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hottestthingalive · 4 years

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If the fake fic titles are still open: id like to suggest “its too quiet” as a fic title (if they arent open feel free to delete this)

ooooohhhhh this is gonna be fun

-It’s quiet when Logan wakes up.

-Far too quiet, he thinks, because he lives in a castle, and there’s always some noise by the time he wakes up, even if it’s just the birds or the wind or the creaking of an old building in the winter.

-He cannot hear any of these things.

-Logan is the advisor to royalty. He did not get this job by having bad instincts, and so he sits up and gets dressed immediately.

-The castle is empty, he thinks at first, because it’s almost past noon (and why oh why did he sleep in so late?) and no one is there. The throne room, the kitchens, the gardens, the library, even the town outside -- not a single person seems to be there but himself.

-And then he checks the rooms, and he understands.

-They’re asleep. Everyone in the castle (and he can guess the town outside, too, and possibly the whole land) is fast asleep, and no matter what he does, he cannot wake them. He does his best, desperately tries to wake King Thomas, but he fails.

-He fails, and it is so, so quiet.

-And then there is noise.

-“Get away from our father, witch!” yells a familiar voice, though one he has never heard quite so desperate, and the twin princes crash into him, dragging him to the floor, knocking his head against the tiles as they stand over him with swords they must have pilfered from the guards and helmets and shields that are too large for them.

-“Roman? Remus?” he says, because he cannot believe they are awake, and the five-year old crown princes’ eyes widen in recognition.

-“Lolo?” Remus says first, and tears up, and he drops his sword to fall into Logan’s arms, already sobbing. “What’s happening? Why is everyone asleep?” Roman joins the hug quickly, and Logan sits up holding them both, and does not care that his tunic is soaked with their tears because he is so glad to see them.

-“I don’t know,” he admits.

-They leave the castle, eventually. Though the food does not rot and everything still works, they are all getting sad and scared and angry staying in this empty palace, and besides, Logan says they must look for a cure for whatever this is. Once they have waited two weeks, and know the sleepers do not need food or water or cleaning (once they have waited two weeks, and have been alone with just each other for so long, the quiet creeping into their bones and hearts and souls) they leave the castle.

-Everywhere has been affected, Logan starts to think. Nothing rots, nothing decays, but every living thing they see in their travels is fast asleep. They take food with them, and when they run out they borrow it from the more affluent homes they pass. Roman and Remus change from their princely attire to clothes better for traveling, and though Logan does his best to seem respectable at all times, he does as well, too. The twins grow out their hair, and he teaches them to braid it, keeping his own tied up as best he can.

-It is months before they meet Virgil and Patton and Janus, before Logan wanders into a pub when the princes are fast asleep to try and get a drink, Virgil popping up from behind the bar with wide eyes, a confused expression, and a sleeping baby in his arms. Patton is a toddler, who calls Virgil “Ver!” and Janus is so young, barely old enough to eat foods other than milk. Logan does not question the scales that cross one side of Janus’ face, nor Patton’s green-tinged skin and webbed fingers, or Virgil’s sharp teeth and purple and green eyes, but his princes do, incessantly. Virgil does not seem to mind.

-“Are Janus and Patton our new brothers?” Roman asks one day, whispering it to Logan as he and Patton play “Patton-cake” (A name Logan despises, for the record) and Virgil rocks Janus to sleep, Remus tracing the scales on the baby’s left side with careful curiosity.

-Logan exchanges looks with Virgil (Virgil who has begun to sit closer to him when the children are asleep, who exchanges stories and points out stars and is a shoulder for Logan to cry on, who he thinks is quite pretty and maybe, just maybe, could be something a tad different from a friend to him) and smiles, soft and sad. “They might as well be,” he says, and the young prince just grins, and takes Patton’s chubby hands in his own, and says “You hear that, Pat? We’re brothers, now!”

-Patton giggles, and says “Ro!” and “Re!” and “Lo!” and “Ver!” and “Ja!” and then “Mily!”

-Virgil looks over, still holding Janus, and frowns. “What’s ‘Mily’?” he asks, stepping closer.

-Logan might have guessed that it had been Patton’s family, before, but Virgil had told him one night, in a hushed whisper, that Patton had never met his parents, Virgil’s brother and his partners, that they had died when he was a baby and Virgil had taken him in. Janus was a more recent addition to their little band, a changeling left to die in the forest before Virgil had rescued him.

-“Family,” Remus says, in the way of his that almost seems unnatural, how he and his brother always seem to know what one is thinking, and perhaps they do. (This correlates to Logan’s theory -- that they remain awake because of magic in their blood. Virgil has confessed that he is a witch, a healer, primarily, that his brother had had the gift too and had thus given magical blood to Patton. Then there is Janus’ changeling nature, and Logan’s own magical descent from a human father and faerie mother. No one knows where the twins came from, just that the king and his partner had adopted them, and they could very well have power running through their veins, enough to know a toddler’s thoughts, or when someone is not looking so they can steal cookies from the kitchen, or to tease Logan about his ‘crush’ on Virgil.)

-“Family?” Logan says, and Patton repeats it; “Mily!”

-They find a way to break the curse, eventually, after three years, after they find the Dragon Witch and she warns them of a sorcerer who had plunged the world into an endless sleep. They have been living in a cottage built by Logan and Virgil and Janus’ budding telekinesis for years, now, the princes nine and strong and fast and brave, Patton six and an unusually fast swimmer and so, so kind, Janus nearly four and in awe of his brothers, toddling along after them at any opportunity. Virgil insists that they need to find this sorcerer, break the curse, when the children have been put to bed and he and Logan and the Dragon Witch sit at the kitchen table. The Dragon Witch (DW, as she insists they call her, refusing to give her real name, wary of Logan and Janus and their fey descent) says it is too dangerous, alone, and he reminds her they are three, seven with the children too. Logan sides with DW, though he sees Virgil’s point, and eventually he is swayed.

-Logan has long since fallen in love with Virgil, though he has not told him. He hopes Virgil knows that the long hours sitting on the bench under the willow tree outside their cottage and the mornings of cooking together and sleepy conversations and the nights spent in the same bed after the nightmares from being alone became too much for them both mean more to him than anything else in the world, save for the children they raise together. Sometimes, he thinks his feelings might be returned, and those are the days he feels like he might be glowing from the inside out.

