot-line, action mixed with drama and lots of dialogue and I'm just trying to keep it interesting.
  
• Mary-Sue. I am working my ass off to avoid it but I don't know how successful I've been so I might as well just admit that my OC could very well be a Mary-Sue. As the muses play their music, I dance to their Mary-Sue tune....
  

Okay, I hope I've added all my warnings and given you enough info to make an informed decision. Please add a link to your story, at worst and I can read it and give you an outside outside impression of how it reads. Just so you are aware, I want to be a "real" writer and write "real" books (there is no way to expunge the arrogance of how that sounds so please try to imagine I am hinting at my own shortcomings and not anyone else's and that I am just suddenly struck with laziness and a desperation to pee at this point and that's why I haven't rephrased it) and this is how I have fashioned my fanfiction so if it is not fanfiction-y enough I understand completely. Being non-fanfiction-y is basically my goal and some readers are bugged by that, which I forgive wholeheartedly. I'm looking for the ones who aren't. I do not, however hold anyone else to that standard, if your work is purely fanficiton with all of fanfictions goals and ideals then I respect that and will still happily participate - the difference isn't a deal breaker but I like to acknowledge it so I don't say stupid things like "Where is your B story" and "That chapter was a little short".

Horses and ponies. I love both but I don't try to race shetlands against thoroughbreds!

I look forward to hearing from you!

Edited July 4, 2012 by Slayitalldown

[Aysha c.c.]

Hi SlayIt, sorry I haven’t gotten back to you sooner. I've been dealing with some dental problems and haven't be up to dealing whith anything else.

I read your reply and I wouldn't say that you have scared me off. I would say that you and I appear to like different types of stories. I don't think I have ever read anything that wasn't fiction science fiction or fantasy, I just love the limitless possibilities of an unrestricted imagination. But that doesn't mean that I can't take a look at your story. I always judge a story based on its individual merits but be forewarned I don't pull punches. I won't be mean but I will be 100% honest.

Ok that said I have to ask did you check that link I gave you because I'm thinking that I'm the one that might be a little too fringe for you based on what you said in your reply and I kinda got the feeling that you might not have checked that link. Also there is a link to my story on the page that link takes you to.

Beyond all that I'm not even sure that my story which is basically a pwp is worthy of you skill and ambition. Don’t get me wrong I love my stories and I work hard to make them as much about the character’s emotions and their motivations as possible; the raunchy sex is just the gravy.

Speaking of the characters emotions and motivations: This is where we might have our biggest hiccup, as you have never seen a single episode of The Teen Titans cartoon (Yes it was a cartoon based on a D.C. comic by the same name.) it might be difficult for you to understand the dynamics of the characters interactions and I don't know how far you are willing to tack your research. The Teen Titans cartoon ran on Cartoon Network from July 2003 to January 2006. Each ep. ran for 30 min with commercials if you're up to it may be you can download them or something, though you may not be into cartoon may be you think they are a big waste of time. I love cartoons because they are like windows into other possible expressions of the universe to me which is why I like reading scifi. books.

One of the most important things you need to know about me is that though I am a smart and imaginative guy, I am also dyslexic and as such I rely heavily on spellcheck and I takes me about twice as long to read something as most people and even longer to write, so you should keep that in mind.

The reasons I write: I write mostly for myself, I have a vivid imagination and so I come up with these elaborate fanatics and if I don’t write them out they just keep going round and round in my head. So for right now I'm trying to get the pwps. out to make room for the real fanfics I want to write. Someday I could see myself writing my own original scifi and fiction stories. For now though my pasion is with physics and that is what I will focus on when I can get into school.

Another reason I write is because I want to know what others think about my stories, I mean everyone likes a good ego stroking right? And if some people don't like it I can learn to do better because I always want to improve myself in everything I do; so I love concrit.

As for you being from the land down under I think that’s really cool or may be hot at 38 or 39 C. I love diversity so I think it's great to get to meet someone from another part of the world. To tell you the truth I've thought of moving to Australia if I had the money but I think that the fact that HALF the critters on the continent and in the water for that matter can kill you would give me pause.

As for whether difference I'm form so. cal. (that’s southern California) and I've never seen snow in real life and I don't want to!!!

Now I think i'll check out your story and let you know what I think. If you can't find enough info on the Teen Titans let me know and i'll see if I can put something together.

Edited July 7, 2012 by Aysha c.c.

[Aysha c.c.]

Hi again Slayit I Read the first chapter of your story and I'm happy to tell you that I know this show and like it a lot though I have missed a lot of the episodes. Over all I would say that your first chapter is very good. You have done a good job of holding onto the flavor of the show. As you can see below I have made some changes and suggestions as to changes I would make but it's all up to you. Let me know what you think.

