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hyperfixation-or-death · 29 days

Note

I’m heading to bed now, but please talk about parallels. We’re going to be besties bro

>:) yes, absolutely, thank you-

Here is a list of the most recent parallels thoughts I have had yesterday alone:

I want to put Romane Berthauds in a time loop. That's the entire thought. (I mean, I've drafted a post about this, but it. Does not sound normal. So.)

I could make a fic with four chapters, each of which features the small child version of a main character somehow ending up time traveling to interact with the present versions of the other three. It would not explain how that happened whatsoever, except that each chapter takes place in a different timeline. I almost certainly will not actually write this, but it's a fun idea.

Stupid AU where it’s the parallels characters but the plot and setting are. uh. Vaguely based on Greek mythology. (I have a bad habit of combining my interests into weird ideas, and I've been listening to Epic the musical, so now the parallels kids get swords. And angst, I guess.)

On that note, my Percy Jackson-inspired AU (which is separate from the aforementioned AU and also less nonsensical) has recently been haunting me to the point of me turning in a scene from it for a creative writing assignment a few weeks ago. I ended up writing double the amount I was supposed to, but I also got a hundred on the assignment, so. Who's the real winner here.

The direct contrast between Romane and Victor's first interactions with their respective parents after traveling back. "Mom. It's me. […] Mom, look at me. It's me. I'm your daughter. I can tell you recognize me." Romane being so confident that her mom will recognize her. She knows her mom will see her. She knows her mom will see her and know it's her. Whereas, Victor is fully confident that his dad won't recognize him. He's taking his opportunity to take out his frustrations with his father under the cover of anonymity. And he's halfway right, because Arnaud doesn't recognize him until Victor's up in his face, yelling about how Arnaud has always wanted to hit him. (Not even going to get into that; that's a whole separate post.) But when his dad recognizes him, Victor isn't expecting it. Idk where I was going with this.

Several years post-canon fic idea where the main four move in together after high school. I don't have any reasoning other than I think it would be neat. I have half of one scene and half of another scene written for this. (We could add them and pretend I've written an entire scene, but…there wouldn't be much point to doing that.)

I think the "I remember everything" line in the finale was…not true. I think the kids thought they did, for a few minutes. Then they realized there were some gaps in their memories, and some things were less sharp than others. And Romane, Victor, and Bilal all get flashbacks, but Bilal's are definitely the hardest to deal with, since his memories are the most complex due to the timeline stuff.

I think that, while post-canon Bilal does have a genuine interest in physics, he also knows that a huge reason he went into physics in the other timeline was to try and save Sam and Victor. And now that he doesn't need to do that anymore, he's left unsure of whether he should still go in that direction. It's a different timeline; he's supposed to do things differently, right? But then again, he doesn't want to make decisions based just on that, and he does like the idea of studying physics. But there's also the irrational worry that something like the night in the bunker could happen again, which he knows doesn't make a lot of sense, but the thought is still there. So his thoughts kind of spiral for a little while on the topic of career. He eventually decides to stick with the physics route, though, after giving it a lot of thought.

Something about Victor and Sam being only a year apart, while Romane and Camille are farther apart in age? Yeah, I had no further thoughts on that, I just think about sibling dynamics a lot.

I think Sam has a lot of issues as a result of his parents and their whole family dynamic, they just show up a lot more subtly than Victor's parental issues do.

I wish Sofia and Victor interacted more in the show.

I think Victor Deslandes has ADHD. (I say this as if I haven't said it a thousand times already) also I think he's aromantic. I already made posts about both headcanons but I like talking, so I'm mentioning them again!

and while we're restating headcanons: the same way victor's powers kind of serve as a tangible outlet for his emotions, with anger usually being the catalyst - i think romane's powers do the same thing, but the catalyst with her powers is more of a freeze response to panic. i think i have a post where i word this better, somewhere? idk.

also i think it's interesting how a version of alice and arnaud realized the true extent of the emotional damage they had caused, but it's just before the kids travel back. so sam and victor never get the full resolution there, because their parents will never know what the tension in their family actually led to. and i have specific thoughts on how this lack of satisfying closure is kind of a theme with victor's relationship with his parents, but i unfortunately don't have time to expand on that right now. but. the thoughts are somewhere in my drafts, so maybe i'll expand on that concept later.

And then there's the thoughts that are always in the back of my mind, which are: I would die for the parallels kids. I need to rewatch parallels. hey I think maybe I'll cry over Romane and Victor's friendship in particular today.

anyways, those are just a few of yesterday's thoughts off the top of my head. i'm sure i have better thoughts that i can't remember, but i wrote most of this at like three AM, so my thoughts are. scattered.

thanks for the ask!!! :)

#parallels #disney parallels #paralleles #disney paralleles #i know for a fact i had more things to say about parallels recently that i'll probably remember as soon as i hit the post button.#so anyways i am literally always up for talking about parallels! thanks again for the ask! :)

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in-superbloom · 3 years

Text

did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen? (a.i.)

right where you left me: prologue

pairing: ashton irwin x olivia jones (oc)

warnings: uhh a kinda grieving theme i guess? but no deaths. it has a sad tone overall, but nothing major (in this chapter hehe). foul language because i can't help myself. the tiniest mention of alcohol, but as a memory. think i should probably warn you that this contains a very sad ash. also not much dialogues. this is mainly for explanation and introduction, but very important for the story. if you find anything else that might be triggering, please let me know so i can add it here !!

author's note: oof okay. so. this is the prologue of a series very very dear to my heart that i've been working on for what it feels like my whole life but really it's been just a few months. but i'm in love with the story (which rarely happens with my own writing) so i hope you can enjoy it too !! this is also my very first time posting a fic since 2013 so pls keep that in mind <3 no i am not shaking as type this ofc not also: although i have the full story ready in my head, this is the only chapter that's written. i wanted to wait until i had at least a few ready before posting this but i'm too anxious for that lmao just saying this bc it will take a good while until i have any more chapters, so <3 (p.s.: i went over this thing a million times since may so if you find any errors pls look away, i'm not fixing this thing anymore. thanks <3)

another note: anna from the future here to say that i completely forgot about the playlist i made for the story lmao here it is in case you're interested k thanks bye <3

credits: title is from taylor swift's song right where you left me. model in the picture: paola locatelli. banner by me.

i also wanted to take a minute to thank some really nice friends that i've made here over these past few months & that i'm extremely grateful for @wastelandcth @suchalonelysunflower @littledrummerangie i cannot thank you babes enough for inspiring me the way that you do & for letting me yell about this to you && for encouraging me so much 🥺 i'll never be able to explain just how much this means to me, so i'll have to settle for saying thank you at any change that i can get <3 i love you all 💜 also gem my baby, thank you for the inspo with the banner 💚

@bluesdelis look babe i did it 😌 you know how grateful i am for you & for you letting me have a breakdown every week about my writing for the past 8 years so let's not dive into that or else i will write something bigger than this prologue jsjsjdjd love you 🖤

i hope you all have a good reading and a nice day ♡

let me know what are your thoughts about the fic ! ♡

word count: 4.1k

☆☆☆

Cold. That was the first thing that Olivia’s brain processed.

Still with her eyes closed, she buried herself more into the duvet, while her arm blindly reached for the furnace in human form that she calls boyfriend. However, as soon as her arm was only met with cold sheets, her eyes shot open.