-And when the sorcerer aims a spell at Virgil, says “If you are so lonely without the human-kind, you may sleep with them!” Logan jumps in the way, finds himself staggering and falling backwards into Virgil’s arms, sees horrified glowing purple and green eyes just before his eyes close. “I love you,” he whispers, and then he drifts away.

-And then he wakes up, and Virgil is clutching his face in his hands, eyes wide with shock, tears wet against his cheeks, and he says “Logan Logan Logan!” like it is a prayer and pulls him into a hug.

-“What happened?” he asks, and Virgil turns a furious shade of red, and DW laughs and laughs. “True love’s kiss!” Patton exclaims, eyes wide and shining with glee, and Logan finds himself blushing too.

-As in every fairy tale, true love’s kiss does indeed break the spell. The king is shocked, to see his sons so grown, but he is also more than happy to accept his new ones. “I do not want to make it seem like you are not their parents, as well,” Thomas tells Logan and Virgil, “for you are, and it would be selfish of me to think otherwise. Thank you, for saving me, and for caring for my sons.” He and Logan are rather good friends, after that, and when Logan is made a lord (and a rather powerful one, at that) it is only surprising to him.

-Virgil lives in the palace with them, and Logan finds himself flirting and holding hands and blushing far too often. They kiss again a few months later. They are married when Roman and Remus are eleven, Patton nine, and Janus five, and the king himself performs the ceremony. Patton scatters flower petals when they walk up the aisle hand in hand, Roman and Remus ties the long black and purple and blue ribbons around their wrists, binding them together, and Janus presents them with the knives they had given each other, as tradition dictates, to put in marriage sheaths at their sides. The Dragon Witch (who has long since told them her name, by now) makes the sky explode in color for them, and watches the children while Virgil and Logan dance together.

-Logan finds his family in the quiet, and yet he loves them for the noise they bring into his life. And in the end, he would not have had it any other way, even for all the hardship, for he cannot imagine a world without them.

I really do have a brand, and it is Analogical™. But I loved loved loved writing this piece, and I might expand on it in the future for funsies because sometimes family is a half-fey advisor to the king, a witch/healer, two slightly magical princes, a small frog child and the witch’s nephew, a tiny baby changeling, the king and his partner, and a dragon witch pretending to be mean who’s really just a big softie.

Send me a fake fic title and I’ll tell you what I’d write for it!

#asks #analogical #romantic analogical #familial drlamp #creativitwins #ts virgil #ts logan #ts patton #ts janus #ts roman #ts remus #ts thomas #ts dragon witch #cinder writes #anon #cinder's prompts #cinder's prompt fills #virgil sanders #logan sanders

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thetruthlsoutthere · 5 years

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DW Dreams Post {2}

Read on (:

Dreams {1} 12/7/2016 to 12/8/2016|| Dreams {2} 12/8/2016 to 12/9/2016 // The day before yesterday, its like i was in this grass path with wood tress on either side like a freaking royal garden or some shit and the 10th and the 11th doctor were there and for some reason i was backing up from the 10th like i was afraid of him o something lmao and i hid behind his 6th Doctor regeneration self as he tried to sonic me and he looked hurt or something that i hid behind one of his other selves from him and his 11th self was watching shocked. I think someone else was there. Then its like me and River are in the Tardis, sitting down at one of the steps and she is telling me, "I am intimidated by you sometimes" and i am saying something like "Oh River Song... aka.. Melody Pond" so maybe i am liking telling her she doesn't need to be and asking why she is. THEN So I had a dream about the Master last night and it was his john simm form with the black hoodie bottoms and jeans with the red shirt underneath but anyway, its like he was in the backyard of my house by where our bonfire is and anyway, he was moving the stuff around it and its like then I am walking with Fred and George Weasley from Harry Potter and its like the Master was maybe walking with someone, the Doctor maybe? out of the woods up from the bonfire and he kept looking at me from the woods to the bonfire before and at the bonfire part before, i was walking out the back door and i was looking for someone, curving my body as i put a hand to my mouth to laugh and its like he was watching me stealthily move around the back part of my house to the side and BRUH, before or after that, there was this part where its like i was wearing this Christmas green really pretty dress and a red one as well and he told me HE WANTED TO TAKE ME RIGHT UP Against the wall or something AND THEN ITS LIKE I AM CRYING AT THE END OF THE DREAM AFTER HE CONTACTS ME THROUGH THIS ANCIENT BOOK AND LIKE WHY AM I CRYING?? LMAO ________________________________________________________________

Dream from 10/31/2016 to 11/1/2016 // Its like I was in this dark basement or something but there was this area of three rooms. I enter the first one and I get this really bad feeling like someone is there and watching me. Then I see this second room. I don't know if I am with anyone but I think I was alone. There were three rooms bc I stated it in the dream to 2 other people of what had happened to me and I will explain in that. Now the second room, the feeling gets even worse, I start to shake and try to gain control and everything but whoever is there that I cannot see is trying to take control over me. Its hits full force when I open the third room. I am hearing a scary dark voice, my whole body is shaking and other things. I must have thought it was the Devil because I end up screaming, "No, I am with God. You can go to Hell.". I have trouble trying to close the door because they wont leave me be. I finally manage to close it then I start running away. It is later on when I am in a different room, none of those three, that I explain these events to two other people. I like to think it was Amy and Rory but maybe it wasn't. All I know was that it was a male and a female.