Sorry if the colors are hard to see

Color key

Changes I made

Things I think should be changed chainged from yellow to gold to make it eser to see

How I think or what I think they should be changed into

To tell you my opinion or to think about something

Sitting at Bobby's kitchen table, swigging from his beer bottle, Dean frowned pessimistically at his laptop. The glow of the screen highlighted the deep furrows of his brow and served to stave off the solidifying darkness of a new-born night. For Dean, it was the start of another shift in a crummy job with no pay that sucked the life out of him when it wasn't trying to kill him outright.

Tonight it was just depressing. Again, he was powerless. Again, his kid-brother needed him and he had nothing helpful to give. Again, the world was in danger and the enemy was bigger than Ben-Hur.

Again. Again.

Again.

The feeling that he had been through all this before gave him no new insight to the problem at hand. It just depressed him.

For a few long moments, Dean sat still, staring through the webpage on the screen that detailed the latest exploit of the beast. The Leviathan, parading in the meat-suit that had been the face of God... and had once been Dean's very own guardian angel. Sometimes, he had almost thought of him as a friend. He had replayed Castiel's forlorn apology over and over in his mind. Moments before he'd been devoured from within and his vessel commandeered, he had made promises. Desperate, contrite promises. Unangelic promises.

Now it was tearing apart cities in Europe and the Mediterranean, defiling and desecrating religious icons as it went. There didn't seem to be a pattern, it hit about once a week, its movements erratic and pointless. It appeared to be travelling by land and not by supernatural means - it was, compared to other ungodly things - quite slow. Bobby had searched for hours upon hours, called every number in his teledex and chased every lead he could find. A crew of high-tech hunters were on its tail and so far, no one had good news.

God had built purgatory, thrown the Leviathan in head first and tossed the key. Not another being living or dead had lived to tell tales of crossing its path.

So far as he could tell, even heaven had come up dry though he knew of a dozen souls willing to risk the flames for a shot at the beast.

Dean felt the crawling of his skin before the gravelly voice broke through his reverie.

"That thing has a sick sense of humour. I can hear it laughing from here." Crowley commented from in front of him.

Dean's frown became a glare as his eyes focused above the laptop screen. Crowley was smiling his trademark shit-eating smile and proffering a very expensive bottle scotch. It was open and more than half empty, but in Dean's experience, delicious. He'd stolen scotch off Crowley enough to know whatever faith it was offered in, it was worth accepting.

He held his consent for a moment. "No sicker than yours thinking I want to listen to anything you've got to say." Dean retorted irritably.

Crowley shrugged, pouring dean (I don’t like to repeat words like him if I can avoid it.)a glass and pushing it towards him. "I happen to be a sparkling conversationalist but I find with you, things go all one sided and I'm bored before I'm started.(I would say “ I get bored before I even start.”) However," he paused to pour out his own glass and took a sip. "tonight I'm not here to watch(to be amused by) your childishly clumsy attempts to flirt with me, as charming as you can be. I have, in fact, come to tell you something you’ll want to hear."

Dean could smell the scotch and his mouth, sour from beer, watered a little. The scotch would rinse out the stale taste almost instantly. "You've never said a goddamn word I've wanted to hear so I doubt it will be any different tonight." he said, not moving.

"Try this on for size then: Someone is pissing in my drinking water. Tell me that's not a concept worthy of a Winchester smile." Crowley bantered.

"I'd piss in it myself if I could, now get lost." Dean snarled.

"I'm sure you would, you and all your acquaintance - I have no doubt - but it's not the taste of piss that bothers me so much as it is who's doing the pissing. And that, my dear boy, is the part that's going to interest you. That party-crashing god-beast Leviathan is sending all sorts of degenerates through my gates with free passes to the VIP section - only, there isn't supposed to be a VIP section in Hell. It's all just Hell. I happen to have the complete and unabridged works of the architects of this modern spectacle we know as the great cosmic joke and I find out I'm just the first floor of a pit that goes all the way to Chaos. The bastard thing even shows me where the door is. Everything going through it is being utterly vaporised so I'm curious, why would the beast of the sea be feeding the darkness souls? Why bother sending them down another thousand floors when there's a perfectly good 'eternal torment' outlet on the first floor?"

Dean felt his heart start racing.

He looked back at his computer. The reports on the Leviathan's antics suddenly seemed less random and destructive.

"It's looking for something." Dean said tightly, feeling a cold sweat break out under his armpits.

"And its crossing state lines for it in a vertical manner.(I would say South to North direction)There's something nasty in my basement. Figured you'd be quite interested. You seem to like crawling through the muck to find the nasties down below. This could be your jackpot." Crowley said intently.

Dean swigged on his beer again, thinking. This wasn't good news. This was worse news.

"When exactly do you get to the part I want to hear?" he said impatiently.

"Ooh, so impatient." winked Crowley condescendingly. "Let me finish my drink fist."