Blinking the sleep away, she sat up on the bed, searching for the infamous red clock resting on Ashton’s bedside table that was supposed to look like a vintage alarm clock. Olivia had ordered it online at an auction website a couple of years back, as a gift for his 23rd birthday, since it was something he had mentioned multiple times prior that he was looking for, but still hadn't found. But when it finally came in (two weeks after the due date), it looked nothing like the picture she saw on the website. Feeling beyond frustrated, she wanted to send it back immediately and ask for a refund and maybe leave a not so polite review on the seller's page. But Ashton stopped her right away, laughing like the situation was absolutely hilarious to him, while saying, 'I like it, it’s quirky'. So, the clock stayed and found a home right next to him in their room.

Some days, however, she would wake up at some ungodly hour because of the blaring noise of the only ringtone the clock had. But whatever annoyance she could feel towards the object, it always vanished as soon as she felt Ashton's lips gently touching her face in a good morning kiss before he would get up to start his day, leaving her to catch some more hours of well deserved sleep.

As the furthest from a morning person as a touring musician could possibly be, Olivia had always feared that living under the same roof as Ashton would turn her into an early bird like him, but she's thankful that it never happened (not that he needs to know about that).

When she sees the red clock, she smiles at the sudden but welcome memories of them flooding her foggy brain, but frowns slightly when she realizes it reads 12:13 pm. Ashton rarely lets her sleep past 10 am.

Gathering all her strength and will, she rises up from the bed, smoothly picking up a grey wool sweatshirt from the chair (way too baggy on her slim body, but it smells like him), pulling it over her head and relishing on the soft material warming up her body. Making her way to the door and calmly going down the stairs, she can’t help but stop for a minute to admire the picture frames on their walls, one in particular catches her attention – probably one of the most prized pictures and memories they had. It felt older than it actually is, but it was around 4 years ago, she's sure – a little while after the two of them met. The picture was of their group of friends that still remains the same: Ashton and his best friend, Luke; Olivia, her best friend, Calum and their old hometown friend, turned into Calum’s new friend at college, turned into everyone’s friend, Michael; and her then newly band members, Suki, Eli and Ravi. Together, their group was the life of the party through all their college years, and it showed by the big smiles and drinks in hands they all had in the picture. It was a very special night, the first time Olivia’s little band played for the public – for a small audience sure, but it was a wonderful night nonetheless. What a long road it had been since that night.

Her nostalgic thoughts were interrupted by a shiver that went through her whole body, and it made her realize how oddly cold the whole house was, not only their bedroom. Which, granted, it was November in New York and the weather was just getting colder, but that’s exactly why Ashton always made sure to keep the house warm enough. As much as she loved the chilly season, the warm weather always reminded him of his hometown, and who was she to deny him that?

The smell of fresh made coffee could be sensed even before she reached the kitchen. Arriving there, the curly haired woman still found no signs of her boyfriend, so she went straight after the coffee maker pot sitting on the far left corner of the cream marble counter. Smiling softly at the tons of memories of Ashton's sleepy figure making their favorite beverage, she reached for a coffee mug on the cupboard on top of the counter and poured the remainder of the hot liquid on it (it's her favorite mug, if she must choose – it was a gift from a fan, and it had printed on it a collage of the pictures of her and Ashton that were posted on social media through their first year of relationship).

Moving to the glass doors that lead to the mini garden they cultivate, she didn't have to open them to spot the 6-feet-tall man sitting on a bench outside, looking oddly small in his oversized clothes, coffee mug tightly held between strong hands. Something about his figure made Olivia frown, however: he was staring with an unwavering look at her small but eye-catching pot of yellow daffodils that were almost as much of a pet to them as Stitch at this point. Sensing that there’s something definitely off about his semblance, she made a mental note to talk to him and find out what’s wrong later. So she goes back to the kitchen, knowing that he might need this quiet and private moment for himself.

She lost count of the minutes that went by (couldn't have been more than five) before she hears the garden's door opening and closing, and then his bare feet are dragging his brawny body to her. Except, he goes over to the sink, walking right through her, not showing any sign that he even saw her hunched figure over the counter table in the middle of the room.

Alright, someone's in a mood.

Olivia tries to swallow the annoyance already bubbling inside her – he knows how much she hates to be ignored, no matter how mad he might be – by trying to think of what she can say that won't piss him off. This is always a hard feat to accomplish when Ashton gets in these moods, but there’s a reason for them to work so well together.

“I missed my favorite body heater when I woke up,” she says in her best sweet voice, knowing how quickly his resolve crumbles when he hears that voice.

Still, no reaction.

That settles a worry at the pit of her stomach, because Ashton is never like this. Even when he's not in the mood to talk, he always gives some kind of reaction to her words; it doesn't matter how small, just enough to make her feel acknowledged.

When he's finished washing his mug and the few scattered dishes across the sink – she noticed that he already had lunch, if the lone plate in the drying rack is anything to go by –, he dries his hand in a towel, turns around and throws it on top of the same counter Olivia was leaning up against. Once again, he walks away not even sparing her a look.

Indignant, she leaves the now empty coffee mug on top of the table and follows him as he walks up the stairs, any determination to not aggravate his mood now well gone.

“Hey! In case you didn't notice, I'm right here. Whatever got you in this sour mood, I'm certainly not to blame, so can you stop being a child now and talk to me?!”

Ashton just keeps walking – more like sluggishly dragging his body – until he reaches their bedroom and suddenly stops just merely two feet inside the room, looking around with vacant eyes; like he was expecting to see something that wasn't there.

“Okay, that's really mature of you. Are you planning on ignoring me all day then?” Olivia questions exasperated, staring angrily at the back of his neck, where the condor tattoo lives – her favorite of his, but that sight doesn't bring her any peace today like it usually does.

Her glare only breaks when she hears the familiar sound of dog tags swaying on her right side. Shifting her gaze to the direction of the sound, Olivia notices Stitch, their small, black & white French bulldog – who she thought was outside in the garden – slowly trudging his way from around the bed until he stops at Ashton's feet, looking up at one of his humans with sad eyes. That realization only makes the worry in her stomach grow uncomfortably.

“Hi buddy,” Ashton's voice cracks a bit from the lack of use, but he smiles softly at the sweet dog, and crouches down to pet him.

Olivia can't help but gasp as she notices three things all at once that leave her overwhelmed: first, how she didn't even notice Stitch was in the room when she woke up – which never ever happens, in fact, most days he wakes her up whenever he deems her bedtime as finished and can't ever contain his excitement when she finally gets up; second, how the windows blinds are closed, which, again, rarely occurs under their roof, not if Ashton can help it. And third, how sad and melancholic the whole scene in front of her is – how sad and melancholic Ashton is. Pointless to say by now – that's also a very rare occasion.

A chill creeps up Olivia's spine, putting her body into high alert and also serving as a reminder of how everything looks out of place today. Trying to keep her head from spiraling down way too soon, she wraps her arms around herself and crouches down beside her two favorite boys, trying once more.

“Ash? Can you hear me?” even with her throat closing, she softly asks, purposefully putting her face in Ashton's point of view. Her only answer is the low whispers he's letting out to Stitch, while cradling the tiny dog in his arms, spreading gentle kisses on his head.

“I know, bud, I know. I miss her too,” is the only whisper she could understand and immediately wishes she hadn't. The weak wail that comes from Stitch's throat seems to fit perfectly with how the three of them feel.

Ashton then looks up and for a couple of seconds, and Olivia can swear he’s staring right into her eyes. But when he shows no reaction, she knows he’s just staring ahead and not at her, with that look that says there’s too much going on inside his head. She feels the urge to embrace him and get him to talk about whatever is on his mind, so they can share that weight like they always do, but when Ashton gets up from the ground and settles on the bed with Stitch, Olivia can physically feel the crack in her heart caused by the feeling she’s left with.

