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artyandink · 1 year ago

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we could be more | dean winchester | 4

Summary: Ivonne Rainer was practically a trained killing machine. Stripped to the bone then built back up by her father in order to become one of the best, like he was. She was forced into hunting when she was nineteen, having developed powers that couldn’t be explained. That is, until she was paid a visit by Azazel’s lackey. Her powers were gone, she needed help, and that’s when she found her father’s journal. Pointing to Sam and Dean Winchester.

SERIES MASTERLIST

CHILDREN SHOULDN’T PLAY WITH DEAD THINGS

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : DRIVER’S LICENSE - OLIVIA RODRIGO

“Come on, Sam, I'm begging you. This is stupid.” Dean groaned as he drove the car.

”Why?” Sam asked.

”Going to visit Mom's grave? She doesn't even have a grave- there-there was no body left after the fire.”

“She has a headstone.”

“Yeah, put up by her uncle, a man we've never even met. So you wanna, go pay your respects to a slab of granite put up by a stranger? Come on.”

“It’s not about that.”

”Enlighten me then, Sam.”

“It's not about a body, or, or, a casket. It's about her memory, okay?”

“Mhmm.”

”And after Dad it ju-just feels like the right thing to do.”

“It's irrational, is what it is.”

”Look, man. No one asked you to come.”

”Why don't we swing by the roadhouse instead? I mean, we haven't heard anything on the demon lately. We should be hunting that thing down.”

”That's a good idea, you should. Just drop me off, I'll hitch a ride, and I'll meet you there tomorrow.”

”How about we ask what Beanie wants to do?” Dean turned slightly. “Whatcha wanna do?”

”Go to the graveyard.” I replied. “Believe it or not, my family’s tombstone is nearby. The night my family died was spent in Lawrence.”

“Well, then, you can pay your respects there.” Sam agreed.

We reached the graveyard, and I instantly started searching for our family plot. As soon as I found it, I sat at my dad’s grave, staring at the inscription of his name.

“Hey, dad.” I whispered. “It’s been 7 years since I last saw you, and if I’m being honest, it’s eating me alive cause I need you with me. I found your book and I saw your notes on Sam and Dean, so I found them and they’re protecting me from the dreamwalker cause the devil came after me, but only took away my powers. It feels like I’ve let you down.” My voice started breaking uncontrollably. “You told me to take care of my family, but there’s no one left to protect, so what am I here for?” I felt a tear drop onto my Panic!At the Disco t-shirt. “Dean and Sam have their own problems to deal with, b-but they insist that I don’t intrude. It’s… c-confusing.” I paused. “And there’s another thing. Everyone expects me t-to live up to either yours or mom’s name, but it’s so hard to do. I doubt I can-”

”Beanie!” I heard, so I left some flowers at the grave and went over to Dean.

“What?”

“Does this mean anything to you?” He pointed to the ground. There was a ring of dead grass surrounding a tombstone, along with a wreath of dead flowers. I wiped a tear from my eye, then nodded.

“It’s an odd ring of dead grass around a grave, it’s usually a sign of a troubled spirit or unholy ground.”

“You hear that, Sam?”

“Maybe the groundskeeper went a little agro with the pesticide.” Sam suggested, so I bent down and touched the soil, bringing it up to my face.

“Nope.” I shook my head. “If pesticide was still here, soil wouldn’t be dry. Excesses of it make the soil wet for a few hours after.”

“Okay, so what are you thinking?”

“Unholy ground.”

“Un-“ Sam stopped, looking dumbfounded.

“What? If something evil happened there, it could easily poison the ground.” Dean explained. “Remember the-the farm outside of Cedar Rapids?”

“Yeah, b-“

”Could be the sign of a demonic presence. Or the-the Angela girl's spirit, if it's powerful enough.” Dean grimaced at Sam’s nod. “Well, don’t get too excited, you might pull something.”

“It's just... stumbling onto a hunt? Here, of all places?”

“So?”

“So… are you sure this is about a hunt and not anything else?”

“What else would it be about?”

“Boys.” I sighed, going and getting a newspaper from a nearby stand.

“You believe what you want, Sam, but -- I let you drag my butt out here, the least we could do is check this out.”

“Yeah. Fine.” Sam grumbled.

“Her dad works as a professor at the university here.” I informed, looking up.

“Dr. Mason?” Dean knocked on the door in the university, and Dr Mason opened it.

“Yes?” He replied.

“I'm Sam. This is Dean, and this is Ivy.” Sam introduced. “We were friends of Angela's. We... we wanted to offer our condolences.”

“Please, come in.” We entered, and while Dean went to the shelves, Sam and I sat down.

“She was beautiful.” Sam smiled, looking at a photo.

“She was.” Dr Mason nodded sadly. I got up, going to the door.

“I’m going to get some fresh air.” I excused, then shut the door behind me. I looked around at the bustling students, and I gulped, remembering my brief time at college before I dropped out.

“You look lost.” I turned to see a dude who seemed to be six foot tall, making me feel small since I was 5’ 8”. He had dark brown hair, brown eyes and a smile that could probably blind me. He was dressed smartly, and glasses framed his eyes, giving him a geeky look. “Are you a student?”

“God, no.” I chuckled. “I’m here visiting Dr Mason with my brothers. We were friends with Angela.” I held out my hand. “I’m Lily Carter.”

“Nate, but the students call me Mr Coleman.” He shook my hand. “I’m sorry about Angela.”

“So am I.” I smiled. “It’s hard, but I’m dealing.”

“Your brothers are helping, huh?”

“More than I think they are.” I nodded. “They’re going through things too, so they need my help as well.”

“Sounds like a good thing.” He grinned, then looked like he was hesitant for something. “C-Can I get your number?”

“Oh, sure.” I pulled out my phone and so did he, and I read out my number. When we were done, his cheeks were red, a goofy smile on his face.

“Do you think we can-“

“Beanie?” Dean and Sam came out from the office, and found me. “C’mon, let’s go.”

“I’ll see you around, yeah?” I asked.

“Course I will.” He grinned. “It was great meeting you, Lily Carter.”

“And you, Nate Coleman.” I replied, then walked off with the boys.

“I never knew ‘a breath of fresh air’ meant ‘find a new man’.” Dean teased.

“Dean, it wasn’t like that-“

“Don’t think that we didn’t see you staring at that dude like he was a cup of coffee.” Sam chuckled. “Just couldn’t resist him.”

“I got his number, but-“

“Don’t think we’ve forgotten about Will.” Dean snorted.

“Yeah, Will.” Sam laughed. “Speaking of Will, have you two been in contact since we left?”

“Nope.” I replied. “Just another relationship on the go.”

“We’ve had our fair share.” They both nudged me.

“Speaking of which, where are we staying for tonight?” Dean asked.

“I’ve got a safe house here.” I offered.

“How many safe houses do you have?”

I held up a set of keys.

“Damn.”

The moment we had gotten into the Impala, Dean had been blabbing on about how we ‘found something’. Sam was forever sceptical, and I was trying to find a quiet moment so I could text Nate.

“I'm telling you, there's something going on here. We just haven't found it yet.” Dean repeated as we closed the house door.

“Dean, so far you've got a patch of dead grass and nothing.” Sam groaned.

“Well, something turned that grave into unholy ground.”

”There's no reason for it to be unholy ground. Angela Mason was a nice girl who died in a car crash. That's not exactly vengeful spirit material. You heard her father.”

“Yeah, well, maybe Daddy doesn't know everything there is to know about his little angel, huh?”

“You know what? We never should have bothered that poor man. We shouldn't even be here anymore.”

“So what, Sam? What, we just bail? Without even figuring out what's going on?”

“I think I know what's going on here. It's the only reason I went along with you this far.”

“What are you talking about?”

“This is about Mom’s grave.”

“Oh, he just went there.” I whispered, breathing out.

Dean scoffed. “That’s got nothing to do with it.”

“You wouldn't step within a hundred yards of it. Look. Maybe you're imagining a hunt where there isn't one so you don't have to think about Mom. Or Dad.” Sam persisted.

“I’m not taking this-“ They were interrupted by my keys jingling, and I put my leather jacket on, ignoring their faces as I fixed my crop top.

“Where are you going?” Sam asked.

“Thanks for realising that I’m still here.” I smiled falsely. “Now, if you excuse me, I’m heading to the bar, alone, to get a drink. You two have a copy of the keys if you want to do something similar.” I went out of the door, walking to the bar.

I was busy drinking a whiskey at the bar, merely cause I was in the mood for something fancier than beer.

“You alright, sweetheart?” The bartender asked, prepping a drink.

“Yeah, I’m just getting away from my brothers. They might be wrestling at this point.” I replied with a scoff.

“I used to do that with my brothers. My mom said it should be professional.” He chuckled. “Anyway, I have something for you.” He gave me a Cosmopolitan, and I frowned.

“I didn’t ask for this.”

“But the gentleman across the bar did. Paid for it an’ all.” He pointed to…

“Nate.” I half exhaled, half laughed as he walked up to me, sitting down on the bar stool beside me.

“Lily.” Nate grinned. “I never thought I’d see you again, not after your… brothers… whisked you away.”

“Why the emphasis?” I asked, sipping the Cosmo.

“Because I never knew that Lily Carter could be the sister of Sam and Dean Winchester.”

I choked on my drink. “You know?”

“A lot of hunters know who those two are.” He nodded. “So your name isn’t really Lily Carter, is it?”

“Nope.” I chuckled. “Ivonne Rainer.”

“Michael Rainer’s daughter?”

“You bet.” I smirked, then took out his ID, which I’d nifted from his pocket. “And your name isn’t Nate Coleman, is it, Xavier?”

“You got me.” He grinned. “I’m actually Xavier Jackson.”

“I never thought I’d see a hunter work undercover as a school teacher.”

“I joined the day after Angela’s death.” Xavier explained. “Something was up, cause I’d seen her grave. I’ve never seen a more obvious mark of-“

“-unholy ground.” We finished together, then started laughing. I drank my Cosmo to stop laughing, but then he seemed hesitant to say something.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“The first time I saw you with Sam and Dean, I thought you and Dean were dating or you liked each other, and I was scared to text you-“

I started laughing again, wiping a tear of laughter from my eye. “No way, Dean and I are friends! He just calls me Beanie cause I wore one the first time we met.”

”Phew.” He pretended to wipe off sweat from his forehead, adjusting his glasses. “I-I thought I had some competition, to say the least.”

“There’s nothing in your way, trust me.” I grinned.

I woke up, squinting my eyes at the bright light of the sun and sighing. I giggled when an arm wrapped around my waist, somebody peppering kisses along my shoulder.

“Last night was amazing.” Xavier whispered in my ear, and I turned around to face him.

“Last night was a blur.” I joked. “Can you remind me what happened?”

“Are you-“

“I’m kidding!” I laughed, cupping his cheek and rubbing my thumb against it softly. “Yeah, last night was… I don’t have words.”

“Your phone is ringing, though.” He whispered, and I pulled the sheets over me as I reached over, seeing the caller ID.

Sam.

“Oh, damn.” I cursed, then picked it up. “Hey, Sam?”

‘Ivy, thank god. You didn’t come home last night, where are you?’

“You know Nate, right? I met him at the bar, but I was a bit drunk and he took me to his house since it was nearer and neither of us brought cars.”

‘You could’ve called either me or Dean.’

“And risk either of you ranting about how dumb the other person is? Hell no.”

‘True- Dean, you’ll get your chance to talk- hey!’

‘Text me the address, Beanie, I’ll be there in five.’

“Fine.” I cut the call, texted Dean the address, then grabbed my clothes and quickly slipped into them.

“Call me later, yeah?” Xavier asked while putting his shirt on. The moment it went on, I never could’ve guessed he was jacked.

“Of course I will.” I kissed his cheek then his lips, but he kept me there by holding my hips. I pulled back, grinning. “Dean’s gonna give you the dad talk if he finds us kissing, even if he’s not my dad.”

“Right.” He combed his hair while I reapplied my lip gloss, picking up my keys and putting on my jacket.