He took a sip and then put down his glass, reaching into his coat. "This," he said, pulling out a thick file. "Is a copy of something that filthy bastard was particularly interested in. As it happens, it's been hiding, for a ridiculously long time. You'd never believe where. It's pretty heavy reading but I thought you'd like a look. Personally, I like the floor I'm on to stay segregated from the rich snobs upstairs but if we have a pest problem then its only neighbourly I give you a heads up. This End-Of-The-World crap is interfering with my administration and I'd like to get on with it. Besides, I don't really like the way things are being run. The next angel that comes along thinking it can play god is going to be the death of us. The way this reads, we might have a third option."

Dean stared intently at the stack of paper in its neat creamy cover. "Let me get this straight." he said slowly, his anger building. "You've come knocking to sell me the entire Encyclopaedia Demonica collection for the low, low price of what, exactly?"

"Let's just say some of the things Caz has alluded to in the past run counter to my vision for a new tomorrow. Or a tomorrow at all. Read this. Get rid of the Leviathan, you've saved the world before, you're just the man for the job. By the way, how's young Sammy? Flying over the cuckoo’s nest yet?" Crowley said pointedly. "Maybe we can help each other. You know I love a good deal."

Dean gave him a venomous stare.

Crowley winked at him and stood up, folding his arms before him. "Thought so. You've got thirty days."

xYx

"This is better than the Holy Grail. This is the cosmic grail of grails. This is the book the design for the grail was sketched in." Bobby said to Dean in subdued awe, flipping through the pages. Sam was still sleeping, neither Bobby nor Dean wanted to wake him, even for this.

Despite the enormity of it.

"Are you sure its legit?" asked Bobby, turning it over in his hands, wary of opening it all the way. Dean looked at him intently, pausing in his nervous pacing to rub his chin.

"Probably not. It could be a recipe book for really bad muffins but if the Leviathan is casting souls into a deeper pit that even Hell didn't know about, we have bigger problems because I thought God made Hell so Lucifer didn't have to live at home after he set the house on fire. " Dean said as he paced restlessly.

Bobby looked at Dean, stark fear on his face. (It’s not clear who has the look of fear. I would mention which on by name; something like{ bobby looked at dean and saw the stark look of fear on his face.} or {Stark fear showed on Bobby’s face as he watched Dean.}) He(Also say who looked down at the table Bobby or Dean both characters are male so it can be confusing at to which one you mean.) looked down on the table and saw the glass of scotch. Picking it up for a smell, he downed it in one swallow.

"I don't think we should sit here pondering the possibilities without knowing the full story. I'll take this half you take that half. Tell me what you find." Bobby divvied up the file and headed over to his desk while Dean sat down on the couch with his half.

They were flicking through the pages for over an hour, Dean becoming increasingly annoyed and confused while Bobby remained somewhere between sceptical and excited, when Sam wandered in.

Dean and Bobby looked up at him speculatively.

"Hi." he said, feeling a little self conscious. (Just so you know, in American English words like self-conscious are hyphenated and myself and herself are compounded into one word) The way Bobby and Dean kept looking at him made him feel guilty, like the days when he had been addicted to demon blood. It was reminding him of the shame they had made him feel because of it. He felt uncomfortable with them looking at him, it was so... pessimistically. pessimistic, and It wasn't helping his problem.

"How you feeling?" Dean asked, although he made it sound like an order. 'Report.' would have been a more efficient statement.

"Fine." said Sam passively, hoping to deflect their attention. "What are you reading?" he asked, nodding at the scattered papers.

"So far," said Bobby from under his reading lamp. "This appears to be a translation of an oddly specific copy of something more commonly referred to these days as the Book of the Dead."

Sam perked up, curious. "Are you serious? Where did you get it?" He immediately approached Dean, taking a sheet that Dean offered him. "There isn't a complete copy anywhere in the world." he added, scanning the page and reaching for another.

"Yeah well this came special delivery from the Lord Muck of Turd island." Dean said, rubbing his eyes to relieve the strain.

Sam paused. "You mean Crowley? He just gave it to you?"

"In his way." Bobby commented.

"Wait," said Sam, baffled. "We're trusting Crowley now?"

"No." answered Dean, matter-of-factly. "But if I didn't know any better I'd think the Leviathan scares the crap out of him. He was sickeningly nice and forthright."

Dean sighed, feeling a little foolish. "Now that I think about it I remember Denny Collins being that nice when he told me to stick my finger in the hole in the men's bathroom at the movies when I was ten. I'm starting to feel that way too."

"What have you found?" Sam asked, skimming the pages he held. He decided to let the Crowley situation lie for now, it deflected attention away from him. He could use the space.

"So far, squat." answered Bobby. "These are supposed to be spells but they're basically just pre-biblical Hallmark Cards. It's all translated into perfect English but most of it is pure gibberish when it's not platitudes to the unknown."

Sam cocked his head, reading the pages laid out on the floor at Dean's feet. "The Book of the Dead was a compilation of spells to guide a person's soul to the next world, each one was different and tailored to the person being buried to guide their soul to the underworld but this one and this one more are specific. Like instructions for something." Sam said, eyeing them. He wasn't sure why how he'd noticed how the way they seem to led to a certain point, the way one changing the context of the other. He eyed them closely and picking up another. There was Something about the way they spoke of the same thing...