While Ashton is pulling the duvet over him and the dog, with clearly no intentions of getting up anytime soon, Olivia stands up on her feet with a new-found determination – she needs to figure out what the hell is going on.

This nightmare had to be just that, right? Nothing but a very vivid dream – she's had those before. Scary sure, but they always go away, and soon enough she's back into Ashton's arms, with Stitch jumping on the bed ready to lick their faces off. She just needs to wake herself up from whatever fucked up dream this is – right?

She's running down the stairs this time, frantically in search of something, of what exactly, she doesn’t know – but she knows she needs an answer. The more she looks for something, the more desperate she gets, not knowing what to look for. Then suddenly, something catches her eyes.

The white and blue calendar that's held up by magnets on the side of the fridge. She knows their calendar is red and yellow. They got it from their favorite flower market. Slowly, as if scared of what it might be there – “It's just a calendar, for fucks sake” – she approaches the damn thing. Upon inspection, she deems it as a normal calendar – she really doesn't know what she was expecting – until.

She knows what's wrong with it now.

It's November. She knows it, because the Asian and last leg of her first world tour is about to begin November 21st, eleven days from today. Right after Mike's birthday, she knows this.

Then why does the calendar say today is January 14th?

☆ ☆ ☆

Ashton woke up with a jolt. He quickly sat up, frightening the little Frenchie that was asleep right next to him on the bed. Trying to make sense of his surroundings, he roughly rubbed his face to get some sleep off of it and soon reached for the dog that was staring at him with sleepy but sad eyes. Ashton is sure Stitch understands far more than a dog is supposed to understand about their current situation.

The room is covered in shadows, almost pitch black, but he can see the sunlight even through the thick dark grey blinds covering up the windows. Ashton knows he won't be able to sleep again at that moment, so he gets up from the bed – much slower than he used to. His heartbeat is still out of control because of the nightmare that woke him up, but he can't bother to pay attention to it when Stitch is softly wailing beside him. Ashton lets out a ghost of a smile when the dog rests his head on his right upper thigh, looking up at him with an expression Ashton knows all too well.

“C'mon you little ravenous creature, let's feed you,” the bulldog excitedly jumps to the ground, already running his way down the stairs, not even waiting for Ashton to get up.

That gets a real smile out of him, but it vanishes as soon as he glances at the alarm clock on his bedside table. It reads 5:13 am, nothing out of the ordinary for him. But that small and inoffensive clock, with its red paint peeling off, holds a lot of memories for him. Memories that two months ago would bring joy to his heart, but now he almost wants to throw the object across the room.

It was a stupid thing, really. He had been wanting a vintage alarm clock and Olivia got one for his birthday. But the product they received was definitely not the one she bought, and if he's being honest, he didn't like it as much as he made out to. But seeing her so excited in the weeks before it arrived, and how disappointed she was when it did, he couldn't help but try his best to make her smile that luminous smile again. It's part of his nature by now.

That's also the reason why he lets her think that he doesn't notice when she wakes up at some ungodly hour (her words, not his) along with him, because of the annoying and only sound the alarm clock is able to produce. He always leaves soft kisses in every inch of bare skin he can find on her sleeping figure, so she goes back to the dream land and doesn't wake up before 10 am. No one wants to deal with that kind of bad humor, not even him.

As much as he likes being a morning person and absolutely enjoys her company in the mornings, he knows she'll take any and every extra hour of sleep she can get before starting the day. And that's why he loves that she's so stubborn that his early bird tendencies never got to her – he knows she feared that this would happen when they moved in together, but he met her like this, fell for her like this. He wouldn't change a single thing about her.

Ashton drags himself out of the bed, wincing slightly at how cold the wooden floors are under his bare feet. He doesn't bother putting some socks on, or a sweater – the cold weather in the house is uncharacteristically comforting to him. Nothing feels warm without her anyway.

While descending the stairs, he mentally curses himself for not being strong enough to look past the picture frames on the wall. One in particular catches his eyes – a picture from the night of Olivia's first concert with her band. The memories of that night are still painfully vivid in his mind: the laughter among their group that eventually infected everyone at the pub, Suki and Luke's first kiss and the silly smile that didn't leave his best friend's face all night, the standing ovation Olivia got after her three-songs set, and her captivating and breathtaking smile that made him realize right then and there, while watching her sway to the music, that he was definitely falling in love with her and there was nothing he could do to stop it – not that he wanted to.

So many memories held up on that wall, in the relatively short time since they met, that he can't help but wonder if that's all they'll get in this lifetime.

Ashton is abruptly taken out of his thoughts by Stitch's barks coming from the bottom of the stairs. He quickly jogs down the few steps left and goes straight after the dog's food in the kitchen's cabinet. After Stitch starts to happily devour his breakfast, Ashton goes to make his coffee, doing enough for two people like he always does, since Calum drops by most days for a chat or to drop Duke before going to work. Although all three of them know he just can't bother to make food for himself in the morning, while Ashton is the group's elected chef. Ashton always says he just needs a boyfriend – Olivia says Calum already has one who makes him breakfast every day.

He grabs an apple from the fridge and makes his way outside to their garden. Even though a lot of their memories took place there, the garden is the only space in the house where he doesn't feel like suffocating all the time. At least here, he can breathe some fresh air and look at the sky when he's feeling overwhelmed – which is basically all he's been doing for about a month now.

Yet, a lot of the garden has Olivia's name written all over.

He remembers vividly the day she came home after spending two weeks in LA doing some pocket shows, with a pack of daffodil seeds and the largest smile. She excitedly told him that a friend gifted it to her when she mentioned the little garden they were planning to build together at their new house. The friend told Olivia that daffodils symbolize rebirth and new beginnings, so as the good lover of symbolism that she is, Olivia loved the idea of having those flowers to symbolize their new beginning.

Ashton, on the other hand, wasn't a fan of the flowers at first – he just didn't see the appeal to them. But nonetheless, he indulged her, letting Olivia plant the seeds near the bench they used to sit during the quiet and unrushed afternoons, so they could admire the sunset, and she could happily look at the daffodils.

Pointless to say – the damn flowers grew on him.

Now, however, looking at them without Olivia and her contagious joy next to him, they were back to be as dull as they were before, if not more so.

Still lost inside his head without any sense of how much time went by since he sat down, Ashton doesn't hear the front door closing, and doesn't notice that he's no longer the only person inside the house until someone sits next to him on the bench. Yet, he doesn't show any sign of acknowledgement to them.

A few minutes go by before either of them speaks up.

“Luke said you didn't go to see her yesterday,” Calum starts softly, not wanting to disturb the calmness of the morning.

Ashton takes a few seconds to respond, “No point in doing that.” The black haired man licks his lips while thinking carefully about his next words.

“You know staying inside this house all day by yourself won't help either,” Calum turns his head to his left and takes a good look at Ashton's uncharacteristically hunched over figure, and immediately thinks that anyone can tell this man is not himself anymore. His second thought is that Olivia would hate seeing him like this.

“And what exactly do you expect me to do? Move on with my life like nothing happened? Like I'm not slowly and painfully losing the love of my life? Just because it’s easy for you doesn't mean it's easy for me.”

Calum closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He knows Ashton doesn't mean it, it's the anger and frustration talking. He knows it. Doesn't make it sting any less.

“I'm not telling you to move on with your life, because that's far from what I'm doing, and I certainly don't expect you to do it. I'm just saying you need to occupy your mind or else–”

“I'll go insane? Think it's a bit too late for that,” Ashton interrupts with a bitter tone that doesn't belong to his usual chirpy voice.

