#If I wasn’t so selfless I would have killed myself years ago

[hellshire-harlot]

Hahahahaha so it’s literally fucking over for me huh

[thenightling]

Dungeons and Dragons: Honor Among Thieves Review

I originally wasn’t too interested in seeing Dungeons and Dragons: Honor Among Thieves but much like with Over the Garden Wall I was pleasantly surprised after I had heard many good things about it and finally checked it out for myself.

The tipping point to make me finally check out the movie was when someone said it was essentially “Jaskier the movie.”  Jaskier (often translated to Dandelion) is my favorite character from The Witcher novels and Netflix TV series (The novels are Polish, the show is American / UK made).  

Dungeons and Dragons: Honor Among thieves has nothing to do with the previous films (and animated series) with Dungeons and Dragons in or as the title.  This is a stand-alone movie, just set in the same world as those other stories.  You do not need to have seen any previous Dungeons and Dragons movies or played the role playing game to be able to follow this movie. The movie has the atmosphere of a fun high fantasy film from the 1980s.  Someone described it as being the Dungeons and Dragons version of Pirates of The Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl.  And they’re right.  It does have the same vibe.  

This is very much a high fantasy.  I define high fantasy as a fantasy story set in its own world with its own cultures and social norms and this his definitely a high fantasy in the common tradition of resembling the middle ages.

I used to think it trite that so many fantasy stories are set in the middle ages but some years ago I came up with the theory that worlds that have magick as a crutch would be slower to technologically develop.   After all necessity is the mother of invention.  If magick is there you don’t need to invent a lot of the technology our own world relies on and so the culture would be slow to progress.  Though I admit to having a soft spot for the rare high fantasy story set in a world that resembles The Victorian Era (late nineteenth century).   Carnival Row is a good example of that rarity known as Gaslamp fantasy.

The main protagonist of Dungeons and Dragons: Honor among thieves is Edgin who is sort of a spy or secret agent known as a “Harper” who poses as a bard.  He eventually decides that the selfless life isn’t as rewarding as he hoped and he gets a bit greedy, which unfortunately leads to disaster for him and his friends. But they are actually honorable and set out on a quest to rescue Edgin’s daughter and stop the scheming of a former ally and a Red Wizard. There’s a lot of humor and heart and though parts of it are predictable (such as what the tablet of re-awakening would end up having to be used for) it was still fun and enjoyable.  I liked it.  It stirred fond memories of similar movies like Willow, Dragonslayer, or LadyHawke and other beloved fantasies from the 1980s.  My favorite scenes are the interrogation of the dead (though I sort of guessed how it would go).  And the single-person transformation chase with the Teifling.

I genuinely think Dungeons and Dragons: Honor Among Thieves had better writing and more likable characters than the ones in The Witcher: Blood Origin. This is what The Witcher: Blood Origin should have been like.  Instead The Witcher: Blood Origin tried too hard to be dark and edgy and lost all sense of fun.  Dungeons and Dragons: Honor Among Thieves remembered the fun.  

It was nostalgic and good.  Not the greatest movie ever but fun one and I’d happily watch it again.

If I were to have any complaint it’s two petty things.

1.  I had to Google it to make sure the children from the 1980s Dungeons and Dragons cartoon (who make a cameo in this as live action characters) were not killed. The movie does not make it clear they survive but the director says they survived, he did not kill them off.  2.  I think they could have done a better job with the movie poster.  It’s pretty generic.

But as I said, I liked it.  It’s a good, fun, popcorn movie.  It’s a bit predictable at points and I wouldn’t have minded a new twist such as Edgin actually being able to bring back his wife (because I’ve seen the “almost resurrected a loved one but didn’t” plot done to death).  It’s still a fun movie though and very nostalgic in nature.

[dragxnsfire]

ariveth​:

        FOR ONCE, ARIVETH REMAINS QUIET, only nodding solemnly. Was it a relief or a discouragement to know that the world faced just as many dangers centuries ago as it did now? Was it a boon that brave men like Urnarseldo were still present to defend and protect, or was it unjust to rely on heroes who’d already given so much? Did it fall to people like her to find the courage and selflessness to take up that mantle instead?

        "Sounds like a whole lot of fuckin’ hubris,” she murmurs, still unconvinced that Molag Bal was one to be deceived, regardless of how much power he allowed Mannimarco — it was still his power, his realm. Though it wasn’t as if she had much expertise to know better. Perhaps daedric princes were more fallible than she assumes. “Is he dead now? Mannimarco, I mean. Can he die?”

        She sobers up at Urnarseldo’s inquiry, his voice gentle but the questioning abrasive with ancient grief. She’d been born alone and had accumulated no lasting relationships in her lifetime either: she would never really understand that sort of loss, she knows. “No,” she concedes, “but you did save Tamriel as we know it, losses or manipulations or erased history aside. That is no small feat. I just think… well, there should be some pride in that.”

        A tiny smile spreads across her face, and she knocks her knees together idly with a shrug. “Fine, that’s fair, but I dunno what I could possibly tell you about m’self, especially in light of everything you’ve just hit me with.”

He awaited her questions expectently, watcing for her rebuttal, justifications... something. But she'd fallen strangely silent, for the time being, and Seldo returned to his drinking, guzzling what remained of his ale from before he'd drifted off to sleep; a good smoke was tempting— after all, the bugsmoke he'd gotten from Valenwood some time ago had surely matured into something a little more mind-bending— though he resisted the urge. No need to distress poor Ariveth with his nightmare, then give away their location to any hostile onlookers.

"One doesn't get where Mannimarco ended up," he said with a wry smile, "without a little hubris. He believed himself wiser than Ritemaster Iachesis— and he served as the leader of the Psijic Order for three thousand years— and more cunning than Molag Bal. Humility and foresight weren't his strong suit." The ex-Psijic's slight smile fell, and his brows furrowed thoughtfully. He conjured his staff, and prodded the fire. "Some adventurer down in Cyrodiil claimed to have killed him," he said, bobbing his head back and forth, "but I will believe it when I see the den'et's lifeless body myself. And even then, I won't believe it. So no, I doubt he is really dead."

Urnarsldo scoffed, looking away at the praise. "I saved it, sure— until the next calamity. Tiber Septim. Was it worth saving Nirn only to see it conquered by that tyrant?" He shook his head. "I couldn't say, now. But... thank you. For the reminder."

He gave a soft hum, and poked the end of his conjured staff toward her. "For starters, what lead you to the life of a mercenary? You are curious, you've got a knack for prying stories out of people. That is more 'scholar' than 'fighter', to me. After that? Whatever you like, I suppose."

[waywardrose13]

Deliverance From Evil

Pairing: DARK!Dean Winchester x Reader (?), Sam x Reader (platonic)

Word Count: 11,054

Warnings: TRIGGER WARNING: Non-con, rape, physical and mental/emotional abuse. Ages 18+, virgin!reader, language, mentions of depression/anxiety, curse, purgatory, purgatory!Dean, hateful remarks, negative self image, mentions of suicidal thoughts, not enough editing to satisfy me. Please let me know if I missed any triggers/warnings.

Rating: Mature- 18+!! If I find that you are under 18, you will be blocked. Go read some of my minor friendly stories.

Summary: Dean Winchester had two sides; the selfless, caring man who loved his baby brother, car, and pie; and the cruel, sadistic man who was hell bent on making Y/n’s life a living hell. When Dean, Cas, and Y/n are sucked into Purgatory, things take a turn for the worse. Two years later, Y/n finds herself face to face with the man who broke her. A new discovery leads to Y/n finding out the truth, yet sometimes, the truth is better left unsaid.