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Dream from 10/31/2016 to 11/1/2016 // Its like Amy and Rory were running through this area of grassy woods and some kind of grey alien creature almost looking like the Absorbaloff but more creepier and deadlier so maybe a different alien creature then its like I am there and so is the Eleventh Doctor, were trying to escape from it. Somehow, I end up farther back from this area in the grassy woods where there is like a plankl to walk on from im on then in front of me and the deadly creature thing sees I am on my own and starts to make its way towards me and the Eleventh Doctor see's this, jumps into the creature's view and ends up walking down that plank thingy whatever in front of me. And in the midst of all this, him getting the creature's attention because maybe that means he didn't want me to get hurt, and I say, "Doctor stop, don't be an idiot.", because he could get hurt too and I obviously didn't want that either. Then it's like the Doctor is close to me, the creature in the background, Amy and Rory are safe maybe still to the side, out the creature's view. Then it's like this woman appears. She looks old like maybe in her 50's. She has long wavy blonde hair, light eyes, warm complexion and she was wearing old clothes rich in dark purplish red and I think she held something in her hands. Is she the one having power over this creature or whatever? Then it's like were in this dark area and there are these group of human men who are staring at us and I am sitting down and one of the men is talking about how they tried to take the creature down and they have not had luck and either {think they know more or don't at all.} I end up being my sassy cute self or whatever and say something like, "We actually do know more..... {something else said} but good effort buddy.", then I get up so. After that, there is an area of restroom stalls but ,like without the toilers, lmao so just a set of doors and the Doctor, me and other people we must know, so maybe not Amy and Rory but other timelords/time ladies and its like we are all regenerating or something. I look either still like myself or Nina Dobrev because I had that feeling. The Eleventh Doctor still looks like himself, I think. Me and him get close almost like were going to kiss but then we run off together. Then it is like there is a scene where I am talking to the Rani or someone. Why do I feel like its the Rani , lmao bc in a previous dream of me and her; it was like we are friends so is this part of this dream before or after that one like dreams in order or not. ANYWAY, whoever the woman is, if it is the Rani, she is talking to me annoyed or something about how the Doctor is crazy about me {She stated that but maybe different words.} and how she has tried to get him to stop or whatever but she failed at it. Then it's like I am walking away from her where the Doctor is, presumably with the others. For some reason, I have a vision that the Master {John Simm form} is stabbing me. It doesn't actually happen , lmao because I had a weird dream previous of the Master {Delgado form} where it was mentioned that he held affection. Check That dream journal entry. Now, I don't know where we were or what was happening in the dream at this part but maybe that dream part ends. I think I may have woken up after this.

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Dream: Night of 9/24/2016 to Morning of 9/25/2016 // I had a dream last night to this morning that involved me The Protector along with The Master and The Rani and there were definitely other people. It seemed like to me that The Rani and I myself the Protector were friendish with each other, idk. For some reason in the dream, I imagined myself kissing the Master but it didn't actually happen then Me and The Rani are to the side and she is asking me "Why did you take your ring off?" and I am supposing she means the one to me and the Doctor. I didn't reply back to her but right now I am like My answer is I don't know?.. ask dream me? What ring?? {The elena gilbert daylight ring which showed up in my Doctor Who dreams as my ring, that one?} There was also an action fighting sequence with others. The Rani that showed up in my dream was Classic Who Rani . The Master was John Simm Master I think.. I as The Protector, my gallifrey title name, kept being mentioned.

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Dream I had: Night of 8/21/2016 to Morning of 8/22/2016 // I was in this house and it had at least 3 stories long in height and I was looking out in the oceanic background. In the backyard, there was woods and in the narrow hill in front of it with grass leading up to the woods, I could see the Tardis although it didn't, it had parts missing to it like the door handles and the push writing sign on it was in a different place. Currently aside from that, the waves from the ocean were crashing really violent and big so I was taking a risk as I went outside to get closer to the Tardis but when I do, it goes from really tall to really small like just a little bit taller than me and I am touching it much smaller than it should be. I think there was a woman there saying something about it or I was just by myself thinking.

Short I know but there you go, that was another dream I had.

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Dream I had #3: Night of 8/21/2016 to Morning of 8/22/2016 // I was in this pure white area of rooms and in the main one, I was there with the Third regeneration of the Doctor, a man and a woman who may have been his companions at the time. I think it was Sara Jane? and a man who I got a Jack Harkness vibe , wearing a dark blue coat , those light denim jeans and boots; but it could have been someone else. The Master was also there in the regeneration look he had back then and I was talking with the third doctor. We were in danger trying to escape from the Master and we went through this portal and the Master found out what we were trying to do and he was trying to make the portal close. The Doctor and Sara managed to get through and as it was stopping to let the man companion through, I pushed him in so he could go through, letting myself get stuck as long as they were safe. So I was stuck with the Master and me and him were talking. He was threatening to kill me and I was pushing and challenging him to do it. He then opened this one room and there was a white cot table thing and Rose was there and she looked so emotionally dead. The Master was taunting me about her being there and I was crying because clearly I love and care about Rose. It got to a point where I am across the room outside of the one Rose is in and The Master was in there with her, I feel like he may have closed the door but then I am closed my eyes and ears as hard as I can when I hear the Master hurt and beat Rose so bad to the point I am hearing her cries and begs and screams for him to please stop and her cries of pain and I am doing the same, constantly saying please stop and all that and I am screaming because I am trying not to think of this and wanting it to stop. The next part of this dream , it's like it has stopped and I am seeing Rose wrapped up in a grey jacket on the other side of the room, sitting over a blanket, emotionally dead more than before and I look to see a tuib of water bloody red signaling that the Master hurt her so bad that she bled. I am crying and affected by this and Rose just gives me a dead look. I remember when I was screaming for it to stop, I was hoping Rose and the Master would hear me so either the Master stopped because he felt like it or he stopped becauseh e heard me, I don't know. But as I am doing this or before, I am aside from where I was outside the room and to my left, the Master and someone I would think to be Sara Jane or some other dark haired woman saying to him that he would never really hurt me because if some other person had done it, that person would be ripped to pieces or hurt or something along those lines. Does this mean that.... The Master cares about me or?.. likes/loves? I don't know, this shocked me. Anyway, at some point after seeing Rose again like that, I come to the side of this other room where that same woman and the Master are by each other and they look over at me as I walk to them. I eye glance across them without really looking at them and what seems to be one of those step ladders {from my work in real life} is by them and I hold my hand around one of the handles and with tears in my eyes, I am saying, "Just let her go, please, that is all I ask. Please let her remember none of this that she suffered through." Now while all of this was going on, I figured the Doctor and Sara Jane and the other man would have noticed I didn't make it through the portal and they reacted however they did but this is all I remember from this dream. I was able to tell all of it because as soon as I woke up, I immediately wanted to write it down so I did not forget. For anything else apart of this dream, I don't remember so I think this dream was all of it. At some point in this dream, I feel like I mentioned me being the Protector to the Third Doctor with Sara and the Master was there I think at this point and then I had the Doctor's hand in mine and we were smiling at each other.

