#daniel's trip for furniture shopping is clearly coming

[rainbowcarousels]

I didn't have anything for Vc Smutty Sunday ready, but I whipped up a little of Daniel's blood kink on the fly. Please enjoy.

Sometimes Daniel thought back to Louis saying that he didn’t really miss the daylight, that there were too many other things, and he thought perhaps he might have been onto something. 

Most days, Daniel didn’t awaken for long enough to get more than a glimpse of daylight before the sun set and he was whisked away for another night of exploration of whatever Armand was fixated on this week. It meant that on those strange days where he awoke before noon and struggled to get back to sleep, the day felt like it was an alien intruder. Something from a former life intruding on his current one, an ex he couldn’t get rid of and lingered on and on no matter how much he was determined to ignore them. Outside the window, the sounds of cabbies, kids shouting and the occasional clip clop of horses made even putting the blanket over his head useless.

In a moment of lost temper, Daniel kicked off the blankets and plodded off into the bathroom to take a leak.

Through sleep blurred eyes, the whole flat looked like a bomb had hit it and the bathroom was no exception. There was a crack on the sink and all too clearly, Daniel could remember lifting Armand up onto it so he could kiss him more easily. In his desperation to be closer, Daniel had pushed him hard into the basin to the point that he’d accidentally pushed the water taps on and soaked his pants with hot and cold water.

Daniel had been helpful in pulling them off with his teeth, leaving the faintest red on Armand’s skin that would be gone within the blink of an eye. Armand had watched him do it, helped manoeuvre himself to allow for it but only in the cold light of day did Daniel notice the crack on the basin where Armand had been gripping onto it.

Proof of existence, proof it had happened and Daniel wasn’t losing his mind and proof that Armand had been enjoying himself enough to lose just a little bit of control. The thrill of that squirmed it’s way through him like a slow electrocution, lighting up every nerve and making him feel as if there was sweat beginning to prickle at the memory.

The couch was an oversized, ornate piece paired with some coffee table Armand had seen in one of the thrift shops in Camden. Completely mismatched, yet looking perfect together – or at least they had. The table was now missing a leg, kicked somewhere in the heat of the passion that had overtaken them and the coffee mugs that once sat on it had leaked into the shaggy carpet. There were scratches down the fabric of the couch and he didn’t know who had made them, but the translucent stains were all him despite his attempts to wipe it away with his tongue the night before. 

There was a blooming pink on carpet from where he’d cut himself on a shard, his hands either side of Armand’s shoulders as he tried to push inside of him in a way that showed him how he felt, the enormity of it, the fierce way their love clung to his insides. The memory of Armand pulling the bloody hand into his mouth and making a noise – and it had to be a conscious choice to do so because he’d definitely drank him down before without a single whimper – that sent him thrusting desperately for completion, for union, to complete the circle of Armand’s tongue digging ruthlessly into the cut on his hand hit him full force. 

Arousal hit like a tsunami and it was fucking summer so Armand wouldn’t be up for half a day yet.

There was only one thing for it. Taking matters into his own hands, Daniel lay on the floor with his back against the soiled couch and stroked himself roughly. It wasn’t the same – his hands were too warm, he had nails that didn’t feel right and his fingers felt too big, but it was just going to have to do and he’d always had an active imagination. It helped that the memory of last night was vivid, Daniel leaning back to have something to hold onto and something stung. Not in a memory way – in a bringing him crashing to the present way. 

There must have been another shard from a cuo or glass under the couch because there was an angry red line across his palm, leaking blood. Daniel pujlled at the skin, watching as it opened and shut as he pulled it and the blood dripped down onto him. Daniel stole a taste of it, but it didn’t taste right: too metallic, too human. Something Armand liked but reminded Daniel too much of the smell from science classes on dissection days. Maybe he should go and get stitches, but it looked shallow – there was blood but it wasn’t pumping out of him, just a slow drip that slipped down onto his stomach.

The idea hit him unexpectedly and he remembered Armand’s noise as he’d licked his hand the night before. Slipping his hand over his cock, it took a few times to see the smeared redness cover it and then, mixed with pre-come and sweat, Daniel started to thrust his hand over himself. In his mind, it wasn’t his hand but Armand’s mouth, enjoying the taste of the blood as Daniel thrust his cock into his mouth, making that noise again, the desperate one, the little whimper that had left Daniel feeling helpless and fuck, that was it, that was it, he came over his hand, his stomach and the carpet at the idea of it.