“You know it's not,” Calum sighs and drinks the rest of his coffee, moving his body slightly, so he's facing the blonde man, “I got a job interview for you at that school you talked about so much last summer, the principal said you can go any day this week. I went ahead and sent her your resume as well as explained everything that she needs to know about Olivia, so you don't have to. You just gotta put on some decent clothes and show up.” he sees Ashton's face softening a little and takes it as a victory. A few beats go by and then, “Maybe take a shower too. That's gonna make you feel better.” Calum leans in closer to his friend's personal space and takes a sniff, causing Ashton to deflect from him slightly, but not to push him away – another small win.

“Definitely take a shower, you stink. When was the last time your hair saw shampoo?”

“Fuck off,” is Ashton's only reply to the younger man's inquest. But Calum can see a smile creeping up on the blonde's face, which brings out a smile of his own.

“I'll send you all the details later today,” he checks the hour on the watch on his wrist and gets up, “Just please, Ash, go. I can't lose you too.”

Calum gently lays a hand on Ashton's shoulder and squeezes a little. The man doesn't look up, but gives a curt nod to his friend, who's satisfied enough. Calum stops on the threshold of the garden glass doors to give some kisses to Stitch – who came to make Ashton company as soon as he finished his food –, and then he puts the coffee mug on the dishwater. And soon enough, he's on his way out of the door. But not before snatching a tangerine from the fridge.

Ashton is left by himself once again. As he hears the sound of the front door closing, he thinks that this might be his life from now on. Just him and Stitch, trying their hardest to make it through another miserable day without the love of their lives. While everyone else comes by just to make sure he's still breathing. Breathing, maybe, but alive?

Swallowing the tears, he looks up at the sky. It's a deep, beautiful mix of orange, pink and blue, but he knows that it won't last long and soon the rain will be pouring down. He thinks about how much Olivia loves the rain.

God, he needs to pull himself together. She would hate to see him like this. Maybe he should take Calum's offer after all, he really needs to occupy his mind.

Making a mental note to thank Calum later, and also to apologize for how rude he was to him this morning, Ashton slowly gets up from the bench to put his mug on the sink and makes his way to the living room, with the small dog loyally following his every step. He puts on some cartoon that for once doesn't remind him of her (she always lovingly made fun of him for still watching those) and cuddles with Stitch on the couch. He can take a shower later.

Not half an hour goes by, he falls asleep and has a good dream for a change. He dreams of the days he spent with Olivia in the Philippines last February, right before her first world tour started. Some of the most magical days of their lives – surrounded by delicious food, a whole new culture to learn about and the warmth of the sun. Infinite counted days full of love and passion, where they were the only people in the world.

Even his subconscious knows to hold on to that brief moment of happiness, because he might never live that again.

#anna writes #perhaps she does write after all #alright i'm gonna go hide somewhere now bye #ashton irwin fanfiction #ashton irwin fic #ashton 5sos #ashton irwin x oc #5sos fanfic #5sos fic #ashton irwin imagine #5 seconds of summer #5sos imagine #anna writes: rwylm

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astorytotellyourfriends · 3 years

Note

M and Q, please? 👀

M: already answered!

Q: Do you have any discarded scenes/storylines/projects?

i do have a folder in my google drive labeled "abandoned" but there are only 2 docs in the jatp subfolder, and both of them are previous drafts of fics i've posted! (the 1d folder is a whole other story...)

i'm very much the type of writer who edits as i go so i don't normally cut out scenes unless they just aren't working. even then, i'll usually copy/paste them into that story's plot doc and save them just in case i end up needing it later. the only one that currently comes to mind is a section i cut out of chapter five of a mouth that i would kill to kiss because it wasn't flowing the way i wanted it to. @where-you-go will probably yell at me if i dangle this without posting it, so there's about a thousand words under the cut lol

Luke hasn't written a thing in over a year. Not one note, lyric, or anything even resembling a song since before the band went on hiatus. It was strange at first, because he's always been the one to constantly scribble down ideas for songs all day, every day. The pages of his song notebooks were covered in all sorts of notes in his chicken scratch handwriting. He's got dozens of notes on his phone that have half-finished lyrics, or voice notes that are comprised of him humming half a melody that came to him in the middle of the night.

Writing felt like a part of him, ingrained in his soul. Music is what he loves and he made it his whole life. But when he cut Bobby out of his life, he lost that side of himself. He didn't want to write anymore. He'd spent years writing songs about Bobby, even if he never admitted it aloud.

It's been almost five months since Bobby showed up on his doorstep and while things are better between them, Luke still doesn't know how to feel about Bobby most days. They text a little more often now than they did at the start of all of this, and they've seen each other a handful of times since the twins' birthday party.

But never alone. There's always at least one other person around, and Luke prefers it that way. Ever since Bobby told Luke he was in therapy, Luke's felt conflicted. On the one hand, he's glad that Bobby is finally taking steps to better himself. But on the other, he can't help but worry if it's all just some ploy to get him back.

Luke still doesn't know what he wants from Bobby, or if he even wants anything at all. Five months isn't enough time to undo twenty years of damage, no matter how often Bobby's seeing his therapist. But even Luke can't deny that the feelings he fought so hard to destroy are slowly creeping back into him.

He's missed Bobby. He'd spent the last year so angry at Bobby that he'd forgotten what it's like to just be around him. It almost feels like the old days, back before anything happened between them. Luke tries not to let himself get caught up in nostalgia, but sometimes he just can't help it. Even with all the shit they've been through, he still considers Bobby one of his best friends.

And slowly, Luke starts to write again. It's nothing like what he used to be capable of, and that's okay. He doesn't need to spend all day and all night writing songs anymore. The band's still on break and everything is fine. Luke doesn't even know if anything he's written lately would even make it onto a new Sunset Curve record, if that's something they'd even want to do again.

Things are different now. Everything is different. Luke's just trying to adjust to the new normal in the only way he can: one step at a time.

So he lets himself write when he wants to write, and doesn't force himself. He doesn't make himself feel guilty on days when he's not inspired. There's no pressure on him to write a full song. He could write a dozen half-formed songs and it would be totally fine, because at least he wrote them.

Luke tries not to think about Bobby when he's writing. He spent so many years writing song after song about Bobby that it feels weird not to think about him, but Luke keeps reminding himself that he's trying something new. His therapist was right: he still needs to figure out who he is without his attachment to Bobby. It's sort of funny how he went from not thinking about Bobby at all over the course of a year to thinking about him almost as often as he used to.

At least he doesn't feel that same mania he once did. The sort of magnetic pull to Bobby where if he wasn't the center of Bobby's attention at all times, it felt like he might wither away and die. It wasn't healthy then, and at least now Luke knows better. He had to learn to be okay with himself first, to be comfortable enough in his own skin without needing validation from anyone else.

In a strange way, Luke felt that cutting Bobby off was one of the best things that ever happened to him. Up until that point, he'd still been fooling himself into thinking that they could be together. Before that, he'd thought that all he had to do was get sober, and then Bobby would want him again. When that didn't work, Luke just concentrated on trying to remind Bobby of the good times they'd had together, even if Bobby wasn't willing to reminisce.

Maybe what Luke needed all along was just to accept that he and Bobby weren't as meant to be as he thought they were.

The distance between us, it sharpens me like a knife

Luke sighs softly as he reads back the few lines he's written, his eyes going further up the page to reread one in particular: I took too many hits off this memory, I need to come down.

He sighs sharply and tucks his pen into the notebook, shutting the cover before he sets it aside. Thoughts of Bobby had wormed their way into his mind, even when he was trying so hard not to think about him.

Maybe, Luke thinks, shutting him out is the wrong thing to do. He spent a year not speaking to Bobby and he couldn't manage to write anything in that time. Now that he's writing again, maybe it's because he's let Bobby back into his life. As much as he wants to tell himself that he's fine without Bobby, that he's better off without him, maybe it's not that simple.