A/N- This story is very dark and can be triggering to some readers. Please do not read if any of the above warnings are triggering to you. I have also listed some resources below if you are in need of help. I love you all!

Bingo squares: @spndarkbingo​ (Purgatory!Dean) // @badthingshappenbingo​ (This is for your own good) // @spndeanbingo​ (Soulmates AU)

U.S. National Sexual Violence Hotline:  800.656.4673

U.S. National Domestic Abuse Hotline: 800.799.7233

The idea of Purgatory wasn’t what put me on edge. It wasn’t the monsters constantly down your throat, or the blood, sweat, and tears that somehow never seemed to stop. It was Dean Winchester’s sinister stare and cruel remarks that put me on edge.

I didn’t hate the man. If I was being honest, I felt quite the opposite, but it was more of a feeling of distress. Ever since meeting him, something about me had made him loathe me. I wasn’t sure what it was, nor have I ever asked, but whatever it is, I have never been able to make him at least tolerate me. 

Sam and I had met in college. I was a freshman when he was a senior, and he tutored me for a while. We became friends, and soon we found out the both of us had gone to college to escape the hunting life. We grew apart for years, naturally coming back together on a hunt. 

I had been at the bunker with the Winchesters ever since, much to the elder brother’s dismay. And ever since then, Dean had made it his job to make my life a living hell.

It started out as small jabs at me; little comments that had an underlying, cruel meaning to them. Or forgetting to pick me up from police stations, houses, etc, or not bringing back food for me. But slowly, it evolved into something more. He began openly being cruel towards me, saying things that made me cry in bed at night. He’d shove me when Sam wasn’t looking, he’d purposely break my things, bleach my clothes, point out my insecurities for a laugh. 

I honestly thought the bullying ended in high school. 

I hadn’t fallen in love with the person he was towards me. I had fallen in love with the person he was to others. He was selfless and caring. He was brave, intelligent, and had a killer sense of humor. And the simple sight of him made me weak at the knees. But whenever his words were spoken to me, or his glare was pointed at me, I sometimes forgot who he was when he wasn’t hating me.

Something must have been wrong with me. How could I love a man who was so ruthlessly callous to me? Although I had tried to stop the feelings, it was like an inexplicable pull vehemently caused me to fall into a confusing love with this man. It was unstoppable, and however much I prayed or wished for it to leave, the feeling never ceased.

“Hey, Y/N!” I jumped as Dean barked at me, and I snapped myself out of it, looking towards him. “Get your head out of the damn clouds and move your ass.”

I sighed, hoisting my makeshift bag onto my shoulder, trudging after him and Benny. 

After Dean killed Dick Roman, he, Cas and I were swallowed into Purgatory along with the Leviathan, too close to the impact sight, apparently. I immediately knew I was fucked when Dean looked at me dead in the eyes when we landed and told me he’d rather go to hell than be stuck with me in a place like this. 

“We need her, Dean,” Cas had said. Dean had rolled his eyes, scoffing.

“We need her like we need the plague, Cas,” he snarled. I flinched at his words, and I closed my eyes for a moment to keep the tears at bay. “I mean for fucks sake.”

“Look, the way I see it, I don’t care if you hate her, but we need all the help we can get. And she’s a good hunter despite everything else you, for some reason, hate about her.” 

It was the first time someone had stood up for me. It wasn’t long, however, before Dean and I were on our own, Cas seemingly taking off after a particularly rough fight. He ignored me the whole time, not saying any words to me, but using his shoulder to roughly shove me out of his way from time to time. The way I saw it, he wasn’t verbally abusing me anymore. I could manage a few shoves.

When Benny joined our team of two, Dean began speaking again, and we continued the search for Cas.

So here we were now, walking through the dense forest of Purgatory, eyes and ears constantly alert. It was like the start of a bad joke; two hunters and a vampire walk through purgatory…

“Don’t mind him, Cher,” Benny murmured to me. “He’s in a mood.”

“He’s always in a mood around me, Benny,” I said. “Nothing I do will ever change that.”

“Benny, quit gossiping with her and get over here,” Dean said, voice hushed. He was crouched down over the edge of a cliff, Benny and I making our way to crouch on either side of him. Dean shot me a dirty look, and he turned slightly towards Benny.

“What is it?” The vampire asked. Dean nodded his head to the valley at the bottom of the ridge.

“Leviathans,” Dean said. “Took out a small pack of wolves a few minutes ago.”

I shivered, watching as one of the leviathans picked up a severed limb, inspecting it before tossing it to the side. 

“Shit. That was our path, wasn’t it?” Benny asked. Dean nodded.

“Yeah, and I’m not really in the mood to get into a fight with a bunch of leviathans right now,” he said. 

“I don’t blame you, chief,” Benny agreed. “But what are we going to do now?”

I glanced to the left, eyes roaming the cliff side. It was high above the creatures below, and it fed to another cliff edge on the other side. It would be above our path, but most likely would run parallel alongside it. There seemed to be good footwells along the cliffside, and I struggled to get the courage up to speak.

“I have an idea,” I said. Both men looked over at me, interest on Benny’s face and annoyance on Dean’s.

“The adults are talking,” Dean said. 

“Let her talk, chief,” Benny said, patting his friend on the back. “Go ‘head, cher.”

I swallowed. “The side of the cliff: it’s hidden by the tops of the trees. But-” I pointed to the other edge- “if we are careful enough, we could climb across and get to the other landing. I’m guessing the otherside runs parallel to our original path, it’ll just be higher.”

“Smart,” Benny said, giving me a smile. “Real good.”

“How the hell are you going to climb across the side of a damn cliff?” Dean asked, raising a brow. “You can barely hold up your axe.”

I bit my lip. “I’ll manage. And I can, too, hold up my axe. I’m not weak.”

Suddenly I was being shoved onto my back, my hands being pressed into the dirt as Dean held my wrists. He straddled my waist, his face inches from mine.

“Push me off,” he hissed, eyes furiously burning through my skull. I struggled beneath his hold. I was strong, but Dean was stronger, and no matter how much I bucked and pushed and pulled, he wouldn’t budge. 

He let go of me for a moment, and I shoved at his chest, quickly being held down again with one hand while his other held a knife to my throat. 

“You know, it would be so easy to end you right now,” he growled. My eyes widened in fear. “I wouldn’t have to hear your whiny, sniveling voice anymore and see your pathetically hideous face.” 

I couldn’t stop the tears from pooling in my eyes.

“It would put us all out of our misery.”

“That’s enough, Dean,” Benny said, now on his feet. 

“The bitch needs to be taught a lesson,” Dean said, pressing harder. I whimpered, fear clutching my heart in its grasp as he smirked darkly at me. “Don’t you… bitch?” 

“Get off me, Dean,” I said, bucking beneath him again. He laughed, hand squeezing my wrists tighter. “Stop it.”

In a blink of an eye, he had reared the blade back, bringing it shooting back down until it stabbed into the ground beside my head. I flinched away from it, eyes squeezing shut as he was being pulled off me.

“What the hell is your problem?” Benny asked, pushing Dean against a tree. “What the fuck has she ever done to you?”

“What do you mean? Just look at her,” Dean said.

“Give me a reason, chief,” Benny snarled. “Give me one good reason why you terrorize that poor woman.”