“By the way,” I breathed, “you have the hottest sleeper build ever.”

“Glad to know.” He smiled, kissing my hand just as the roar of the Impala came from the other side of the door. I opened the door, waving and getting into shotgun, turning to Dean.

“No call.” He lectured. “No text, no warning that you might not be back-“

“Chill, Dean.” I sighed.

“And even after that, there’s no sign of a hangover. In fact, you’re weirdly glowing…” He paused, his head whipping round. “You got laid.”

“I, uh…” He pulled my collar down then let out a loud laugh, returning my collar to where it was. “You did! And by geek guy as well!”

“His name is Xavier.”

“I thought it was Nate.”

“He’s undercover investigating Angela.”

”We’re on a hunt and you got yourself laid.”

“Don’t think I don’t know about Cassie.”

The comment made him pause. “No comment. Was he good?”

“WHAT?!”

”It’s a genuine question! Did he treat you right?”

“He was great.”

“Then I have no problem.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “You deserve to be happy, Beanie. My job is to protect you.”

We ended up at Angela’s roommate, Lindsey’s, apartment. Dean unlocked it, and we walked in, and he picked up a picture, but there was a reflection.

Of Lindsey.

“Who the hell are you?” She confronted before she shut the door, seemingly locking it.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, hold on!” Dean called.

“I’m calling 911!”

“Hear me out!” I spoke up. “I’m here with Angela’s cousin. Alan? Alan Stanwick? We’re here to pick up Angela’s stuff because her dad sent us.”

She opened the door slightly. “He never told me you were coming.”

“We have the keys to your house, sweetheart.” I smiled, holding up the keys.

“Who are you?”

“Naomi Wickham.” I lied. “Alan is my… boyfriend.”

She came back out, coming face to face with us. She sat down on the sofa, and started crying, so we sat down and handed her a Kleenex tissue.

“So. I'm sure you got a, a view of Angela that none of the family got to see.” Dean- I mean Alan- said. “Tell me, what, what was she like? I mean, what was she really like?”

”She was great.” She sobbed. “She was so, so…”

“Great?”

“Yeah.” She nodded before breaking down again. In an attempt to play the kind girlfriend, I gave her a tissue.

“Here you go.” I soothed. “You two must have been really close, huh?”

”We were. But it's not just her, it's Matt.”

“Who?” Dean asked.

“Angela’s boyfriend.”

“Right.” I nodded. “What about him?”

“He killed himself last night. He cut his own throat. Who does that?” Lindsey wailed, taking another tissue.

“That’s terrible.”

“He was taking Angela's death pretty hard, and I guess... I mean, he'd been messed up about it for days.”

”Messed up how?” Dean asked.

“He kept on saying that he saw her everywhere.”

“Well, I’m sure that’s normal, with everything he was going through.”

“No, he said that he SAW her. As in, an acid trip or something.”

“Were Angela and Matt a happy couple? I mean, is there any reason that Angela would be angry with him?” Dean persisted.

“What? No, of course not, why do you ask?” She looked confused, so I had to step in.

“Just checking, Lindsey. Where did Matt live?”

We opened the door to my safe house, hearing something weird going on with the television. Sam threw down the remote, acting as if nothing was wrong.

“Hey.” He coughed.

“Hey.” Dean grimaced.

“Awkward.” I whistled. “Let’s not have me come home to that again, eh?”

”Where in the hell were you?” Sam asked, deflecting.

“Working my imaginary case.” Dean sniped.

“Yeah? And?”

“Well, you were right, I didn't find much. Yeah. Except Angela's boyfriend died last night. Slit his own throat. But, you know, that's normal. Uh, let's see, what else. Oh, he was seeing Angela everywhere before he died. But you know, I'm sure that's just me transferring my own feelings.”

“Okay, I get it. I'm sorry, maybe there is something going on here.”

“Maybe? Sam, I know how to do my job, despite what you might think.”

“Hey, maybe we should check out the overall situation.” I interrupted. “We went to Matt’s apartment and it’s the same thing as the cemetery. Dead plants, hell, even dead goldfish.”

“So, unholy ground?” Sam asked.

“Maybe. I'm still not getting that powerful angry spirit vibe from Angela.” Dean picked up a pink book, showing it to us. “I have been reading this, though.”

“You stole the girl's diary?”

“Yeah, and if anything, she’s a little too nice.” I remembered a book from Dr Mason’s room, so I pulled out every language book I had in my satchel.

”Are you kidding me? I have her bestest friend in the whole wide world.” Dean turned to me. “What’s going on, Beanie?”

“Did you see a book with strange symbols in Dr Mason’s room?” I asked, flipping the book.

“Yeah, I showed him it.”

“I’m gonna need at least a few samples.”

“I didn't realise the college employed grief counsellors.” We were at the house of a guy named Neil, who seemed to be close friends with Angela.

“Oh yeah. Yeah, you talk, we listen. Or maybe throw in a little therapeutic collage, whatever jump-starts the healing.” Dean nodded.

“Well, I think I’m ok, thanks.” Neil refused.

“You heard what happened to Matt Harrison, right?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, I did.”

“Well, we just wanted to make sure you were okay.” I smiled. “Grief can make people do crazy things.”

”Look, I'm sorry about what happened to him. I am. But if Matt killed himself it wasn't 'cause of grief.”

“No? Then why?”

“It was guilt. Angie's death was Matt's fault and he knew it.” He said it almost bitterly, piquing my interest.

”How, Neil?”

“Well, she really loved that guy. But the night of the accident she walked in on him with another girl.” Neil explained. “She was really torn up, that's why she crashed the car. Um, look, I gotta get ready for work, so ... thanks for the concern, but... seriously, I'll be okay.”

We left the house, a little more assured than last time.

“Well, that vengeful spirit theory's starting to make a little more sense.” Dean shrugged. “I mean, hell hath no fury...”

“So if Angela got her revenge on Matt, you think it's over?” Sam asked as we got into the car. I was in the driver’s this time to give Dean a break.

“Well, there's one way to be sure.”

“Yeah?”

“Burn the bones.”

“Are you high?” I scoffed. “By ‘burning the bones’ you mean burning a still rotting body. That could release an angrier spirit.”

“C’mon,” Dean chuckled, “since when are you afraid to get your hands dirty?”

We were digging Angela’s grave, the three of us panting as we tossed soil into a large pile. When we were done, Dean gestured to the coffin.

“Ladies first.” He joked to Sam, who winced and opened the coffin-

“What the hell?” I exclaimed. The coffin was empty.

“This can’t be possible.” Sam frowned.

“They buried the body four days ago.” Dean fumed.

“I don’t get it.”

I aimed my torch at the side of the coffin, seeing inscriptions. I got in, bending down so I could see the letters properly.

“Beanie? Got something?” Dean called. I pulled a pen and a flip notepad out of my inside pocket, balancing the notepad on my knee as I quickly wrote down the inscriptions, every small marking possible. “Beanie!”

“We need to get back to the safe house.” I clicked my tongue, holding out my torch to see the paper. “I’m not translating this thing in a graveyard.”

“Alright, what now?” Dean asked, sitting down at the table. I sipped a cup of coffee, taking out every language book in my satchel and laying them out on the table, opening them to the title page. Then I reached in, digging my hand around, shoulder deep.

“Ivy, say something.” Sam urged.

“Alright, then.” I cleared my throat, still searching. “Where is this thing? Oh, right. So, that is an Ancient Greek dialect, as you know. But it’s gonna take me days to find the right one, and we don’t have that kind of time, so I need a little help.” I closed my fingers around a long cylindrical vial full of clear liquid. “Is this the truth serum?” I pulled the cap off, tapping the side twice. It glowed blue, so I smiled. “This is it.” I dipped a finger in it and made an inscription on the paper, feeling proud that I could actually still somewhat retain something from my witch days. “It’s actually relieving that I can still use some parts of sorcery.” I poured a careful amount in my hand and flicked it, drops of water landing on the front pages, but they absorbed the liquid and were left dry.

“What are we waiting for?” Sam whispered.

“Wait for it.” I grinned, and then the pages of every book started moving, flipping back and forth, searching for the right dialect.

“This is cool.” Dean laughed, his hands out and his expression like a child. “We’re experiencing witchery firsthand, Sammy.”

“I can see that, Dean.” Sam quickly replied. Then some books started closing with a snap, all of them shutting until one in the top left corner opened on a page with the exact dialect on it. I picked it up, placing it down on the left of the sheet I’d copied the scripture down on.

“Vitam superiorem voco. Legiones inferorum voco. Magnam virtutem invoco, o diabole, ut hanc animam vivifices. Mihi, illis, vitae.” I recited.

”Hey, you might summon a body!” Dean warned, but I waved him off.

“I need to inscribe this on a coffin for it to work, so chill, you little squirrel.” I chuckled, then looked over them again. “Translation: I call it a higher life. I call the legions of hell. I invoke a great power, O devil, for you to revive this soul. For me, for them, and for life.” I whistled. “This is an incantation for a ritual typically used in necromancy. You can use it to chat to souls on the other side or revive fresh corpses. But you can’ just do a random person, it has to be someone close to you and it requires a blood sacrifice.”

“Blood sacrifice?” Sam repeated.

“You heard me. Person we’re looking for most likely has a rune in their arm. But best bet? Dr Mason. Man knows his Ancient Greek.” I drew air in through my teeth, stacking the books one by one and placing them in my satchel.

“I know we’ve never really touched the subject, but…” Sam pointed to my arm, the one with the rune on it, “how do you get by without your powers?”

“I’ve done a lot of hobbies, and one was hunting. I’ve been training since I was around six or seven, which was when Dad taught me how to draw pretty shapes with salt, what he called holy water and oil. Then when I was ten, he gave me books on different creatures and how to kill ‘em. Then when I was thirteen, he took me to a range in the middle of the woods where he taught me to shoot. By the time I was off to college, I was an expert marksman, a good fighter since he’d put me in martial arts, I knew almost everything there is to know about things and how to kill ‘em. I only got my powers at 19, so I could get by pretty well if I didn’t have ‘em.”

“Your dad taught you well.” Dean smirked.

“Yeah, by the time I was, what, fifteen, I could just do this.” I covered my eyes, aiming for a target board on the wall and firing, uncovering my eyes and seeing that it hit bullseye.

“I couldn’t do that at fifteen.” He grumbled. I checked the time, then cleared my throat.

“I’ve gotta go, boys.”

“Why?” Sam asked.

“I’ve got a date.” The two whistled, making me grimace. “You’re both idiots.”

“Well, c’mon, we need to get you ready!” Sam grinned, starting to fluff up my hair. Dean folded my jacket’s collar, clicking his tongue.

“You go and spend some time with Xavier, we’ll confront the old man.” Dean winked.

“If we need you, we’ll call you.”

“Thanks, guys.” I smiled. “Even if you two are both annoying.”

”You’re like our sister, Beanie.” Dean smirked, taking my necklace and hanging it down the front of my shirt, where the green stone was visible. “But if Xavier breaks your heart, I am taking my pistol and going for him myself.”

”I don’t know, maybe I can talk to Angela to get the deed done.”

I was waiting for Xavier outside a bar, when I felt someone’s presence.

“Who’s there?” I frowned, putting my hand on my gun.

“Don’t shoot.” Angela was beside me. “You’re Ivonne. Ivy.”

”Speaking.” I still kept my hand on my gun. “But why?”

”I know your brother. Carter.” She explained. “We met on the other side and asked me to find you. He wants to tell you who took over his mind the night he died.”

”Tell me.” I gritted my teeth. “Angela, so help me, tell me who did it.”

”It was-“

”Ivy?” Xavier was walking towards me, and the next thing I knew, Angela was gone. “Hey.”

”Hey.” I grinned, pecking him on the cheek. “It’s been such a long time.”

”I know, eight hours is way too long.”

After a while of talking, I got a phone call from Dean. I picked it up, sighing. “Really? Three hours?”

’It wasn’t Dr Mason.’ Dean replied. ‘But, uh, we need some help with the rest of this.’