Fuck,Daniel thought, looking around at the mess he’d contributed too with the giddy clarity of the post orgasmic haze. We’ve really made a mess. At this point, might just be better to move.

After they ruined it more during a reenactment, anyway.

[lia-jones]

Growing Stronger - Chapter One - Andrea’s Breakup Recovery Guide

Author’s note: Yay, part two! Posting chapters as fast as I can, because stuff is coming and you don’t want to miss (I hope so!).

In pretty much every magazine for women or teenagers, one is destined to come across something along the subject of breakups and how to recover from them. A paraphernalia of advice on what you should do, like reinvent yourself, cut communication, get hammered. I used to laugh when I read such articles, I felt so above it. Well, it turns out, I wasn’t. I was just never so broken-hearted before.

Breaking up with Victor was one of the hardest things I had done in my life, to be honest. The pain I felt could easily compare with the pain of being a victim of domestic abuse, if not worse. By the time things ended with Daniel, I wasn’t in love with him. It was a huge relief to get rid of him. But I was still very much in love with Victor. And losing him was like losing a lung, it made it so much harder to breathe.

I looked at my phone countless times, hoping he would text, or wanting to call him. I imagined myself meeting him by accident on the street, or the supermarket, the window for reconciliation opening, us together again, and hopefully, happily ever after. I ran all these scenarios in my mind, painfully remembering how good it felt to have his hands on my skin, his lips, his warmth. I laughed again at all the jokes he told me, because Victor could look cold and mechanic, but he was actually very witty and funny when he felt more at ease. And I recalled every single line of our fight, and always came to the same conclusion: our relationship was the perfect storm, and we were better apart than together.

We didn’t break up for no reason, and even though I was obviously wearing breakup rose-colored glasses, the truth was painstakingly evident. We had problems. Lots of them. Thanks to his fame I would never have a private life again, and despite our best efforts to keep the media quiet, God only knew when they would remember to revisit my abuse, or interview someone in my family, and how that would affect my work. And despite his apparent wish in wanting me in his life, I had to conclude I never was truly in his life. He hid things from me. Important things. There were years of Victor I did not know, and he was not willing to share. Huge red flag. Apart from that, I didn’t seem to be a good fit in his life either. His father disapproved of our relationship and was very clear about it. Victor’s relationship with his father wasn’t very good to begin with, sure, and it seemed that nothing that Victor ever did was good enough for his father, but still… His father was his family. People we would have to have some connection to over the years, and starting on a sour note was very dangerous, and a prelude for more problems.

And then there was another seldomly discussed but extremely painful reason: I was infertile. I was able to overcome every single thing Daniel had done to me but this. And this was huge. Should Victor be with me, I would be depriving him of something that could mean a lot to him. Even if he accepted it at first, he would eventually want a child of his own, with his features, his DNA… and he wouldn’t be able to do it with me. He wouldn’t leave me for that, he was a “thick and thin” kind of guy, so he would slowly start to resent me instead. We would end up an unhappy bitter couple. I didn’t want to do that to myself, but most of all, Victor did not deserve it. I didn’t want to be the one making him go through so much hardship.

So I decided to keep looking at my phone, put my breakup in my It’s for the best mental drawer, and focus on learning to live without him. I must confess, if my endless nights crying while gulping Ben&Jerry’s were any indicator, I didn’t start my healing process very well. I was still sad and starting to gain some weight, and none of that was helpful. So, remembering the articles I used to read about breakups, and that concluding steps like getting myself hammered and writing bitter letters were as helpful to me as crying and ice cream, I decided to create a list of my own.

Working hard was always a good distraction, so I decided I would start with that. The less time I had left to think about Victor, the better, so I took as much work as I could, leaving only a few hours out for sleep and socializing. I restarted my Krav Maga lessons and actually added some more exercise to burn the ice cream calories off. Levi immediately offered himself to be my exercise buddy, so I wouldn’t even have the time to think about Victor when I ran, which would also be a very good thing.