Dean hesitated, his mouth agape as he thought for a moment. I was sitting up, hand on my throat as I watched carefully as he closed his mouth and set his jaw, eyes casting downwards.

“That’s what I thought,” Benny muttered, letting him go. Dean took a deep breath, looking up at me for a moment.

“Fine. We’ll do it your way.” He bent down to pick up his sword, slinging it over his shoulder onto his back before making his way to the cliff side.

Benny helped me to my feet, hands cradling my head as he inspected my neck. There was a small nick from Dean’s blade, but I was relatively unscathed.

“Alright, cher,” Benny began, hands gently resting on my shoulders. “You stick with me, okay? I won’t let Dean touch you again.”

I swallowed thickly, nodding my head as he patted my back. He pulled me in for a quick hug before following after Dean.

***

The next three days had gone by in a blur. We had yet to find Cas, and Dean was getting impatient. It was a constant surge of monsters and a constant physical battle with ourselves as we pushed through the fights, trying to swallow back our bile at the blood and guts that inevitably found itself onto our clothes.

I was washing up in the river, a little way through the trees from a camp we had set up for the night. I had carefully peeled off my bloodstained clothes, washing my body as best I could with the river’s water before attempting to clean my jeans and shirt. I scrubbed at them until the blood was simply an ugly stain, tossing the garments onto a nearby rock to dry. I was midway running water over my hair when suddenly arms were lifting me up, eliciting a squeal from my lips. A hand clamped over my mouth and I was dragged back behind the rocks. I struggled in the arms of my captor, rearing my head back and bashing it into their nose. They grunted, and they let go.

I spun around, fists raised, eyes widening.

“Dean? What the hell?” I asked, covering my stomach. My chest was still covered by my bra, and the water was deep enough to cover the bottom half of me, but I felt naked under Dean’s intense gaze. I glance around, spotting my clothes on the boulder. I grabbed at them, pulling the shirt over my head before my jeans were ripped away from me and thrown to the side. “Hey!”

His lips crashed against mine in a bruising force, hand tangling in my hair as he snaked an arm around my waist, crushing my body against his. My hands flew to his chest and I tried to push him away, confusion and fear coursing through my veins as he wouldn’t let go.

I bit down on his lip, and he reared back with a small yelp, touching where blood began to seep from the bite. I pulled my shirt on as he was distracted and backed away from him, arms curling around my torso.

“What the fuck was that?” He asked, wiping away the blood. I stared at him, mouth dropping.

“What the fuck was that?” I yelled. He raised a brow. “You don’t just come onto a girl like that! Especially after treating her like you treat me!”

“I… huh?”

“Are you seriously playing dumb right now?” I asked, brows drawing together. “You can’t be that fucking idiotic.”

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? For everything. But here’s the thing,” he said, moving closer to me. I moved back until I was pressed against the rock. “We’ve been here for almost a year, right? Neither of us have gotten any within that time. You just looked hot down here in the water, and I see the way you look at me sometimes so I just thought, ‘hey, why not?’” 

How long had I dreamed a moment like this would happen? Too many times. More than I’d care to admit. But did I really want to be with Dean for the first time like this? With him hating my guts, simply wanting a quick fuck in Purgatory pf all places? Fuck no.

I scoffed, shaking my head. “You’re shitting me.”

“No.”

I ran a hand through my damp hair. “I… I can’t believe a word that’s coming out of your mouth right now. You think I’m hideous! You’ve said so multiple times, so you’re full of shit! And just so you know, you don’t just jump onto a girl and assume she wants the same thing you do. Besides, who wouldn’t be attracted to you, for fuck’s sake? It doesn’t mean I want to fuck you! God, Dean! You hate me!”

“I don’t hate you…”

“Yes, you do! You’ve bullied me like a damn middle schooler since the moment you met me!”

He sighed, jaw clenching. “Fine. You know what? Forget it.” He moved past me, stopping for a second. “And all have you know, it’s not that I hate you. It’s just that I can’t stand to be around you for more than ten minutes without wanting to put a gun in my mouth. And you’re right, I do think you’re hideous, and my god does your personality make you fucking ugly inside and out. If you don’t want work done on your face, at least work on that. Maybe then you could find someone willing to put up with you.”

He left then, leaving me speechless. I collapsed against the rock, silent sobs racking my body. I hated myself, and Dean thrived on that fact. I had no idea what I had ever done to him, nor did I understand how someone could be so cruel. But there was one thing I did know for sure; Dean Winchester was absolutely hell bent on breaking me.

***

I combed my hair out with my fingers, eyes staring out over the water. 

It was nearly a week after my confrontation with Dean, and he had gone back to ignoring me. I was okay with it, not minding the silence after the cruel words. I always relied on my friendship with Benny to get me through, but it seemed as though he was pulling away from me, too.

I sighed, my hands finding themselves on the dirt beneath me. They were filthy, no matter how many times I scrubbed at them with moss and water, the blood and mud wouldn’t rid itself from my skin.

Suddenly, something went soaring through the air in front of my face, a blade lodging itself in the tree beside me. I fell back, flattening myself on the ground as I looked to the side, seeing Dean standing twenty feet from me, a dark smirk on his face, Benny shaking his head behind him.

“What the hell, Dean!” I shouted, scrambling to my feet. “You could’ve killed me!”

“But I didn’t,” he said, walking towards me. He reached past me, eyes locked on mine as he retrieved the knife from the bark. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

“Don’t be so… are you fucking with me?” I asked, watching as he turned around and shrugged off his jacket. 

“Just drop it, cher,” Benny said, rolling his eyes. I set my jaw and turned away, swallowing back the anger brewing inside my chest. I folded my arms over each other, biting down on my tongue until I drew blood. “I’m going to scout the area. See if I can’t find a better place to set up camp.”

I inwardly groaned at the thought of being alone with Dean, and watched from the corner of my eye as Benny made his way through the trees, Dean leaning against one to stare at me. He was twirling his blade around in his fingers, his smirk not fading from his face. I shifted uncomfortably.

“So, I’ve been thinking,” Dean began.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” I muttered. He stopped twirling the knife, smirk fading to replace his expression with a stoic, hard one. 

“I’ll give you one more chance at this, Y/N,” he said. He walked toward me slowly, and I backed away a bit. 

“At what?” I asked, now pressed against a tree. Dean didn’t stop moving until he could press his palm against the tree, leaning into it as he bent down until he was eye level with me.

“I think you know.” His eyes flickered down to my lips, his tongue running out to wet his own. I shivered as he lowered his face to the side of my head, nose pressing into my hair to take a deep breath in. 

“Dean, please, I don’t-”

“You know, I bet you’re still a virgin,” he interrupted, ignoring my words. I tried pushing against his chest but he took my hands in his, bringing them behind my back and crushing me further into the tree. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with anyone. Although, I’m not surprised.”

“Dean, stop it,” I said harshly, but once again my words went unheard, and he nipped my collarbone.

“Fuck, a virgin pussy sounds so good right now.”

“I said stop, Dean!” I cried, pushing harder against him. He retaliated, quickly holding both of my hands in one of his in order to press against my throat with the other.

“I don’t give a fuck about what you said,” he hissed. “The only reason you’re alive is because of me. Face it, you wouldn’t have made it on your own, and the only reason that I haven’t killed you myself yet is because Sam would kill me when we get back.” He crushed his lips to mine, all teeth and rough pressure as he shoved his tongue into my mouth. He rolled his hips against me, and my stomach churned. “I haven’t had any in a long time, Y/N. I need to let off some steam, and you owe me.” He pulled back to look into my teary eyes. “Answer me this… are you a virgin?”

