#like donna is the only one who didn't have a completely depressing ending in the end | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ageless-aislynn · 8 months ago

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Tagged by the ever lovely and awesome @swiftzeldas Thanks, hon! 🤗💖

How many works do you have on AO3? 148

What’s your total AO3 word count? 290,660 😵‍💫

What fandoms do you write for? Actively writing for Halo now, but still have some for the Flash to finish up. I've previously also written for Doctor Who.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos? "Five Times Oliver Held Felicity (And The One Time She Held Him)" (Olicity, Arrow) "15 Minutes" (John-117/Reader, Halo the series) "Balancing Act" (NSFW) (Tenth Doctor/Donna Noble, Doctor Who) "Side Effect" (NSFW) (John-117/Kai-125, Halo the series) "No Time" (John-117/gender neutral Reader, Halo the series)

Do you respond to comments? I always do and if for some reason I didn't, you can be sure I either didn't see it or something interfered with me in replying and now I've thought I did. That, er, happens more than I wish it would these days. *swiss cheese brain is swiss cheese* 😔🫥🙄

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I very rarely write angsty endings, so they're kinda notable when they happen: "Cold" (Eobard Thawne/Killer Frost, The Flash) (Very short but I've been told it packs a punch. 🥰😉) "Dark/Light" (chapter 1) (Harry Wells/Caitlin Snow, The Flash) (An experimental fic where the dialogue is exactly the same in ch1 and 2 but they tell vastly different stories. 😉) Honorable mention to "Gray Sunflowers" (Caitlin Snow/Hunter Zolomon, The Flash) as a rare one where the entire fic is a metaphor for depression and even though the ending isn't super angsty by any means, it also isn't particularly hopeful either. It's still one of my favorites, though, because I felt like it has a distinctive voice.

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? I'm resisting the urge to put "Side Effect" and the, er, multiple "happy endings" that occur in it here, lol! 🤣🤣🤣 Honestly, basically all of my other fics have a happy ending. I might go with "The Thousand and the First" (NSFW)(Eobard Thawne/Caitlin Snow, The Flash) because I wanted it to carry through a complete redemption arc for Eobard and I think it succeeded. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯😉

Do you get hate on fics? So far, no. On vids... oh yeah. 😑

Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Um, yep. Lots. I tend to write smut with a funny tone. I've very rarely done a conventional "romance novel" type scene. "Balancing Act" (Ten/Donna, linked above) was one of the first I'd did with that quasi-realistic/funny tone to it.

Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? I've only written one so far: "Cold Hands" (Caitlin Snow/Jordan Mahkent, The Flash/Stargirl), which also has a vid, "Gasoline."

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I'm aware of. Again, a vid? Yes.

Have you ever had a fic translated? Not as far as I know.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? I don't work well with a co-writer, simply because my muse is so resistant to writing to an outline.

What’s your all time favorite ship? To write? Any variation of Eobard Thawne/Caitlin Snow and the Wells dopplegangers/Caitlin or Killer Frost, The Flash, John-117/Kai-125 and John-117/Reader.

What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? "Try" (both versions of Eobard Thawne/Caitlin Snow, The Flash). I have 3 chapters completed and it's definitely the fic with the most world-building in it and it would also be the first full-fledged poly fic I've done. But my inspiration for the Flash just got smushed by the show so repeatedly I doubt I'll ever get enough oomph to finish it.

What are your writing strengths? Funny smut? Taking fandoms that are very not domestic and writing domestic fics in them? (I'm looking at you, Halo. Apologies to all of the Halo fans out there who absolutely hate people like me. 🫣I know you're out there but I appreciate you only vague-posting about me/people like me and not calling me out by name.)

What are your writing weaknesses? I don't write plotty fic very well, nor do I stick to canon very often. Worst thing is how easily I can sabotage myself and get convinced that everybody hates what I write. I've had SO many wonderful comments telling me otherwise but mannnnnn, my Evil Inner Editor can make me feel like the worst imposter ever. 😔

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I've written for Sherloque Wells a handful of times, most notably "Unrequited" (Sherloque/Caitlin, The Flash) but I had help from a genuine French speaker to make sure it was saying what I thought it was saying, lol! It's not something I would want to do a lot, though, because I don't have a good enough grasp on any other language to feel comfortable with it. I greatly admire those who can, though!

First fandom you wrote for? Lord of the Rings, though it's no longer online anywhere. Doctor Who was my official entrance in the awesome world of fanfic after that!

Favorite fic you’ve written? Well, ask me my favorite child, why don't you? 😮🤣 How about I pick one two that haven't been mentioned so far that I'd love to see get more attention? "Phase Two" (Ninth Doctor/Rose Tyler, Doctor Who) is a sentimental fav and "Offer" (Eobard Thawne/Killer Frost, The Flash) is honestly a world I would've loved to have written more in because I found it so interesting.