“Do you need my help so you don’t verbally assault anyone else?”

‘Pretty much.’

“I’ll be there.” I cut the call, grimacing. “The boys need me.”

”That’s fine.” Xavier shrugged. “I don’t mind it, cause I know how it is. Go, solve the case.”

”Ok, Xavier.” I smiled, giving him a kiss. “Thanks.”

”Go get it, then thank me again.” He grinned, and I picked up my stuff, got a taxi and drove back to the safe house. I unlocked the door, hung up my jacket, and went into the kitchen.

“You needed me?”

”We think Neil is the one who brought back Angela.” Sam explained.

”Is there some voodoo that you can use to track the spell’s caster down?”

“There should be, yeah.” I nodded, reaching in my satchel and pulling out a spell book and a bundle of rosemary. I arranged the rosemary into a rune, writing Neil’s name onto a sheet of paper and taking Dean’s lighter, muttering an incantation before burning the paper, letting it fall onto the rosemary. All of it burnt to ashes, but then turned red and started forming a person. A person who looked like the spitting image of Neil himself. “There we go.”

“Neil resurrected Angela.” Sam breathed. “The things you’d do for love.”

“But these things are typically what you shouldn’t do.” I clicked my tongue. “Sam, anything in John’s journal?”

“No lore.” He shook his head.

“What, you can’t just smoke ‘em with a headshot?” Dean asked.

“Man, you watch way too many Romero flicks.”

“Well, they can’t be unkillable.” I pulled out a book and opened it. “Oh, god help me, this is in Babylonian even though it’s an Ancient Greek manner of killing the revived. Give me a second.” I peered at it for a second. “The most sure-fire way to kill these things is through a blood sacrifice. Theirs. In order to get the blood, they say you have to ‘nail the dead into their grave beds’.”

“We have to find dear Angie, then.” Dean resolved, storing his gun on his person.

”But Angela’s going to be hard to neutralise, so prepare silver bullets just in case.” I replaced the cartridge full of lead bullets in my gun with a cartridge of silver bullets.

“Got it.”

We unlocked the door to Neil’s house, my gun held up.

“Hello? Neil?! It's your grief counsellors- we've come to hug.” Dean called, and I gave him a look. “What?”

“Really?!” I whispered as he pulled out a gun.

“Silver bullets?” Sam asked.

“Enough to make her rattle like a change purse.” Dean smirked.

“Wilted plants.” I nodded. “And creepy basement door. Unless he keeps his private collections down there, I’d say this is a good place to keep a killer zombie.” Sam opened the door and both Dean and I sped to the landing, holding our guns out as we stepped down the stairs. However, it was empty.

“Sure looks like a zombie pen to me.”

“An empty one. You think she’s gone to get someone?”

Dean pulled back a vents revealing a hole. “Nah, I think she’s gone to rent beaches.”

“Look, smartass, she might kill someone. We gotta find her, Dean.”

“Well, Matt was killed because he cheated on Angela, right?” I asked, hands in my pockets.

“Yeah.” They both answered.

“So it takes two to tango. Plus, Angela’s roommate Lindsey seemed a little too attached to Matt’s death.” I deduced. “I think we need to pay another visit to Lindsey.”

We drove up to Lindsey’s house, running up to the front door. We opened it and I ran past the boys, aiming at Angela and firing three times. She writhed, screaming and facing us. I shot one more time, hitting Angela in the chest, and she cried out and ran out of the window.

“I’ve got you.” Sam whispered to Lindsey, holding her. Dean ran out of the window that Angela burst through, running back in a second later.

“Well, that dead chick can run.” Dean scoffed. “I think we should have a little chat with Neil.” We made sure Lindsey was safe before running to the car, getting in and driving off to Neil’s house.

”So the silver bullets, they did something, right?”

“Something, but not enough.”

“Time to try the nailing into their grave thing as a Plan B.” I grimaced. “I know where we can get a pole from, so I’ve made a call. This is probably where all the vampire lore comes from, now that I think of it.”

“How the hell are we going to get Angela back to the cemetery?” Dean asked.

“You tell me, Winchester.” We pulled up at Neil’s office, knocking sharply on the door. When there was no answer, I took a picking tool and opened it, all of us advancing into his room.

“What are you guys doing here?” Neil asked, standing up.

“You know, I've heard of people doing some pretty desperate things to get laid, but you -- you take the cake.” Dean scoffed.

“Ok- who are you guys?”

“You might want to ask Angela that question.”

“What?”

“We know what you did, Neil.” I persisted. “You brought back Angela. Kid, I’ve gone through a fair share of rituals myself and I know one when I see one.”

“You're crazy.” Neil stammered.

“Your girlfriend's past her expiration date and we're crazy?” Dean scoffed. “When someone's gone they should stay gone. You don't mess with that kind of stuff.”

”It’s black magic, Neil.” I sighed.

“Angela killed Matt. She tried to kill Lindsey.” Sam exclaimed urgently.

“I don't know what you're talking about.” Neil whispered.

Dean stomped over, taking Neil roughly by the collar. “Hey! No more messin’ around, Neil. His blood is on your hands. Now. All of us can make this right, but you've gotta tell us where she is. Tell us!”

“She’s at my house!” He burst out, looking hounded. Dean spotted a wilted plant and so did Sam and I, so Dean formulated a plan.

”You sure about that?” When Neil nodded, Dean smirked his proud smirk. “Listen. It doesn't really matter where she is. There's only one way to stop her. We've got to perform another ritual over her grave, to reverse the one that you did. We're going to need some black root, some-some scar weed, some candles... It's very complicated, but it'll get the job done. She'll be dead again in a couple hours. I think you should come with us.” Dean stared intently. “I'm serious, Neil. Leave with us. Right now.”

“No, no.”

I leaned in, dropping my voice to a whisper. “I get your situation, Neil. But more people could die. So, listen to me carefully. Get out of here as soon as you can. But most of all, be cool. No sudden movements. Don't make her mad.” He nodded shakily, and I patted him in the shoulder. I raised my voice deliberately, turning to Sam and Dean. “C’mon, let’s go.”

“You really think this is going to work?” Sam asked.

“Nope.” Dean shrugged. “But it’s the only plan we’ve got.”

”You ordered a metal pole?” Xavier showed up with a pointy metal rod, which he gave to Dean.

“Yeah, we did.” I grinned, kissing Xavier briefly. “Thanks, Zay.”

“We owe you, man.” Sam grinned, shaking his hand.

“Yeah, we do, Zay.” Dean teased. “I’m kidding. Name’s Dean.”

“Xavier, as you know.” He smirked, both of them shaking hands. We heard a noise, and I pulled a gun from my arm holster, going in the direction of the sound. I heard steps behind me, so I turned around and pointed my gun at Angela, who stopped short, putting her hands up.

“Wait! It's not what you think. I didn't ask to be brought back.” She begged. “But it's still me. I'm still a person. Please.”

“Do I care?” I scoffed, then shot her in the forehead. Her head snapped back as she screamed, and I started for the grave, but she tackled me, and twisted my head back.

“I could’ve told you who killed your brother!” She snarled. “Now you have to die, just like he did.”

“Yeah, right.” I shot her in the chest, getting up and shooting again. Another bullet joined me: Dean’s. We both fired at her again and again, until she reached the end, to which Xavier fired a shot from his gun, and she fell in. Dean took the pole, stabbing it into her.

“What’s dead should stay dead.” He growled.

“WAIT! NO-“ Dean drove the stake through her, and she immediately went limp, cutting off her last plea.

”Finally.” I groaned, replacing my cartridge.

Dean seemed rather off after we re-killed Angela, and Sam wanted to keep Xavier company, so the other two were driving back to my house in Xavier’s car. Dean’s hands were gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were white, and then he suddenly pulled over. He got out and so did I, watching as he sat down on the hood.

“What’s going on?” I asked, sitting down.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, looking down.

“For what, Dean?”

“The way I've been acting. And for Dad. It’s my fault that he’s dead.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I know you and Sam've been thinking it -- so have I. Doesn't take a genius to figure it out. Back at the hospital, I made a full recovery. It was a miracle. And five minutes later Dad's dead and the Colt's gone.”

I sighed. “Dean…”

“You can't tell me there's not a connection there. I don't know how the demon was involved. I don't know how the whole thing went down exactly. But Dad's dead because of me. And that much I do know.”

“We don’t know that, not for sure.”

“You, Sammy and Dad ... you're the most important people in my life.” He started crying, and I took his hand. “And now ... I never should've come back, Ivy. It wasn't natural. And now look what's come of it. I was dead. And I should have stayed dead. You and Sam wanted to know how I was feeling. Well, that's it. So tell me. What could you possibly say to make that all right?”

“I can’t.” I whispered, but I instead leaned his head on my shoulder, letting him cry it out. “But I know how you feel.”

PREVIOUS | NEXT

#dean x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #sam and dean #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #spn masterlist #supernatural oc #dean winchester x oc #dean winchester x you #supernatural #ivonne rainer

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deathly-silence · 26 days ago

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Journal Entry 504 Two kids on the run in the same week. Fuck. What am I even supposed to do with that? I keep looking the other way. I shouldn't. I wonder how much longer this is going to last. No one's been in my head since the dreamwalker. Maybe it's for the best.

#cambell's logs #redacted roleplay

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kitpanthera · 4 months ago

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Chapters 7-8 🎉

traditional notice about not having to answer every question and i'm just so grateful you're reading them and (potentially) answering them to begin with!!

1. dipper writing the dreamwalking spell down -- potential foreshadowing of dipper making his own journal/spellbook?

2. is dipper knowing how to instinctual do things like spacial manipulation a bill deal? or an instance of bill hyping him up? is the spacial manipulation really "high level stuff"?

3. do dipper's eyes naturally glow when he's using magic or (like with his birthmark) is it another instance of bill causing that to make him seem more magical/special?

4. will the president's key show up again?

5. is the cabin being comfortable bill's goal because it's his space or because he wants dipper to like it there (think house on the other side of the door in coraline)?

6. is the cabin based off of his home in his original dimension? insp pulled from the mystery shack when it was ford's home?

7. dipper not feeling pressure to speak around bill... is that because he views him speaking to other people as his way to prove that he's smart (and thus useful or important)?

8. can bill read dipper's thoughts while they're in the mindscape?

9. was the story about mabel "turning" dipper invisible foreshadowing dipper turning them both invisible later on? or just another way of showing dipper's dynamic with those around him in piedmont?

10. building off of Q 8, why did bill chose then to share stories? was he aware that dipper was still having some doubts and this was his way of trying to get rid of them?

1. Perhaps? Perhaps not? Yet to be seen. :)

2. It's higher level than Bill expected him to be able to do at this stage. He's sort of just... advancing slightly faster than he expected him to. He is exaggerating, though.

3. His eyes do naturally glow! That's one of my favorite little tropes with magic use.

4., 5., and 6. Yet to be revealed!

7. Partly, yes. Normally when he talks a lot, he's trying to get someone's attention. He gets talked over a lot pretty much everywhere he goes, so it's a struggle to be heard most times, even in one on one interactions. With Bill, he doesn't feel the pressure to talk all the time, to strive for his attention, because Bill has made it clear that he hears him and listens to him. Silence is allowed to be comfortable, not awkward or punishing.

8. Can he? That's a good question. :)

9. A bit of both. I wanted to foreshadow an actual magical ability while also displaying how unseen Dipper has felt his whole life (and a small taste of the role Mabel has played in that).

10. Well, Bill knows Dipper had asked a few questions before about him and his past, which he redirected from. His timing could be related to Dipper's thoughts, if he can read them, or could be coincidentally perfect! But by offering the information himself, in exchange for more openness from Dipper, it gives more of a feeling of camaraderie that way.

#gravity falls #gravity falls fandom #ao3 fanfic #gravity falls fanfiction #bill cipher #fanfic #dipper pines #bill cipher gravity falls #taketwogfau

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lumilasi · 1 year ago

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Three out of four staff made. I decided to make Thalia appear older than her original, ages old design, as she's been around ever since Harrow was a kid, and Harrow is considered an older gentleman even among Soul Eaters.