But Luke still can't come to terms with giving Bobby another shot. Or rather, a real shot. They've never had anything close to a real relationship because everything they did was always kept a secret. It was hard enough going through the ups and downs all on his own, Luke can't even imagine what would happen if he had his heart broken again, only this time in the public eye.

#answered #Anonymous #thank youuuu

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palimpsessed · 3 years

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So @captain-aralias did one of these and invited other writers to do the same. And I wasn't really going to because it feels a bit late now and also I've done quite a few other year in review posts for 2020. But then I got to thinking that it would be really nice to have one of these for each year to look back on and compare, which convinced me. So, here we go!

If you’re a writer, I’d also encourage you to steal this. Tag me on your post so I can see your thoughts! 🥰

List of Complete Fics for 2020 1. At the Top of a Tower, With You- General, 900 words 2. Use Your Words- Teen, 16k 3. A Man of Letters, or Five Times Baz Retreats and the One Time He Doesn’t- Teen, 54k 4. To the Manor Borne- Teen, 43k

Total: 4 fics, 113k words

Every one of these fics was written for an event, which, realistically, is the only reason they got finished. I have so many ideas I'm working on all at once, and I came into fandom with a focus on making art, so to actually find the motivation to sit down and write/finish/post a fic was entirely deadline based. And it's a technique I'm sure I will also employ in 2021.

Best/Worst Title?

Well, I've mentioned a few times before that I usually have a title before I have much in the way of a fic concept. I don't really dislike any of the my titles, because they all did exactly what I needed them to do, which was help me focus on what I wanted to accomplish in the fic. Comparatively speaking, though, I can answer this.

Best: Use Your Words - succinct, idiomatic, a book quote/motif that also has the potential to be a spell, does what it says on the tin, is probably what all of us are constantly yelling at Baz and Simon to do throughout the books and the fic itself

(Honorable mention to A Man of Letters because that title forms a perfect heart shape when viewed on mobile on AO3. ❤️)

Worst: At the Top of a Tower, With You - this is also a quote and it fits the fic perfectly, but it is a bit of a mouthful and it has a comma in the middle of it, which, while I love commas, feels a bit off-putting in terms of a title - also, it's always kind of bothered me that it's a Baz WS quote used for a CO-era Lucy POV

Best/worst summary?

Again, I don't really dislike any of my summaries.

Best:

To the Manor Borne: The gang decides to spend Christmas together at Pitch Manor. Romance, hijinks, and holiday cheer ensue.

Anything that lets me use the word hijinks is always good! - it's short and sweet - it does a fair job of setting up the premise for the fic and giving highlights, without giving anything away

Worst: A Man of Letters

I'm not going to include this one because it's so long, I had to cut down the version I posted on tumblr to fit in the AO3 field, which is really why I rank it below my others - it effectively sets up the world of Simon and Baz in Regency England prior to where the story starts, but it is prohibitively long - and it's set up, not summary, so it also loses points for not doing what it purports to do - I could have said exactly what this fic was in one sentence: "Simon and Baz meet at several Regency-appropriate venues over the course of a London season and reflect on their acquaintance in letters", but instead I did the full book jacket version because it was more interesting to me.

Best/Worst First Line?

Oh, this is interesting. I can honestly say that I have no idea where this will go. Going to pull up my docs and find out! Okay, since I only have four fics to consider, and I'm feeling split, I'm going to do two for each. I feel good about my words, but I will say that half of my first lines actually provide information, and the other half are incomplete thoughts. Those were stylistic decisions I made, but when taken alone, it does somewhat limit the effectivness of a sentence when it can't stand without the rest of the paragraph. Perhaps that decision will lure readers in for more?

Best:

In the end, we wind up at Pitch Manor. (To the Manor Borne)

I know that you won't be surprised when I tell you that I do not like writing letters. (A Man of Letters)

Kind of interesting that these both contain key words from the titles 🤔

Worst:

I'm not sure how I'm supposed to do this. (Use Your Words)

I love how the title seems to be answering Baz's question when the two are put together like this 😂

Strange that it should end here, where it all started. (At the Top of a Tower, With You)

The title also seems to complete the first line in this one, too. I'm learning about my writing as this goes on, so that's cool!

Best/Worst Last Line?

Hmm. Okay, again, no idea. Also, a little leery of including last lines for anyone who hasn't read the fics they're from yet. (Tho I guess it's unlikely those people would be reading this😆) But let's see what we've got.

Use Your Words and A Man of Letters have very similar final lines, and both are somewhat spoilery.

Best: The ending of A Man of Letters felt risky to me, in the way that it is formatted and changes tone from the rest of the story. It was something that happened as I wrote it and I loved it. I had no idea if readers would like it, if they would feel like it worked as an ending, but I felt strongly enough about it to let the entire fic hinge on that and I think it really paid off. So, without giving you the actual last line, which is only one word, I'm going to say that one is my best ending.

Worst:

To the Manor Borne: "Carry on, Simon."

It's not bad, it's just not mine.

Looking back, did you write more fics than you thought you would this year, fewer than you thought, or about what you predicted?

I did not set out to write any fics in 2020. I was supposed to be taking a break from writing. I've been an aspiring novelist for half my life now, and have been going through major ups and downs with my writing. I decided I needed to re-evaluate and figure out if writing was something that was even going to be able to make me happy anymore. The answer is: YES! Just…not original fiction. At the moment. I'm happiest when I can write for the sake of writing and not have to DO something with that writing. Which is why discovering fan fiction was AMAZING!!!! 🥰🥰🥰

To actually answer the question, yes, I wrote more than I thought I would. I also wrote exactly as much as I thought I would, simply because these were all things I signed up for (with the exception of my Countdown fic, but I committed to it as if it were something that required a sign up).

I have a lot more ideas for 2021, but I don't know how many of them will come to fruition. I'm not putting pressure on myself to have to do anything beyond what I sign up for again, because it did work out so well for me starting off.

What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted last year?

I mean, the pairing and the fandom were in no way a surprise. 😆 They're my only ones, so those were both a given. The genre is also not surprising.

What's your favorite story this year? Not the most popular, but the one that makes you the happiest?

A Man of Letters, without any hesitation. I adore it so much. It's the kind of fic I know I will unabashedly sit down to read over and over, even if I'm the one who wrote it. I had one reader to please and it was ME. By far, my most self-indulgent fic.

Okay, NOW your most popular story?

That depends on the metric.

To the Manor Borne leads in Comments (107), Kudos (153), and Hits (1992), and Use Your Words leads in Bookmarks (26).

But since To the Manor Borne is top in 3 out of 4 metrics, I'll say that one.

Story most upderappreciated by the universe?

I mean, the least popular by a wide margin is At the Top of a Tower, With You, but I don't know if I'd call it underappreciated. It's short, it's angsty, it's got a very unusual style, it's Lucy POV, it's the first fic I wrote and posted. I didn't really go into it with high performance expectations. I'm proud of it, I just didn't expect it to be popular. It would be nice if more people read it, but I'm not broken up over it.

Story that could have been better?

I'm not even going to touch this one. Everything can always be improved upon, but if I go down that route, nothing will ever be done. This is one of the things I have come to appreciate about traditional art versus digital. With traditional, there is only so much you can do before something is permanent and you have to live with it. It's an exercise in letting go and acceptance. Digital is flashier and more flexible, but I could (and have) spend months on a single piece and never feel satisfied, never stop tweaking. I think that's also the reason I started to hate my novels.

Sexiest story?