"This isn't a book of prayers. It's an instructional guide. These are real spells." he stated.

Dean looked at him impatiently. "What?"

"Look at it." said Sam.

Dean frowned at the pages Sam handed to him and studied them. "Sorry Sammy," he sighed impatiently. "I don't see it."

Sam was plucking through the pages and started laying them out on the floor. "Look, this one is for the heart in the underworld and this one is for the heart on earth but they're backwards. 'It shall beat for eternity, hide it so no measure is taken' but this one says 'Let it lay heavy in darkness until tomorrow's light.'" he said, as though he had explained everything.

Dean and Bobby stared at him, and subtly eyed one-another over him.

Sam smiled nervously. "Do you know anything about the Egyptian afterlife?" he asked them patiently.

"Sure," answered Bobby. "On the discovery channel they said they got buried with all their bounty so they could have it in the afterlife. That's why they preserved their bodies and piled treasure around it. They even buried their pets."

"That's what you need in the afterlife, the same damn dog drooling in your crotch for eternity." commented Dean.(funny)

"Yes but there was more to it. The reason they preserved their organs is because the Egyptians believed that they were tested in their trials to the afterlife through the underworld.(I don’t understand what you mean by “in their trials to the afterlife through the underworld” consider clarifying?) One of the tests was to weigh the heart against the feather of Ma'at. If it was heavy, Ma'at would devour it, and you would go the underworld. If it balanced you could pass through to the next test. This," he explained, holding up one of the sheets. "says 'Let it lay heavy until tomorrow's light.' but it's the spell for the underworld, not the spell for the embalmers. If this is a book of the dead for someone who died, why did they want to go to the underworld?"

Dean's deep frown became (It’s just me but I don’t like using the word “became” a lot It seems lazy try using things like “shifted to, or transformed into, ect. Always look to avoid the word became if possible.)a look of alarm. "Crowley said that there's a deeper section to Hell. The Leviathan has been giving away hotel keys to the souls he sends to the pit for the underground party. Crowley wants to know what's down there."

Bobby looked through his stack and came up with a sheet. "I thought this was pretty odd but maybe it means something to you Sam." he said, offering him the paper. Sam crossed the room to read it.

"Whoa, guys, this is a spell." he said. Bobby and Dean watched him, pursing their lips and nodding as though they understood Sam was more than a little simple and needed to repeat himself again and again.

Sam almost glared at them. "A real spell. With ingredients. And an incantation. Bobby, how did you miss this?" he asked, turning to look at him.

Bobby reached up and Sam gave him back the sheet. He studied it for a moment before he realised that Sam was right. "I said it looked odd to me, I'm tired, give me a break." he defended himself. He read it through properly. The incantation was pretty simple but the list of ingredients looked a little obscure. "I'm not sure what some of these are but I'm sure I can find it in the library here somewhere, it might indicate what kind of spell it is." Bobby said a little doubtfully sounding quite unsure.

"What section did it come from?" asked Sam.

"Ah... this one." said Bobby, sorting through his piles and handing one to Sam.

Sam flicked through them curiously until he started seeing the theme. "It's a communication spell, to converse with the passed soul." he said, pulling out a sheet and showing it to Bobby.

Bobby eyed it through his glasses. "Huh. Looks like all we needed was a fresh pair of eyes." he commented to Dean.

"Yeah well we also need a fresh pair of answers, this Leviathan is still out there hunting something." growled Dean, leaving the room to fetch his laptop.

"Better get on with it then." said Bobby, handing Sam a handful of books.

xYx

Close to dawn, they had everything they needed to perform the strange spell piled in the garage. Dean was checking over things when he noticed a blood sacrifice was needed.

"Ah, where are we getting the blood?" he asked Sam. Sam glanced up at him and paused when Bobby came through the door holding up a dead raccoon. Sam and Dean screwed their noses up at it.

"Don't be so fussy. The spell was specifically non-specific about the blood and from what I can tell in cases like this it doesn't matter what you use, you'll still be able to dial out. This bastard has been overturning my garbage cans for a bit longer than I've been able to stand it. Move over so I can bleed it out.” (maybe it’s an Ausy thing but that makes little sense to me; at least contextually speaking.) Bobby said, lifting the floppy critter up over the spell-bowl. It bled slowly into the bowl and Bobby laid it on the floor near the wall when he was done, wiping his hands as he came back.

"Alright, we're good, lets dial it up." he said.

"This is just a call, right, nothing is going to jump out at us?" asked Dean.

Sam shrugged saying. "That's what it says. It's in perfect English so it's a bit hard for it to be too overly cryptic." he said. Use saying after shrugged and get rid of “he said”

Dean shook his head and picked out Ruby's knife from the sheath pulled Ruby’s knife from its sheath at his back. "Let's be prepared." he said to Sam as Bobby began the spell.

After he lit the ingredients, he spoke the incantation and with some of the blood, drew a symbol on the floor next to a concealed devil's trap.