Now only the energetic Scarlet left

Anyway, more Thalia info below:

Name: Thalia Swanson

Nicknames: Ma'am (rest of the staff) Swan/Lia (Harrow)

Age: Unknown, but she is older than even her employer Harrow, who is roughly 230 years old.

Height: 176 cm

Occupation: Butler/Chief-of-staff of the Blackthorne Mansion

Family: unknown

Friends: her staff, Harrow's wife Yui, Rikka & Hanma(Harrow's cousin and his wife.)

Love interest: none

Abilities:

Clairvoyance: She can see the history of objects/read memories

Dreamwalking: She can enter into other people's dreams and manipulate them.

Mooncycles: Thalia is capable of affecting the cycles of the moon, creating eclipses, full moons, new moons, etc for various purposes, such as when needing to weaken a full-moon powered being, or requiring to summon something that needs the specific cycle of the moon to be present. (This is more of an illusion than her literally moving the moon, but the effect is the same)

Elemental control: The elements at her disposal include wind, light and shadows. She is most adept at using wind for telekinesis purposes, light for using banishing spells, and shadows for trapping things

Moonlight mesmerizing: She can essentially hypnotize and command beings connected to the moon/being powered by it, such as werewolves or moonfairies.

Weaknesses:

She's not the most social outside work, and tends to come off intimidating even when she doesn't mean to. (MORE TBA)

Personality:

Thalia is fairly serious, no-nonsense person who takes her job very seriously. Despite seemingly getting easily irritated by everyone's shenanigans around her, she is actually quite fond of them, and would never change their chaotic nature for anything.

She is intelligent and very scholarly, meaning she enjoys diving deep into topics she is interested in and learning more about them, and really despises it when people spread false information or make it clear they don't know what they are talking about. She actually really enjoys teaching, but tends to not get to do it too often given her job, so if she is allowed to tell someone about a subject she is knowledgeable of, she can get very into it.

Thalia is actually a fairly good teacher and keeps people's attention easily, but due to knowing people find her a bit difficult to approach and "cold" she doesn't often realize this and feels like she's not that good at it. (She is also well liked by kids, because while she seems stern, she is very fair and actually listens and engages kids in a manner that doesn't make them feel like their thoughts are stupid)

BG Story Summary

Nobody in the current Blackthorne/Araknos family knows when exactly she showed up, Harrow's parents never really elaborated on it much (because he didn't ask) but all Harrow can tell, is that she's always had the grayish silver hair, it is either natural color thanks to her lunar-based powers, she's already of older age, or the color was natural through other means. (Thalia never elaborates on this)

She is a very mysterious woman in other words, and sometimes there are questions whenever she is just another Sorceress, or something else....

Fun Facts:

The little bits she has told her past includes: she used to have blond hair, helped banish a bloodthirsty lost soul who was causing havoc in a town somewhere, and the black journal she carries used to belong to this spirit (These are references to her old story I had for her)

She has never expressed any sort of romantic or physical interest towards anyone as far as Harrow remembers, so he suspects she is Aro-Ace. Shen never really confirms or denies this

Her style outside of work is a mixture of vintage/retro glamour and business casual

She does have a sorceress form, but Harrow has only seen it once as a child, and can barely remember it.

When Harrow's family was attacked, Thalia wasn't there because she was staying in the human world manor; they'd given her a vacation, but she'd preferred to just stay in the manor and just relax for a moment instead of bossing around staff. (Typically at least the nonhuman staff would go with the family to the mirror realm)

She does feel guilty over not being there, believing she perhaps could've saved them and prevented the whole massacre from taking place. As a result she is even more strict about security in the manor nowadays.

#artists on tumblr #oc illustration #oc info #oc reference #character design #butler #lumi's chaotic creations #lumi's art scribbles #Night city parlor #Thalia Swanson #The mage and the mobster #Blackthorne mansion

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sometimesraven · 1 year ago

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A Deep Bruise You Can't See

Whumptober No. 3: “Like crying out in empty rooms; with no-one there except the moon.” Journal |

Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisiton POV Character: Female Lavellan Whumpee: Lavellan

Now that she can no longer rely on Solas to save her from her nightmares, Lavellan is having to find alternative, healthier methods to cope with the PTSD she received from her time as Inquisitor.

AO3 Link

The sensation of falling. Stone and snow and debris raining down like the sky was collapsing in on her. Radiating pain as the ground rose to meet her; cuts and bruises and fractured bones so sudden she could barely pinpoint where they were through the pain.

Limping across endless frozen ground. Only cold, empty remains of campfires to guide her. Unless it was the same fire? Only the Gods knew at this point. The chill was so deep in her bones that it numbed the pain of her struggling limbs as they trembled and dragged. Still no sign of her fellows. Of anyone.

Exhaustion settling in her chest. Only the snow and moonlight illuminated the darkness around her. This was it. She would never find her way. The darkness would swallow her and she would remain as bones in the mountains; lost for eternity.

Cold sweat coated Miriel's forehead as she slowly awoke, the fear and cold chasing her into the waking world like it was clinging with clawed hands to her shoulders. She groaned, disoriented -- her heart beat like war drums in her ears, body still trembling; the comfort and warmth of her bedclothes following sluggishly behind the ghostly sensations of her dream.

Automatically, she reached out beside her. Her hand rested only on empty space, disappointment squeezing her chest tight enough to steal her breath as she realised nobody was there. Nobody would ever be there again. No dreamwalking ancient elf would pull her from her nightmares and into his arms. She was alone with her memories and the demons that haunted her sleep.

So, with a groan, she wiped the sweat from her scarred face and pushed herself out of bed. Padding groggily to her nightstand, the cool satin of her chair pillow against her bare buttocks provided the grounding sensation she came to rely upon as she sat and opened her journal.

"Haven again," she spoke aloud, part of the routine she developed for pulling her mind out of the dream entirely. She focused on the scratch of her quill on the page as she continued. "I can scarcely understand the purpose of these dreams. Given perspective, Haven's loss was the least of the terrors I experienced as the unwilling leader of this Inquisition. Perhaps it is the loneliness. That was, after all, the last time I felt truly alone until now. I know I should not think of him, gentle spirit of my page. I know he is long gone. But his absence haunts my every moment. I foolishly came to rely upon him to save me from my own mind. What now do I do when the demons come? How am I to survive the torment of my own history, knowing the weight of my ancestors' fate now lies within me also?"

Lavellan fell silent, reading and re-reading her own words as she always did, until an answer fell upon her mind -- the answers she had come to believe came from the page itself, no matter how false a children's tale that was. At the bottom of the page, she silently scratched five extra words.

One Day At A Time.

#whumptober2023 #no.3 #“like crying out in empty rooms; with no-one there except the moon.”#journal #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #dai #fic #nightmares #ptsd #lavellan #inquisitor lavellan #solavellan #post game #fanfiction #mine #writing

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saturn-saturniidae · 2 years ago

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Hi!!! I just got into Wings of Fire, so I'm new here. I'm really loving your blog (especially your Pantalan headcanons, I take it the HiveWings are your favorite tribe?)

Do you have any OCs you mind sharing?

tysm!! yeah, i love those funky bug dragons.

i'm not much of an oc person, but i do have several for a project i'm working on! i don't have designs for them yet, but i'll share some of my favorites.

the first one is polaris! she's an ice/night hybrid, and a seer. their parents both ran away from their respective kingdoms, so she was born under the moons. they struggle with her tribe identity. generally very quiet, but can talk for hours to their friends. she's a great planner and strategist, and they like painting! they're 4 yo.

another one is aphid! she's a hivewing; her parents moved to pyrrhia after arc three, from jewel hive. aphid also struggles with her tribe. she can come off as cold, but she's really just nervous. likes cooking and baking! she's 4 yo.

last one for now is dreamwalker! they're a nightwing. he's a bit spacey and daydreams often, but he's always quick to defend and help their friends. they like writing and journalism! he's 4 yo.

lmk if you want to hear about the rest of the cast! (and also the project they're for lmao)

#wof #wings of fire #wof oc #wof ocs #wings of fire oc #nightwings #icewings #hivewings #saturn talks

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manticore239 · 20 days ago

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Official Notice: The Emergence of the Dreamwalker Conflict

To All Civilians:

It has come to our attention that an anomalous event has begun to manifest across various levels of consciousness, affecting both waking life and the realm of dreams. This occurrence, which we have tentatively named The Dreamwalker Conflict, involves a struggle between forces operating beyond the bounds of typical human awareness. The nature of this conflict transcends conventional understanding of the mind, reality, and the self.

Nature of the Conflict:

The Dreamwalker Conflict is not a battle fought in physical space, but rather in the liminal, subconscious realms where consciousness and unconsciousness intersect. Entities from this realm, such as the "Dreamwalker," have become self-aware and have begun to influence and alter the balance between the conscious mind and the primal forces that lie beneath it. This has led to disturbances in the dream world, where unconscious shadows (representing fragmented, unintegrated aspects of the self) are being challenged, absorbed, or eradicated by these emergent forces.

Key Forces:

The Dreamwalker – An evolving entity, independent of the dreamer’s own psyche, which has gained awareness and is actively navigating the realm of dreams. This being is capable of interacting with both the dream world and potentially the waking world, creating disturbances when its actions breach the boundary between these spaces.

The Shadows – These are fragmented aspects of the unconscious mind, often incomplete or inchoate. Some of these shadows are benign, others aggressive, but all are being influenced or eliminated by the actions of the Dreamwalker. These shadows represent the suppressed, denied, or undeveloped aspects of the self, often manifesting as formless, half-realized beings in the dreamscape.

Stakes at Play:

The Dreamwalker Conflict represents a battle for control over the individual's awareness and sense of self. The Dreamwalker’s actions threaten to upend the existing order of the unconscious, risking a complete reorganization of personal identity and perception. If left unchecked, this conflict could lead to heightened psychological fragmentation, disorientation, and existential disruption for those involved. The merging of the dream and waking states may lead to increasingly vivid and intrusive experiences, blurring the line between what is real and what is imagined.

In the broader sense, the Dreamwalker Conflict could signify an impending shift in collective consciousness, where old psychological constructs are being challenged, leading to a reconfiguration of self-understanding for humanity as a whole.

Caution and Safety Measures:

Given the unpredictable nature of the Dreamwalker Conflict, we urge all civilians to exercise caution and adopt the following practical safety measures:

Mindfulness Practices – Engage in regular mindfulness exercises to stay grounded in the present moment. Developing a strong connection to reality will help prevent confusion between dream and waking states.

Sleep Hygiene – Establish a healthy sleep routine, avoiding excessive stimulation or emotional turmoil before rest. This will minimize the risk of unwanted dream disturbances.

Protective Visualization – Prior to sleep, visualize protective barriers around your consciousness, focusing on the integrity of your self-awareness. This may help to maintain separation between the waking world and the dream realm.

Dream Journaling – Keep a journal of your dreams to track any unusual or recurring patterns. Documenting these experiences can provide valuable insight into the ongoing conflict and help you maintain clarity about what is occurring.

Avoidance of Destructive Forces – If you experience visions or entities that seem dangerous, threatening, or overly invasive, mentally disengage from them and focus on maintaining emotional distance. These forces may attempt to draw you into their conflict, but disengagement is key.

Seek Support – If you begin experiencing persistent disturbances or fear for your psychological well-being, consider speaking to a trusted individual or mental health professional. A grounded support system can help navigate these unsettling experiences.

We advise everyone to remain vigilant. The Dreamwalker Conflict is a phenomenon that may alter your perception of reality, but with caution and awareness, you can maintain control over your own mind and experience.

Stay safe, stay grounded, and remember that your awareness is your greatest protector.

Sincerely, The Bureau of Unconscious Phenomena - 🪶

Eyewitness Account of Metaphysical "Conflict"

(This entry stands out among the rest, both in length and detail. It shows remarkably few errors, considering it is written in ink.)

