anna milton

Posted on March 25, 2013 at 5:16 pm

Posted on November 11, 2012 at 3:07 am

Posted on June 1, 2012 at 3:50 pm


and with one small edit i have shamelessly repurposed these old drabbles for the au i am talking about

02. anna swallows the light bursting at her fingertips, and feels herself pushed inside out. wings unfurl in her stomach, tearing holes in the cartography of her body – wrenched outwards as sails on which she is a hawk, a flying fish, a luna moth, breathless with god’s grace and yearning with all six wings toward the sun. she can feel these selves writhing in her mouth, ancient shreds of memory caught on the hooks of her teeth when she ripped the fire out of herself (like embalming, spat her organs out into the dirt and let them grow wild), and now the threads reel her back in. the roughness between bones erupts. anael becomes a forest, a litany of branches, roots and tongues tangling in her blood and gasping and clawing and raking at the film collected on her grace until she is only light.

03. anna used to make-believe that she was a kelpie queen among humans. the kelpie was an urge in her gut, a licking at her heart: it wanted to drink anna’s blood and run barefoot through her veins, through the clatter and sway of cornstalks and through the clouds, piled high and bright in the october sky. there was no bridle that could hold them, and so they became vast and terrible and hungry.

other times, anna was a fallen angel. her grace entered the earth through the soles of her feet and spanned miles ahead like an arrow in the hot earth. she traced the silver path of it for hours, ran like a hare or a doe and let herself crackle with movement — and how right it was that she should discover herself here. her wings could only kick dust in the faces of startled cattle where they dragged behind her, but she learned other forms of flight: in the whip of red hair clinging to her shoulders and lips and tongue; in the dirt under her fingernails; in the breeze chasing the backs of her callused heels.

this body, her body, was enormously and wonderfully capable. it bucked when she touched it, became a wild horse rearing against her fingers, so she knotted her fingers in its mane and rode a crest of thrashing legs into adolescence. when “boys shouldn’t” became a chorus, anna stomped her hooves. the brook horse was frantic within her, screaming and dragging her teachers into the water, because i am not a boy, i am and there was a menagerie of beasts leaping on her tongue in answer but not one of them enough to contain her.

Posted on May 30, 2012 at 5:03 am













sparseparsley:#a challenge to the thingstielers#oh ho


no but see but all the cheerios are the souls in hell, because hell is other cheerios, and they’re crowding all on top of each other and they can’t get out and oh god it’s just cheerios, cheerios EVERYWHERE; bela’s somewhere in there, clawing her way up out from underneath the other demon-os, because god fucking dammit she WILL work her way out of this goddamn HELL, she did not deserve this, she did not deserve this at ALL; why is she the one who gets a ticket to hell—where is her spineless shit of a father—(except she doesn’t want to know; she doesn’t want to face him—so she keeps clawing her way up, eyes flashing black with all the effort, but she won’t give up, will NEVER give up)—

the pancakes are the garrison; anna is the little square of butter on top, except she’s looking a little confused because she’s still human at this point; why does she dream of an angry father? uriel’s the one underneath her and her grace is melting into it and he’s holding onto it, ready for her, ready to be in command—

the cup of maple syrup is dick roman; leviathan beats angel after all; the black goo of maple syrup leads to pancakes’ delicious demise

milkstiel’s being a martyr as usual; he will be poured into the cheerios of hell if that’s what it takes to save the winchesters

salt!sam and dean!egg are off in the corner, and oh god this heaven/hell/purgatory war is too much for them and—no but see it’s tragic because sam is the salt, and salt is what’s used to fight off demons, but ultimately sam is the one with the demon blood in him—and dean looks so solid, so ready to roll into whatever the fuck fight he’s up against—but his shell’s thin, hides all the soft vulnerabilities inside him, and he’s just struggling not to break and


what have I done

I’m the one who gripped you tight and plunged you to nutrition

rubato:#my magnum opus maybe

 callowyn:#um yes#definitely#THE SPOONS ARE NOVAKS#jimmy and claire#the spoons#the right shape to hold milkstiel#and the demon-os too if they must#but fork!amelia is too pointy#too fierce#a demon-o catches on one of her tines but she turns upside down and lets that motherfucker fall back into the pit#I HAVE A SICKNESS AND ITS NAME IS THINGSTIEL#but at least I don’t suffer alone#shaking people munching things#the breakfast business#foodstiel

I’m the one who gripped you tight and plunged you to nutrition.