I clenched my jaw. “Let go of me.”

He growled and slapped me, a yelp escaping my lips as he gripped my chin, bashing my head back against the bark. “I will find out one way or another, I’m just curious.”

I swallowed, teeth sinking into my tongue. I’ve had two boyfriends in the past, if I could even call them that. I had only gone on a few dates with both of them, but never went further than second base. I was twenty-four and never worried about still being a virgin. 

Until now.

I didn’t want my first time being like this; raped in purgatory by the man who hates me, and who I was utterly afraid of; raped by a man I had unwillingly fallen in love with.

I gave a short nod, and he smiled darkly. “Not surprising, but definitely exciting.” 

“Dean, please don’t do this,” I said, struggling against his hold. “Please.”

“Benny will be back soon, so we need to make this quick,” he said. And suddenly, his hand was off my throat and on the button of my jeans. 

“No!” I snarled, trying to kick at him, but he wedged his knee between my legs, and I was completely trapped. 

His hand was inside my pants and down the front of my panties without hesitation, and I cringed at the thought of the dirt and blood that coated both of our skin. His fingers ran through my folds, thumb finding my clit quickly. I squeezed my eyes shut as nausea washed over me, and my body went rigid at the alien feeling of someone else’s hands down there. A tear trickled down my cheek, and Dean bent forward to lick it up.

“Come on, baby,” he cooed mockingly. “Just go with it. There’s nothing you can do to stop it anyway.”

I reared back as far as I could to spit in his face. He flinched back in surprise, his face morphing from cocky and dark to menacing, and I was thrown to the ground roughly within a second, Dean quickly hovering over me and holding me down before I could move away.

“I was trying to make this better for you, I truly was,” he said, beginning to undo his belt. I shuddered and squirmed beneath him. “But now, you’ve just pissed me off. So I don’t give a fuck if you’re ready or not.”

He shoved his jeans down far enough to free his cock from his boxers, moving back to tear at my own jeans and panties and drag them down my legs. I flipped around and began crawling away, but he gripped my ankle and turned me around onto my back.

“I want to see you,” he grunted, hands spreading my legs enough for him to fit between them. I looked down at his prick, eyes widening as I saw the size of him, and he laughed. “You’re in for it now, sweetheart.”

He stroked himself a few times before lining up with my entrance. I didn’t stop struggling, hands trying to claw at his face, my eyes blurring from my tears. He gripped both of my wrists in one of his hands while the other held himself until the tip was resting against me, and then he moved his hand to grip my waist harshly. 

He forced himself inside me in one painful thrust, and a scream of pain was ripped from my throat. Dean smirked, relishing in the fact he had just torn through my virginity with such cruelty and violence. He groaned as he began to move. My hands slumped against him, knowing it was no use. He was much stronger than me, and he had already gotten what he wanted.

“I knew you’d like this,” he hissed in my ear, pulling out just to snap back in. “A bitch born to take a cock. My cock.”

The last shred of my innocence was taken within a second, and each time he shoved himself inside me, it took everything in me not to burst into tears. I turned my face away from him, eyes squeezed as tight as I could in order to try and disassociate myself, praying that this was simply but a dream. 

But as he hiked up my leg around his waist to angle himself deeper inside me, I knew it wasn’t a dream, but a nightmare, one born to tear down my walls and shatter the last of my will. I knew Dean Winchester was intent on breaking me, but I didn’t know he’d take it to such extremes.

“Shit,” he cursed, plunging himself deeper and deeper with each thrust until he couldn’t go any further. I bit my lip to keep in my cries of pain, nails sinking into the palms of my hand.

His hips began to stutter, his movements choppy and I knew he was close. I dug my nails in deeper until I felt blood trickle from my fingers. His hand gripped my jaw, turning my head.

“Look at me,” he growled, holding himself to the hilt inside me until I complied. He smirked at the tears that trickled from my eyes, and slammed himself home once, twice, three more times before he came. He held his hips flush to my pelvis, eyes still locked with mine as he spilled himself inside me. 

He gave a few more lazy humps, making sure he didn’t waste a single drop of his come before slipping out, sitting back on his haunches and taking a deep breath. “Wow.”

I sniffled, scooting as far away as possible as I pulled up my panties and jeans with shaky hands, trying to hold back the sobs and failing. I brought my hand up to my mouth, biting my sleeve to stifle the cries threatening to echo off the trees, and brought my knees up to my chest.

“Shit, sweetheart,” Dean said smiling. He laughed, shaking his head. “You felt better than I thought.” He sighed, standing up then and looked down at me. “Benny will be back soon. So pull yourself together before then. Say one word to him about this, I’ll kill you.”

I nodded in understanding, and he grunted.

He grabbed his axe and turned away, trudging off into the woods for his usual search for firewood.

In the five minutes he was gone, I took the time to pack up the few belongings I had, and without turning back, I ran for the hills.

Two Years Later

The nightmares never faded.

They had become less frequent, yet every few days or so, I’d run from the images inside my own head, battling demons within me instead of on the battlefield. Being scared of someone or something is one thing, but being scared of your own mind, your own dreams, was an entirely different thing, and it took strength to lay down and risk the possibility of reliving old trauma.

Yet, it was inevitable, after everything that had happened. Therapy helped, so did the anti-depressants and anxiety pills I took each night. But the truth of the matter was, the memories of Purgatory were always there, and the guilt and shame never faded, it simply turned into a dull ache that never truly went away.

Running from Dean, I was sore and bleeding, and all I cared about was keeping as much distance between him and I as possible. I listened to the whispers of the monsters, making sure I was never too close. 

Dean got out before I did, just two months after I ran, and it was only a few days later that I found the portal. I didn’t even try to contact Sam, because where Sam went, Dean went. 

Instead, I changed my name and set up a life for myself in a small town up in the mountains of West Virginia. I got a job at a police station as a victim advocate, got an apartment, and never once looked back. 

Quitting hunting wasn’t easy, and every once in a while I’d take a case close to home. But I typically stayed within the state, not wanting to risk running into the brothers on a hunt. 

Over those two years, I slowly began to rebuild my walls. However, in a split second, it all came crumbling down again.

It was a Monday afternoon in October. A cool front had washed over the Virginias and Maryland, finally carrying a crisp, sweet wind to cool our skin from the sweltering heat of the summer.

I was walking back to the station from lunch, having ran to a sandwich shop a block away. I was chewing on my lip and thinking about a particular case when I saw it; the sleek black coat of the Impala.

I felt my stomach drop, and I felt like I would be sick. Surely it couldn’t be the brothers. Other people had this particular car, too. But my fears were confirmed when the door to the station opened, and Sam walked out into the wind, leaves scattering around his feet, Dean right behind him. 

I was frozen with fear. All the progress I had made had diminished in a second. I wanted to turn and run the other way. I wanted to duck into the alley and wait until they were gone. But I couldn’t move. My limbs were suddenly planted and my body lost the ability to move as the man who had made my life hell for years and haunted my dreams stepped into the sun. 

Sam looked around as Dean led the way to the Impala. There was nothing I could do as his eyes landed on me, the surprised look on his face making me wince, the fearful one on mine catching him off guard.