January 21, 2025

I can still feel the lingering tremor in my bones as I write this. I’m shaking so badly that my hand is slipping across the page. It was real—so real—though it wasn’t. But it felt real.

It started—no, it shifted—while I was still dreaming, but then—then something woke up. I woke up within the dream. It was sudden. Like a slap in the face, but more subtle, somehow, like I had been startled awake in the middle of a conversation I didn’t even know I was having.

I was standing there, in this strange space, and I looked up—looked directly into those eyes. Cold. Unyielding. Like a wolf’s, sharp and calculating, but underneath that... calm. Stillness. Like the eye of a storm, the stillness before everything crashes. I froze, breath caught in my throat. The air felt thick, heavy, like it was holding its breath too. It was watching me. Not just glancing, but watching. And it wasn’t just my reflection, like I had once thought of all these shadows around me. No. This was different.

I don’t know how to explain it. The other shadows—they’re like... They’re like the background of my mind. They’re just there, shapeless, vague, waiting for attention. But this one? This one was alive. It was more. And it knew I was there. More than that, it knew me. And its gaze—it felt... predatory. Like it was waiting for me to move, to give it a reason to act.

I tried to look away. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t tear my eyes off of it, because it didn’t let me. It wasn’t just a dream now. This was something else. Something more. My skin crawled. I could feel it. Feel the weight of its presence in my chest, sinking down into my stomach. It wasn’t just a part of me. It wasn’t a shadow from my unconscious.

It knew. It was real.

Then—it moved. It wasn’t a slow crawl, like something creeping up behind you. It was a sudden shift, like a flash of lightning. I saw it—saw its form suddenly split the smoke that surrounded us. The air seemed to crackle. There was a glint. A sword. A katana. It was holding it. I couldn’t blink—I couldn’t look away. And then—then it was close to something else. No, to someone else.

There was another shadow. One that had been hidden. It was just a blur at first, but then—then I saw it clearly. A humanoid shape, but... incomplete. It was nothing but jagged edges and wisps of dark, floating air. That’s when I realized it had been there all along. And then—the katana—it skewered it. Right through its chest. I saw the shock. The twisting, the agony as the blade went through. It was... it was too much. I could feel it. Every inch of that blade sinking into that shadow. And I—I was there with it. Watching. Frozen.

I woke up right after that, gasping, drenched in sweat, my heart pounding like I had been running. But I can’t shake it. I can’t shake the feeling that it’s still here. Watching. And worse, what if it’s awake now too? What if the dream isn’t over? I look around at everything around me, but the fear—it's crawling in my chest, scratching at my insides. The people around me, they’re too... still. Too unaware.

I keep thinking—what if it’s with me right now?

God, I’m scared. I’m terrified. It’s like a shadow that doesn’t belong. It doesn’t feel like a part of me. It feels like it’s outside of me. And if it’s here now... where is it?

I don’t know what to do.

#dream journal #dream walking #shared dream #self awareness #lucid dreaming #manticore #paranormal #nightmare #oneironaut #fuck the patriarchy #end misogyny #inception fanfic #shadow work #dream demon #anti hero #interdimensional #vigilante #Noah's Flood

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artyandink · 1 year ago

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we could be more | dean winchester | 5

SERIES MASTERLIST

A/N - My first OG episode, so enjoy!

DEAD MEN CAN’T SCREAM

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : CAN’T CATCH ME NOW - OLIVIA RODRIGO

“XAVIER NICHOLAS JACKSON!” I yelled. Xavier shrieked, jumping six feet into the air.

“Here we go.” Sam muttered.

“She used his middle name.” Dean smirked.

I picked up a pointer stick, slapping it on the sign. “SHOES OFF!”

“Damn, fine!” Xavier hurriedly took off his shoes. I walked up to him, then smiled sweetly.

“Thanks, love.” I gave him a kiss, leaving him dumbfounded.

”Welcome to our world, soldier.” Dean chuckled.

”Tough world.” Sam snorted.

“So, Sammy, got any new cases?”

“There’s one, and I think Ivy will be interested.” He placed the paper down. “String of murders here, all done by different people with no connection. However, once the murderers were caught, they turned out to be sleeping.”

“Manner of death?” I asked, rushing over and taking the paper.

“A knife.” Sam frowned. “In the jugular.”

“Map it out.” I ordered, gritting my teeth. It was like a switch flipped in my brain. “I don’t care how we do it, we’re finding this dreamwalker.” Sam mapped out the killings, and I took a quick look.

“Looks like nothing to me.” Dean shrugged.

“This is Morse code.” I got out a sheet of paper, writing it out. “You… can… run… Ivy. It’s coming back. For me.”

“T-To finish you off?” Sam stammered, leaning forward.

“Seems like it.” I exhaled. “It’s taunting me. Telling me to run. I’m guessing that the next killings will spell out ‘but you can’t hide’.”

“So we find out where. Find out how to kill this thing.” Dean resolved, placing his hand on the map.

“How many sleeping people will we rifle through before we find this thing?” Sam scoffed. “We can’t barge into every home on a street and find out who’s sleeping, we’re going to have to try and track a person down, but even that’s impossible.”

“That also means we can’t sleep.” I sighed.

“What?” Xavier folded his arms.

“That dreamwalker is coming for me. It could possess any one of us and the only thing it needs is for us to take a nap. After that, knives galore.”

“Why knives?”

“A murderer’s principle of extravagance. Or, a more plausible one, the ability to get the holder caught cause the dreamwalker isn’t gonna put on gloves before going psycho.”

“And the, uh, neck bit?” Dean asked, pointing to his jugular.

“There’s an ancient saying in dreamwalker lore everywhere.” I clicked my tongue. “‘Dead men can’t scream.’. The whole point to stab someone’s neck is to silence them. Their screams, their words, thoughts, everything. Cause if you take out part of the airway, you take them out.”

“How are we gonna find out where it strikes next? Cause so far, the only thing we have is what it is and who it’s after.”

“I don’t think so.” I drew an arrow from the first killing to the last. “Point A to B. We’re here,” I circled a place on the map, “and all the killings are making its way to us. It’s like it’s been tracking me.”

“This is a change.” Sam chuckled. “We’re the ones being hunted this time.”

“It’s not gonna be pretty, Sam.” I sighed. “Wherever we’re going, a trail of dead bodies are gonna follow.”

”That’s not particularly ideal.”

”Didn’t seem like it.” I loaded my gun, exhaling. “Well, we know what has to happen. You guys need to get far away from here, and I’ll deal with the ‘walker.”

“No. No way.” Dean refused almost immediately.

“We’re not leaving you.” Xavier agreed.

“It’s not like I’m giving you a choice.” I retorted. “Get in your cars. Go.”

“You almost got skinned last time you came into contact with that thing.” Sam frowned. “How do you expect to survive this time?”

“I have books, lore on how to deal with something like this. If someone summoned it, I send it back to hell. If not, a destroying ritual will do the trick.”

Dean scoffed. “You need backup-“

“I need space, Dean.” I started sharpening my knives harshly. “You stay close and you might end up with a knife in you.”

“And if we turn our backs, you could be on the receiving end.” Xavier argued.

“I know, but if I die, it stops the cycle.”

”You don’t know that.” Sam frowned.

“Fine.” I gave up, folding the map. “We can all set off at sunrise. Just draw a protective rune with holy water on you before you sleep.”

However, I had other plans. I waited until the boys were asleep before gathering Sam’s research, stuffing it into my satchel before I grabbed my copy of the house keys, unlocking the door and leaving. I’d decided that the first place to go was the house where it all started, so I could figure out where it went. I ended up in Madison, New Jersey.

“Can I help you, miss?” A local asked. He was old, and I recognised him.

“Arthur Paisley?” I grinned.

“Who’s askin’?” He retorted gruffly.

“It’s Ivonne. Rainer?”

”Ivy, dear girl!” He broke out into a toothy smile. “Welcome back. Let me take you for a drink.” We ambled towards the bar, talking. “So, where have you been all these years?”

”On a road trip. I found some family friends and went with ‘em.”

“The Winchesters, right?” He nodded. “Such a shame what happened to ya family. Little Carter…”

I breathed out shakily, managing a smile. “Yeah. He didn’t deserve that.”

“You did what you had to, girlie.”

“I could’ve done something else.” We entered the bar, which was eerily empty.

“But you did the first thing that came to your mind.” He vouched. “Lucky that gun was still on your father’s bedside table.”

I stopped, turning around slowly as my hand slowly went to my gun. “Hold on. How did you know that it was a gun? Carter’s manner of death was kept private by the police. And nobody knew that I was with Sam and Dean.”

“You’re famous around town, here, girl-“

“Cut it.” I snapped, taking my gun out. “And let Mr Paisley go.”

“Ok.” He smirked. “But I’ll find you again. I need to finish my job off with you.”

“Good luck.” I scoffed, flicking down the safety pin. Then the darkness disappeared from Paisley’s eyes, and I caught him before he fell, setting him down on a comfy chair before running off. The moment I was sure I wasn’t being followed, I got into my car, dialling Ellen and driving off.

‘Hey, sweetie. Are Sam and Dean with you?’ Ellen greeted.

“Hey, El. And, uh, no. Just wanted to run a few names by you. There’s more, but I’ll give you a few.”

’Shoot.”

”Edward Sarkis, Pete Barnes, Vincent Wylie, Harry Terman, Lloyd Cole, Mark James…?”

‘I know the names. All seasoned hunters, with a wife and kids. None would stop comparing baby photos.’

”They’re dead, Ellen. I gulped. “Killed like Dad. Then their family was found with a knife in their throat the day after. The one who was blamed was the oldest kid of the family, and they’re all now in a mental asylum.”

‘You don’t think that it’s the same thing that killed your parents, do you?’

”I know it is. The killings spell out ‘you can run, Ivy’ in Morse. I need Ash to help and find a way to kill it.”

’I’ll get him on it. What am I supposed to tell the boys?’

”Nothing.” I frowned. “If they come knocking or calling, you can’t tell them where I am.”

’Ivy, you know I can’t do that.’

”Ellen.” I begged. “Just do this for me, please.”

Pause.

’Fine. But you better live.’

“I’ll try.” I shifted gears. “Can you find out a hunter who lives close to the last murder site?”

“Yeah. His name’s Xavier Jackson.” My heart dropped out of my chest as I turned the car around, flooring it.

“XAVIER!” I screamed, bursting into my house, but the boys were gone. “Oh my god-“ I got a phone call, and I picked up seeing Xavier’s calling ID. “Zay, where are you?”

‘A warehouse south from your house.’ I heard on the other end of the line. ‘I told you that you could run, Ivy, but I’d find you. Xavier seems like such a good guy. Why waste this opportunity to save your boyfriend?’

“Let him-“

‘I know why.’ He chuckled. ‘Because I’ve got your precious boys here with me.’

‘Don’t come here, Ivy!’ Dean ordered. ‘I swear, if you do-‘

“Dean-“

‘Ivy, please.” Sam begged. ‘Whatever you do, don’t come-’

‘See, Ivy, I don’t think you can listen to them.’ Xavier took back the phone. ‘Because you are going to come here. You’re going to come alone, and you’re gonna give yourself up. And I don’t think you can raise your gun again because to kill me you have to shoot your boyfriend. Just like you did Carter.’

“I’m gonna kill you.” I growled. “I swear to god, I will do it.”

‘I’d like to see you try. You’ll find me, but get here by sundown. If not for me, do it for Carter.’

“Carter.” I whispered, getting back in my car. I fought off tears, putting the pedal to the metal as I sped off, but carefully not exceeding the speeding limit. I hit the wheel, my teeth gritted. “DAMN IT!” I knew which warehouse Xavier was talking about. There was an abandoned one south of my house here. Nobody cared about it. Nobody thought there was anyone in there, but right now, there were three captive men and one monster. I pulled up at the warehouse, taking a gun out of a compartment under my seat, loading it and getting out, kicking down the door to the warehouse and holding my gun up.

“Don’t move.” Xavier had a knife held aloft, holding Sam’s head back by his hair. Dean was bound, his head hanging down with his eyes half open. “Put the gun down, Rainer. Come on, do a favour for your boyfriend.”