Tagging any of my writer friends who see this and would like to do it! *boops your nose politely*

(Boop paw GIF kindly made by @theredtours) 😉

#fic tag game #tag game #ageless aislynn #writing

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rjshepherd · 4 years ago

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4 Lords headcanons- Donna Beneviento

Donna is just adorable to me. If she was real, she’d be the lord I'd most want to hang out with. We have the same sense of dress, the same love of dolls and we’re both depressed as fuck and we’re both very shy and quiet in person but more outgoing on our own or in comfortable company. She’s also a cutie pie! Scar or no scar! I love those big brown eyes and her round face!

Ok before i become a total donna simp, here are some headcanons, long post under the cut:

Donna is a twin. Or at least, she was. Her sister is the grave we see at the start with the cadou infested flowers, Claudia Beneviento. I want to believe Donna planted her hallucinatory flowers there because she wanted to see her sister again, but it's more likely she knew the corpse would fertilize the ground and cause them to grow better.

Twins are very common in house benivento, it is part of the reason for their focus on duality in their house emblem. However they seem to be unlucky. One of the twins is usually “cursed” in some way. Either by illness or disability or just general bad luck. For Donna it was her scar but arguably Claudia was more unlucky, since she never made it out of childhood.

Donna loved her sister but since she hid herself away due to her scar, she didn't really miss her sister when she died. I think she was a bit young to understand for a start, only being 9 when Claudia died, and didn't really feel her loss like her parents did. They weren't typical, inseparable twins. Claudia was outgoing, made many friends with the other village children. Whereas Donna was shy and quiet even before being the sole survivor of her family. She preferred the company of her dolls or to watch her parents work while the other children played.

How did her sister die? Well, Miranda, obviously. Claudia was Miranda's first choice of the twins. She wanted Claudia for Eva’s new vessel. Sadly, for whatever reason, Claudia died, so Miranda moved down the line to Donna. A successful experiment but still a failure as a vessel. As an adult, Miranda treats Donna like an afterthought, much like her own parents did when Claudia died.

Claudia being buried with the family chalice signifies the end of house beneviento. I doubt Donna’s parents thought she was capable of leading the family, given that Claudia had been groomed for that position.

I believe her sisters death sent her mother into a spiral. The concept art shows a woman who would have been Donna’s mother throwing herself into the waterfall behind house benivento. I believe her mothers body was never recovered and as a result her father drank himself to death leaving donna all alone at around age 12.

Some of donna/Angie's voice lines lead me to believe her father may have been abusive. “Papa stop it stop it” or words to that effect are said more than once. This could just be her messing with ethan but i thought i'd toss this in here as a headcanon anyway.

If Donna’s father was abusive or neglectful then I believe Angie was a guilt present. He built Her as an apology to Donna for his behavior or treatment of her.

Donna is the youngest lord, potentially born in 1987 which would make her 34 at the time of re8. She was infected in the early 2000s, not long after her parents died. Miranda treated Donna well as a child, it often made the other children miranda experimented on jealous. Since she was treated well, not like cattle, Donna has never had any friends, even amongst the other lords.

To me, Donna is autistic. Her shyness, her hyperfixation on and skill with dolls, her problems socialising , her covering her entire body to avoid being touched. I know not everything she does is definitively an autistic trait but it brings me joy to read her that way.

Donna is happy to send Angie away from or around her to deliver messages, she has quite a far range of control. However if Angie is forcibly taken away, Donna will become completely nonverbal. She will attempt to calm herself by stimming, often rocking in place or wringing her hands. If she is touched, overstimulated or Angie is not returned to her she will have an implosion.

Most of the time, these are harmless, if very distressing for Donna. However she has been known to lash out with her hallucination powers if Angie was taken maliciously. She can conjure some very frightening images but is limited by how many people she can manipulate at any one time.

The opening on Angie's forehead is a cadou eye. Donna can see through this, it often acts as a replacement for her own vision since she only has one eye herself.

Donna is a bit of a prankster. She likes to jumpscare the other lords, both as herself or with angie. She also likes to steal or move small items around to confuse people. Bela, Cassandra and Daniela are frequent victims and acomplices of hers.

I'm going to go out on a limb here and say the “severe mental illness” she has is possibly psychotic Depression. Basically serious depression with delusions, thoughts or beliefs that are unlikely to be true or hallucinations. In this case, it's Donna treating Angie and the other dolls as if they are really alive. I feel like depression runs in the family and the psychosis is a result of the cadou in her brain or as a result of trauma.

Her favorite food is strawberry shortcake. She has this often at tea parties with angie. She's also fond of ice cream/ icecream cake ( usually mint, pistachio or strawberry),and scottish shortbread. Her least favorite is anything with beans and key lime pie.