Those magazine articles always spoke of some kind of reinvention, and although I didn’t want to be drastic, I could use a haircut. I cut my curls in a shoulder-length angled bob, and did some blond ombre highlights to compliment my hair color. I decided to get some new clothes as well. Since my position at the university didn’t require business clothes, I decided it wouldn’t hurt to add some casual clothes, like jeans and more flowy tops. Maybe those cute sneakers I saw at that shop that day.

Bottling up my emotions was not a good idea, so I figured I should find some kind of outlet for them. Writing bitter letters was not a viable option, and Victor did not deserve them, so I settled for music instead. I missed my piano, and always thought about buying one if I truly settled in Loveland. Now I could afford it, I was working at the University and making good money. After thoughtful consideration and what I considered a true real-life Tetris experience, I finally managed to rearrange my furniture and make space for a digital piano. I would express my feelings through playing, maybe write a few songs of my own.

Needless to say, none of my friends or family took the news of the breakup very well, although I never shared the details of it with anyone. My mom, of course, tried to find out more and offer me some unwarranted therapy, but just ended up saying that, despite thinking I had made a big mistake, she wished me well and only wanted me to be happy. My father, my brother and Cristina were disappointed too. Apparently, Victor had made a bigger impression than I thought.

I remained close to Diane and Goldman, although I couldn’t discuss the breakup with them either. Diane was adamant on us meeting at least once a week for lunch, and clearly was not accepting the breakup, always hinting we would end up together again. I tried my best to steer clear off the topic, talking about her and Goldman instead, or something work-related. Surprisingly, in one of those mandatory outings, she seemed to have no intention to mention Victor.

“You are a terrible friend, you know.” Diane declared, sipping on her orange juice.

“I would ask why, but I’m pretty sure you are going to tell me.” I teased her.

“Well, I’ve been waving my hand like crazy for the last 30 minutes and you didn’t even notice what I have on my finger!” She almost yelled, excited. “I mean, it’s no use wearing an engagement ring if it doesn’t make your friends jealous!”

Yup. There it was. A lovely golden band with a considerably sized diamond in it. I gasped.

“Goldman proposed?!?!? When?”

“Last weekend.” She smiled, dreamily. “He took us to the restaurant we went to on our very first date, that Italian cute one? He hid the ring in the tiramisu.”

“That sounds really dangerous.” I laughed. “One of you would’ve had a surprise that night. Maybe a trip to the hospital.”

“Oh, just say it, you’re jealous.” She gave me a sly smile. “All you have to do is to stop that breakup nonsense, so we can pick wedding dresses together!”

“Whoa, Bridezilla! Hold your horses!” I laughed, starting to get a bit tense. “Even if Victor and I were together, which you know we are not, there would be no guarantee of him popping the question any time soon.”

“I feel so sad to hear that.” Diane almost pouted. “Was the breakup that bad? No going back? At all? You never say anything!”

“First of all, your fiancé works with my ex, so… And besides, how rude would it be of me to go around trashing my ex after breaking up with him? Victor doesn’t deserve it, he is a great guy. It’s not right to just go out disclosing facts about our intimacy because I was part of it.”

“Most girls would just badmouth the ex.” Diane frowned.

“Most girls didn’t date Victor Lee.” I shrugged.

“The upside is, if you are adamant in protecting him, it may be salvageable after all. He’s been really moody these days.” Diane continued to push the issue, sounding worried. I quickly brushed it off.

“When is he not?” I shrugged. “It’s Victor.”

“When he was with you.” Diane smiled. “Andrea, he’s hurting. He’s been sad, and reclusive, burying himself in work.”

It didn’t surprise me to know I wasn’t the only one using work as a distraction.

“Breakups are hard, Diane. He’s not the only one hurting. I won’t say much, but I will give you this. It was for the best, for both of us. It hurts now, but we will move on. I moved on from Daniel, he moved on from Mia. We will move on from each other.”

“I witnessed the whole Mia situation. Andrea, he wasn’t like this. Not like this.”

“It’s Victor. He’ll bounce back soon enough.” Or so I hoped. I felt my heart tighten with emotions I couldn’t or wouldn’t dare to identify.

That night, I resumed the staring contest with my phone, thinking about Victor. I missed his voice. I was worried about him. Instead of doing the absolute error of calling my ex, I did something even worse, I went through the pictures. I found one of my favorites, one of Victor sleeping. There was something sweet in his expression when he slept, there were none of the usual barriers he set in place. There was only Victor, and the sweetness he contained, that I was so honored to witness. He opened himself to me, let me look into his light, let me touch it and bask in it, and trusted me with this secret. And I let him down.