“Zay, I know you’re in there-“

“Put the gun down.” He pulled Sam’s head back further, so I put my gun down, holding my hands out.

“You got what you wanted, now let him go.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Fine, then take me.”

“Ivy, no…“ Sam muttered, his eyes barely open.

“What have you done to them?” I gasped, my fist clenching.

“Relax, it’s just a sedative.” Xavier smirked. “It’s not hurt them, just kept them incapacitated.”

“You’re sick.”

“None of this would have happened if you had just given yourself up. The cycle would stop. I’d leave and never bother anyone again. I was always after you, Ivy, little Carter didn’t need to die.”

“Wh-What do you mean?”

“Your anger was powerful to latch on to, but that night you just wouldn’t sleep. But Carter was asleep in the room opposite. I felt his pain, his animosity towards his older sister and, well, I just had to take the opportunity. But, as you can see, my revenge isn’t complete.”

I was breathing heavily, my body feeling like it was on fire as red hot rage boiled up in me faster than a bullet could travel from point A to B. “I’M GONNA KILL YOU!” We rushed at each other, and I knocked the knife out of Xavier’s hand, ending up a metre from Sam. I elbowed Xavier in the face, punching him so hard that he fell on the floor. I climbed on top of him, punching him over and over, watching blood run down his cheek as heavy breaths escaped my mouth. I pulled out my gun, holding it to his head. I had prepared a replica, which was the one I’d surrendered before.

“Is this what this was about the whole time?!” I shouted, my hand shaking while my finger tightened on the trigger. “You wanted me to take the blame? Why didn’t you do it? My brother was fifteen, fifteen, but you marked him for death.”

“It’s no one’s fault but yours, Ivonne.” He smirked. “Had you taken care of your family, he’d still be here. Now your two friends are next.” I was pushed off, and Xavier scurried to the knife, picking it up and holding it to Sam’s throat. “Dead men can’t scream-“

BANG.

A cloud of black smoke escaped Xavier just as the bullets pierced his body, his eyes turning from dark blue to their usual light blue. He swayed, looking down at the two holes in his chest before he collapsed. Sam regained his strength and managed to cut himself and Dean, who was still half-asleep, loose while I rushed to Xavier’s side, holding his face in my hands. What had I done? What had I…

“Zay, please, no.” I sobbed. “We’ll get you an ambulance, anything, just don’t leave me.” I kissed his forehead, smoothing his hair back. “I’m so sorry.” It felt like my heart was breaking all over again, like I was out of control again. I hated it, but I couldn’t escape it. But the dreamwalker escaped… and I wasn’t quick enough.

“It’s ok.” He smiled weakly, reaching up to tuck my hair behind my ear. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“It was.” I sobbed, shaking my head. “You could have broken free-“

”It was too strong.” He whispered. “I love you so much, Ivy. But I wish we had more time.”

“Don’t say that, don’t say…” He gently brought me down to kiss him, but halfway through, his hold on me loosened and I felt his arm fall onto the floor, going cold. I sat back up, the bitter truth hitting me.

Xavier was dead, and it was my fault.

I screamed, the sound falling deaf on my ears as Sam wrapped his arms around my midsection, trying to pull me away.

“Ivy!” Sam yelled, but it sounded muffled. Like I’d shut everything out. “Ivy, we can’t help him! We need to go!” I went limp against him, crying my eyes out as the image of the dead body flickered between Carter’s and Xavier’s, lifeless and cold, with the same expression of terror. Please, not again. Not again.

“Yeah, you can’t help him.” Dean smirked, walking casually towards the body. “Another body, Ivy, what a shame. People just seem to be… dropping like flies around you.” The dreamwalker had possessed him, and both Sam and I took out our guns. My hands shook as I pointed my barrel at his forehead; please don’t make me shoot Dean. Not him. “Relax, this is only gonna be for a bit. You’ve only gotten away this time, Rainer. I’m going to complete my revenge someday.”

“What revenge?”

“I used to be a vampire.” Dean snarled. “But then my heart was carved out by none other than a gang of hunters, one of them happening to be Michael Rainer. I couldn’t resist it. I went after his family, and I found you, the strongest of the lot that was left. He trained you as well, so why can’t I put that to good use? However, you just couldn’t let me possess you. So Carter was a perfectly acceptable second choice.”

“Get out of my brother.” Sam snarled.

“As you wish.” The darkness left Dean’s eyes, and he immediately gasped, recovered and hugged me tightly, Sam joining in. I shook violently, tears still silently streaming down my face as my eyes landed on Xavier’s body in the middle of the empty space.

”Xavier had gone insane.” I lied, later on, shaking as I sat down in the interrogation room in a police precinct. “I went to visit my old family house in New Jersey when I got the call that Xavier had kidnapped my friends and he needed me to come and save them. We fought, and he had a gun on him, which I stole. I shot when he was about to murder Sam, and then I untied them.”

“Story matches up.” The policeman nodded. “And injuries suggest the same. I don’t think we can press charges. You shot in self defence, and you stopped a kidnapping. Why you didn’t call us, I don’t know, but you did a good job.”

“Can I leave, officer?’ I asked.

“Yeah, I don’t see a reason to keep you.” I left the office, meeting Sam and Dean outside. Dean took me into a hug, kissing my hair.

“We can take a break from hunting, if it makes you feel better.” Sam whispered, hugging me once Dean released me.

“No.” I shook my head. “I need a distraction.”

I decided to go on a drive alone, ignoring the fact that Xavier had just died. It was how I dealt with Carter and my family, so it didn’t seem much different. Just numb, like I’d forgone emotions entirely. So, yeah, repetitive.

Apart from how people seemed to die around me.

I got a phone call, seeing that Sam was the caller ID. I picked it up. “Hey, Sammy. What’s up?”

’Look to your right.’ I looked to my right, which had a long abandoned runway on it. There, at the top, was a figure that looked like Dean, tied to a chair yet again. ‘I’ve got him. And I’m gonna ram a car into him, unless you come over here.’

“Are you ever going to leave me alone?”

‘No, I don’t think I will.’ Just as I was about to floor it, a bullet grazed my head, lodging into my seat. I immediately floored it, wincing at the blood running down my head as I turned the car sharply.

“Did you send that bullet?”

‘No, I’m in a car.’

“This is the worst way to die.” Dean groaned, struggling against his bonds. "Beanie, if you save me, I will personally get you your favourite coffee every day.”

“Any last words?!” Sam yelled from the car, and Dean thought.

“You’re a twat!” He yelled back. “That’s right, I used British insults!”

The car started, headlights on as it revved, driving up towards where Dean was. He looked away, a feeble attempt to brace for impact. Sam determinedly pressed the pedal harder, ready to ram right into Dean-

I drove my car straight into the side of the one Sam was in, glass cracking and flying across my face as dust dirtied my face, the impact knocking the wind out of me and my head against the wheel. The world spun around me as I gasped to get some air, but my head felt heavy. I rested my head on my arms, passing out almost immediately.

Sam stumbled out of the car, the darkness gone from his eyes. He stared at Dean, and then himself, realising that he was barely injured.

“What happened?” Sam panted, checking himself.

“You almost killed me!” Dean yelled. “Get me my pocketknife from my jeans and then go get Beanie out of the car. She almost killed herself trying to stop you.” Sam gave him his pocketknife then sprinted over to the Corvette, yanking open the door and picking me up bridal style, turning to Dean.

“She’s not awake!” He called, and Dean ran over, grabbing a water bottle from my car and taking some water in his hand, flicking it over my face.

“C’mon, Ivy.” Dean whispered, checking for my heartbeat and breathing. “She’s alive, so that’s good.”

“We need to get her to the hospital.”

”She’s not got any major injuries.” The doctor explained to Sam and Dean, who were outside the ward. “Just a few cuts and grazes, and her hand took a bit of a sprain. We’ve cleaned and bandages those, and she’s awake now and almost out of shock. You two can see her.”

They speed-walked into my ward just as I was sitting up, my hand kept aloft and bandaged. As soon as I saw the boys, I grinned as they sat down and started showering my head with kisses.

“Thank god you’re ok.” Sam whispered, burying his face into my shoulder. Dean cupped my cheek, rubbing circles with his thumb.

“I…” Dean paused, “I am never letting you out of my sight again. You almost died. Again.”

“I told you, I’m only dying by a knife to the jugular.” I joked, sipping some water. “How long have I been out?”

“A day.” Sam smiled.

“So, ready for another hunt?”

“How does she not remember but we do?”

“I don’t know, Sammy.” Dean smirked.

“Am I missing something here?” I asked.

They both pulled out a cake, grinning. “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”

But I'm in the trees, I'm in the breeze My footsteps on the ground You'll see my face in every place But you can't catch me now Through wading grass, the months will pass You'll feel it all around I'm here, I'm there, I'm everywhere But you can't catch me now No, you can't catch me now

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#dean x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #sam and dean #ivonne rainer #supernatural #spn masterlist #spn #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester x oc #dean winchester x you #sam winchester

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nightshadesweb2 · 8 years ago

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Dreamwalk Journal, page 206.

Tune in tomorrow for some bonus art, and don’t forget that the stories of Cyeatea are continuing on the Nightshade the Merry Widow blog.

Well, there it is, from October 2007, the very last page of Dreamwalk Journal. Quite a nice scene on which to finish. This is the original design for the Outpost, and although the later design is more sophisticated, the original looks a very friendly and inviting place... which it is.

What we know of Danny and Fleur’s travels from this point on is that they experienced many more remarkable adventures before finally being rediscovered in the Redlip ants’ village.Some day those adventures may be told, but for now... Good Hunting!

#Dreamwalk Journal #Ed Kline #Kishma Danielle #webcomic #anthropomorphic #furry #arthropod #insect #arachnid #spider #vegetation #jungle #atmosphere #mist #lights #tree #branch #outpost #way station

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loreofeli · 5 years ago

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Dreamwalking from Sleep Paralysis

Dreamwalking attempt number one was a failure, but I shall record my efforts nonetheless. Viewer discretion is advised.

I did my due diligence to ensure I’d end up in sleep paralysis at some point during the night. That part at least was successful. Initially I forgot about my desire to utilize SP as a starting point for Dreamwalking. I was lying paralyzed in the woods where I had just been dreaming. My red light that I keep beside my bed in waking life was on, and an eerie voice was narrating an HP Lovecraft story. I remember him mentioning Lilith at one point.

I was extremely creeped out beyond normal rationality and immediately tried to wake myself up. It took a bit of effort, but I eventually succeeded. However, I immediately realized my mistake. “I’m NOT supposed to wake myself up,” I remembered. I hadn’t moved yet, so I just kept still and let the paralysis wash over me once more.

This time, despite the lingering fear, I was determined. I dutifully used laughter as a way to banish the fear and any hidden things that might be waiting in the void to feed off it. I began focusing on the person whose dream I wanted to enter. I started singing her name to keep my intent focused. With this, I felt myself begin sliding through the dark void of sleep paralysis, pulled along by my desire to succeed.

Suddenly I was once again caught between sleep paralysis and a dream. The sliding sensation translated to me lying prone on a hospital gurney being pushed into an operating room surrounded by creepy looking doctors and mounds of random, fleshy body parts. Oh god... maybe this is what she’s dreaming about...? But I doubt it. This nightmare seems meant for me.

Still trapped on the gurney in sleep paralysis, I could do little but converse with the demented surgeons. They were planning to do all kinds of horrible operations on me. Since I couldn’t move at all, there were only a few ways out of this mess. I went with a tried and true classic: I instigated them, mocking them, drawing their minds away from insane operations and down a much more... sensual avenue of thought. It worked. While not exactly pleasant, it was in fact better than dealing with having my limbs amputated or my organs harvested, so no real complaints here. What they did to me also caused me to have a false awakening and put a swift end to my experiment.