There was a shimmer over it and then nothing.

The men looked around. Dean turned all the way around, wary. "Did it work?" he asked.

Bobby scanned the shed. "Doesn't look like. We should be able to hear something."

Sam walked over to the symbol and crouched down. "Hello?" he said tentatively to it.

"You're talking to a bloodstain." came Crowley's gravelly voice from beside him. "You really are mad."

Sam was startled and fell over to his side, but when he stood back up he lifted his fists threateningly, his face angry. Crowley raised his hands and stepped back. "Easy there Nutsy, just trying to be helpful." he said defensively as he stepped back again - then he (just to let you know, this “he” is unnecessary) stopped. Looking up, he frowned and swore. (It’s unclear as to who looked up and swore, was it Sam or was it Crowley? You should clarify.)

"You have got to stop painting these things, the look is getting tired." he hissed, glowering from (Do you mean at or toward because from only makes sense if he is standing in the devil’s trap like “glowering from the window he said”) the devil's trap.

Dean smiled at him, amused. "We like them, its stays. Never know when one might come in handy for unexpected guests."

Crowley folded his hands in front of him. "Might I ask what the fuck you're doing, sending messages through my switchboard?" he asked. "I can hear you. I get HBO down there." (good one)

Everyone turned at the sound of a sigh from the edge of the room. Dean, Sam and Bobby clustered together to stare at the wall in mortification. Sitting up, rubbing its head, was the raccoon.

"This is odd." a feminine voice from its muzzle. (OK I like this) Its black eyes blinked as it looked around. "This language is strange... are you my priests? You don't look like priests." The voice was dubious and the creature studied them intently from its slumped position.

A loss for words, Dean let his jaw flap open and closed before he found the wit to spoke.

"Um..." he said, realising he was still at a loss.

The raccoon cocked its head and twitched an ear. Sam looked at the stunned face of the other two and crouched to look at the creature better.

"Are you possessing that... raccoon?" he asked cautiously.

The raccoon straightened, its ears laying back flat.

"I do not possess things. And no, this is not my vessel. This creature is merely the device by which my voice is heard to by you. As you chose the creature to convey my words, I am insulted by the question. I am sure now that you are not priests and I have no more to say to you." it said, sounding for all the world like a typically miffed female.

Sam, chastened, stood back up and stood next to Dean feeling foolish.

"Way to go Sammy, no wonder you always strike out all the time, you pick exactly the right words to tick them off straight off the cuff." Dean murmured to him, his eyes fixed on the peeved raccoon. "Let me show you how it's done."

He stepped forward and knelt down, nodding warmly at the creature and smiling nervously. "I'm sorry ma'am, what my oaf of a brother was trying to say to you was no, we are not priests of... whoever you are, we are humble... actually, no, we are mighty hunters and we are hoping to speak with your boss about some of your... paperwork." he finished, realising he had no idea what he was trying to say.

The raccoon cocked an ear forward. "Boss?" it asked, a little incredulous. "You mean my command giver, my... superior?"

Dean paused, looking back at the other two for a moment before looking forward again and feigning a wide, friendly smile as he spoke. "Yes sweetheart, I do. Can you put us through to him. Now." he commanded.

The raccoon's ears fell back and its nose tucked down as it looked up at him wrathfully. It bared its teeth ferociously as it spoke. "I do not answer to a superior of any kind, nor would you have any right to command me if I did."

The little creature rose slowly onto its hind legs, still staring balefully as Dean stood up and stepped back slowly.

"How dare you address me so impertinently. How dare you hide in the mortal realm and insult me. I am mistress of this spell. My wrath will reach you no matter how deep I am buried." the voice growled. The lights in the room dimmed but after a few moments they returned to normal and the raccoon crouched, its ears relaxing and turning out to the side as it listened intently. It blinked and sniffed the air then sat on its haunches. It rubbed its face and looked off to the side, one ear raising slightly. The little creature looked somewhat embarrassed.

"Well, I don't have very much wrath right now." it said nervously, looking up at the men. All of them had their eyebrows hitched as high as they would go.

"Well that was fun. You're getting the pinch put on you by a raccoon!" shouted Crowley, unimpressed by the antics around him.

Sam, Dean and Bobby looked back at him and when they looked back at the raccoon, it's ears were forward and it stood straight and tense.

"Is that... a demon?" it asked, its ears flicking as it looked past the men intently.

"You've got a good eye." quipped Crowley. "Now what the hell are you doing in my basement?"

The raccoons ears lay flat back and it growled menacingly. "What are you doing on my earth?"

Sam, Dean and Bobby backed up as they watched the dead raccoon, its throat dark with blood, stalk towards Crowley on its hind legs - its hips swaying comically like a woman's. (that’s very good)

It stopped in front of Crowley and fixed him with its stare and began an incantation.

The ground began to shake and the building rattled. Crowley began to choke, slamming into the ground. The print on the ground began to sink as the raccoon kept up her incantation.