No matter how things ended, no matter how many reasons I could come up with to hate him, I loved him. I didn’t blame him for this breakup, I took full responsibility on that. Yes, he was hiding things from me, and yes, he did say some very hurtful things, but I was the one that hurt him the most. I slapped him and I left him. In his words, I abandoned him.

And even though I had my reasons, I still felt like a total bitch for breaking his heart like that. No amount of advice on how to recover from a breakup would help me with that.

[alchemine]

Mind the Cat - Party Animals fanfic redux 1/2

If you’re wondering whether I’m dumping some of my reams of Party Animals fanfic here...that’s exactly what I’m doing. This one really is only two parts, though. I swear. 

“One more thing. I’ll need you to look after Coco for me.”

“The cat?” Danny glanced up at Jo over his notepad, which was already crammed with action items. It was Wednesday morning, and she was only scheduled to be away until Friday evening, but the act of leaving seemed to have triggered the part of her brain where she stored everything she’d been meaning to ask him to get around to someday.

“Do you know another Coco?” Jo zipped up her bag and hoisted it onto her shoulder, pulling a face at the weight. “She has half a pouch of wet food in the evenings, and then a bowl of dry cat biscuits for nibbling later. She’ll go out on her own during the day, just make certain she’s in at night because of the foxes.”

“Half a pouch...biscuits...foxes,” Danny mumbled to himself, scribbling notes. He knew Coco, who was a scrawny, scrappy, vaguely Siamese-looking cat that Jo had acquired from a sanctuary, but hadn’t expected her to be part of his workload in Jo’s absence. Still, it shouldn’t be too bad. Like her owner, Coco was stubborn and exacting and expressed her displeasure loudly when things weren’t done to her liking, but she could be quite sweet when she wanted to be--also like her owner, though he didn’t dare say so to Jo’s face--and he could drop in easily enough on his way to and from work.

He finished writing and looked back at Jo, pen poised. “Anything else?”

“Not unless you’d like to go in my place,” Jo said morosely. “I’m not looking forward to this.”

“You’re the one who lobbied to be elected to the committee.”

“Don’t remind me. Have you got the key?”

“It’s in my pocket. Hurry or you’ll be late.”

Jo left, and Danny settled in to sort through his massive to-do list, eliminating out of hand all the items that he knew she’d have forgotten by the time she returned. This still left him more than enough to be getting on with, and between that and answering the phone, he was kept busy all the way up to early evening, when he finally closed up the office and headed to Jo’s to discharge his cat-sitting duties. 

He let himself in at the front door, and before he could even call for Coco, she came running to greet him, all noisy complaints and question-mark tail, and wound herself between his ankles so he nearly tripped over her.

“Relax, I’m going to feed you--argh! For Christ’s sake, Coco, she’s only been gone for a few hours. Get out from under my feet.”

Clearly unconvinced of his trustworthiness, Coco trailed him into Jo’s kitchen, sprang up onto the white tile worktop and paced there, mewing insistently, as he dispensed half a pouch of tuna and whitefish onto a saucer that he found in the cupboard. By the time he’d filled her dry food and water bowls, she’d gobbled it all down and was obsessively licking her whiskers, with a watchful eye on him to see whether more might be forthcoming.

“Sorry, I’ve got my instructions. Half a pouch per night.” Danny scratched her under the chin, and she leaned into it, a rumbling purr starting in her throat. “Do you like that? What if I rub your ears? Oh, that’s nice, isn’t it? Yes it is--” 

Here he realised he was starting to devolve into nonsense and stopped, turning away to lock the cat flap and set the bowls down on the floor, where there was a plastic mat with a pattern of fish skeletons round its border. 

“There you are,” he said to Coco, who looked disgruntled at having her orgy of stroking interrupted. “I’ll be back in the morning to let you out. Don’t do anything Jo wouldn’t want you to do.”

Coco let out a trilling chirp, and as he headed for the door, Danny heard the thud of her paws hitting the kitchen floor as she jumped down to investigate what was in her everyday dish. Shaking his head, he locked the door behind him, tried it, tucked the key back into his pocket and went on his way, mentally ticking feed cat off his list and already thinking about what he was going to feed self when he got home. It had been a long day. 