#dreamwalking #sleep paralysis #witchblr #pagan #witchcraft #lilith #dream magic #dream journal #body horror #rape mention

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medkitmedic · 6 years ago

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dream journal entry 02: « NANCY HOLBROOK »

NANCY HOLBROOK IS QUENTIN'S BEST FRIEND AND CHILDHOOD CRUSH. They dated momentarily after the events of the 2010 A Nightmare on Elm Street, but after a year, they started getting familiar night terrors and had to put their relationship on hold. When Freddy began to make his resurgence back into the dreams of Quentin and Nancy, he made a promise to protect her. The last thing he wanted was for her to be all alone again, especially with the loss of her mother.

The night before Quentin knew he was reaching his limit of being awake, he told Nancy everything about him. From the tiniest detail to the largest story, he let himself unfold. This was because, in his words, he "didn't want to be forgotten". Nancy was all he had, the only one who believed him and the one he wished to take care of. So, in order to make sure she was never lonely again, he gave her every bit of information about himself. As if he would always be there.

Nancy was the last person who Quentin spoke to before disappearing into the Entity's realm. Every night, in the realm, Quentin tries to see if he can make his way into Nancy's dreams, but has yet to succeed. Sometimes he looks at the palms of his hands to remember when the two of them would compare the length of their fingers, wishing he could go back to those days.

However, Nancy is also the reason why he refuses to go home. Quentin fears that, if he returns to Elm Street, Freddy will find a way to follow him and hurt Nancy. Ever determined to keep the dream demon locked away, he knows that if he gets the chance, Quentin wouldn't leave the Entity's realm. Nancy means more than life and death to him, and he refuses to give her up for anything.

#{ if you believe in the world of dreams i can tell you what i see; dream journals }#{ lucid dreams at midnight; ooc }#{ sleep sweet dreamwalker; musings }#/. WHO WANTS SOME HEADCANONS #/. nobody? just me?#/. oh okay

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brb-on-a-quest · 8 months ago

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(those are some really cool titles omg)

I hop around in a bunch of different areas of my google docs and most of them are (ok pretty much all of them are) not officially titled because I can't do names or conclusions lmao. BUT that being said feel free to haunt my tumblr mailbox

A Modern Pilgrim's Guide to Hell

Dreamwalker + associated headcannons

Untitled Superhero Fantasy Thing (this has a lot of subdocuments like "This sparks joy *add in later*" and "This does not spark joy, leave out for now"

Batdoc Brainrot

Timeloop shenanigans

ad astra

"the problems of being a writer"

We have my Doctor Who Folder with documents like "Captain Jack section" "Doc bday" "does god exist" "I speaks teen" "random headcannons" and two "untitled documents" (one of which I think has riversong stuff but not sure

We have "Dystopian thing?" <- sums it up

we do have a poetry folder. I will never post anything from this.

Shadow stuffs (not really a WIP. Kind of. I published it? well sent it to someone to put a cover on it to give to friends and me. Do I regret that decision? nah. Haven't looked at it since then because my own writing from back then gives me psychic damage). It's more of like a world I used to exist in and grew out of yk?

Princess and the Hellhound

holy crap I forgot I tried journaling on google drive.

Actually I'm going to group my drafts from like middleschool/highschool folder as "things that I liked but never really got fleshed out but may have played parts in other of the other docs"

WIP Tag List Game (￢‿￢ )

I was tagged by @absolutewritingfreak, go check them out if you have a minute!

Rules: Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Okay, so I don't actually have a WIP folder, but I have a fanfiction folder with some WIPs and some books I'm working on/have stuck in my head and am doing absolutely no work on yet. Here goes!

Books:

A Reluctant Adventure to a Land of Dragons

Three Immortals vs A Ghost Rebellion

Neuro-blocked

Fanfictions:

Doctor Who - Emotional Void

Goes Wrong - Superpower AU

Merlin - Pointy Hat

Not Going Out - Catch Me When I Fall

Superstore - Greater of Two Evils

Please, please, please send me asks about any of these, you'll make my day!!!!

Okay, people to tag: @goodluckclove (who already knows all about ARATALOD), @aloeverawrites, @6vaguebook, @izzylovesyou2022, @ace-writer-lani, @inmortalwritingsoul, @bookish-karina, and @rkmoon. Feel free to participate if you want, feel free to ignore this completely if you don't, and always be happy and stay safe.

Love y'all!!!

#feel free to ask about any of these #except maybe the journal #I can try but may have to edit if I get too much personal information yk #but god i was so dramatic #for refence it's called "book of <myrealname> cuz i thought that was cool #which it is #but also i laugh yk #brb-rambles #brb-backstory

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fishdavidson · 6 years ago

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Dream Journal 2018-12-18: In Which Fish Davidson Attempts To Convince Some Of His Friends That He Totally Knows What He Is Doing And Can Legitimately Enter People’s Dreams Like In Inception

But first, a word from sponsor-- I mean the

Dream Fragments

My wife and I attend this fancy party in fancy eveningwear and Amy Santiago from Brooklyn Nine-Nine is there in a ballgown. The party clears out and somehow it’s just the three of us and things rapidly escalate into (wife-approved) naked time. Amy applies some lotion to her legs before things get started, holds out her hand to me and says, “Hey smell this! It’s made where I’m from!” And somehow I’m able to smell it, and it smells like Tahitian vanilla. I’m so surprised at being able process scents in the dream (because olfactory response is almost universally dead while sleeping) that the dream immediately ends.

The Regularly-Scheduled Main Dream: Inception-Edition

I run into one of my coworkers and her husband in a big building that’s somewhere between a farmhouse and a dormitory. They’re both big nerds so we get along pretty well. At the start of this dream, I know the secret process to reliable multi-person dreaming. No person prior to this moment has ever been able to enter another person’s dreams and it has been historically viewed as a fool’s errand and paranormal quackery. But I am armed with confidence in the validity of my esoteric knowledge and that’s all the encouragement I need.

“Hey, guys!” I say. “I’ve just discovered the secret to traveling into other people’s dreams!”

They aren’t buying it, because they (like reasonable people) have been told that such a thing is fake and/or impossible.

“It’s real and I can prove it! With actual science and everything!”

My friends reluctantly agree to allow me to travel into their dreams, but they think it’s a simple task of just lying down to sleep and then the magic happens. But that is not the case! There are rules and procedures and scientific best-practices to be followed!

In my exhaustive and completely fictitious research, there are literally dozens of requirements we have to fulfill in order to walk between dreams. Conveniently in the dream, I had an encyclopedic knowledge of all of these steps and started rattling them off. There were a lot more than these, but these are the only ones I can remember:

Unlike in Inception, you have to be completely aware of my intent to show up in your dream. Otherwise you’ll just have regular dreams and also because it would be weird if I didn’t have your consent

You have to go asleep before me

I have to sleep in the same room as you

The two of us must sleep very close to the same elevation, but I must be slightly lower (by a distance about as large as a fist)

I must be asleep for at least six hours before any dreamwalking can take place

There’s this weird machine that I have to connect to my brain that looks like VR goggles

A certain number of sleep cycles must be completed for each person, but the exact number is different for each of us.

I have to be able to wake up before you and stare at you in silence for at least a little while (look, I know it’s creepy, but it’s for science okay)

Our respective sleeping positions should form a 90-degree angle with our heads being the closest together

NO TOUCHING WHEN SLEEPING! (this is more of a data-integrity safeguard instead of something that will actively prevent dreamwalking)

That sleep machine from earlier? It makes some cool line graphs. The red line must be below the yellow line on the graph which indicates something called “near-wave theta offset” but the red line’s waveform must look otherwise identical to the yellow one.

This isn’t true dreamwalking (in that we both simultaneously experience the same dream), but something that’s more like leaving a voicemail message for the other person to experience. I can send you a message, but won’t be able to experience a response.

Literally the rest of the dream was going through every step of the process in great detail to explain that yes, Fish Davidson does indeed know both science and dreams. I connect my brain to that weird brain scanner thing and show off the data output. Despite getting through the entire “pre-flight” process, the (real-life) cats started a wrestling match on my head and made sure I would never be able to truly realize my scientific achievement.

But if anyone wants to use my groundbreaking foundational research to create dreamwalking technology, let me know and we can talk licensing agreements. My fees are very reasonable.

-------------------

Header image by Amerisleep

#dream journal #dreams #dreamwalking #brooklyn 99 #amy santiago #fishdavidson #bulleted list #science #inception #sleep #hof

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elena-mayfair · 3 years ago

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Back in the dream

Paring: Morpheus x f!reader, Sandman x f!reader Warnings: swearing, blood, nightmarish images Summary: As a sorceress and exorcist you got used to the nightmares in your life, creatures that you fight fearlessly. But there is one place where your fear overcomes you, your dreams. Every night you dream nightmares and every night you see him. One night he decides to reveal himself changing your life in the process forever. Word count: 3.3k Note: Gifs are not mine, credit to the authors.

Part one of the story: Lost in the dream

***

"I am Morpheus. Dream of the Endless. Lord of the Dreams." these were the last words that you heard before you drifted away into the dream. These were also the first words that you thought of after you opened your eyes. "Dream of The Endless..." you looked around your bedroom and outside of the window. It was a beautiful, sunny morning, the kind that brings a smile to one face, that promises a beautiful day full of joy. You scouted your bedroom once again and to your disappointment concluded that everything was normal, mundane even. The only unusual thing about this morning was the way you felt, you felt good, well rested, happy even. Like you slept for the first time in ages. There was no sand under your eyelids, no headache, no pain in the back, you felt wonderful.

"Lord of the Dreams." with that thought you got up from the bed, made yourself a large cup of coffee, and hit the books. You had plenty of them in your apartment, shelves full of old volumes binded in leather, with gold and silver letters on the spines that fade out over time. Occult books, grimoires, journals, and memoirs were filling in the shelves, piles and piles of mythology and legends books were filling in every smallest space of your apartment. Everything you could find, buy, steal or trade, your priceless possession. You were determined, you were curious, you needed to find an explanation. There was a part of you doubting that the events of the last night even happened "I must have dreamt it all," you thought to yourself while browsing through a particularly interesting volume about dreamwalking.

A lucid dream is one in which the dreamer is aware of dreaming and may be able to exert some degree of control over the dream's characters, narrative, or environment. Early references to the phenomenon are found in ancient Greek texts.

Nothing that you wouldn't know already. Has all of it really happened? Have you really got lost in the dream so much so that you ended up in a different, "different what? World? Reality? What exactly?" the thoughts were bothering you. "Was he really here? In my bedroom? Was it all a part of a dream?" The part of you, the one responsible for instincts and your ability to do magic knew that it indeed all of it was real, but that part was relentlessly fighting the other part, the logical one more grounded.

"I am Morpheus" flew though through your mind, chills went through your whole body on the recollection of that deep, dark voice, and his endless starry eyes. You decided that you could not have dreamt that and with that thought you switched from occult books to Greek Mythology. On the floor on which you were sitting books were surrounding you from every side. You grabbed a beautiful brown leather volume with gold embellishments and started browsing. "Zeus, Hera, Poseidon, Demeter, Athena, Apollo, Artemis, Ares, Hephaestus, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hestia, Dionysus... where the fuck is Morpheus?!" you were turning page after page sipping a second cup of coffee "there you are..."

Morpheus, son of Hypnos, the personification of Sleep, was the god of Dreams. His name reflects his role in Greek mythology: the Greek μεταμόρφωσις (metamorphosis) translates as “transformation”, which can be broken down into μετα- (meta-) meaning “after” and μορφή (morphe) meaning “form”. Μορφευς (Morpheus) means “form” or “shape.” He could form and shape the dreams of the sleeping.

“To kings and chieftains these at night display their phantom features; other dreams will roam among the people, haunting common folk. All these dream-brothers the old god passed by and chose Morpheus.” Ovid, Metamorphoses

"I'm wasting my time," realization hit you. You knew Greek Mythology, Greek, Roman, Egyptian, Norsk, Slavic you knew them all. In every mythology there were similarities. You could find a similar description of other entities in other mythologies that you were sure of. None of this was of any help to you, none of the information you could find in your books would explain last night's events and you refused to believe that he was a Greek God.