"I can't get out!" screamed Crowley. "It's a trap! You'll drag the world into Hell you mad bint!"

The trap sank steadily and the ground shook roughly. Falling over as they tried to stay on their feet, Sam threw himself towards the spell-bowl and dragged it off the table, smashing it. The raccoon continued with the incantation and the building began wobbling dangerously.

"Break the fucking trap!" screamed Crowley.

Sam lunged towards him and scratched at the paint. With a fiery rip, Crowley was gone. The ground stopped shaking and the building settled as Dean, Bobby and Sam got slowly to their feet. The kept their eyes fixed on the raccoon. It dusted its paws as it turned around.

"A devil's trap, how clever." it commented, eyeing things that still wobbled and clinked around the room. "But demons do not belong on earth." it said in its stern female voice. "Why were you fraternising with a demon?"

Dean stood up and straightened himself out. "Me first. What did you just do?"

The raccoon pondered the question. "You are bold and rude. But if you must know, your friend-demon is now dangling upside down over an abyss looking down on the chaotic churning of oblivion. He is screaming very loudly." it answered.

Sam and Dean looked at each other. Their memories of Hell didn't include oblivion.

"Now tell me why you are friends with a demon." the raccoon pressed. "And for that matter, why and how you know my magic and yet you allow demons on earth. Demons are NOT allowed on earth. That was the whole idea of Hell. Now, hell has remained as it was, so how is it that demons are getting out?"

Bobby cleared his throat. "Well, first off, it ain't our doin'. Second, we ain't friends. We hate that son-of-a-bitch and spend all our time stuffing his ilk back down there. If we knew how they were getting out we'd patch it up quick smart and pour a tonne of salt on it."

The raccoon looked at him. "Hunters... you hunt demons?" it asked curiously.

"And anything else ugly and unwelcome. At the moment our problems are bigger than demons. There's a Leviathan running around wearing a human puppet that used to belong to an angel. Best we can tell, it's looking for you. That demon gave us your calling card." Dean answered.

The raccoon sat abruptly, it's ears falling down as it let out a plaintive little cry. "Leviathan?" is whispered. "There is a Leviathan on earth? Where is Jehovah?"

"Ya-hoo?" asked Dean, tripping on the raccoon's pronunciation.

"God, idjit." Bobby said to Dean, before turning back to the raccoon. "And that's the million dollar question. He ain't around. In fact, the angel that caused all this trouble took a whack at the job and that's how this mess started. There's war in heaven and hell on earth. We could really use some help here and we've run out of answers. No offense, but we're down to scraping the bottom of the barrel."

The raccoon slumped forward and pressed it's front paws into the ground. It lifted its striped face and regarded the men one by one. "You must release me from my bonds. I have stayed too long." it stated calmly. "Do you have the spell?"

Sam left the room and returned with the stack of papers in the creamy folder. He plopped it down in front of the raccoon and retreated to stand beside Dean. Dean was staring at him incredulously, his eyes as wide as they would go. He fought the urge to berate Sam starting with the obvious question 'Are you insane?!'. Sam knew the look and shrugged helplessly as the raccoon swiped aside page after page with its paws, searching through the paper.

Bobby was just as stunned. He tried not to laugh at the absurd spectacle of the raccoon and the silent but thunderous argument in pantomime between Sam and Dean.

He decided it was time to sit down.

The raccoon murmured to itself as it flicked pages away until it found one that interested it.

"This one." the female voice said, looking at the brothers before turning to Bobby and stretching up to hand him the paper.

Bobby got up and approached warily, taking the paper to read it. "Alright." he said slowly. "An unbinding spell. Might be a few things we need."

The raccoon nodded in agreement and waited. "So, you can do this now?" it prompted.

"Ah, we might need to..." Bobby hedged, but the raccoon interrupted. "I need to be released. I cannot ascend if I am not released. It's a simple spell but it's very effective and I cannot break it myself."

"There's just one little problem." said Bobby. "Who exactly are you?"

The raccoon straightened, shaking its head. With both front paws it stroked down one ear and then the other, shaking its head again. It looked up at Bobby and blinked.

"I'm sorry," it said rather precisely. "I think I must have stroked off for a second there, it sounded for all the world like you asked me who I am."

Bobby looked hesitantly at Sam and Dean then back to the raccoon. "Listen, I'm the suspicious type. It just seems a little off to me that we have a talking raccoon that can banish things back to hell without a gateway, that understands perfect English and more unlikely, can read it too."

The three men paused, waiting. The raccoon blinked at them for a few moments.

"I am not the contradiction here, you are. You are talking to me. It's a spell. It wouldn't be much of a spell if we couldn't understand each other... now would it?" it asked patiently. "You chose the vessel, not I, and of course I can drag things into Hell. Where do you think I am? As for the matter of reading, I can read anything. It appears you are the ones who cannot. Know you nothing of my works, my words? My temples? I am known from the delta to the deserts and beyond, all the known world knows of me... where are you that you do not know of me and yet can command the great spells of my priests?" the voice asked quizzically.