Since she eats so many treats, she bakes quite often. She’s fairly good at it but has mostly mastered the things she likes to eat, rather than try a lot of new things. She mostly makes deserts, not a lot of savory food.

When made to eat healthy or savory food, usually by alcina or miranda, she likes Soups like ciorba de pui (chicken soup) or pilaf. She has a dislike of thick textures so prefers light meals to anything heavy. These foods are what her mother would have made for her.

Her favorite drink, unsurprisingly, is tea, with her favorite blend being earl grey. Tea is quite hard to get in the village as it isn't normally grown in Romania. Miranda often has it imported for her via the duke. She would really like boba if she ever had the chance to try it. Her least favorite drink is anything cherry flavored.

She doesn't usually consume much alcohol but will drink Țuică before meals, particularly if invited to a meal with the villagers or lords.

Again, although she doesn't drink often, she is probably one of the best drinkers amongst the lords and can really hold her liquor . She and Alcina could drink heisenberg and moreau under the table.

Donna has big ace vibes to me but i actually don't hold a headcanon for her or any of the lords ( except maybe alcina). I like to be open to the idea that she could be partnered with anyone or that I can write her FOR anyone.

Donna is very good with her hands. She paints, sews and draws the designs for her dolls all by hand. If you notice on the floor as you go in, she also seems to be knitting and using a shuttle for a loom, implying she might make the clothes for her dolls by hand as well.

Donna herself only has 1 line in the entire game, the rest of the time she uses Angie to communicate. “Don't leave...i can't let you” is both a plea from her for real human company and fear of reprisal from Miranda should she fail her mission. She may not seem it, but she, like Moreau, craves Miranda's approval.

Donna is incredibly light on her feet. Even without her hallucinations hiding her physical form, she can move silently and sneak up on people, much like the ghosts she is based on. Karl has often said she needs to wear a bell or something.

Donna is the only lord who was born, raised and has never left the village. Romanian is her first language but given that she was raised in a lord's family, she had a lot more education than most children, meaning she can speak several eastern european languages.

Before Miranda came to power, the Beneviento family made their fortune in toy and doll making. Their toys found their way into the hands of the richest families all over europe. Ww1 rationing stopped production and Miranda forbade them from starting up again after the war. Since then the family fortune has been dwindling which is why the house is in a state of disrepair ( peeling wallpaper, outdated fixtures and furnishings etc)

She is the weakest lord with the least powers, not even having the standard regeneration abilities of most mold infected people. She is however, very skilled at botany, even before her infection. Her knowledge of plants and anatomy makes her the closest thing the village has to a doctor since the Moreau family fell.

None of her Dolls actually have knives in them, it's all a hallucination on Ethan's part. She finds weapons unnecessary and would never destroy her precious dolls like that.

Despite living by a waterfall, beside a lake and in a village surrounded by water, Donna has never learned to swim. Her parents thought it was too dangerous and too unlady like for the daughter of a Lord.

House Beneviento is more modern than it seems. As there are no fireplaces, it used to be very cold. Donna's father had someone from the factory install a heating system that was very advanced for the village. So because of that, despite being by a constant waterfall, it is usually pleasantly warm in her house.

In that vein, House Beneviento is also one of the few places in the village with electricity, needed to run the film reel, the elevator, the heating and some of Donna's doll making tools like the air brush or drill.

Despite being warped by grief, trauma and mother miranda, Donna is still a very kind person. Yes, sometimes it can backfire and yes sometimes her version of Kindness is very twisted but she’s trying her best.

She actually doesn't like horror movies, particularly haunted doll type movies. She finds them boring and doesn't understand why they wouldn't just get rid of the evil doll or put the evil in something else. Speaking of Movies, she has a habit of talking through them and asking too many questions.

Donna, despite only having one eye now, used to be good at hunting. The mounted buck in the main hall is hers.

Like Moreau, I believe she was quite hurt by the implication that Miranda didn't love or want her anymore after obtaining rose. She was too old to consider miranda her true mother, but she still looked to her as a maternal figure, the one who gave her the ability to make angie real

WELL! That was a lot. I think that's all i have for her for now, but when i open the asks again feel free to send me some stuff about her!

#donna beneviento #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #re8 #house beneviento #angie beneviento #resident evil #headcanons #donna beneviento headcanons #my headcanons #my stuff #my writing

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ofpineapplesanddawns · 3 years ago

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Request: could you write some more hurt/comfort with Malcolm/ten? Thank you 💕

I love that pretty much 99% of the content I write for Malcolm involves hurt/comfort or straight up angst. :D

Warning: depression, mentions of death (Malcolm's wife died in the movie before the events of the story, but for the sake of my silly au, he wasn't married, but he did have a girlfriend)

On with the fic!

The Doctor felt a sense of melancholy in the air long before he found Malcolm when he arrived to the island.