{The Protector for my Gallfreyan title like The Doctor's and The Master's.}

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Dream: Night of 8/16/2016 to morning of 8/17/2016 It was like I was in this school and it came to a point where I was stealing food out of this fridge of some sort and I look to my right and Christina Inks was there, who I had not thought of out my dreams in a long time but here she is, and she is laughing in amusement ,watching me as if I shouldn't be doing this and yet I am and she isn't stopping me. Then it's like were talking for a bit about how she has to go somewhere so were parting ways and now it is like I am outside the school and I see Christina or what looks to be here, in a car on the road, driving away with others cars and I feel it weird to me because I thought I saw her on something different before, something different that wasn't a car but at this point, I am outside the school and away from it and it's like I am with Amy and Rory and were talking about something I don't remember and were walking. What happens next is one of them is either on the phone or then someone else is by us, I think another female and then I ask them, "You know of the Doctor? Well about.. the Protector." Now outside this dream, I had already had previous dreams, a lot, of Doctor Who and Torchwood ones so these people already know me, but once I mention the Protector, it's like Amy and Rory know of it and by the way I ask and the look in my eyes, it's me telling them that it's me and they look at me strangely as they realize and then I am cupping Amy's face and resting my forehead against her's with my hand in her over her hair and face and I am saying, "Oh Amelia {or Amy} Pond, Couldn't you see that this whole time, I was right in front of you." I said something like that and when I pulled back from her, it's like me, her and Rory are walking into the Tardis after smiling and laughing together and having me back this way after remembering this part about me {This whole time they knew me, friends of the companions and love of the Doctor, did they all have their mind wiped except me, of what I was and what I am is a time lady from Gallifrey? OH SHIT!} {P.S. I think out of all the companions, based on my dreams, I am closest with Amy/Amelia Pond. I seem to get along great with other companions, but Amelia, it's like I am closest.} But anyway, Me and Amy and Rory are going back into the Tardis and the Doctor {In his 11th regeneration} is there, he is by the Tardis doors from the inside and he is looking at all of us and by how Amy and or Rory tell him about this, the Doctor basically does the same thing with the strange look but then he smiles as he remembers and then that beautiful smile of his , oh my lord, is on his face and then the Tardis doors close and it's like around the Tardis console, I can see the controls up close to know what each one is and does Not like up close with my face pressed right up against it but more like just looking at it and itself is up close. And as Amy and Rory either stand there, me and the Doctor are using the controls to get the Tardis going and it does, you know the Tardis noise and it will disappear how it does, but anyway, on the last control, one of my hands and the Doctor's hands touch it at the same time, we look at each other with a loving smile then we both use it at the same time and then.... with that part, the dream ends.

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this takes place after the previous dreams listed:

Dreams at some point this year or last year:: // basically in one dream part, there were these whole montage of life scenes that happened and im my Protector self and my husband theta aka the doctor was there and its like for the rest of the dream, it showed us growing old together. And I feel like at some point in from the dreams I had last night to this morning and wanting to jot this down EVEN THOUGH I SHOULD HAVE EARLIER , I feel like at one point, there was a dream involving my alliana self and Klaus and a Lucifer like dream from the show but of me and Lucifer. ok byeee.

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Dreams from 8/3/17 to 8/4/17 // I just want to really write these dreams down so I don't forget them, lol. Ok so anyway, it's like I am on this street or whatever and I am walking into this store, walking around it, checking stuff out and there is other people around and it's like I see barack Obama there and then me and him get to talking and he hugs me and I mention to him about how I tried to talk to him once and he ignored me. I remember him replying about it but I don't remember what he said bc im a dumbass. But I know it was him speaking of a reason why he didn't or him thinking he hadn't. Then it's like I am in this dark room and there is two people standing not far in front of me and two other people to the other side. For some reason, for the people not far in front, I feel like one was male and the other was female and the ones to the side were the Master in his John Simm form and the other people, I don't know who the person was but I feel like he was male too. It's like The Master is talking telling the people in front of me to stop talking or something, like he wants them to stop whatever they are doing because I can see his face turned towards them then he turns to me and his face is close to mine and were talking and its like his lips brush up against mine.

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2 dreams in the past few days 7/2/17 and 7/3/17 // the first one which involved the earlier days of the 1st or 2nd , it was like I was running out the back door of my house and it was pouring rain and I kept yelling "Doctor!" and running around. Perhaps, I was sad or in danger and I needed him. Point is, I kept running and yelling Doctor, hoping to find him but then its like in the wooded trees around my house, I see Bill and she tells me to follow her and such and so we do, going through the woods and its like the rain had stopped and I kept asking where Nardole was but she wasn't answering so I stopped asking and then its like were going into this haunted place and there is something we have to solve so maybe there is an alienistic danger and its only me and Bill, The Doctor and Nardole are not in sight and were handling t but then we leave and I am talking to Bill about her and the other companions based on how much time they have spent with the Doctor, can handle things theirself and due to me being the Protector, I can perfectly handle it myself but that we need Theta for this and at this point Bill looking understanding, was looking horrified as well. For some reason , I think Clara was here at this point but remember all I saw was Bill for through out this dream and then its like I am back in my house inside my bathroom but perhaps it is longer or wider inside my dream because the Doctor is there, in his 12th regeneration and me and him are talking and at some point he tells me how it stuns him or something along those lines and I ask him what and he tells me about my beautiful smile of mine. Also at some point earlier in the dreams but not one of the first, its like I am dangerously yet gracefully dancing and the Master, in his John Simm form, is watching by the hallway wall and I get close to him with my hands/arms are on either side of his face and he watches me in shock and I have a serious look on my face. Then the one most recent is like a mix of me interacting with these cute guys and there being arrogant ones and me dealing with them and then its like I am in this familiar city and I feel like I am being watched by the Doctor and then its like me and these people are climbing this huge green beanstalk like tree to the foggy sky but its dangerous and there is supposed to be something strange up above and some where around this point , its like I am in a city and its over flooding with water like that 2012 movie and I am holding this child and this girl is aside me and were trying to swim to safety and at this point, its like I am in this dark house and the walls are a dark blue and I am at this part of the house near the side where the door goes into this closet except the door itself isn't there and its like I am talking to someone and I say the words, "Maybe because I love my husband? My Theta.", and its at this point where myself I see myself as Crystal Reed so perhaps that is the regeneration that I am in and the Doctor is there in his 10th regeneration form and I am crying and he is wiping the tears on my face and the Master is there with his hand on my shoulder. Also in this dream parts during these later listed days, the Master is in his John Simm form too.