"Dream of the Endless." you reminded yourself of his last words to you. "Endless...." you knew that there was no point in hitting the books and searching for that word. You knew exactly what you would find, jack squat. There was only one person you knew that could have any useful information, but involving him was not something that you were eager to do. After all, last time you talked you didn't exactly finish up things on the good terms.

After a brief moment of contemplation and two cigarettes, you decided that you do not exactly have any other choice in the matter. You grabbed your phone, lid up the third cigarette, and waited for the signal to end...

"Y/N Wha''s up love? I''s bin a while, I assume 'ha' you've go' some'hin faw me. You would no' call me 'o check 'ah I'm doing." you heard in the phone distinct cockney accent.

"How you doing John? Seems to me you're alright, you picked up the phone after all. I would assume that there is no signal in hell" you replied with a sarcastic grin on your face.

"Ah love, 'o 'ell i'm goin faw a cha' an' a glass ov whisky. I''s good 'o be ou' ov reach ov annoyin calls once in a while."

"I'm gonna agree with you on this one," you replied "but honestly, you good?"

„S'ill live an' kickin. Wha' do you wan'" the courtesy was over, time for the business came.

"Listen, I came across this thing, and since you are in the business way longer than I am I thought you might have some information" you explained, but the fact that he did not ask you about your wellbeing did not skip your attention.

"Wha' 'hing?" he asked.

"What do you know about Endless?" you asked with no hesitation. Even though you really didn't want to get in touch with John Constantine again you knew that you needed answers.

"Time is endless love, air, space, an' bo''le ov bloody whisky af'er par'icularly good spell."

"What about Dream of an Endless?" you continued.

"Mee' up faw a drink in 'wo 'ours. We 'aven'' see each o'her faw a year. We goin 'o ca'ch up"

"You are in town?" you got surprised.

"Yes, 'ad some business 'ere. Same place as always." he replied "An' love, don'' you be la'e."

***

Two hours later you were sitting at the Smokey Joe pub, one of the best places in your town, if you were dark interior, old dusty furniture, smoking indoors, old British rock, and good whisky served in not so clean glass. You order yourself a glass of whisky and waited, waited for your old friend to show up. You couldn't help but wonder about all the times you were sitting here with John and agreeing on the terms with clients in need. You reminded yourself of all the drinks you drink with him after the job well done. These were good times. You would not admit that to him but you've missed these times.

"'ello love! you look 'roubled as usule." blond man in the tan trench coat seated himself on the opposite side of the table. Facing you he smiled at you.

"Hi John," you replied with an honest smile, despite everything you were happy to see him "it is good to see you"

"Tell me love, wha' kind ov mess you go' yourself in'o?" he did not waste a time for any small talks.

"I hope none, but something happened," you started but realized that you do not exactly know how to describe last night's events "Can you tell me something about Endless?"

"Why do you wan' 'o knah?" he asked

"John, just tell me..."

"I' does no' wawk like 'ha' love. You ei'her goin 'o 'ell me aw you goin 'o ge' jack on 'he pla'es ov fucks from me." he interrupted, "You 'ake me faw a plonker? folks don'' walk around 'own 'alkin abou' endless! I'm doin 'his gig way longer 'han you do. You've mee' one 'aven'' you."

"I..." you took a sip of an amber liquid from your glass "I think so."

"Which one ov 'he bloody endless you mee'?"

"Dream." you replied shortly. The image of the pale man dressed in black holding you by your arms and looking at you with depthless starry eyes flashed in your mind bringing chills to your body for a second time today.

"Bloody 'ell" John took a sip from his glass "So i' is 'rue. 'e is really back."

"So he is real!" you almost screamed from the excitement, after all it was not a dream, it was real "Who is he!? John tell me!"

"'e is a bloody Sandman, fuckin kin ov da dreams!" he replied with a scoff.

"Sandman is a fairytale John, a bedtime story. He does not exist" you argued yet you felt doubt in your own words.

John looked at you from behind the glass of whisky with amusement in his eyes.

"He is real..." you said to yourself "Holy fuck...." you stared down at the table, shocked in disbelief "Who is he? What is he? Is he a God?"

"no, 'e is no' a god. Awer no' a god in 'he way you 'hink ov god. 'e is endless, bollocks 'ah 'o explain 'ha'..." he started looking at your child-like curious face "they are an an'hropomawphic manifesta'ions ov an idea, ov concep'. Always bin 'ere an' always will be. Da one you've me' is a kin ov dreams, as far as i knah 'e rules dreams, every single one ov 'he dream an' nigh'mares belongs 'o 'im an' is 'is crea'ion"

"Unbelievable... " you said to yourself "Wait, you said they"

"'e's go' siblings. Desire, Despair, Dea'h, Destruc'ion, Delirium, Destiny." he replied

"How do you know all of this?" you questioned.

"Bein on a good 'erms wi'h Lucyfer 'as i''s benefi's love." he replied with a cunning smile. "Listen love, wha'ever you 'hink ov doin don''. They are dangerous beings, beyond any'hin you have ever seen aw faced before. You come across any ov 'he bloody endless you run opposi'e direc'ion."

"I know how to take care of myself John," you replied "I don't need your concern"

"Yes, you do! because you are a bloody plonker followin emo'ions no' your fuckin brain! you goin 'o ge' yourself in 'rouble an' i won'' be savin you! fuckin don'' coun' on i'!" he hit his glass on the table spilling a bit of whisky.

"Don't worry about me," you stood up rapidly "I'll be fine." you gave him a small peck on the cheek and before he could stop you run towards the door "Thank you, John! Doing business with you is always a pleasure!" you said loudly and closed the door behind you.

***

You couldn't hope for the night to come quicker. You muted your phone to avoid John's calls, tidy up the apartment, put all the books in order, and even did some dusting just to waste some time and not think about Dream. But as soon as the night fell you took a sleeping pill, turned off the light, and got to bed. Your were breathing slowly trying to calm down your heart beating. Inhale and exhale, inhale and exhale... you were waiting for the familiar spiking needles to start in your feet and put your body into paralysis. It did take long. Half an hour later your body was numb, blood was pumping in your ears, but fear was nowhere to be found. You drifted into the dream...

You've found yourself on the dark wet street standing in front of the hospital. It was raining. White and red lights or the emergency room were flickering ominously. You knew this place, you knew this hospital. You've been here before. You desperately didn't want to get inside. You knew very well what you will see in there. But it had to play out, you had to go through it. You took one small step and felt your heart rushing in frantic fear. "Why here? Why this? you questioned. You took one more step and suddenly you were standing right in front of the entry. You looked back and all you saw dark parking lot covered in rain. You looked back into the hospital and you saw it. Doctors and nurses running through the hallway next to the hospital bed. You looked closer and you saw it, you saw your dad... lying lifelessly, surrounded by doctors, tubes, and cables. He looked at you, "My daughter" he said soundlessly and you felt your eyes filling up with tears. "Dad..." you took one step inside "Dad...it's me." you rushed inside...

And suddenly everything was gone...

...

"Dad...," you breathed out loud but the nightmare disappeared. You looked around and noticed that you were back in the dying land. You looked up on the small hill, excitement was building up in your veins. Your heart was beating fast but not out of fear and all of a sudden it skipped a beat. He was not there. "What the hell," you thought to yourself. For months you saw him in this exact place, standing in the distance like a still statue, but this time was different, he was gone.

You took two careful steps worried that somehow moving too fast will break the dream and you will wake up in your bed, alone. But when the dream did not end you started running. Not walking fast, but running with all the speed that you could master. Running towards the hill on which he was always standing, running to see if perhaps you will find something there, running to see what he was looking at all this time. You stood up in the same place where he stood before and saw nothing, absolutely nothing. Just endless plains of dust, debris, wind howling lifting into the air dead tree branches and leafs. The landscape in front of you was somehow beautiful and sad. You felt sorrow in your heart, it must have been a beautiful place once, full of life. You imagined green fields everywhere within eye's reach. Forests blooming with life. Sky blue as in the fairytales, wind gentle and soothing. It must have been a beautiful place once. Now everything around you was dead. And he was not here.

You slowly turned around, you thought it would be best to return to the same place where you always appeared in this land. It was gone...

From one side of the horizon to the other there was a wall reaching way up to the sky itself, endless, neverending. And right before you, there were gates made of horn and ivory, shining in the remaining light of the dying sun. You tried to gather it all with your eyes but you couldn't, it was so beautiful, you forgot how to breathe. You could just stand there and stare at the view in front of you. You didn't even notice him standing right in front of the door, reaching out his hand towards it.

"Morpheus..." you whispered quietly yet in the dying lands every noise stood out like the loudest scream. He slowly turned to you and you could swear that you saw surprise on his face again. Even standing in front of the endless magnificent crafted gates he looked so unreal, like a marble statue dressed in black. You smiled unconsciously partially because you were happy to see him and partially because you just proved to yourself that you weren't dreaming last night. Yet you didn't have a chance to dwell on that because within a blink of an eye you found yourself standing right in front of him.

"You have a habit of wandering in places where you should not wander to," he said calmly.

"So you are real," you whispered. You could see him for the first time up close in the light, looking at him made your heart slow down dangerously. His skin was even paler than you thought, raven hair black as the night sky on a starless night, and his eyes endless, like the universe itself.

"I am." he replied. He spoke every word slowly, with care, like he was tasting it on his lips before speaking it, like he knew exactly what to say, what you will say, like there was no point of saying anything more or less.

"Thank you for the good night's sleep," you said with a slight smile.

"You are welcome."

"This is unbelievable," you whispered again "forgive me, I don't mean to stare but, this, all of this" you took two steps away from him and pointed at the gate "this is...my god...it's so beautiful."

"These are gates made from horn and ivory," he followed your hand gesture with his eyes "I carved them myself many eons ago."

"You made these?! Unbelievable..."

"Every Dream that passes through the gate is my creation, my responsibility, " he stated "But no one guards the gates anymore, there are no Dreams in the Dreaming anymore." there was sorrow in his eyes.

"What happened?"

He didn't reply to your question. Instead, he looked at you, he looked through you with his endless black eyes, like he was trying to find an answer to the question that he did not ask.

"You are not a Vortex," he stated more to himself. "What are you? How did you get here?"

"I don't know," you replied quietly.

"Mortals cannot wander into the Dreaming," he stated.

"I really don't know how I get here," you tried assuring him "all I know is that for the last couple of months every night I was dreaming a nightmare, and every night at the end every nightmare I was ending up here." you tried explaining.

"Here?"

"I mean not hear, like hear hear. I mean in this land," you looked around you "and every time I saw you in the distance, standing on the hill, looking over the horizon" you added.

He did not say anything. All he did was look at you trying desperately explain to god like being why and how you got to his land.

"Morpheus, I am not lying to you," you tried to sound confident.

"I know." he cut you off. He turned his eyes towards the gate "It used to be a beautiful palace here, and the land was green, blooming with life," he started slowly touching the gates "Everything died during my absence." he pushed gently onto the gate and they opened, commanded by his will. He turned to you and reached out his hand "Come, Y/N. I invite you to join me in the Dreaming."

You took his hand and suddenly you felt calm, at peace. You straightened your back and follow him inside the land.

"We have much to talk about..." he added quietly.

Part three: Through the Dreaming

~~**~~

Authors note: Damn, so I did write a follow-up! :) I'm kinda surprised because consistency is not one of my strengths. But Sandman inspired me so much, swallowed me whole. I am not quite ready to let it go yet. While I'm writing I'm listing to the soundtrack and images are painting themselves. Regarding John Constantine, I decided to go with John even though I do love Johanna's character simply because I know and love John's character for a long time, and he was a part of the original source material. Also, I wanted to express in the writing his distinct British accent, I do hope it wasn't too much. My apologies to all the Brits out there, English is not my first language, I am no British, it was a purely stylish thing. In the end, as always, Dear Reader, thank you for reading :)

#morpheus x reader #the sandman x reader #the sandman #Morpheus imagines #the sandman imagine #Morpheus x you #Morpheus fanfiction #Morpheus fic

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