The man looked terrible, well, not really, but emotionally terrible. He was exhausted, his eyes had dark bags under them, and he seemed to have lost much of his enthusiasm and passion.

There was also the addition of a baby in his life.

It didn't take much for the Doctor to realize that the woman that Malcolm had been courting, who he did love, but was much more open with, had passed away during childbirth. The Doctor never hated her, yes, he had been jealous that Malcolm kept their own relationship hidden and secret, but he never hated this woman. She was nice, had only thought of the Doctor as Malcolm's only true friend from the outside of the island.

Which, yes, true, but they were more than that. Still, he had no idea that she had been pregnant, and now Malcolm was alone, with a little girl that he left with a wet nurse most of the time. Malcolm seemed to be in a mechanical state, going through the motions, doing things as he had but without his fiery passion.

The Doctor completely understood, he had been in a similar state when he had lost Rose. But in his case, he covered his depression with manic energy of both joy and anger, he had been looking for distractions to hide the pain. Malcolm was hiding behind normality.

"Malcolm." He approached the man after he had finished his sermon for the day, finally speaking to him after what felt like days, but had simply been one. Malcolm looked at him, then looked away, as he had been doing since the Doctor arrived.

This did not make the Doctor happy and he grabbed Malcolm's jacket, shoving him down into one of the pews of his church. The human had let out a shout of surprise, glaring at the Doctor. Finally, something other than a hollow look.

"What the hell are you doing, Doctor?" He snapped.

"Trying to talk to you!"

"Well, what if I am not in the mood to speak with you right now, Doctor? What if I just want to go home?" There was a hitch in his voice at the mention of his home.

The Doctor frowned, crossing his arms. "You and I both know that's not where you want to go."

Malcolm looked ready to argue, to get up and leave, but he slumps forward, hiding his face in his hands. He is quiet for a moment and the Doctor sits himself down next to him on the pew.

They’re alone in the church, it is quiet, the Doctor couldn’t even really hear the sounds of the community down the hill. It was just them, and he could hear soft, careful breaths from Malcolm. He was trying not to cry, but the Doctor felt he should.

He started to run his hand up and down the man’s back, feeling him tense up before slowly relaxing. “It’s alright, Malcolm Howe.” He spoke softly, leaning against him. “You can cry, I’m sure you want to.”

“I shouldn’t.” Malcolm said in such a small voice, compared to his normal, boisterous tone when giving his sermons to his congregations. “I cannot.”

“You can.”

“I cannot allow myself to cry. I must be strong for my brothers and sisters, I cannot let what happened stop me from following my path.”

It sounded like it hurt to say this. So, he was choosing his position in the community as the leader over the grief he felt over the loss of his lover? The Doctor’s hearts ached at this, he had done something similar. He had grieved in a destructive way over having lost Rose the first time, he had nearly died a few times, thank goodness for Donna and Martha.

But Malcolm didn’t have those two, he didn’t have friends who saw the truth and knew how to keep him from completely going off the deep end. However, the Doctor was here, he could be the Donna and Martha that Malcolm needed.

“You are allowed to cry, Malcolm. Believe me, I... I know how it hurts to lose someone so dear. There was a girl I loved so much, but I-I lost her, she’s somewhere I can’t go, I can’t get her back. I grieved over losing her, I cried, even though I don’t like doing that.” The Doctor spoke softly, still keeping himself pressed against the man.

Carefully, he took Malcolm’s hand from his face, holding it, intertwining their fingers. The other hand covered Malcolm’s eyes, his jaw was clenched tight, and from how his shoulders shook, he was still holding back.

“I can’t... I can’t do this, Doctor.” He said, swallowing hard. “I loved her dearly, and she’s gone. I can’t even look at our daughter, Andrea, she looks so much like her mother already, and she is barely two months old. It makes me heart break to look at her, I fear I resent her for taking away her mother’s life.”

“No.” The Doctor shook his head, squeezing the hand. “You do not, you’re just hurting. You love her, your daughter, I know you do.”

And he did, he had seen Andrea though visits that took place further in the prophet’s life. She grew up well, and even practiced medicine, she’s good for her father and his people. He loves dearly, it just hurts right now, and will for a while.

“Have you seen this?” Malcolm asked, looking at him with wet eyes. “In your future?”

“I have.” The Doctor nodded. “I know what I’ve seen to be the truth, you both love one another so much.”

That seemed to do it for Malcolm, the tears fell, and the Doctor pulled him close. He sat quietly, rubbing the sobbing man’s back, letting him get it all out. He needed this, the Doctor understood that all too well.

Too bad no one had been there to comfort him when he found himself in a similar state of mind.