Getting up early the following morning to make the return trip to Jo’s wasn’t as easy as stopping on his way home had been, but he managed it and pushed the door open on a bright, quiet space. Jo had tall windows dressed with thin white curtains, and even Danny, who wasn’t a decorating expert, had to admire the way the early sunlight filtered artfully through them like something in a magazine spread. He tossed the key onto a table and his bag onto the sofa, and just then realised that Coco hadn’t come running the way she’d done the previous night.

“Coco?”

Silence. Danny pushed the door shut behind him and ventured farther into the living room, waiting to hear the sound of galloping paws. Poets might write about the fog coming on little cat feet, but Coco sounded like a herd of elephants when she got up to speed on a bare floor.

“Coco? Where are you?”

Still nothing, and now he began to worry. He knew he’d locked the cat flap, but he went and checked anyway, finding it stuck firmly shut. Had Jo left a window open? A quick inspection revealed she hadn’t. That meant Coco must be somewhere inside, lying stretched out on top of the wardrobe or lurking behind the boiler, soaking up the warmth. His mum had had a cat when he and Scott were kids that had liked to curl up on the windowsill directly above the radiator; perhaps Coco had the same habit. 

Danny looked at his watch, looked at the food and water bowls, which were still nearly full, and decided that she’d be fine until he returned that evening. He unlocked the cat flap and left again, and by the time he’d reached the corner, all his thoughts were on the day ahead. 

It wasn’t until he was on his way back again, hungry and stiff-limbed after a long day in front of a computer monitor, that he began to feel uneasy about whether Coco would have emerged from her hiding place or not--an uneasiness that turned into near panic when he opened the door and there was still no sign of her. She couldn’t possibly have got out during his visit last night, and even if she’d left through the cat flap during the day, she’d be back for the other half of her tuna and whitefish by now, wouldn’t she?

“Coco,” he called again, and his voice echoed forlornly through the empty space, in a way that clearly indicated Don’t get your hopes up, Daniel.

All right, he would have to search. He could do that. It wasn’t a very big place, and anyway he’d helped Jo move in and visited countless times since then; he knew the layout as well as he knew his own bedroom at Scott’s. He dug into cupboards, looked behind furniture, opened doors and checked the tops of things, calling out and making the most tempting cat-summoning noises he could think of as he went, but Coco seemed to have vanished into the Twilight Zone.

At that point he got either more creative or more desperate, and started looking in unlikely places just to say he’d checked them. He opened the fridge and made a mental note to place an online shopping order for Jo as soon as she got home. He pulled off the sofa cushions in case Coco had somehow managed to wedge herself down the back. He had just opened a drawer full of Jo’s bras and immediately slammed it shut again when his phone went off in his pocket, and he fished it out with one hand and answered without checking to see who it was.

“Yeah?”

“What sort of way is that to answer the phone, Danny?” Jo’s voice filled his ear and he nearly swallowed his tongue.

“Sorry. I was...distracted.”

“Distracted by what?”

“I just got in to feed Coco.” It was true enough, he thought. He would be feeding Coco if Coco were here. The fact that Jo didn’t know she wasn’t was completely beside the point.

“Oh, that’s good.” Jo’s tone softened at the mention of her pet. “How is she?”

“She’s great,” Danny said, hoping he sounded casual. “But she’s probably hungry, so I’d better go. I’ll phone you tomorrow morning and we can go over those changes to your speech. Bye.”

He hung up, glanced around to make certain he hadn’t left her bedroom looking as if it had been ransacked, and then went back to the kitchen, where he washed the saucer from the night before and dumped the rest of the food pouch onto it. Whether to lock the cat flap or not was another question: if he locked it and Coco had gone out, she would come back to a barred door, and if he didn’t lock it and she hadn’t gone out, she might slip out now and spend the night fighting with dodgy urban foxes. Then Jo would kill him, which would be a lose-lose situation for everyone.

Finally he decided to compromise: he would lock the flap, but spend the night here, on the sofa, where he’d be able to hear a commotion at the door or, if he was lucky, catch Coco in the act of sneaking out of her hiding place to refuel at the food bowl. He found an overripe banana and half a packet of stale ready-salted crisps in the kitchen and ate them for dinner, fetched a spare pillow and blanket from the cupboard where Jo kept them, and then stretched himself out on the sofa with his laptop to read about how to lure a cat.