Based purely on overall vibes, I find the understated tension of the Regency the most appealing, so I'm going to say A Man of Letters. I didn't actually stray into sex territory in any of my fics (though Simon and Baz have had sex by the time To the Manor Borne starts, and refer to it, and probably do it "offscreen"), but A Man of Letters is the one that feels sexiest to me. Lots of thirsting!Baz and feral!Simon and sensual hand touching (how risqué!) - and YEARNING. That, to me, is the sexiest vibe of all. So. Much. Yearning.

Saddest story?

At the Top of a Tower, With You - for this one, I tagged "angst without plot" and I stand by that. It's Lucy losing her connection to Simon at the end of CO and trying to find a way to reconcile herself to leaving him alone again. I gave it as much of a hopeful bent as I could, with the refrain of Baz's spoken "love" to cling to, but it's very sad.

Most fun?

To the Manor Borne - All of my fics have their fair share of angst, but this one also has some good, silly, holiday fluff thrown in. Since I wrote it for the Countdown, each chapter was based on a different prompt, which led to this one going in all sorts of directions no single fic probably ever should. Plus, it has the most Shepard, and Shepard always makes things more fun.

Story with the single sweetest moment?

Oh my god. I don't know. No, never mind. I do. It's To the Manor Borne, but it's split between the two gift giving scenes, the Constellations and Secret Santa/Gift Giving prompts. These were private moments between Simon and Baz, sharing themselves with each other, being vulnerable, and communicating. It's the gifts they give each other, yes, but it's more so the reasons they chose those gifts, and how they show part of themselves and share their love for each other, through those gifts, that had me in tears writing those two scenes. I'm super proud of them.

Hardest story to write?

Use Your Words - it was written for an exchange and that made it really hard to write it knowing there was this pressure of making my gift-ee happy with the fic. I'm proud of it, and they really liked it, but the anxiety was too much for me.

Easiest/most fun story to write?

A Man of Letters - if there is a fic better suited to me as a writer, I haven't met it. I started writing after reading Pride and Prejudice in high school, so I started out writing Regency and I spent years and years and years of my life obsessed. When I transferred into college, an administrator I had never met before heard my name during orientation and said, "Oh, you're the Austen scholar." (It is a small, private college, and I was a transfer, so the pool of students was even smaller. But still. Many years later, I'm clearly not over it.) I also did my senior thesis on an epistolary novel (Frances Burney’s Evelina), and my English Lit emphasis was for that time period. So, I felt like I had been preparing for this fic my entire adult life. 😂

Did any stories shift your perceptions of the characters?

I don't think so. I tend to let my writing be dictated by the characters, so I'm always following their lead. Sometimes they'll do or say something that surprises me and takes me down a route I didn't necessarily foresee, but I don't think there was ever a point where one of them did something that made me rethink who they are as a character.

Most overdue story?

I will say A Man of Letters, since that one felt like a culmination of my seventeen-year-old self's wildest writing dreams. But I should probably say the Scooby Doo AU I still haven't managed to finish, because that one has been a WIP since I joined the fandom. Oops. (I'm hoping when I look over this in a year, I can feel smug that it's finally done.)

Did you take any writing risks this year? What did you learn from them?

Writing at all was a risk for me! And writing fan fic for the very first time! Writing an entire fic told only through letters. And then ending it in a completely different style from the rest of the fic. Doing a multi-chaptered fic for the Countdown, using a different prompt for each chapter, and publishing a chapter every single day for thirty days (with the exception of two days that had art). Signing up for fandom events in the first place!

What I learned from taking risks in my writing is the same thing I learned when I took risks in my art this year. I have a much better appreciation for what I've done when I push myself, I feel better about the end product, and I like it longer. I think it's really good for me to challenge myself creatively.

This year's theme and the story that demonstrates it most?

Oh boy. Um. Therapy! Both Use Your Words and To the Manor Borne had their big HEA moments built around sending Simon and Baz to therapy. I don't think that's likely to change for future fics, either. I feel like therapy as the theme for 2020 seems very fitting. (Also, I think I keep sending the boys to therapy because I'm trying to get myself there…)

What are your fic writing goals for next year?

Just to write what I want to write, have fun, not put any pressure on myself, and to take risks in my writing and my art because it will help me to grow.

#fan fic year in review #my fic #at the top of a tower with you #use your words #a man of letters #to the manor borne

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looselucy · 6 years

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I KNOW you must have answered this before but I've been searching and I can't find it, but I was wondering what your favorite chapter or scene is from each of your stories- in terms of writing? You're such an amazing writer and I'm curious to know what you think are your best written moments. LOVE YOU❤❤❤

OOOOOOOOOH THANK YOU SO MUCH, I LOVE QUESTIONS LIKE THIS! I think I may have answered for individual fics, but not all my fics so LETS FUCKING GO!I’m gunna do this under the cut because I have a lot of fics, so this is bound to get lengthy.

SO, my personal favourite parts from each of my stories!

Butterfly BoySo I do have a few personal stand out moments in BB. From when he helps her throw up, to their first kiss, to when she tells him she loves him, when they listen to Songbird together, every second of Mike Jokes, but I think when he finally admited he loves her… kills me. It genuinely feels like we wait so long for it and then to hear that he’s felt that way for so much longer than she has, and how he thinks she deserves better. It hurts.

“I am in love with you, Pippa. I have been in love with you for longer thanI’ve even liked you. I… I remember the exactmoment I fell in love with you.” “No you’re not.” I gasped, no idea what else to say.“Last November. I hadn’t even lived with you a month. Me and Zayn… We wentdrinking, and then we got back and you started drinking with us. You-you dranktoo much and you threw up. I walked into your room and… and I found you likethat and… I helped you. I sat on your bathroom floor with you, and helped youthrow up. You were barely dressed, slumped between my legs… sitting against melike you belonged there. You wereabsolutely fucked, but you were still so witty. You were so funny and so sharp…How could I not fall in love with you?”

This is why I love the scene where she first tells him so much, because he reacts so badly because he’d tried so fucking hard to get over her, and he was finally getting somewhere. It’s fine. I’m fine.

The Faux AffairAs you all know… this fic is the one I’m most proud of by miles. I don’t know if there are as many like… stand out moments in the story as there are in like BB, but I think as a piece it’s much better, and the imagery is stronger and the was I planned it and the hints dropped, it was all very precise. So I personally like scenes like the break up scenes, the nightmares, any mention of sunflowers and just generally the journey that Ren goes, y’know?HOWEVER, when they have sex. I’d never written anything quite like it before and it scared the shit out of me and when I posted it I went offline for hours just avoiding what people were saying because I was so nervous, but I still feel very proud of it.

In every possible timeframe, in every universe and every past-life, every dreamand every possible continuum, he had fallen in love with Florence DaisyValentine. Time and time again.

And I think as well… it’s just what that moment means for both of those characters. How substantial it is for both of them just being in that moment and feeling what they’re feeling. My ultimate couple.

The Lamb and The LionI love those little bastards so much. The chemistry and the history they have became this like thing that was almost out of my control. That’s why it went from being a one-shot to being this full fic like I had to keep writing them. I like that they’re far from perfect. They never have a stage where everything is sweet, it’s always messy and it’s always up in the air but they just can’t turn away from each other. That was fun to write!SO AGAIN, A FEW MOMENTS I LIKE! I like in the last chapter when he see’s George and you can just feel him being gutted and confused and kinda hurt and just… urgh. I also love the NYE when they’re not together anymore, but still very soft and painful. I love when he turns up after they’ve kinda ended things and says he’s falling in love with her.BUT, I actually really love when he turns up late to her part and she goes mad at him.