#malcolm howe x tenth doctor #john's drabbles #good omens extended universe #the prophet and the oncoming storm au

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crashdevlin · 4 years ago

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Leftoverture 3- Carry On

Author’s Note: Don’t get me wrong, I loved the finale, but I was thinking about how much I miss Dean and I couldn’t stop thinking about ways I could have him back so…I’m going canon divergent while being as close to canon as possible. ‘Cause that’s how Cassie do. This is where Leftoverture officially crosses over with Crash Into Me!

Summary: Sam tries to convince Dean to talk to his widow, but it takes a visit from an old friend to get him to do the right thing.

Pairing: Dean x OFC

Word count: 3755

Story Warnings: angst, Post-barn scene sads, mentions of major character deaths (Dean and AU!Sam), mentions of depression, memory fuckery,

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

“Hey, get off the phone. Who are you texting?” Dean asked, looking over at Sam’s thumbs tapping out a message.

“I’m...just letting some people know that you’re back, okay? What?” Sam defended, pulling his phone out of Dean’s reach as his brother tried to grab it.

“She better not be part of that group text, Sam. I will kick your lanky ass.”

“Dean, come on.”

“She has mourned me! She’s probably just starting to get okay and you want me to break that? Not to mention the kid. How are we supposed to explain to her that I’m just suddenly not dead anymore?” Dean pulled over onto the shoulder and glared at Sam until he rolled his eyes and sighed, hitting the X to take his sister-in-law’s number away from the list that included Bobby 2.0, Jody, Donna, Charlie 2.0, and Garth. “Thank you.”

“It’s only been a month. You think she’s starting to get over you already?” Sam finished tapping out his text as Dean pulled back onto the interstate.

“I think I’m a threat to her life as long as I’m in her life, man. I mean, that’s why it took us so long to get together in the first place, because I knew that me being a hunter was gonna put her in the ground and it was just lucky for all of us that it put me in the ground before her.”

“Don’t say th-”

“It’s better for her to think I’m still dead!” Dean exploded. “If she knows I’m alive, she’ll come back to the bunker and she’s gonna end up dead and that’ll be on me! Okay, it’s better if she thinks I’m dead and we keep it that way!”

“So, I guess you’ve made up your mind on this one?” Sam asked.

“Yes!” Dean nodded, somehow still keeping his eyes on the road. “You know what, yes, I’ve made up my mind. Because she deserves to live a life that I’m not ruining. She never wanted the job to encroach on her life, or Rebel’s, okay? Fuck, if I ended up getting that little girl hurt, I could nev--and you know she only agreed to marry me in the first place because Chuck was gonna kill us all anyway and he’s not a problem anymore and what happened to my ring when I bit it? You didn’t burn it with me, did you, because that was a really good silver ring and if you melted it with me, I’m gonna be pissed.”

Sam shook his head in disappointment. “Your wife was wearing it on her thumb last time I saw it.”

Dean sighed and licked his lips. “It’s better this way, Sam. I know you don’t see it, but it’s better.”

“Right. You, uh, you remember when you guys were ‘just friends’ and she started dating that asshole that didn’t know what ‘no’ meant?” Dean’s jaw clenched tight at the memory. “You remember how pissed off you got that she was dating someone, let alone a Dom dickbag like him, and how you spent the entire weekend trying to get dirt on him to use to get her to dump him?”

"He was tryin' to put things in her while she was drunk! He deserved a bullet through the skull for that shit and he's lucky she wouldn't let me go talk to him."

"Yeah, I know. He was a piece of shit, but you didn't know that when we got there. You just didn’t like him because he was dating her."

"I'm a good judge of character and she is not. She dates douchebags. She always has. I mean, look at her cheating son-of-a-bitch ex-husband. If she's dating them, they're douchebags."

Sam rolled his eyes, obviously catching Dean’s self-deprecating undertone in that sentence. "Okay, but you're just gonna let her date someone else? You're gonna let her find some other douchebag to date that you won't be able to save her from?"

"I didn't save her from Mike or Drew. She was already half out the door on both of them before I interceded with either. And I know what you're doing and it's not gonna work." Dean pointed his finger in Sam’s face. "You're not gonna get me all jealous so I go find her because I'm afraid of her getting over me and moving on. I want her to move on. I want her to have a good life. That's the whole point here, man."

"Dean, she's not going to move on. She's gonna be devastated the rest of her life because you aren't-"

"So, we should make it worse by putting her through it twice?!" Dean snapped. "We should make her have to watch me burn another time, right? We should make her clear her shit out of the Bunker in a few years too? We should make her live with the hope that one day I'll manage to make it home again? We should put her heart back together just to shatter it into pieces again when I die permanently? Fuck you, Sam. I can't do it to her. I just...no."

Sam took a deep breath and shook his head sadly. "Fine."

"It's better this way. It's just better."

"Sure. It’s better.”

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

There was something cleansing about a simple werewolf hunt. Sam was being a little overbearing, but Dean understood why. Sam didn’t want to see him die anymore than he wanted to die again. There were only two wolves and they went down easy. It was a textbook hunt...just like the vampire cult should have been.