“Y/N?” He asked. I saw Dean stiffen at the sound of my name, and I suddenly regained the ability to move. I spun on my heel and rushed into the alley, hoping to make it around to the back of the station and slip inside unseen. But Sam’s long legs made it so he was faster than me, and no amount of sprinting could keep me far enough away. He stepped in front of me, and my eyes widened. “Y/N… I… You’re alive.”

I swallowed thickly, looking over my shoulder. I tensed as I saw Dean at the end of the alley, his face hard and jaw clenched as he met my eyes. I looked back at Sam, shaking my head and stepping around him.

“I have to get back to work,” I said, trying to push past him.

“Wait!” He said, gripping my arm. I flinched, and he let go immediately.

“Sam,” I said, looking up at him. He tilted his head in confusion at the look of defeat on my face. “Please.”

“I don’t understand,” he muttered. “Dean said you were dead. That you died when you were in Purgatory.”

“A part of me did,” I admitted. Sam’s face darkened at my words, and I looked away. “And if you love me, you’d stay away from me. For good.”

“I thought I lost my best friend, Y/N,” Sam said. “I can’t just let you go now, knowing you’re alive.”

“Sam, please,” I begged. “Please.”

“Why?” He demanded.

“Just let her be, Sam.”

My breath hitched in my throat, and I looked back over towards Sam. Dean had caught up to us and was standing beside his brother now, a dark look on his face. His stare was icy, and it sent shivers down my spine. I shivered when he licked his lips, eyes raking up and down my body and suddenly I was back in Purgatory, his predatory gaze sending me reeling to a time of pain and misery.

“Y/N!” 

I jumped, realizing Sam had been trying to get my attention for some time now. I looked up at him, worrying my lip, tears filling my eyes. “Sam, I can’t do this.”

“Can’t do what? Why did Dean lie? What the hell happened in Purgatory?” He asked.

“Dean didn’t…” I trailed off, rolling my eyes with a scoff. “No, I guess he wouldn’t tell you what happened.”

“Y/N,” Dean warned, stare turning deadly.

“Shut up, Dean,” Sam snapped. “Y/N, you can tell me anything.”

“No, I can’t,” I said, shaking my head. “Your brother will kill me.”

“No, he won’t. I won’t let him,” Sam said. “Now please, I miss my best friend. Let me help you.”

“You can’t help me,” I said. “Not anymore. Purgatory was shitty in itself, but Dean…”

I was suddenly pushed up against the brick wall, a yelp escaping me as Dean’s hand wrapped around my throat, his body pressed against mine. I shivered in fear, visibly shaking as his lips curled into a snarl.

“Dean!” Sam exclaimed, trying to pry his brother off me.

“What did I tell you would happen if you told anyone?” Dean hissed. I beat at his hands, trying to kick out at him. 

“Dean…”

“I’ll kill ‘ya,” he said. “I’ll do it right now. Don’t. Say. A. Word.”

Tears trickled down my cheeks, and Sam was able to tear Dean off me, pushing him up against the opposite wall.

“What the fuck?” He yelled. He pushed off his brother, turning towards me, placing his hands gently on my shoulders. His voice softened then. “Are you okay?”

“I really need to… to get back to work,” I whispered. I was still shaking, and Sam’s fingers tightened slightly, almost as if he was trying to steady me.

“Can I come see you after work? I’ll meet you here and walk you home?” 

I glanced over Sam’s shoulder towards Dean. His jaw was set, and he gave a shake of his head.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” I murmured. I watched a smirk grow on Dean’s face, and I shivered.

“I’m sorry. But I don’t care. I’ll meet you here, okay? At five?”

I nodded.

“Okay. See you then.” He turned slightly. “He won’t be coming, don’t worry.”

The brothers stared at each other intently, and I scurried off as quick as I could, clutching the brown bag in my hand to my chest, not trusting my hands not to shake.

It was my luck that they would end up here, out of all the towns and all the cases in the continental U.S., they had to end up here. There was one thing I was sure about; I wouldn’t be meeting Sam, nor would I be going back to work. I forgot all about my few belongings in the office, beelining to my car, readying myself to pack and be out of town by tonight.

***

I didn’t have much in terms of belongings. It didn’t take long to pack, and I had no set destination. If I had a set destination, I could be found. 

I was taping up the few boxes I had, picking up a few odds and ends, figuring I would leave the furniture and have the building owner sell it. Just as I was finishing, three sound knocks were rapped on my door.

I froze. 

I wasn’t expecting anyone, and I hadn’t made any friends since moving to town. No one would be coming here unannounced. No one except the Winchesters. They had their ways of finding where I lived. Sam probably asked around the station.

“Fucking Sam,” I muttered to myself. I pushed myself up off the floor, stalking to my front door. “So not cool.”

I unlocked the door, keeping the deadbolt in, before opening it.

My heart jumped to my throat.

“Dean?” I asked. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“You didn’t show up to your meet-up with Sammy,” he said. He glanced around my door, stuffing his hands in his pockets, nodding. “Simple and plain. It suits you.”

“Go away, Dean,” I said. “I have cop friends and I’m not afraid to call them. Just go.”

Dean laughed. “Please. We both know you’re not friends with any of them. Besides, what would you tell them? You know what will happen if you say anything.”

“Fuck off, Dean,” I hissed. I went to close the door, but Dean was quick to stick his foot out, wedging it between the door and the frame.

“Nuh uh uh,” he tsked. “Won’t you invite me in, little pig?”

I swallowed. “No.”

“Oh, but why?” He asked, smirking. “You scared?”

I lifted my chin, standing up straighter. “No.”

He chuckled darkly, bending slightly to meet my eye level. “I think we both know that’s a lie, little pig.”

“Get the fuck away from me, Dean,” I hissed. I kicked at his foot sharply, unwedging it, promptly slamming my door shut in the process, turning the lock. I backed away from the door, feeling under the small table near the front door for my gun.

I screamed as my door was kicked in, wood splintering off the frame. Dean laughed, stepping past the threshold, kicking the door closed behind him. It didn’t quite close all the way, but enough so Dean could slip the chain into its lock.

“Here’s Johnny,” he teased, smiling. My eyes widened, and I gripped the gun, ripping it from its confinement, lifting my arm to shoot. Dean moved quickly, knocking the gun from my hand, pushing me back against the wall. He thrusted forward, crashing his lips to mine in a sloppy kiss.

“Miss me?”

“Get away from me!” I screeched. “Help! Somebody please help me!”

I sobbed as he fisted his hand in my hair, bashing my head back against the wall.

“You fucking bitch,” he hissed. “Almost telling Sammy about our little roll around. What did I tell you, hmm? Have you told anyone else?”

My eyes were blurred from the tears. Somehow my nightmares were coming true. Somehow hell had shown up at my front door, rearing its ugly head and laughing as fear twisted my insides and made my head spin. What had I done to deserve this?

“No,” I said. “I haven’t told anyone. I won’t tell anyone. Please just leave me alone.”

He ran a hand down my face, thumb smearing my tears across my skin. “Oh, but I can’t do that. You disobeyed me. You made Sam skeptical. You must be punished.”

“No,” I cried. “Please, Dean. Please don’t do this.”

He gripped my hair tighter, jerking me down the hall, my fists beating against him the whole time, fighting, kicking, screaming. He simply bent down, picking me up, and carried me into my room. He threw me onto my bed, hands gripping my thighs as he flipped me over onto my stomach.

“Now, bad girls must be punished,” he said. He reached underneath me, fingers unbuttoning my jeans. I kicked back at him, my heel meeting the fleshy part of his thigh. He grunted, and I clawed away from him, but he simply pulled me back down. “Well, that just made things so much worse for you.”