a-walking-blasphemy:#okay so that makes the bowl hell#and the plate heaven#and the placemat earth#and the syrup thing purgatory#can’t stop imagining milk+syrup and it’s grossing me out#ugh but the syrup consumes Cas#they’re still in there somewhere but how can you pull it apart?#THE TABLE IS GOD#THE FLOOR IS DEATH

thecoatinmytrunk: #okay so if the floor is death and the table is god #chuck sits at the table and reaches for the egg and the salt #but he’s chuck and he’s drunk so he knocks the glass of milk off the table onto the floor #glass shattered – milkstiel spilled all over the floor#but he gets another glass and refills it with milk #and knocks it over again #and again #CAN I JOIN THIS CRAZY TRAIN IS THIS A THING I CAN THINGSTIEL?





chuck how did you manage to drop that entire plate of angels onto the floor

dammit chuck

Chuck please tell me you did not just loose half of the salt into the cheerios. Sam needed that. 

a-walking-blasphemy: #chuck is just so bad at breakfast #chuck just stop #just#the syrup ends up soaked in all over the placemat #with this milk splatter #and the only thing left on the table is silverware and salty cheerios #and this one lonely egg #this is just all the seasons mixed together but I don’t hink it’s important







rubato: #no but see this is really deep too #because now it’s all just vessel angst #spoon!claire and spoon!amelia #spoon!jimmy’s on the floor #gone #spoon!claire and spoon!amelia are covered in salt #(they check the salt lines around the house every day) #(they can’t afford not to) #there’s salty cheerios surrounding them #it’s okay because they’re salty so they can’t do anything but #that makes it worse #now the demon-os are just memories in amelia and claire’s minds #but memories are sometimes more painful than the present #there isn’t a day that goes by when amelia doesn’t remember the feeling of cheerios in her tines #possessing her #not a day that goes by when claire doesn’t remember the way milkstiel filled her and gave her purpose #RELATE ALL THINGS TO NOVAK ANGST #meanwhile dean’s covered in syrup and milk just weeping quietly as he rolls into the now-empty syrup cup #‘cas’ he whispers #but there is no answer #oh no I suddenly made myself sad #🙁

callowyn: #SCREECH #I CANNOT WITH THIS #BREAKFASTVERSE #meanwhile #the hash browns and sausage that chuck dropped earlier are still duking it out under the table #they’ve been clashing flavors for years #chuck does not know why he keeps buying this brand #neither the hash browns nor the sausage pay any mind to the tiny clementine that’s trapped with them #but the clementine would much rather have that than the way it was when the salt was down here too #oh no adam feels 🙁 #THINGSTIEL#WHAT HAVE YOU DONE

thegeminisage: i keep wanting to reblog this in its entirety to have it on m blog but it keeps growing and skdfjghsdlkfjg

rubato: #oh god #poor adam #that little abandoned clementine #no but who’s the hash brown and who’s the sausage #is michael the sausage because he’s a dick? #or is lucifer the dick? #hmm#interesting question #because it depends on how you interpret the narrative #and who you believe is right: the one who follows orders; or the one who cleaves his own path #but let’s go back to adam because ADAM #the little baby clementine #no but see but he’s the clementine #the only fruit #filled with vitamin c #for CIVILIAN #he didn’t deserve to be dragged into all of this #all he wanted was to be with momma grapefruit and just LIVE HIS DAMN LIFE #but he was dragged into this war #innocent bystander #and now he has to pay the price #my poor baby clementine #you deserved better

crowleyshouseplant: #omfg i cannot #in the morning becky cleans up chuck’s mess #no more googly eyes on his favorite pancakes #she paints mouths on them with syrup and honey #she figures they might have a thing or two to say to their god #thingstiel is the best fandom

rubato: #oh no #just when I thought the feels ended #now there are agency feels #and becky feels #and fuck the canon feels #is it too early to start subverting breakfastverse #what if we had gluten-free pancakes instead of these #what if milkstiel were soymilkstiel #what if sugarfree leviathans #what if vegan butter!anna #subvert the canon #there is no reason why table salt can’t be kosher salt or sea salt #there is no reason why dean can’t be a cage-free egg #OH GOD #BUT DEAN *IS* A CAGE-FREE EGG #BECAUSE HE WAS NEVER IN THE CAGE IN THE FIRST PLACE #oh no I’m making myself have feels over subverted breakfast foods #what is happening #add mouths to all the breakfast foods #make them all vegan and gluten-free #KEVIN TRAN’S BREAKFAST TBH (let’s pretend dean!egg isn’t there) #AHHHHHHHHH #THIS IS KEVIN LOOKING DOWN AT THIS NEW WORLD THAT HE’S NOW INVOLVED IN #I CAN’T #I CAN’T!!!

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