Sam shook away memories of the night in the barn and followed an energized Dean out to the Impala. It wouldn’t happen again. Not anytime soon. Dean was around to stay. Sam would make sure of it.

“So, hit the motel, pizza and beer, head back to the bunker in the morning. Did you report my death to the fire department because I’m still wanting that job and I’ll have to think of one hell of an excuse if you told them I died.” Dean shrugged, continuing before Sam could respond. “I’m gonna need to come up with an excuse either way, but an excuse for a month of radio silence is easier than an excuse for comin’ out of the Lazarus Pit, ya know?”

“I...didn’t say anything to them, Dean. It was really low on my list of priorities to tell the Lebanon Volunteer Fire Department that Dean Campbell was dead.”

“Awesome. I’ll figure out what to tell them. For now...pizza.”

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

“No, I know, it was a crazy situation, but I honestly think getting lost in the Yukon without a cell phone was probably the best thing that could have happened to me." Dean laughed into the phone as he walked into the library. "Yeah, exactly. Never gonna take a warm, dry bed for granted again. Well, thank you so much for understanding, Captain. I'm excited to get training. That's gonna be...yeah, I'm gonna be there. Thanks again."

Dean smiled as he tucked his phone into his pocket. "He bought it. Thanks for putting those fake Canadian news pieces up. Appreciate it."

"Okay, but what if someone else searches your fake name, Dean?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "You think she's Googling me?" He stepped forward and looked down at Sam sitting at the library table. "She Googles me and she'll find a story about a man named Dean Campbell getting lost in the Yukon and surviving on moose and wolverine and melted snow. No pic, no identifying words. She'll look at it, say 'It is a miracle this guy survived' and then she'll move on to the next search result, okay? I don't understand why you're all up in my business about this but-"

"You don't miss them?" Sam asked, pushing his hair out of his face and leaning forward.

Dean bit his lip and shook his head. "No, I do not."

Sam stood and looked down into his brother's eyes. "Well, I do."

"Well, they're staying gone." Dean patted his brother's shoulder and walked toward the hall. "Good talk."

He sat on the edge of his bed and ran his hand down his face. Of course he missed her. Of course he missed the little girl he treated as his own daughter...or...the other Dean treated like a daughter. It was just too difficult. Explaining to his wife was one thing, an easy thing. She’d come back in a heartbeat and it would all be fine between them. She wouldn’t care that he wasn’t exactly the same in body, that he had different scars and a slightly different pattern of freckles or that his hair wasn’t quite right even after trying to make it work for four damn days.

She fell for him because of how he treated her, how safe she felt with him, how he made her feel. All of that was in the memories. How he felt about her was in the memories, too. He loved her in a way he'd never been able to let himself love anyone else. She was so much different than any other woman he'd considered making a life with because she was like all the best parts of them all mixed together. She was smart like Cassie Robinson, badass like Jo Harvelle, understanding of the Life without being part of it...with a kid, just like Lisa. He remembered that...and he knew that he'd never find another woman like her.

That was okay. He didn't really want another one: another woman, partner, wife. He couldn’t see himself opening up like that to someone other than his short little badass. And Sam was right that he didn't really want her with someone else, either...but she deserved it. She deserved to get over him and move on to greener pastures. So he had to stay away. For her good, he had to stay dead.

For the good of the little girl, too. If he just came back from the dead, it would completely fuck that little girl's understanding of life and death. It would fuck her up for life.

Dean sighed, picking up his phone and kissing his lock screen; the picture they took on the beach for their honeymoon. He held the phone over his heart for a minute and lied back, staring at the ceiling until sleep took him.

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

Dean smiled as he sat in a folding chair on the side of a soccer field, watching a short blonde girl dribble a ball between her feet on the green grass. "She's gettin' good," he commented to himself.

"She missed tryouts this year," a familiar voice said. Dean gasped a little as he turned in his seat to look at the angel in the beige trenchcoat. "They moved back to Florida too late for her to be placed on a team."

"Cas? Are you--is this--this is a dream."

"Yes. But...my presence is not." Castiel smiled as Dean stood and wrapped him in a hug. "Jack saved me from the Cosmic Entity from the Empty. We've been improving Heaven."

Dean pulled back and sniffled as he slapped a hand on Cas' shoulder. "Man, where have you been, then? We've missed you."

"Angels stay in Heaven now. Jack and I thought it was best to keep our interference to a minimum." Cas chuckled. "I'm not technically supposed to be here now."

Dean licked his lips. "Well, then...what's with the, uh, Freddy Krueger you're pulling?"

"Dean requested it. He knows what's been happening on Earth, that you've taken on his memories and essentially become him, and he knows that you are avoiding Cassie."

Dean scoffed and stepped back from the angel. "I'm sure he's got an opinion on all this."