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stay tuned for part 3 (:

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idreamofhazel · 6 years

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Supernatural’s End: Embracing the Sadness and Its Impact

Sappy post ahead. Like wow. I didn’t know I had that in me. (1.6k words below the cut)

I know everyone has been saying their own words about Supernatural ending (honestly it’s hard to even type that. Still doesn’t seem real). I’m not usually one for jumping on the bandwagon and I don’t post a lot of “extra” here, but like, I’ve been really emotional. More emotional than I anticipated. I can blame it on my period and the intense amount of stress I’m feeling lately, or I can just admit that I’m a big sap and that this show actually, really means a lot to me. More than I thought it would. And I should stop making judgments about the way I feel and my need/want to write this post.

When I first started watching, I was finishing my first year of college. It was spring/summer of 2013. I had a friend who was obsessed with it, she had been watching since it first aired. I honestly don’t know what made me ask to borrow her dvd collection (she has them all), but I took the plunge.

Maybe it was because I had started watching Doctor Who, and I was finally getting over my aversion to being a “geek” and DW gave me a taste of what it was like to really love something like that as an adult. (Avid HP fan since the books first came out, here 👋🏻) But idk. I just remember thinking, “It looks good. Why not?”

Dean annoyed the heck out of me at first. I’m not going to lie. He smirked too much, he was arrogant, and always trying to hit on chicks? No thanks. (hey, just being honest here) Sam, however, was it for me. I remember exactly where I was when I first admitted that I was a Sam girl. I was in Wal-mart with my dvd friend and her sister, aka my best friend since childhood. We were grabbing snacks because I was staying over, I think, and they asked me who I liked best with that knowing grin. It was that classic Sam vs. Dean argument that has morphed into quite a lot of other things now--but that’s beside the point. The point is that I was hooked, and it was an avalanche from there on out.

Oh, and in case you’re wondering, I have come to like and appreciate Dean. He reminds me of myself as an oldest sibling who had too much responsibility placed on them, and he also frustrates me in many ways because he’s so damn charming and stubborn. But that’s a discussion for another day.

I stormed through the dvds, staying up late despite being spooked until the end-of-episode dvd music became as nostalgic as my favorite backstreet boys songs. There’s just something about staying up late on summer nights to watch your favorite movies or shows. Let me know if you find a word for that feeling. Soon, my brother started watching with me, I had to explain the initial plots to get him caught up because I was on a roll. I wasn’t back-tracking. I needed to get through all eight seasons before the season 9 premiere that fall.

I almost made it. I think I only missed the first few episodes. But I remember that first season finale I watched, that first time I got to experience the edge-of-your-seat cliffhanger with the rest of supernatural family, and my friends, on live tv. Watching Dean open his eyes, only for them to be black, made my jaw drop.

It was so fun to watch this show with other people. I think it was about season 11 when my dvd friend, my bff, and I began watching it regularly together. We’d go over to somebody’s apartment, have some snacks, and discuss the plot points and our predictions. A couple years later, I roped my other best friend, @queenmestyles, into watching it. I’ve got two of my brothers hooked, too. Well, one of them is a slacker on keeping up, but he’s busy🤷🏻‍♀️ The point is, Supernatural became this event, this regular time slot in my weekly life, save summers, in which I was able to socialize and bond over this tv show. I had a group where we were all crazy about this one thing and we actually talked about it. I’d never had that before. Not on this level.

And then you add in everything that’s happened through the online community...

I started this blog back in like 2013, but it was a multi-fandom mess. Which is fine, if that’s your thing. But I tend be anal in spurts, so suddenly I had had enough and I had to organize my blog. By this point I was only posting Supernatural, so it only made sense to eventually purge all traces of any other fandom and bring some focus to my blog. Then 2016 came.

That was a weird time for me. I was about to graduate college. I was busy as heck. And I honestly can’t tell you what compelled me write my first fic. I just know that it swelled up inside of me, and I couldn’t ignore it. Even if the quality was meh.

It opened the flood-gates. And Idreamofhazel was born. Little did I know I would be needing this writing outlet a lot in the near future. See, I’m the kind of person who sets a goal, sets a path to the goal, and then suddenly has on blinders to where I can’t see anything other than the path I’ve set for myself. And if I veer off that path... well, I freak out. And that’s kind of what happened. I was supposed to go to grad school the fall after graduation. Like, I had to. At least that’s what I told myself. But it fell through due to money and some poor research on my part (I had no idea my local university had a master’s program).

So here I was, doing nothing “but working” for a year, being hard on myself and continuing to freak out about my life, but I was also writing. I churned out a lot during that time. Like damn. I was writing like my life depended on it. And I guess, in a way, it did. See, I had written as a child (poems, HP fanfic, twilight fanfic), but I repressed that hobby like you do many childish things, and I hadn’t touched creative writing in like 10 years. But Supernatural.

There was so much to write about, so many things in the show I could pull from to create stories. And so much to read. I read fanfic while cooking, while waiting in offices, while falling asleep. I wrote in the mornings, the afternoons, and late at night. I wrote on my phone even though it’s a pain. And when I got writer’s block, I kicked myself as I still do, but I kept going. And I discovered that this writing thing actually means a heck of a lot to me. Like enough that I want to write original fiction.