He yanked my jeans down, throwing them somewhere in the room, hands tearing at my simple cotton panties. Tears blurred my vision, and I desperately tried to crawl away. I fisted my hands on the mattress, trying to somehow escape from his hold. 

I cried out as his palm collided with my ass.

“Tell me, have you been with anyone else since me?” He asked. I sobbed, screeching behind clenched teeth as he hit me again. “Answer me, bitch.”

“No,” I said. He laughed. I hadn’t heard him take off his belt, but I heard the snap as he pulled it taut. “No, no, no.”

“Oh, yes,” he laughed. He brought the belt down, letting it smack against my bare skin. The sting radiated through my back. Dean was strong, and each time his arm was brought down, the belt would send another striking shot of fire through my body. I was frozen with pain and fear. Dean didn’t have to hold me down after a while. I couldn’t move. “This is for your own good, Y/n.”

I didn’t know how long he struck me. Over, and over, and over he striked, and I lost count after twenty. My hands were clenched in the mattress cover, tears soaking the fabric beneath me, clouding my vision.

I finally heard him throw the belt aside, and his hands curled around my hips, lifting my bottom into the air gently. He softly caressed my skin, and I jumped when I felt his lips touch the welts. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. He rubbed my lower back slowly. “I’m so sorry.”

I sunk my teeth into my lower lip. I froze, not sure what I was supposed to do. I knew moving was out of the question. I was in too much pain to move. Confusion sunk into my bones as he slowly kissed up my back, until he was hovering over me.

He turned me slowly, gently placing me on my back, eyes looking down at me. He tilted his head, thumb wiping away my tears. “Hey, I’m sorry. Please don’t cry.”

“Don’t cry?” I whispered. “How do you expect me to be okay with all of this, Dean? You broke me in Purgatory. You’ve haunted my dreams for the past two years. Then you do this? Just kill me and get it over with. Please.”

He shook his head, furrowing his brows. “I’m not here to kill you. I actually, believe it or not, came to apologize. But as soon as you opened the door I just… I don’t know what came over me.”

“Like I believe that,” I hissed. “Just get the fuck out.”

His jaw ticked, and suddenly his resolve faded. For a second I saw remorse, and now? Fire raged behind his leaf green eyes. I felt his whole body tense against me. I felt him… grow… beneath me.

“Fuck no,” I said. A rush of adrenaline coursed through me. I rolled away from him, landing on my back on the wood floor. I cried out as my raw skin made impact, but I pushed myself up quickly. Dean was up now, his eyes hard and piercing. 

“Come here, little pig,” he snarled. I spun and dashed towards the bathroom. He leaped over the bed after me, but I was already inside, locking the door quickly. I heard shuffling, and I knew I needed to think fast. I spotted the window and yanked my robe off the hook, slipping it on. I stepped onto the toilet, pushed the window open, and peered down the three flights my apartment was up. I swallowed thickly, glancing back at the bathroom door. The doorknob was jiggling, and I knew he was picking the lock. Mustering up the courage, I hoisted myself up and swung my legs over. The door suddenly burst open, our eyes locking.

“Don’t you dare,” he said. I took a deep breath and looked down again. Just as he lunged forward, I let go, feeling the rush of air and my heart plummet to my stomach. My eyes were wide as I watched the ground rush up on me all too quickly. I tried ducking my shoulder to attempt to roll, hopefully saving my legs and head in the process, but I couldn’t quite get there. I felt something snap as I hit the ground, a sickening crunch sounding in my ears as I landed on my side. 

“Y/n!”

That voice was different. That voice was angelic... kind. Sam.

“Oh my god,” he said. He bent down, hands cradling my face as he looked into my eyes. “Hey, stay with me. Are you alright? Jesus- of course you’re not alright, you jumped from a fucking window to get away from my brother. God, Y/n I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

“Why does he hate me so?” I whimpered before everything went dark.

***

“Should she be asleep this long?”

“Her body is healing. It’s up to her now.”

***

“Get the fuck out.”

“Sam… I don’t know what happened.”

“Don’t you dare say that. Don’t come up with these-these lame ass excuses. I saw what you did, and I have an idea about purgatory. Now, for the last time, get the fuck out.”

***

“She will stay with me.”

“And you are?”

“Her brother.”

***

I jolted awake. My body was on fire, my head pounding with a dull ache. I opened my eyes slowly, adjusting to the bright light above my head. A beeping sound came from my right, and a quick glance showed an EKG meter. A fucking hospital.

My shoulder was bandaged and arm in a sling. My knee had a brace on it. My behind felt raw as shit.

“Fuck,” I muttered as I tried to sit up.

“Y/n! Thank God.”

I jumped at the sound of a voice. 

“Sam.”

“God, Y/n… I’m so sorry. So, so, so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” I told him.

“No, but I should have known. I should have done something. God, I can’t believe it.”

I sighed, fiddling with a loose thread on the scratchy blanket that was laid over me. I furrowed my brows.

“Sam… did Dean tell you what happened in purgatory?”

Sam swallowed thickly. “No. But I can guess.”

I nodded slowly. “He told me he’d kill me if I ever told anyone.”

“Have you?” Sam asked.

“My therapist,” I replied.

“A therapist?”

“Yeah. I needed one,” I said. “I was… broken when I got out. I was getting so much better, Sam. I felt like me again. Sure, I still had the nightmares sometimes but… I wasn’t always looking over my shoulder.” My lip wobbled as I fought back tears. “Damn him.”

“God, Y/n/n. I can’t believe it. It just seems so… not Dean,” he said. “I’m so sorry.”

“Sam, I know you mean well, but please stop saying sorry,” I said. He smiled and blushed.

“Sorry.” He cringed. I laughed.

“Stop it,” I told him, pushing his shoulder lightly. He laughed too, grabbing my hand. He kissed my knuckles.

“I’ve missed you,” he said. 

“I’ve missed you, too,” I told him. “But I knew that where you went, Dean went.”

“I understand,” he said.

“Oh good, you’re awake!”

Sam and I both looked at the door, a plump woman in a white lab coat standing in the doorway. Her dark hair was piled high on her head, glasses pristinely balanced on her nose, lips lined with deep red lipstick. She looked like a T.V. doctor, not a doctor in middle-of-nowhere West Virginia.

“How are you feeling?” She asked. She checked my vitals and IV bag.

“Sore,” I replied.

“Your brother here has offered to take you home,” she said. I looked pointedly at Sam who shrugged sheepishly. “Look here.”

She shined a light into my eyes, checked my bandages, and determined that I could go home as long as I was supervised for 48 hours. I silently wondered where Dean was, hoping I wasn’t going to see him. If Sam was taking me home, who knows what would happen? Dean knew where I lived. But if Sam was there, perhaps he wouldn’t be stupid enough to try anything.

***

“Are you alright?”

Sam gently placed me onto the motel bed, careful not to hurt me. His brows were furrowed in worry and his lips were pursed into a frown. I let out a shaky laugh.

“No,” I said. “But I’ll get there.”

“Y/n, I’m so-”

“Stop it!” I scolded. “What did I say?”

“Not to apologize anymore?” He said slowly.

“That’s correct,” I said. I laid back onto the pillows, which were worn, but on my sore shoulder and back, they honestly didn’t feel too bad. “Now, mama needs to rest.”

Sam snorted. “Okay… mama.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Don’t mock me, Samuel.” He raised his hands in defense.