"We are in the new world of America. It's sort of new. Give or take a few hundred years." Dean answered patronisingly, impatient with the conversation. "And if you're in Hell, that's where you can stay."

The raccoon chirped angrily. "I am not of Hell. I am bound here. If you have my spells then it is time for me to rise and aid my brethren. You speak of angels who think they are gods, and Leviathan loose in the paradise that it is my home. It is time for my return." it commanded sternly.

"You still haven't told me who you are." pointed out Bobby. "And we've got enough troubles without inviting more. Maybe you could give us something to work with."

The raccoon glared at him. "My name contains great power to conjure me forth, and I cannot risk it being spoken lest I am accosted in my reduced capacity. I will not give it. But surely you know of me. If you are hunters, then I am your patron."

Sam cocked his head a little. "Patron of hunters?" he asked.

The raccoon turned her gaze upon him. "Yes." it answered simply.

Sam turned to Bobby and Dean. "Ah, we just need a little time, to get the ingredients." he said cautiously, edging towards the table with the bowl of blood on it. "We'll let you go but we'll be in touch soon. Okay, well, bye for now!" he rushed, reaching out and grabbing the bowl, slinging it towards the mark he had made on the ground. When the blood splashed across it the raccoon collapsed in a heap, dead and unanimated again.

Bobby and Dean raised their eyebrows.

Sam huffed, a little excited. "I have an idea. We just need to look at something first."

So I take it that Crowley was in the devil’s trap but that wasn’t clear, the way you wrote it made it sound like he had come to their side without them noticing.

xYx

Back in the house, Sam plopped the laptop down in front of Bobby and Dean.

"Anat." he said. "You could call her the original hunter."

Dean and Bobby scrolled down the webpage. It detailed pictures of ancient paintings on walls and pottery of an Egyptian-style goddess with a bow and a sword.

"There is a tone of stuff on her, she was apparently the yang to god's yin. It's all here. Access to the underworld..." he clicked to another page. "Patron of Ramesses II, who named his dog after her..." he clicked to another page. "Known in Mesopotamia, Egypt, Uragrit, Israel... she was a big deal back in the day. There is even evidence she was once known as the wife of Jehovah. Most of this says she is both a virgin and a lover and she hacked up the great god of chaos and winnowed him into dust and spread him on the fields making her goddess of fertility as well." he finished.

"Busy girl." commented Bobby. "So, what's she doing in Hell?"

"Not sure." answered Sam. "But I did find this." He clicked to a final page.

"What's this?" asked Dean, curious. It was an occult webpage.

"The spell she asked us to do. It's to release someone from being bound to a place or symbol 'concealed in darkness'." he said.

"So let me get this straight, you think she's a the virgin goddess of fertility, gods better half and she's been playing hide-and-go-seek in the mysterious 58th floor of Hell? And this doesn't stink to you?" Dean asked him.

"Well, Dean, it's all there. Look, there's a myth about the gods giving us the written word to communicate with them and she can read anything. She dragged Crowley back to hell with a thought. Tell me you don't at least entertain the idea?" Sam asked.

Bobby shook his head. "The last thing we need is another god up here, Sam. What's she doing bound in Hell anyways? If she's a god can't she just walk out?"

"I don't think so." answered Sam, picking up the creamy folder with its unsorted pages. "I think she might have downsized herself to hide. Remember the weapons Balthazar stole from heaven? The rosewood staff, the angel oil? They're listed in here, The oil, Her tears, The staff, and Wood from a bow she stole from a hunter. There's more in here as well and from what I can tell, she's removed all of her heavenly organs and bound herself in a vessel and hid herself in hell."

"Why?" asked Dean. "Why would someone hide in hell?"

"Well, it is the perfect hiding place." reasoned Bobby. "If no one knows you're there you can't be tortured. Plus, anyone sniffing you out up here would have no idea where to look so if it looks for all the world you're dead, well..."

Dean shook his head. "I don't like this Bobby." he growled irritably.

"It's the best shot we've come across. We don't have a whole lot left to gamble with." Bobby answered softly.

"Dean, the original hunter. She might even be the one that put the Leviathan down in the first place. It would explain why he was hunting her out." reasoned Sam.

"We're just not that lucky." Dean said morosely.

"It's about time that changed." said Sam.

Edited July 9, 2012 by Aysha c.c.

[Slayitalldown]

Hi Aysha,

Thank you for your time and your detailed response. I will definitely look into your suggestions.

At this stage I'm not looking for technical corrections, more for an overview on the story as a whole. If the technical errors distracted from the story too much for you to want to continue with into the narrative then that information will be useful to me - while I do my best, one can always improve and the quality of a piece of work is really in the details - but I am unsure if this is the case so perhaps a summary to clarify?

Again, thank you for your time.

[Aysha c.c.]

Hi Slayit.