I don’t know where that will take me, but wherever I end up with writing, I’ll have Supernatural to thank.

I have Supernatural to thank for a lot of things, but mostly I think it gave me a chance to be myself while discovering part of who that really was.

Supernatural is there when I’m sick, it’s there when I’m sad or lonely. It’s been there when a person I thought would always be in my life left me, and it’s been there with new friends. It brought me closer to a lot of people. It gave me relationships with people across the country and across the oceans. I know it’s just a tv show, and maybe we can say it isn’t, or maybe we can say it is, but even if it’s “just a show,” the people who love it, who make up the fandom, they aren’t “just” anything. They make this show something more.

Right now, the feeling about it ending is weird. Part of me can’t accept it. And then it hits me and I get all emotional, until my brain is like “Wait--no, it can’t be!” And then the cycle starts all over again. So for now, I’m just going to accept that I’m going to cry about this for awhile and realize that the shock and the pain and the very real feeling of loss is showing me how much this thing meant to me, and then I’m going to hold onto that feeling and use it as energy for never letting go of this thing I love, this thing that made me realize parts of myself I had forgotten, this thing that pushed me to create and showed me just how much I need to create. Even though anticipating the end makes me sad, I know the sadness will eventually turn into something positive, like fond memories and gratitude. But it won’t unless I face the sadness.

So I guess that’s part of what I’m doing with this post. Facing my sadness. Using this post as a sort of therapeutic outlet. If you’ve made it to this point, thank you. I don’t know why you’ve chosen to read so much about me. Maybe you just really like me, or maybe you’re looking for that outlet, too. So I’ll just end the post with this: Embrace whatever you’re feeling. Identify it. Examine it. See what it’s trying to tell you about yourself. And do something with it. Maybe that’s writing your own post, maybe that’s creating something for the show, the cast, or the fandom. Maybe it’s just quietly accepting that the loss you feel is ok.

Whatever it is you’re feeling, and whatever it is you need to do, just know that you’re not alone. I, and the rest of the Supernatural family, are staying put, and we will ride the wave of changes to come, together.

#supernatural finale #text post #not mine

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caranfindel · 7 years

Text

Fic: I focus on the pain (the only thing that's real)

Written for the Celebrating Sam event (thanks to @spnlittlebro and @ohsamtumbles for this marvelous event!) The prompt was “field surgery.” This was supposed to be from Sam’s POV, but Dean kept taking over (as he so often does when I try to write Sam), so you get both sides.

Pairings: None (gen)

Warnings: Language, pain

Also available on LJ, DW, or AO3

Side A

Like many of the stupid things Sam does, it happens too quickly for Dean to stop it. Once minute he’s on his ass in the damp slippery grass, fallen like a goddamn amateur, watching the spinthaak advance and hoping he can get off a shot before it rips his head off. The next minute Sam’s charging between him and the spinthaak, close enough (too close too close too goddamn close) to shoot it right between the eyes. Dean sees its tail twitch forward before it goes down and he rolls out of the way, because he knows what’s at the end of a spinthaak’s tail. He hopes to god that Sam got out of the way in time. But a strangled cry of pain puts his heart in his throat.

Sam’s on his knees, pawing at his chest, and in a second Dean’s in front of him. He tries to pull his brother’s trembling hands away to check for blood, because a spinthaak has pretty big fucking claws, too. “Sam. Sam! Did it get you?”

“I’m okay. Kill it.” Sam bats his hands away and waves toward the spinthaak’s corpse. He clutches his chest again and sinks to the ground with a groan.

“It’s dead,” Dean says. “You got it. You got too close, you moron! Where did it get you? Did it sting you?”

Of course it did, of course it did, because nothing but a spinthaak’s sting would put him in this much pain. Sam’s curled up on the ground, writhing, whimpering, and Dean doesn’t want to think about what it takes to make his brother fucking whimper.

(But he already knows. He’s had John Winchester’s voice murmuring in the back of his head all morning. Spinthaak venom. Just a tiny bit in each quill, but it’s one of the most painful things a human being can ever experience. Knew a fella got stung in the finger, said he’d have shot his own arm off if his friend hadn’t been there to stop him. But the pain isn’t what takes you out. The venom is a paralytic. The quill burrows its way to your core if you can’t yank it out fast enough, gets to your heart or your diaphragm and boom, you’re gone. No antivenin, no CPR. Your only hope is to get that quill out before it’s out of reach. And you’ll be in too much pain to get it out yourself. That’s why you never hunt a spinthaak alone.)

He grabs Sam by the shoulders and rolls him onto his back, pushing his jacket and shirts aside, and gently prods his skin, looking for an entry wound. There it is. Deceptively small, a slightly swollen red pinprick right below his collarbone. Jesus fuck, it’s already so close to his heart, and he knows it’s getting closer, the deadly quill burrowing deeper beneath the surface. It’s got to come out, now.

“Fuck.” He runs his hands over his face. “Okay. Okay. I have to cut the stinger out. It’s gonna reach your heart if I don’t. I’ve gotta do it here and now.”

Sam doesn’t answer; he just keeps making wounded animal noises and rocking back and forth. Dean doesn’t even know if he can hear him, but he keeps talking, to reassure himself as much as Sam. “No time to get the kit.” He digs for his pocketknife and lighter. “We’ll do this old school. It’ll be fine, okay? You’re gonna be fine.” He holds the blade in the flame for a minute. It’s not enough, he knows it’s not even close to enough, but he can worry about infection later. Don’t worry if you can’t swim; the fall will probably kill you.

“All right. Here we go.” He straightens Sam again, presses him flat against the ground. “You gotta hold still, man, okay? Sammy? Can you do that? You gotta hold still for me.” Sam nods and then screws his eyes shut and bites off a scream as he’s rocked by another spasm of pain. Shit, he’s going to bite his tongue in half. Dean yanks off his belt. “Sam. Sam! Open your mouth. Bite on this.” He jams the leather between Sam’s teeth, takes a deep breath, and begins probing the wound with his knife. “I’m sorry, man. I know this is hot.” Sam shudders and gasps, clenching fistfuls of grass, panting as Dean pushes the knife further. “That’s it,” Dean murmurs. “Keep breathing. You’re doing great. You got this.”