“Okay, okay. Sorry, mama,” he said. “I’ll call Cas. He can heal you.”

I perked up at Castiel’s name. The gentle angel and I had been good friends. I heard whispers about him too, while in purgatory that is. I shivered at the thought of that place and…

No. I wouldn’t think about that now. I was safe with Sam. Surely Dean couldn’t find us here. Right? Sam would have taken measures to keep him from doing so.

“Hey, Cas. It’s Sam. Listen…”

Sam’s voice trailed off as he stepped outside the room, closing the door softly behind him. Suddenly, the room turned eerie. The air conditioner hummed loudly under the window, producing some sound in the empty room. It was confining. I shifted on the bed, wincing as my shoulder moved in an odd way. I adjusted my sling to a more comfortable position. I hated these things.

I sighed deeply, glancing towards the door again. I blew a piece of hair out of my eyes. Alone. It wasn’t an odd sensation to me. I had been alone for the last two years. But I had slipped so easily back into the comfortable familiarity that was once me and Sam. I had missed him so much. He was my best friend, my confidant. Being around him again was liberating. It lifted a weight off my shoulders.

Telling someone what had happened in purgatory, besides a therapist, lifted a weight off my shoulders.

Of course, Dean would kill me if he knew. But it felt good to get it out, not have it bottled up. Dr. Ramirez was great, of course. But she wasn’t Sam. Wasn’t a friend. 

However, now that the room was empty apart from me, the only sounds of the air unit and the springs of the old bed creaking, I was left alone with my thoughts. Vivid images of Dean flashed before my eyes. Of purgatory, across the street at work, the alley, my apartment. Damn him. Damn him for abusing me so. Damn him for not caring. Damn him for giving me a false sense of hope when he spared a silver of remorse. And damn me for loving him.

Did I still? No, I didn’t think so. Not the Dean who hates me. Who hurt me and raped me and tormented me. Not that Dean. Perhaps the Dean who loved his little brother beyond comprehension. The Dean who would throw himself in the line of fire for a stranger. The Dean who sacrificed everything for the world, the world that was so cruel to him. 

Fuck. Of course I still loved that Dean. It was like two separate fucking people. A Dean who would light up at the sight of pie and tell you everything about a band he liked simply because he wanted to share something he loved with you. A Dean who was so selfless, you would need to make sure he wouldn’t go off and get himself killed for absolutely no reason but to save a fucking dog. He would have one look on his face, and then turn to me. That look would turn cold. Those eyes, those beautiful eyes, would turn to ice in a split second. That voice that dripped of rum and sticky honey tore through my heart like daggers in ice. How could someone be so cruel? 

A sob escaped my lips. I was so tired of crying. I hated crying. I wiped my nose with the back of my hand from my good arm. I didn’t want to cry anymore. I didn’t want to think anymore. 

Luckily, Sam opened the door then. It made me jump slightly. Castiel was behind him. I grinned.

“Cas.”

“Y/n,” he said warmly. He walked over to the bedside. He rested a hand on my good shoulder. Cas wasn’t one for touchy-feely shit. But with me, he was always more comfortable with it.

“I’m going to heal you,” he said matter-of-factly. I gave him a nod, a light shining from his hand. A warmth filled me, starting from my head and reaching to the tips of my toes, and suddenly I felt better. I gave him a grin, which faltered at the look on his face. 

“Cas?” I asked. “What is it?”

He gave a small shake of his head. “It’s… it’s a curse.”

“What is?” Sam questioned. He stood up from his seat at the small table by the window. I glanced at him.

“You have had a curse placed on you. An old one. I’ve seen it before, though. In heaven,” Castiel said. “I’m not sure why I hadn’t seen it before now. Perhaps since I hadn’t had to heal you before.”

“A curse in heaven?” I asked.

“It was designed by the archangels. It was to keep soulmates apart.”

“What?” Sam said. “Soulmates? Surely you’re joking.”

“No, I’m not joking,” Cas said. “And don’t call me Shirley.”

Sam furrowed his brows at that. I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing.

“Okay, so a curse. What kind of curse?” I asked. “Who’s my soulmate?”

“The curse is complicated. It can only be placed on one soulmate, and the cursed mate would need to be an interference with a plan from heaven or God himself. ”

“What sort of interference?” Sam asked. Cas hummed.

“Y/n must have stood in the way of her soulmate’s destiny. Her path must cross with them, meaning that she would have altered the path chosen for her mate by heaven. The curse makes it so one of the soulmates hates the other for no particular reason. They can be downright evil towards them. Y/n’s soulmate, if she ever comes across them, may even want to kill her. The curse causes one of the soulmates to do terrible things to the other. They can act one way, and their soulmate walks into the room, suddenly they are filled with an unexplainable rage. There are times where the soulmate can feel remorse or even come to love the one who was cursed. However, the second they lie eyes on the cursed soulmate, their hatred returns.”

Holy fuck.

“If you don’t mind, Y/n,” Cas continued. “Would you mind letting me touch your soul? It should tell me who your soulmate is. I know every path for every human soul. I should be able to see.”

“I… I think I may know who it is,” I said softly. Suddenly my blood ran cold. It felt as if the temperature in the room dropped twenty degrees in a single second. Soulmate may want to kill me. They will hate me. Do terrible things to me. They are suddenly remorseful, but once again turn evil once they lie eyes on me. Fucking hell.

“Who?” Castiel asked. I looked to Sam, who was staring at the ground. I saw it dawn on him, saw the realization flash across his face. His head snapped up to mine.

“Dean.”

***

“Are you fucking joking?”

I flinched at his words. Dean stared- no, glared- at me from his chair. He was chained to a chair in the dungeon. “Precaution” Sam had said. Dean wasn’t too happy with it. I sat in a chair about six feet from him, right outside the devil’s trap. His lip curled into a snarl.

“I’ll fucking kill myself if this bitch is my so called soulmate.”

“I’ve already touched her soul, Dean,” Castiel said. “Just to be sure.”

“Okay? And?” Dean prompted.

“Not only is she cursed, but she’s your soulmate.”

“Fucking hell,” he groaned.

“The archangels placed the curse on her at birth. When they found out she was to be your soulmate, they cursed her in order to keep her from interfering with their plan to have you as Michael’s vessel. If she wasn’t cursed, they foresaw the two of you already together; married and two children.”

My heart ached. I could have had that? Instead, my soulmate had abused, raped, and threatened to kill me on multiple occasions. Great.

“Gag,” Dean said. He spit at the ground towards me. “You told them. You know what would happen if you did. You’re fucking dead.”

“Sam,” I said quietly. I looked up at him. He gently placed a hand at the back of my head in a comforting gesture.

“It’s alright,” he said.

“Now, there is a way to remove the curse. It is painful, and tedious, but it may allow you two to venture forth into a soulmate’s relationship.”

“Fuck that.”

“I can’t.”

Although said at the same time, all eyes turned to me.

“What do you mean you can’t?” Cas asked. Sam sighed.

“Cas, not now.”

“I mean I can’t be with someone who-who was so cruel to me. You don’t know the specifics of purgatory,” I muttered. I squeezed my eyes shut at the thought. My lip threatened to wobble. I sunk my teeth into it. “When this is done, I don’t know if I can be here anymore.”

“Y/n,” Sam said. “When this curse is lifted, the Dean who did those things to you will not exist.”