[wanderingcas]

Week 8: General Spn Fiction 

[Thank you, everyone, for your wonderful submissions to Week 8 of Spn Fanfic Submission Thursday!! There’s some absolutely quality fics in this list, so check them out. If you want to participate in next week’s fic submissions, check out the schedule.

If you read a fic, make sure to leave a comment and make an author’s day!]

Red and White by @expatgirl 

A pre-canon look at Rowena and how she fits into a well-known tale.

Snow White. But not as you know it.

Teen & Up. 1k words. (Complete)

[Rowena, Fairy tale retellings]

Some Like It Norse (or If At First You Don't Succeed, Try Crossdressing) by @bold-sartorial-statement

Gabriel comes back, and he has a special request for Sam. It involves dressing up as bride and bridesmaid, and fake-marrying a giant to get Mjölnir back.

Teen & Up. 1.8k words. (Complete)

[Screenplay/Script Format, Sam as Thor, Gabriel as Loki, Norse Myths & Legends, Thrymskvidha, Humor, Crossdressing]

Grocery Shopping is a Type of Family Bonding by @righteousdemondean

Sam and Dean go grocery shopping.

General Audience. 862 words. (Complete)

[bigger age gap between Sam and Dean, grocery shopping, food mention, fluff]

Not a Big Deal by @braezenkitty

An abandoned coda for 12x20, wherein Dean “accidentally” comes out to Sam

General. 487 words. (Complete)

[Bisexual Dean Winchester, Coming Out, Banter]

Grace Period by @somekindofsaviour

Dean gives Toni the head start she asked for. She goes home to England to see her son.

Teen & Up. 3.3k words. (Complete)

[Antonia Bevell, Dean Winchester, 12x22 Coda]

Warning: Off-Screen Violence 

Always Stuck In Second Gear by @thayerkerbasy

After Wendy Vincente spilled the location of her brother’s secret cabin, Agents Beyoncé and Jay-Z had a lead to follow. Tracking Lucifer while confined to a pickup truck wasn’t exactly Crowley’s preferred modus operandi, but at least he was in good company.

Teen and Up. 29k words. (Complete)

[Canon Compliant, Road Trips, Frenemies, Past Crowley/Dean Winchester, POV Crowley]

Something Special by @durenjtmusings 

What makes something special? Special enough for people to pay any price, beyond even their lives? Welcome to Lost and Found, Ltd., experts in finding very, very special things. Things that can be yours if you are willing to trade something very special in return. Well, and often even if you aren’t. [Canon-compliant possible backstory for both characters and objects in Supernatural.]

General Audiences. 11k words. (Complete)

[Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Daniel Elkins, Jimmy Novak, Ruby, Bobby Singer, Original Character, Sam’s Taurus, Dean’s colt, The Colt, The Samulet, Ruby’s Demon-killing Knife, Castiel’s Overcoat and Tie, object backstories, the Impala, Ye Olde Curiosity Shoppe Trope - The Little Shop that wasn’t there Yesterday, Demon Deals, unborn souls,Impala backstory, Impala has a soul]

Everyone Needs A Hobby by @durenjtmusings

Sam has a secret - something he’s working on. And it is driving Dean crazy not to know… (Cas just wants everyone to get along.) Sam thinks Dean should a) mind his own business and b) appreciate his artistic vision.

General Audiences. 1.7k words. (Complete)

[brotherly pranking, Winchester Communication, Sam has a secret,sam has owies, serial killer statistics, dean gets pranked, Castiel is patient, Sam creates art, Sam has a new hobby, textile arts, disturbing Hannibal Lector reference, Bunker ficlet, spn season 10, after spn 10.16]

Of Hunters, Time Travelers and Angels by @nera-solani

When a SHIELD agent, who travels with the Doctor, is supposed to keep an eye on the Winchesters, things turn a little complicated when she finds her charge to have disappeared. They’re quickly found again in another universe, but the question is: How did they get there and who is responsible for this? Together they have to find out who is behind this whole mess, because something dark is lurking in the shadows and an old new enemy is making plans…

Not Rated. 9k words. (Complete)

Silence in the Bunker by @envydean

Dean’s not speaking after Mary leaves…

General Audiences. 508 words. (Complete)

[episode coda, mute!dean, Angst with a Happy Ending, canonverse]

In the Family by @lies-unfurl

While Castiel and Kelly are furniture shopping, a case of mistaken identity leads to a conversation about angels, family, and the future.