Sam’s legs start thrashing, pushing against the ground. “Please, Sammy, you’ve got to hold still,” Dean sighs. He throws a leg over Sam and straddles his body, resting on his thighs, his feet hooked over Sam’s lower legs. Sam’s eyes fly open, wide with terror, and he clutches at Dean’s arms. “I’m sorry,” Dean says. “I have to keep you still. Okay?” Sam nods again and Dean takes his brother’s hands and places them on his own knees. “Here. Hold on.” Sam’s fingers dig into denim as Dean goes back to digging for the quill. “It’s okay,” he says. “You’re gonna be okay.” There. There it is. Something solid at the tip of his knife. Sam pushes his head back into the ground and shrieks around the belt, squeezing hard enough to bruise Dean’s kneecaps as he works his knife below the quill to guide it back up toward the surface.

Suddenly Sam reaches for the belt and wrenches it out of his mouth. “No gag,” he pants. “Please.”

Gag? Sam thought he was fucking gagging him? Jesus. Dean keeps prodding at the quill, easing it out. As he leans closer, he can hear Sam whispering something that sounds, maybe, like not back there, not back there and ah, fuck.

“Doing good, Sam,” he says, partially to reassure Sam but mostly to drown out what he’s whispering because Jesus fuck, Dean cannot think about that, cannot think about what memory Sam might be reliving, back there, held down and gagged and in excruciating pain. “Almost there. So close.” Sam covers his face with his hands and lets out a long, drawn-out moan as the end of the poison quill surfaces. “There you are, you fucker,” Dean mutters. He has to resist the urge to grab the quill and yank it out of Sam’s flesh. Don’t squeeze the end, John Winchester’s voice barks. That’s where the venom is. You’ll squirt it right into him.

“Okay, okay.” Dean can reach the dark center of the quill now, and he gingerly grasps it. Watch it, son, it’s going to be slippery from blood. He eases it out and sits up, trembling with relief. “Shit, Sammy.” He holds it up for inspection - an inch long, with a barbed tip and bulb at the end the size of a sesame seed; such a tiny thing to be responsible for so much agony. “Look at that son of a bitch.”

But Sam’s still keening, still breathing in ragged gasps, still clutching at his chest. “Oh, god, it’s still burning, it’s burning, Dean, it’s still in there.”

There’s another one. But it’s okay. Dean can do this. He stops to scream “fuck!” up into the sky, then takes a deep breath. He can do this. “Okay. Okay. One down, one to go. It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.” He uses his shirttail to wipe the blood off Sam’s chest (Sam’s heart hammering against his hand, galloping out of control) and plants his hands on his upper arms (quivering, slick with sweat) to hold him down and keep his hands out of the way. “I’m sorry, Sammy. You gotta try to hold still. I can’t find it. Where does it hurt?”

“Everywhere,” Sam moans. “Oh god, get it out, get it out, please, Dean.” His breath is ragged and shallow; his lip is bloody from where he’s bitten it, and his whole body is shaking. Dean struggles to keep him steady with one hand as his fingers run lightly over Sam’s chest, looking for the second entry wound. After a lifetime he finds it, a tiny swelling hidden inside his tattoo and fuck, that’s so much closer to his heart and Sam’s whispering not back there, not back there because apparently he has to convince himself he’s not back in Lucifer’s fucking cage and Dean’s running out of time and he doesn’t think he has the strength left to keep restraining his delirious, struggling little brother.

“Sam,” he says sternly. “Sam. Listen to me. He likes it when you squirm, Sam. Don’t give it to him. Don’t you do that for him. You stay stiff as a board and let him go fuck himself. You got that?”

Sam stares at him in terror again, then takes one long, shuddering breath, closes his eyes, and stills.