“I don’t need to beany more conscious of your schedule than I already am, Harry, and the fact thatyou can’t see that kills me.”“I see it now, I’m sorry!”“It’s toolate now! You shouldn’t needme yelling at you to realise what’s beengoing on with us for the past year! You should have known anyway! I am not justa fucking side character in your life, Harry. I’m toobusy being the lead of my own.”

I love Lulu. She loves him but she’s not gunna sacrifice herself for him, and he kinda does want her to, and I just love how she handles him and airs her feelings. I remember I’d been really looking forward to writing that scene! (I love a break up / argument hehehe)

AM GirlTwo moments for me here that really stand out. The first letter is always the one for me. It’s years old now but I’m still very very proud of it. The way it reads and stuff. I was dead chuffed with that.And then of course, the moment you realise that the letters are not from Harry the story is going to take this complete new turn and it happens in just a few words and the whole story feels and read completely differently after that. I love that twist. Die for a twist.

To WarThis story was written and alive in my head before I’d even really thought about actually writing a fic, and I very nearly didn’t, I just thought it was something that would stick in my head (there are a million stories in my head) but I’m glad I did decide to write it. I think the little bond between the two of them, and writing in that era was fun and different.And throughout, I was so excited to write the end. Everyone was ready for Alex to be hurt, or not come back, and I think it was good to write the other side of war, one that’s brushed over or forgotten a lot of the time, and that’s the people (women especially) who do the work at home. I loved writing that, and the way it’s not even a question to Alex that they’ll be together regardless.

“I don’t wantyou to feel guilty, for not wanting me anymore, Alex. I do understand. And I didn’t want you to feel… obligedto-”“Eve, stop.” He hushed her words to a halt, placing his hand steadilyon her leg. “You think… Do you really think this bothers me?Do you really think this would keep me from you?”“I don’t-”“I am in love with you, Evelyn. That hasn’t changed!” The more he spoke, the more comfortable she became gazingback to him. “This doesn’t change anything for me! It doesn’t change my feelings for you! I stilllove you, I… I still want a life withyou!”

Vitae & MortemI knew this story wouldn’t land with the majority of my readers. I stopped and started writing it numerous times because, as much as I knew it was going to happen, but it was a story I wanted to tell and I was writing it for me, it’s still hard receiving a small amount of feedback, which I did throughout this story. But I just had this idea that I needed to share. So I’m chuffed I finished it.And I think my personal favourite moment for me as the author, is this moment, when Harry loses his shit and almost attacks the Krows when he hears them talking about Jax.

“You let go of me!” Hescowled, pushing forward, but I only pushed back harder.“I can’t letyou do that! They will kill you!”“I’llfucking scream if you don’t move!”“Harry, I can’t watch you die!” Ihissed back at him, worrying over our tones but needing to be clear with him. “If you go over there, he will shootyou before you’ve even got near to them.”“Letme go!”“I am with you, Harry. I will fightwith you and I will help you, but I am not letting you do this. We have to runaway from this. Now.”“I want to fucking kill them.”“Think about what ya doing.” I instructed, feeling that he was nolonger pushing back against me, easing a little. “Juststop for a second, and think. Please.”His nostrils flared as he forced himself to calm down, tears bubbling in hiseyes but I knew he wouldn’t letthem fall. I knew they’d beenspurred by anger more than anything else, and they blurred his vision as heconcentrated on my face in order to calm down.

That for me is a genuine moment from a character we don’t see too many genuine moments from. I think that was his real, initial reaction, and he truly wanted to protect her then. He forgot what he was there to do, and he acted on instinct, and his instinct was to keep her safe. It hurts me because V&M Harry is the worst and the best all at once and IT ALL HURTS!THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS I’M SORRY IT’S SO LONG!

#anon #it's so LONG I'm so sorry #fics #mine

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19agbrown · 6 years

Text

Returned Part 1

Series: Returned

Supernatural fan-fic

Chapter: 1

Pairing(s): Dean x Cas(eventually)

Warnings: language, violence, mention of child abuse, sibling murder, some deancas fluff and angst, hinted deancas smut(nothing too bad, but I thought I should mention it anyway), dean nightmare, and let me know if there is something I should've put but didn't.

Note: This is my way of celebrating my blog hitting 200 FOLLOWERS. I'm very excited about this, and I've had this idea for a while, so I figured that I'd write it for my 200 celebration, but I'm delighted to say that that came far sooner than I expected. I just wanted to say thank you SO much for following me! And please let me know in the comments how you feel about chapter 1 of "Returned". If you want tagged for further chapters, let me know, and I'll see if I can figure out how to work the tags. If you have any suggestions for further chapters, let me know, and ill see what I can do to put it in! Once again, thank you all so much for following me! Chapter 2 will be posted soon!

(Dream in italics)

At 11:32pm, a black 1967 Chevy Impala pulled into the garage of an old Men of Letters bunker, carrying 5 weary passengers. The driver, a tall man with startling green eyes, sighed upon entering. "Home sweet home." This man, was Dean Winchester. And the other 4 passengers, of course, were; Sam and Mary Winchester, Castiel the Angel, and Jack Kline the Nephilim. The very odd family had just returned from a fairly tough Werewolf hunt.

Bruised, bleeding, and just plain exhausted, the family exited the car, and entered the seemingly endless hallway that would deliver them to the Bunker proper. "Who wants pancakes?" Mary asked with a falsely cheerful smile. "I do!" Jack replied almost at once. Mary gave Jack a tired chuckle and a fond smile. Sam said as he dropped the dark blue duffle bag onto the war room table, "I'm sure Dean does too." Dean shook his head, and said through a yawn, "No, I'm good." Sam frowned at Dean, and laughed when Castiel put a hand to Dean's forehead. Blushing a deep shade of pink, Dean spluttered, "C-Cas, what exactly are you doing?" Castiel squinted at Dean, and tilted his head to the side as he replied, "I am checking your temperature."

Ignoring Sam's extremely loud laughter, Dean asked, "And why are you doing that?" Dropping his hand, Castiel replied, "You turned down food, so I thought you might be sick." At this, Sam laughed so hard that Dean was surprised that he wasn't running for a bathroom. Dean's blush deepened from pink to red, as he said, "No Cas, I'm not sick, I'm just tired. I just need to sleep a little. Get my 4 hours in, ya know?" Castiel frowned, and said, "No, I do not. But I will take your word for it." Dean cleared his throat, and said, "Alright then. I'm going to bed. Unless... you would like to come with me?"

Dean said this with a slight hopefulness that did not escape the attention of Mary and Sam, but Castiel noticed nothing. In his typical confused fashion, Castiel took Dean's offer to be a joke. "So, this is sarcasm." He thought. Not knowing how to respond to what he took to be just Dean's sense of humor, Castiel treated it as a serious request. "No thank you, Dean. I will just go and read some lore in the library."

With sadness that was obvious to everyone in the room, Dean nodded, and turned on his heel. Thinking hopefully that Dean had not been just joking, Castiel reached his hand out to stop him from leaving. But Dean was already slipping moodily through the doorway, and into the winding hallway that lead to Dean's room.

Dean sped quickly to his room, cursing his own stupidity the entire way. Slamming the door behind him, Dean went in. Not bothering to even undress, Dean dropped down to his bed, and sprawled himself out on top of the covers. Dean thought that, as usual, he would be kept up by thoughts of Cas, but much to his surprise, his eye lids began to droop as soon as his head touched the pillow.

The few feet between them might as well have been miles. Dean started as his sweeping gaze caught bright blue eyes, blinking slowly in the dim light. "Hello Dean." The gravelly voice behind the eyes that he so loved spoke. "C-Cas?" Dean's voice echoed in the small space. Suddenly Cas was under him, and smiling a shy, but perfect smile.