I really don't know what to say. I read the message you left and to be honest it felt really unfair. I mean I understand that a pwp might not be your thing but I thought I explained to you that my story wasn't just an excuse for the characters to have sex that it was the motivations and emotions that were important to me. Just because there isn't a plot does not mean there isn't a story. I would not call myself a typical pwp writer, this story in particular while there is very hardcore sex through and through is more about Raven, a half demon girl that hates and fears everything about herself that isn't human but through the sex she learns that there are those that can and have truly accepted her for who and what she truly is and that maybe she could too. It is also about Mikari my OC who is a sex-fiend that forces Raven into the situation. Everything that Mikari does seems on the surface to be negative and self-motivated actions but they always have a positive outcome. Now maybe I failed to convey in my first chapter the emotional nature of this story and if that is the case it would have been nice to have someone tell me that. But right now I'm feeling very prejudged and not only on the merits of my story but on whether or not I would keep up my end of the barging, one that I sought out and because I was the one who initiated our correspondence I spent ten hours reading your story and producing as comprehensive a beta as I could in the hopes of being as helpful as I could. I did this in good faith and was only awaiting your approval of my work on chapter one before continuing to chapter two. Instead I got a message telling me that I misspelled a word in my A/N and another telling me that you didn't think that you were the right beta for me. Even my motivation for seeking this correspondence was called into question when all I wanted was to convey what I thought it meant to be Raven what it meant to be Mikari and the other characters that were to come.

Now I don't know what to do, have I so completely failed to convey what I intended to my reader is it worth continuing this story. Or should I walk away now before I make an even greater ass of myself, I wish I knew the answer to these questions. Oh well guess you can’t win them all. Just so you know I hold no hard feelings I'm just not the type but I simply felt I had to say something.

By the way I really enjoyed your first chapter and I think that if you keep going and remember to pay attention to the details that make reading a story easer you will one day reach your goals. I would like to leave you with a couple of tips that most people miss another one of thoughts “Just so you know things”. One is the difference between the words Further and Farther. Farther is a measure of distance. "How much farther must we go?” Further is a measure of degree. "How much further do you think the tempter will drop?" Also the difference between Lay and Lie. People and animals lie down but you lay and object down. A Person may want to LIE low for a while but a chicken lays an egg.

Well I hope I have been of some help and good luck.

[Slayitalldown]

Hi Aysha,

We are stuck in a misunderstanding.

I appreciate your time and effort. Your suggestions have been extremely helpful to me but I need to stress that it wasn't what I was asking for. I wanted an overview of the story as a whole. I am aware that it is not a literary masterpiece, I am aware that a beta would have been more than useful before now because they wouldn't have overlooked the things I am happily ignoring like misuse of words and minor grammatical errors but I have chosen to post regardless because my focus is on the narrative. While I would happily tear it down and repost it sans imperfections in the future should I find the right beta, at this time I see no point - its readable. And lets face it, its fan-fiction. I'm not being disrespectful, its just my priorities rate it lower than other things. The investment of time you have made is not wasted - I assure you I have taken it on board - but it could have been prevented and left you with time for your own writing.

As for your story, I'm not entirely sure "PWP" is the right classification. True "PWP" is a situation in which two(+) characters find themselves in an (often semi-inexplicable) erotic situation.

"Why are you in my bed nak... you know what, I don't care. You're naked, I'm horny. Spank me! I'm a bad girl!" [insert sexy times]

Your story (yes, its a story I wouldn't dare argue that, you can write a story in one sentence that consists of religion, sex and mystery.... "Oh my God, I'm pregnant, I wonder who's it is?") seems to have more depth. Yes the sexual nature and content is a plot device and a huge part of the character development which would make your story a ficlet, not a PWP so my confusion results from this. Having said that all I could find is one chapter.

I can't tell you if its worth writing more, that is up to you. I can only offer my opinion and I am but one little person. I am not a fan of the characters or the original source material so I can't give you any real insight. To me its as new as original fiction and from this point of view I can only be unhelpful in saying that a flash-back at the beginning of the story didn't draw me in so much as put me off because I have no idea why the character is standing in the middle of a library pondering bad thoughts. I know you then say 'PWP' but its not truly 'PWP' if its the set up to a plot. I'd rather read the story itself first and you can add flashbacks later to fill me in on a character I want to know more about. First, I need to be intrigued and this did not intrigue me.

Having said that, my opinion isn't worth much to you, I can't offer encouragement for this particular story and I would hate to deter you from writing so please, don't stop because I can't offer you anything helpful. It is my failing, not yours. If you feel you are doing the right thing and telling a story that needs to be told then please continue. All I can tell you is that in my experience, fan-fiction is a fickle mistress and if you cannot write it for yourself then you will find no pleasure it in. Based on the number of hits I would be wild about the lack of reviews too but perhaps an adjustment to your summary indicating the intention of your story might be more helpful? Otherwise I have no revelation or insight that will help.

Slayitalldown.

Edited July 15, 2012 by Slayitalldown