“There we go.” Sam’s still trembling but not kicking, not thrashing, not fighting him. “It’s okay, it’s okay.” Dean inserts the knife and cuts down further, and when he finally reaches the quill he can’t think about the bulb of venom, he can’t think about grasping the center of the shaft; he’s got to get this fucking thing out of his brother right now so he whispers fuck, Sam, I’m sorry and grabs it and and he pulls. Sam cries out, kicks and thrashes, then his eyes roll back in his head and he goes limp.

~~~~~~~~~

Side B

There’s a pinpoint of pain, needle-sharp, tiny but intense, and then another, and then the points of pain expand, spreading fiery, white-hot hurt across his chest. His legs buckle and he crumples to his knees, clutching at his chest, trying to put out the fire but he can’t, it’s inside, it’s under his skin and lapping at his flesh. He wants to call out to Dean but Dean’s busy, Dean’s finishing the spinthaak, so he tries to bite it back but it comes out as a whining scream, and then Dean is at his side, wide-eyed. “Sam. Sam! Did it get you?”

Sam pushes him away, waves toward the spinthaak, or at least where he thinks the spinthaak must be. “I’m okay,” he gasps. (He’s not okay.) “Kill it.”

“It’s dead,” Dean says, with a quick confirming glance over his shoulder. “You got it. You got too close, you moron! Where did it get you? Did it sting you?”

Sam’s on the ground now, he thinks, but he doesn’t feel anything but fire - every nerve in his body is throbbing, tethered to his chest, to the fire charring his ribs. “Oh, god,” he moans, as Dean grabs his shoulders and rolls him onto his back.

Dean pushes Sam’s jacket and overshirt aside and pulls up his t-shirt. He gently prods at his chest and his fingers are cold, so cold against burning skin. “Fuck. Okay. Okay. I have to cut the stinger out. It’s gonna reach your heart if I don’t. I’ve gotta do it here and now.”

(Oh yes god please get it out here and now please.)

“No time to get the kit.” Dean releases Sam to dig for his pocketknife and lighter, and Sam curls back into himself and god, it hurts so much, it’s like flaming spikes are being hammered into his flesh. Dean’s still talking, keeping up a continuous patter of reassuring white noise as he runs the blade through the flame of his lighter. “We’ll do this old school. It’ll be fine, okay? You’re gonna be fine.”

Dean pushes him flat against the ground. “You gotta hold still, man, okay? Sammy? Can you do that? You gotta hold still for me.” It’s too much, it’s too much like being restrained (tied up strapped down chained) but Sam nods because it’s not Lucifer, it’s Dean, and Dean will take care of this, except being held down hurts so much and Sam screams again, trying so hard not to scream, bites his tongue, bites his lip.

“Sam. Sam. Open your mouth. Bite on this.” Something is shoved into his mouth; it tastes like dirt and blood and fire and brimstone and it’s firm but yielding when he bites into it, not slippery, nothing like his own intestines, nothing like his heart or liver or a red-hot iron rod or any number of things that have been shoved into his mouth.

Dean’s hands are like ice on his chest; his flame-purified knife is an icicle compared to the fire consuming Sam from the inside. Cold fingers pry inside him, peeling him apart, groping, searching. Sam squeezes his eyes shut and he can’t open them, can’t can’t can’t because if he does he’s going to see Lucifer rooting around inside of him, pulling him to pieces with long, cold fingers.

His legs start kicking, trying to crawl away from the pain, because Sam’s brain knows (thinks) this is Dean but his body is screaming no, no, get away and then something heavy is holding him down and he can’t move and oh god it hurts and he’s afraid to look but he does and it’s Dean, it looks like Dean but that doesn’t mean anything, doesn’t prove anything.

“I’m sorry,” Dean says. “I have to keep you still. It’s okay.”

It’s Dean and it’s okay except oh fuck, it’s not okay, he’s on fire, he’s burning up on the inside, his blood is molten lava spreading the fire though his body and someone’s cold, cold fingers are poking inside of him and the gag between his teeth tastes like hellfire and ash. He yanks it out of his mouth and says “No gag. Please.” Dean doesn’t argue and that proves it’s Dean, it’s not Lucifer, because if Lucifer wanted him gagged, he’d fucking be gagged, so it has to be Dean, even though Sam’s burning and the fingers inside him are ice and oh fuck everything hurts. But Sam’s not back in Hell, he’s not back there, not back there.

The icicle pierces him further and Sam keeps trying not to scream and trying not to push Dean away because Dean’s saving him, Dean’s cold hands and icy blade are going to put out the fire, and Sam reminds himself that he’s not in Hell, he’s not in Hell. Then the frozen fingers are gone and Dean crows triumphantly but it can’t be, it’s not gone, Sam can still feel the fire spreading through his body. His hands are free now, and he reaches up to his chest and tries to claw the pain out. “Oh, god, it’s still burning, it’s burning, Dean, it’s still in there.”

Dean screams “fuck,” icy palms planted on Sam’s chest. “Okay. Okay. One down, one to go. It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.” He swipes at Sam’s skin with his shirt, wiping away blood, icy fingers prodding, poking, in search of an entry wound, asking where it hurts, but it hurts everywhere, from the tips of his hair to his toenails, his whole body is in agony. He tries to crawl away from the pain again but someone (something) traps him, holds him down, demands his attention.

“Sam. Sam. Listen to me. He likes it when you squirm, Sam. Don’t give it to him. Don’t you do that for him. You stay stiff as a board and let him go fuck himself. You got that?”

He opens his eyes and he can see him now, Dean or something like Dean, towering over him, blocking the sun. If it’s Dean (it has to be Dean oh please God) he needs to do what he says. If it’s Lucifer it doesn’t matter. Sam takes a breath and his fingers dig into the earth at his sides and he locks it all down, no kicking, no fighting, because someone has set him on fire and someone is dissecting him with ice and someone keeps telling him it’s okay, it’s okay and someone wants him motionless and maybe they’re all Dean, he doesn’t know any more but he’s not back there, he’s not back there, if he keeps saying it then it will be true, and then Dean says I’m sorry and there’s a white hot explosion in his chest and he kicks out and screams and he’s sorry and everything goes dark.

…

When he comes back, it’s to a more familiar set of pain. Rough ground and small stones underneath him, the dull ache of muscles that had been clenched in agony, the sting of a bitten lip, the sharper sting of alcohol on a wound, the low throb of a jaw long clenched in pain, and the sudden stab of a needle, of Dean stitching up his wounds.

“Hey.” His voice is dry and ragged, and he’s shaken by a spasm of coughing before he can say anything else.

Dean startles at the word, and quickly sits him up with a hand supporting his back, pushing a bottle of lukewarm water to his lips. “Shhh. Don’t talk. Drink.” Sam’s mouth tastes like blood and dirt, and he spits out a mouthful before draining the rest of the bottle.

“All right,” Dean murmurs, easing him back onto the ground. “Let me finish up here. You okay?”

“Mostly. You?”

“Fan-fucking-tastic.” A stab of the needle again, as if for emphasis.

“You didn’t get hurt?”

“Only my pride. Can’t believe I let that thing knock me on my ass. And I can’t believe you jumped in front of it, you dumb shit.”

“Someone’s gotta save your candy ass.”

“Yeah, well. Don’t let it happen again.” Dean continues stitching in silence, head down in concentration. When he speaks again, he doesn’t look up.

“Look. I’m sorry.”

“For what?” asks Sam, confused.

Dean looks up now, eyes narrowed. “How much of that do you remember?”

(He remembers everything.)

“I remember I was in a lot of pain. I remember you doing whatever you needed to do to save me. I don’t remember you doing anything you need to apologize for.”

“Okay.” Dean nods solemnly at the ground. “Okay.” He stands up and offers Sam a hand. “Come on. Let’s go burn this fucker.”

Sam takes his hand, climbs slow and stiff to his feet, and begins the process of forgetting that his brother knows what appeals to the torturer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If you think you’ve read this before, you’re not wrong. What can I say? Apparently, Sam being in pain and being unable to tell if he’s topside or in Hell is my happy place. (I am so messed up.)

I apologize for taking liberties with the spinthaak, if you happen to be familiar with spinthaak lore.

The title is from “Hurt,” which is awesome whether it’s performed by Nine Inch Nails or Johnny Cash.

#celebrating sam #hurt sam #sam winchester #dean winchester #spnlittlebro #my fic

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