"He does. He has a strong opinion on what you're doing and what you should be doing." Castiel stepped closer. "He told me to tell you to get your head out of your ass. He said that, if you have his memories, you're in love with her too and you need to go to her. He knows you couldn’t live with losing her forever...so don't lose her."

"Cas, she's better off without me."

"Is she?" the angel challenged. "Because she’s Dean Winchester’s widow. Doesn't that put a target on her back?"

Dean pressed his lips together in a thin line and looked away. She could handle it...right? "She's got protections...and we taught her to fight. She's gonna be fine."

"Dean told me to tell you that if you don't get in his car and drive to Florida, he's going to 'rip your pansy lungs out'," Cas said, doing air quotes. Dean scoffed. "He was very adamant that you go to her."

"Fine. But it's gonna hurt her. I'm gonna hurt her." Dean was absolutely serious but Cas just smiled and shook his head a little. "Hey, uh, Cas? Before you go...I'm...I'm not gonna get to see you again, right? So, don't you think we should talk about-"

"I think that would be a bit redundant." Castiel’s smile brightened, crinkles forming at the corners of his eyes. "Dean and I have spoken at length about my sacrifice and the words spoken before Billie and I were taken to the Empty."

"And?"

"And Dean Winchester’s Heaven is full of people who love and cherish him...who see him for the hero he is. He never believes he's going to hurt any of them. You should learn from his example."

"DEAN! Look!" Dean looked behind him to see the girl kick the soccer ball at the goal. He couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face.

"Great job, Youngblood!" he shouted before turning back around. The angel was gone.

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

Dean smiled tightly at Sam as he walked into the kitchen the next morning. “So, uh...I’m gonna take a few days...drive down to Florida.”

Sam’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah...Castiel came to me in a dream last night. Said the original me is up there in Heaven and he’s very unhappy with my choice.”

“Really?” Sam was obviously amused.

“Yeah. I don’t know if it was really him or not. Maybe it was just my brain kickin’ me in the ass but...I’m gonna go get ‘em back.”

“Thank you. I was hoping you’d come to your senses.”

“Yeah, yeah, anyway...I’ll be back in a couple days. I’ve got training on Monday so...it’ll be a short trip. Maybe she’ll come back, maybe she won’t but…” He shrugged. “Don’t know ‘til I go talk to her.”

“Good luck, man.”

Dean nodded before heading to the garage. He had plenty of time to get nervous as he drove toward his in-laws’ house in North Florida. A month wasn’t too long. She’d gone longer without him in the past, but...he was alive back then. She knew he’d be back eventually.

He parked the Impala down the street. He wanted to see her before he talked to her. He needed to see how she was working through his death...if she even needed him. Dead Dean told him to go, but if she was moving on, he’d just get back in the car.

She was on the porch when he arrived, coming around the neighbor’s house to hide in the shadows around the side of her parent’s house. “It’s still hard. I don’t think it’s ever not gonna be hard. I still keep wanting to hear that damn Impala coming down the road. But even if I did hear it...I know it’d be Sam.” Dean bit his bottom lip. She was still mourning him. “I don’t know, Manda, but Erik has been a godsend.” His eyebrows went up. Who the fuck is Erik? Did she move on already? “He’s the only reason I get out of bed most mornings. He’s been helping a lot with Aria, driving her to school in the morning and making breakfast. Oh, he makes the best pancakes.” She gave a small chuckle. “Not that I need pancakes. I’ve put on, like, fifteen pounds since he died. Yeah, that is a lot. Erik doesn’t think so either...and Dean wouldn’t care...but I care”

Dean watched her shrug before shaking her head. “I don’t know. He seems nice but...my parents didn’t even know Dean and I got married, so of course Erik doesn’t know. He doesn’t understand...but he’s helping anyway.” She sighed and hummed a little into the air, staring up at the moon. “It’s still just really hard.”

Dean watched as she finished her phone call to her best friend and kept looking up into the night sky. He had to force himself to step around the side of the house and toward her. “Who’s Erik?” he asked. It was the only thing he could think to ask. Green eyes behind thick, dark glasses went wide as she turned to look at him.

“Dean?” she squeaked.

“Mostly,” he whispered as she threw her phone to skim across the grass and launched herself at him. He closed his eyes as she wrapped her arms around him, overwhelmed by the feel of her warmth against him. “Come on, Crash, I taught you better than this. Where’s your silver and holy water, baby?”

“Inside,” she sobbed out into his chest. “But I know you’re you. I can feel it.”

He pressed his lips to her hair and took a step back, leaning down a bit to look directly into her eyes. “I am me, but I’m also...I’m also not. Can we...can we take a walk?”

“Of course!” she agreed, sniffling and wiping at her eyes under her glasses.

They started to walk out of the yard onto the street. “Okay, but before I get into my whole thing...who the fuck is Erik?”