General Audiences. 1.6k words. (Complete)

[Fluff, Friendship, Light Angst, Pregnancy, IKEA, Humor, Season/Series 12, Post-Episode: s12e19 The Future]

Donna and the Case of the Haunted Cabin by @whichstiel

Sheriff Donna Hanscum investigates reports of a haunting at an abandoned cabin on a remote lake in Minnesota. What should be a simple salt and burn turns out to be something far more dangerous. A full moon, a resident werewolf, and a cranky ghost make Donna’s first solo hunt a memorable one. Can Donna survive until sunrise?

Teen and Up. 5k words. (Complete)

[case fic, ghosts, werewolves, Donna Hanscum, Werewolf Kate]

Warnings: some discussion of suicide

Lost and Found by @terence-f

AU to episode 9x06 ‘Heaven Can’t Wait’. Castiel works at Gas-n-Sip, but he does not call Dean on the possible case. He carries on his daily routine as a sales associate, for now this is all he is capable of, and does not watch the news. He remembers he wasn’t welcome to join the Winchesters— and he does not feel like taking another attempt.

General Audiences. 20k words. (Complete)

[Castiel, Dean, Nora. Castiel’s POV, canon divergence, hurt/comfort]

No Trouble with Tribble by @babybluecas

Dean brings a new housemate to the Bunker. Spoiler: it’s a bunny.

General Audiences. 757 words. (Complete)

[Fluff]

Same by @spearywritesstuff 

When you feel like you’ve lost everything, sometimes all you have left is family.

Teen and Up. 3.6k words. (WIP Chapter 1 of 2 Posted)

[Angst, Temporary Char. Death]

Chained Down by @dreamsfromthebunker

Down in that basement, Sam decided he didn’t want to still be breathing when he finally left it.

Not if it meant a life without his brother.

Mature. 782 words. (Complete)

[Suicidal Thoughts; Episode: s12e02 Mamma Mia; Coda; Torture; Psychological Torture; Self-Loathing; Survivor Guilt; Hurt Sam Winchester]

By the Grace of God (series) by @theriverscribe

When Amara raises Mary Winchester to show her gratitude to Dean, Chuck takes a moment to give a gift to Sam. He intervenes after the gun goes off and offers the younger Winchester a chance for healing beyond the physical. Healing for a soul shredded and burned.

Using a piece of His own grace, God reforms Sam Winchester’s soul and body in order for Sam to properly process the traumas of the cage and beyond.

But the story of healing is beyond the ragtag family of misfits on Earth. What would happen if angels remembered what it meant to be angels? Heaven isn’t just a system that cares for souls. Heaven is a family. And both have been broken for a long time.

Rating: Teen. 195k words. (WIP) [hurt/comfort, trauma recovery, fledgling!Sam, adult mind/child body deaged Sam, Enochian, flock and family, Heaven, angels remembering what it means to be angels, healing the universe]

Warnings: anxiety/panic attacks, nightmares, swearing, canon-level violence (only in one story, and clearly marked) 

Darkness Cannot Drive Out Darkness, Only Light Can Do That by @youarentreadingthis

When Sam goes to Lucifer’s cage seeking help to stop The Darkness, he doesn’t get what he expects. Looking for a sword that sounds like it never existed is impossible, but Sam is still confident he has the power to defeat Amara. After all, what could go wrong? (Set in 11x09 O Brother, Where Art Thou)

Teen and Up. 3k words. (WIP)

The Wheel Has Come Full Circle by @hekate1308

After almost twenty-four months of non-stop fighting, they’d learned about the portal. The portal that could bring exactly one human back to their world.

Their home.

Without surprise, Crowley realized he would actually miss Mary. Post 12x23, fix-it.

General Audiences. 3k words. (Complete)

[Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Post 12x23, Fix It]

Good Night, Little King by @justrandomspnstuff

At the age of six, Lucifer visits Sam, his future vessel.

Teen and Up. 1.5k words. (Complete)

[Dark, Scared Sam, Manipulative Lucifer, Protective Dean]