#featherverse

[flaffizz]

Wings(5) - BruDick

[flaffizz]

Wings(4) - Dick and Bruce All drawing with wings are inspired from this wonderful fanfic >> http://archiveofourown.org/works/8002795

I pulled out old sketches and finished some up, cause I got okay from the auther~:D Yay! Thank you Laroyena!! (Happy♥)

[flaffizz]

Wings(3) - Dick and  Damian(with baby fluffy wings)

[flaffizz]

Wings(2) - Wing hug Jason/Dick

[flaffizz]

Wings(1) Kon/Tim Inspired from a wonderful facfic on AO3

[lalaleliana-blog]

remember the good old days of christina chrissy winchester and her demon girlfriend liza

[affa9262]

If any of you have heard me talk about a fansite for Morgan and Feather, here's basically where things stand

I contacted the person running the site, he informed me that the site was crashing because more people visited it than it was meant to handle.

Oddi and I made a forum (I’ll put the link below) on proboards. We thought it would be helpful since proboards can hold half a million people and nothing bad happens, also from what I’d heard about the site a forum could accomplish everything that went on on the other site on a forum.

The creator of the website apparently got mad??? He wanted Cass to fix the site rather than have people move to a new one, even though if it was crashing because of amount of people and probably would have just needed to get fixed again later. The guy banned Cass from the site.

Oddi and I still never got the links to the site even though they were in fact sent, they just never made it to either of our emails -shrugs-

Since the creator of the site was angry about the forum being made, the chances he’ll tell the people on the fansite about it are pretty much 0.

I don’t have any contact with this supposed fanbase, and now that he’s been banned, neither does cass.

UNLESS OF COURSE SOME OF THEM FOLLOW ME HERE (which I’ve been told some do???) SO IF YOU ARE FROM DAUGHTERSOFXANA (or just someone who likes Morgan, Feather, or the universe in world war xana) COME TO OUR FORUM CALLED SUPERHUMAN MIGHT (Oddi made the name and she’ll probably end up doing most of the admin stuff)

http://withavengeance.proboards.com/index.cgi <—- le link

I sincerely apologize if this just makes the creator of the site angrier or if this is just taking up space on your dash.

[wintrydarling-blog]

woW I FOUND IT BUT IT NEEDS REVISING REALLY BADLY???????

the beginning i like pretty well though have that at least hhhhhhh

-- 

“Dude, are you okay?” Sam asked finally, giving his brother an exasperated look. “Not gonna lie, you're kind of scaring me here.”

“I'm fine, Sam,” Dean said flatly without so much as a glance towards him.

Sam sucked a breath in through his teeth and puffed out his cheeks as he released it. He almost wanted to reach over and turn on the radio, but he had the feeling Dean would probably just shove his hand away, and then punch him in the arm for good measure, so he let it go. Still, it was definitely uncomfortable to be sitting in the passenger seat with the car dead silent.

“I said I'm fine.”

“I'm just saying! I mean, you say some pretty stupid things sometimes, I know that, Cas knows that too, but--”

“Sam, if you don't shut your mouth I swear,” Dean growled, his hands tightening on the steering wheel.

Sam rolled his eyes and turned to stare out the window. There was no point arguing with Dean when he was like this.

It started to snow again as they merged onto the highway that would take them back home, and after a very long moment, Dean said, in a low voice, “Three weeks.”

“I know,” Sam said.

“It's been three weeks, Sammy,” he repeated, and for the first time he looked at Sam, his eyes desperate. “Three weeks with no nothing, no dreams, no visits, not even a goddamn phone call. Three weeks—would it kill him to say hello?”

“It probably wouldn't kill you to say you're sorry,” Sam pointed out dryly, “but that doesn't mean you're going to do it.”

“Dammit!” Dean roared, smacking his fist into the wheel. “I've said I'm sorry, he's not friggin' listening to me!”

“You did tell him to get the hell out,” Sam reminded him. “And that you never wanted to see him again.”

Dean didn't speak.

“And you punched him in the face,” Sam added, counting on his fingers. “Twice. And threw your pendant on the ground. And stomped on it.”

“I know,” Dean snarled, looking furious, but after a second the anger faded from his face and was replaced by exhaustion. “I know,” he repeated, and fixed his eyes ahead, his throat working visibly against tears.

“Hey, maybe he'll come back tomorrow,” Sam said, putting a hand on Dean's shoulder.

“Yeah,” Dean managed in a rough voice. “Maybe.”

It was twenty minutes later that he pulled up to the curb outside of the house and climbed out into the snow. If nothing else, he thought wearily, at least he knew the heat in the house worked.

He slammed the door and turned towards the house to head inside, but halfway there he stopped dead. “What the--” he began, staring.

“What?” Sam asked as he got out of the car, and then slowly turned around.

The apple tree in front of the house had been probably seven feet high the last time they'd been home, and despite the best efforts of the resident angel, one of the scrawniest and most pathetic-looking trees Dean had ever seen. He'd kept saying it wasn't going to live through their next hunt, and he knew he'd said it then, but he couldn't have been more wrong.

In less than a month, the tree must have grown to easily six times its old height and width, which would have been pretty incredible even if it wasn't the middle of winter. Considering it was January, it couldn't be described as much less than a miracle.

That was the thought that made it click. All at once the pieces fell together: an angel, a tree, and another, very similar miracle that they'd seen a long time ago.

“Shit,” Dean said as it sank in, and a second later he was running for the front door and fumbling with his keys at the same time, trying to find the house key. He dropped the keys on his first attempt at unlocking the door, growled under his breath, and grabbed them again, jamming the key into the lock and shoving the door open.

The house was dark and silent and freezing cold. With his heart in his throat, Dean reached for the lights, his hand searching the wall blindly for the switch. He found it just as Sam came in and flipped it on to reveal the front room.

“Christ,” Sam said, looking around at the black feathers scattered across the floor.

Dean threw his jacket on the floor and sprinted into the living room, looking for the light switch there too. “Cas!” he shouted, a second before he managed to turn on the lights, and saw Cas lying on the floor, motionless. His throat tightened and he ran across the room to fall on his knees beside Cas. To Sam, he called, “He's alive, he has to be, he's breathing, he's—human.”

He hadn't been sure until that second, but Cas was definitely breathing, albeit shallowly; Dean could see the rise and fall of his chest and the faint mist that formed around his mouth when he exhaled.

“Hey, wake up,” he said desperately, shaking the fallen angel's shoulder. “Cas, come on, wake up, wake up, look at me, wake up!”

Cas stirred and coughed, his eyes flickering open. “Dean,” he managed in a voice like sandpaper. “I...was hoping...”

“Shut up,” Dean said, shaking his head. “Don't try to talk, I just wanted to know you were alive.”

“I—have something for you,” Cas said, shifting around to reach into his coat pocket.

“Don't,” Dean repeated, trying to stop him. “Just stay still, would you, you're barely even conscious--”

“Here,” Cas said weakly, and thrust something into Dean's hand. It was the feather pendant Dean had thrown at him on New Year's, with the feathers all repaired to their usual sleek shine.

“Can you stop worrying about the stupid pendant and worry about you for a minute?” Dean demanded, exasperated, but he still pulled it over his head.