Dean couldn't believe that this was happening. Cas was here, and Cas was his. He HAD to be dreaming. It was with a pang that he realized he really was dreaming. If this were real, Cas would never be here, or be his.

But, Dean decided to make the most of the most beautiful person he had ever seen, laying completely naked beneath him. Even if it WAS only a dream.

Cas gave of a cute little gasp as Dean's mouth crashed against his. Dean shuddered as Cas' long fingers dug into his back. "C-Cas?" Dean said shyly. Castiel ran his fingers through Dean's hair as he replied softly. "Yes Dean?" Dean gulped before saying the one thing that he had wanted to tell the real Cas for years.

"I love you." Cas offered Dean a shy smile and Dean studied his face as a hint of pink lit it up. "I love you too Dean." Dean sighed in relief. Dean's sigh turned into a growl as Cas ran his hand down Dean's back, going lower and lower. Dean gasped in shock as Cas' hand found it's destination.

Cas laughed a gravelly laugh that Dean could listen to forever, before pulling the blanket up over their heads.

When they finally reemerged from under the blanket, Dean's face was a mask of joy, and Cas' face was lit up with bliss. "That was..." Dean began before he trailed off. "I know." Cas said quietly. But just as Dean's arms wrapped around Cas' glowing frame, everything changed.

A whirlwind the color of blood spiraled across Dean's perfect dream, and Cas was ripped away from him. "Cas!" Dean shouted desperately. But Cas was unable to answer as he was carried away on the wind. Dean screamed as the whirlwind swept him up, and he was tossed all around the red vertex.

When the whirlwind finally dropped Dean, he was standing right smack in the middle of an old nightmare that he hadn't seen in years. This nightmare was something that Dean used to dread, but over the years, the event that lead to it had become so faint that Dean could almost pretend that it had happened the way he and John had told Sam it had.

Dean's tear filled green eyes were locked onto her blood shot brown ones. She was no older than he was, in fact she was 12 minuets younger, but she looked like she was years older. Dean knew her to be a very cheerful person, but the dark circles under her eyes told him that her story lately had not been so bright. Dean tried his best to keep his eyes averted from the scarlet blood that had been forcefully smeared across her mouth, but to no avail.

Dean started as his father's cold words bit into his brain like knives. "Do it Dean." He had said. The tears which Dean was struggling to hold back threatened to spill over as she begged him, "Dean... don't do it. Please don't do it." She wasn't crying, and Dean was not surprised. She was made of tougher stuff than that. His hands were slick with sweat on the leather covered handle of John's revolver. "Dean. Now." John Commanded.

Dean couldn't breathe. Her calm eyes bore into his, as she said in a reasonable tone, the same tone she had used when coaxing Sammy to finish his dinner, "Dean, you don't have to do this, you're better than this." His hands began shaking. He didn't want to do it, but what other choice did he have? "Dean! Do as I say!" John shouted angry at being disobeyed. Dean flinched, expecting the rough hit that would usually accompany his disobedience. But the hit never came, making Dean realize that John didn't want this either. Not really. But he had asked it to be done, so it had to be done. Slowly as he could, Dean reluctantly slid his index finger to the cold, steel trigger.

"Dean, you don't have to do what Dad says, you can walk away from this." Her soft and gentle tone did nothing to soften the implication of her words. Did she think he couldn't do it? Did she really think that he was that weak? He wasn't weak, and he meant to tell her that, but what came out instead would tell her just exactly what he had decided to do. "Shut up Alley! Just shut up! I'm not like you! I'm not a weak, insufferable coward! I don't abandon my family when they need me! I didn't take Sammy and run, leaving behind the only other 2 people who cared about me! No, Alley. I can't walk away. I won't walk away. I'm so sorry Sissy, and I hope that you'll forgive me in Heaven, if we make it there. If not, then see you in Hell."

Her brown eyes widened, betraying the first sign of terror. Her voice was pitched overly high as she said, "Dean..." BANG! Dean gasped as the tiny revolver recoiled in his sweaty hands. Dean screamed in anguish as he saw the perfectly round bullet-hole in her forehead. "You had to do it son." John said grimly, ignoring Dean's cries. Dean walked stiffly over to where she layed, rigid as a board. Dean fell to his knees next to her, and let his tears fall freely. Dean, gently as he could manage, cradled her head in his lap.

Dean then began rocking numbly back and forth. "I'm so sorry Sissy, I had to do it. I'm so sorry." Dean repeatedly whispered to her deaf ears. Dean's whispers slowly got louder as she just layed there, unknowing and uncaring that his very soul felt like it was shattering. John reached a shaking hand over Dean's shoulder and closed the glassy, sightless eyes of his only daughter. "Bye Princess." John whispered faintly.

Dean's whispers rose to screams of "Sissy wake up! I'm sorry Sissy! Please wake up!" Then he began repeating at the same volume, "Sissy no! Sissy no! Sissy no!" A deep rumbling voice that had never been there before yelled, "Dean wake up!" Dean heard the slightly familiar voice as if from the other end of a long, long tunnel. Dean watched in shock as Alley did something she had never done before. She woke up. "Dean." She said angrily. Dean's screams didn't stop, but his heart nearly did as she stood. The bullet-hole was miraculously gone, and she looked at him with none of the love he remembered seeing in those eyes, even when they were blank and glassy.

"Dean wake up!" the voice cut in again, sounding closer this time. "Dean," She said to him, some of the old love seeping back into her voice and eyes. "Beany, you've got to wake up. And you can't dream about me anymore okay?" Still screaming, Dean nodded. "There's my good -"

But her good what, he would never know, for at this moment, Castiel finally succeeded at waking him up. Dean sat up, still screaming her name. Castiel's arms enveloped him instantly. And mere seconds later, Sam's hand clamped onto his shoulder. Tears poured down Dean's face in streams. Great, wracking sobs ripped through Dean's body. "It's okay Dean. Shhhh... You're okay. You're safe, I promise." Castiel's voice soothingly rumbled. Dean shook his head, and burried his face into Castiel's shoulder.

Mary's voice sounded from somewhere to Dean's right, and she sounded worried. "What's wrong with Dean?" She asked. Dean dug his fingers into Castiel's back as he thought that she wouldn't care if she knew what he had done. Nobody answered Mary.

Castiel tilted his head a bit to the side and asked Sam, "Who is Sissy?" Cas and Sam immediately felt Dean tense. Sam took a moment to gather his thoughts, and then answered slowly, "Sissy is the nickname that Dean had for our sister." Mary nodded and said, "Like how he calls you Sammy." Sam shrugged, "Not exactly. He always called her that because she wasn't a sissy. She was tougher than Dean or I, and we all knew it. I think that calling her Sissy just made him feel better about it, and she never minded much, so he just kept doing it."

Castiel squinted at Sam. "You have a sister?" Sam nodded. "Yes. Well... had a sister..." Castiel tilted his head even further to the side. "Had?" Sam cleared his throat and said, "She died when I was 13. Vamp got her. Dad and Dean saw the whole thing, but couldn't stop it. She was Dean's twin." Castiel's arms tightened even more around Dean as Sam finished.

Miles away, the ground beneath a 23-year-old oak tree began heaving and moving. In a matter of minutes, a girl was crawling out of it. All 6 feet of her stood on the edge of the patch of churned earth, staring up at the light purple sky, just visible through the tree branches. It had been so long since she'd last seen the sky, but just how long, she had no clue.

"Dean," She whispered to the heavens with an edge in her voice. "I'm coming for you brother."

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