“Oh, he’s a maintenance guy, works with my dad. When I moved to the Bunker, Erik rented my room.”

Dean nodded, his lips pursed. “So, he’s your parents’ tenant and you’re letting him take your daughter to school?”

“My parents trust him...I trust him.” She stuck her hands in her pockets and shrugged. “He’s a nice guy...and he’s a writer, too. He was shocked by the number of notebooks I have. He used to do all of his writing on his computer, but he’s started writing in notebooks since I showed him the versatility of handwriting a story. He said it was like going back to simpler times.”

“Okay. I guess...so, he’s just…”

“He’s just a guy that lives at the house.” She looked over at him as he jammed his hands in his jacket pockets. “So, how are you back? Sam burned you. You shouldn’t be back.”

“You remember when Chuck was destroying the other universes and the other versions of me and Sam showed up? They were fleeing their world.”

“I remember. Sam wouldn’t take his hair down.”

“Right, well...um…” He cleared his throat. “Couple weeks ago, Man-bun Sam died in South America. Werewolves...and Dean couldn’t take it and he did a full wipe of his memories so that he wouldn’t have to remember and Sam went to Rowena to get her to fix it. Her version of fixing it was to give him, give me, your husband’s memories.”

“So, you’re-” She stopped in the middle of the street and turned to look at him. “You’re not my Dean?”

“Of course I am. I’ve got all of his memories. I’ve got all of his love.” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “Slightly different body...and a different soul. Your Dean is in Heaven. But I’m just like him. I’m exactly like him, Crash.”

She swallowed and searched his face for a few moments before she looked away. “The day we met...why was I crying?”

She was quizzing him, testing his memories, seeing how much like her husband he really was. “Mike left you,” he said quietly. “It wasn’t the first time...or the last. Rebel was about...two years old and you were tryin’ to hold yourself together. We shared some beer and talked about the monster Sam and I put down...and you gave me your number.”

“You, uh, you had a tattoo that I designed...it burned so you don’t have it now, but what-”

“I’ll get the rune again,” he interrupted. “So you can astral to me again.”

“Oh, it is you,” she whispered.

“It is me.” He wrapped her in a hug again and she grabbed at his jacket to hold him to her. “I don’t know how to go about this, though. How are we gonna explain to the kid that-”

“I-I don’t know.” She pulled back and shook her head. “I don’t know if she even caught on to the fact that you were dead...all I said was ‘gone’. I just said you were gone.”

That might make it easier. “Is she back at the house?”

“No. She’s with her father. It’s just Erik and my parents at the house right now.”

“Do your parents know I died? I’m just trying to determine if we can go in or if I’m sleeping in the car tonight.” He smiled at her as she sighed and looked away.

“I told them you broke up with me.”

“So, can I come inside?”

“You’ll have to sleep on the couch...unless you wanna sleep on the floor in Aria’s room. I’ve been sleeping with her on her loft bed since Erik has my old room and bed and all that.”

He smiled and headed toward the house, her hand in his. “She still have that big pile of stuffed animals under the loft?” She nodded and he smirked. “Then I’ll sleep in her zoo.”

She led him into the house and started up the stairs. They were halfway up the stairs when the door to the room that used to be hers opened. “Cass?” a voice asked. Dean stopped in his tracks.

“Didn’t mean to wake you, Erik.”

“It’s okay. I was just worried when you didn’t come back in. Are you-” Shadows fell over Dean and Crash as a figure stepped to the top of the stairs. “Oh, shit.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed as he stepped around his wife and up a few stairs. “What the hell are you doin’ here?” he demanded.

“You’re dead,” the blue-eyed man squeaked.

“About as dead as you’re about to be, Chuck.”

~~~~

The Kitchen Sink - @emoryhemsworth @flamencodiva @wasabiwitteks @rainbowkisses31 @rissbennett @mariekoukie6661 @officiallyunofficialperson @dolphincliffs @mrs-meghan-winchester @gayspacenerd @foxyjwls007 @ilovefanfic86 @marvelfansworld @f-yeahfandoms @wonderlandfandomkingdom @hhiggs @sev3nruby @hobby27 @paintballkid711 @divadinag @thewhiterabbit42 @fantasymyth-1 @queenoftheunderdark @cosicas-cuquis @superfanficnatural @letsby @supernatural-bellawinchester @onethirstyunicorn @swinchester27 @chalicia @screechingartisancashbailiff @death-unbecomes-you @dayasvalkyrie @paryl @wereallbrokenangels @the-american-witch @that-one-gay-girl @tatted-trina6 @sunshineandwings86 @lunarmoon8 @wheezyeds @vicmc624 @couldabeenamermaid @vulgar-library

#cassie writes stuff #leftoverture #spn fanfic #dean winchester #sam winchester #post barn scene #angst

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