“It’s true,” Cas said. “The curse alters your soulmate in a way that they’re unrecognizable. It turns their personality completely sour, turning them into a new person. The Dean that will be shown to you when this is over will be the real Dean, the Dean you saw when you weren’t near him. When you’re cursed, it’s like he’s possessed by an alien body.”

“But it’s still his face. His hands. His… everything.” I shuddered. 

“That was fun, wasn’t sweetheart?” Dean said. “I still remember how you felt. Tight virgin… Mmmm. Once I’m free of these chains, I may take you again. Maybe I’ll claim your ass this time.

“Enough, Dean!” Sam barked loudly. “Cas.”

“You ready, Y/n?” Castiel asked. I looked up at him, to Dean, and back again.

“Yeah, just one thing first-” I looked at Dean, right in the eye- “Go to hell you son of a bitch.”

Then Castiel’s hands were on the sides of my head, a blinding pain searing behind my eyes, and all I saw was black.

***

“Sam, how am I supposed to live with it?”

“You just do. It wasn’t you. It was the fucking archangels. They did this to her. Not you.”

“It was still… me. I just couldn’t stop it. God, I can’t believe I…”

“Hey. Stop it. I mean it, okay? You beating yourself up with it will not help you in the end. When she wakes up, she’s going to need us. Okay? She’s going to have to re-learn trust and-and love and learn to trust you.”

“If she wants to leave, we need to let her leave. I don’t blame her if she hates me. You heard what she said, Sam. She said she can’t. And I get it. I understand. I don’t want to put her through anymore pain, okay? She needs to live without fear and without pain and suffering. She’s a good, beautiful person inside and out. She didn’t deserve anything I did to her.”

“It wasn’t you!”

“It was, dammit! It was my hands, my body, my fucking words. God, Sam. We may have been cursed, but it was still me. Okay?”

“You heard Cas. It’s like you were possessed. It wasn’t you. Fucking get it through your thick skull.”

“Tell that to her then. If she believes it, I will. This is about her. Not me.”

I could register their conversation. Feel the dull ache in my head. Smell the faint smell of the lavender incense I used to like to burn. The issue was getting my eyes to open.

With heavy lids, I opened my eyes slowly, struggling to keep them open. The brothers stopped talking and I could feel them staring at me. I groaned as I sat up, rubbing at my temple.

“Hey, sleeping beauty,” Sam said slowly. “You feeling okay?”

“If you consider feeling like you’ve been hit by a train ‘okay,’” I said. “Fuck.”

I looked up at them both, Sam’s eyes warm and lips curled into a sympathetic smile. I forced myself to look at Dean. His eyes were focused intently on his hands, but I could see his jaw clenched and chest moving quickly as he took rapid breaths. His leg bounced repeatedly. He was nervous?.

He looked up at me finally, taking a deep breath, holding it a moment, before letting it back out. “Hi.”

“Hi,” I replied lowly. 

“Should I leave you two alone?” Sam asked.

“No,” I said quickly. Dean winced, but I ignored it. Like hell I would be left alone with him. “Cas did it? The curse is gone?”

Sam nodded. “Yeah, yeah it’s gone. Dean um… Dean’s fixed, I guess you could say.”

“Is he?” I asked bitterly. 

“Y/n,” he said hesitantly. “I don’t have words. I can’t express how sorry I am.” I looked down at my hands. “There aren’t words to describe the guilt I have. I don’t know what to say or do. I’m just so, so sorry.”

I took a deep breath before responding. “At least I know why I loved you for so long.”

That clearly was not what he was expecting to hear. “W-what?”

“Before purgatory, when things didn’t… escalate… I loved you. I loved the you that wasn’t around me. I thought I was fucked up, loving someone who was so cruel to me. But now I know I couldn’t help it. You’re my soulmate. What are the fucking odds?”

His lip quirked slightly. “I… I loved you too. The me that wasn’t around you. It honestly was like two different… me’s essentially. I loved you, and every time I wasn’t around you, I told myself to apologize and fucking fix myself. But then I’d see you and… this anger just consumed me. I couldn’t understand why. And then in purgatory, being around you 24/7, it’s like everything was heightened. I just wanted to make you hurt.”

I flinched and his face softened. 

“Shit, I’m sorry, Y/n.”

“No, I want to hear this. I want to understand what you were feeling,” I said. “Maybe it will help me… differentiate you from, you know… cursed you.”

He nodded before continuing. “Like I said, being around you constantly made everything worse. It was like the anger and hatred all heightened. So the night that I… hurt you… I wanted to cause you such profound pain. But I didn’t want to kill you. I think deep down, even cursed, I couldn’t bring myself to kill you. Although the curse hated you, I loved you. You were always so gentle and kind. You’re easily one of the smartest people I know. You’re beautiful and funny and innocent. I fell in love with you, and the curse despised that. It wanted to hurt you. And it did. And for that, I can not apologize enough. What I did… it’s unimaginable. I am so sorry, Y/n.”

We simply sat looking at each other for a moment. Sam sat uncomfortably beside Dean. He glanced between the two of us.

“You’re stressing me out, Sam,” I said finally. 

“Sorry,” he muttered, looking anywhere but Dean and me.

I cleared my throat and fiddled with the edge of the blanket laid over me. “I… I don’t know what to say, Dean. I really don’t.” 

“Don’t say anything, then,” he murmured.

“I want to forgive and forget. Lord do I want to forget. But this isn’t something you can overcome so easily,” I said. “I was so close to being fixed. I was so much better, but you showing up at my apartment and beating the shit out of me like that… it tore down the foundation I had built back up.”

“I had come to apologize,” he said. “And then I saw you and it all went away.”

“I know,” I told him. “It confused the fuck out of me, your fucking mood swing.”

He whistled. “No shit. It confused me.”

We sat in silence for another moment. I wasn’t scared per se, just uncomfortable. If he was “fixed,” I had nothing to fear. I knew I had nothing to fear from Dean now. However, I would never forget the malice and callousness he showed me for years. That night in purgatory was forever seared into my brain. That trauma and heartache and pain would live with me forever. It didn’t matter if he was fixed or cured or whatever the fuck you want to call it. It still happened. It was still at his hands. That’s not something to simply get over.

“I’m not asking for your forgiveness,” he said softly. “If someday you somehow find it in your heart to forgive me, then that’s your business. I don’t deserve it and I’m not expecting it. But maybe, if you’ll let us try, to start over, someday we could become friends.”

I swallowed thickly. “I don’t know, Dean.”

I watched his face flash with an emotion I couldn’t quite explain, before masking his emotions. “I understand.”

“Maybe,” I told him. “Don’t bank on it.”

Dean gave me a small smile. “I’m in your hands, Y/n. I’ll be here if you want. And if not, then I respect that.”

I yawned then and Sam stood slowly. “Let’s give her some rest, Dean. She’s had a long week.”

Dean nodded at his brother and gave one last look at me.

“I really am sorry, Y/n. I’ll live with this guilt until the day I die. I hope… I hope you find the happiness and peace you deserve.” He gave me a tight lipped smile and closed the door behind him, evidently taking all weight in the room with him. I let out a deep breath that I had been holding and rubbed at my temples. I laid back onto the pillows, letting my eyes trace designs on the ceiling in the dark of the room.

Sleep found me not long after, and no matter what knowledge I had now, or the safety that was Sam across the hall, I had no control of the nightmares that plagued my dreams and danced behind my eyes. Dean Winchester may have been cured. He may be himself around me now. However, what he did will forever live with me, and no angel cure or spell undoing will ever change that. 

And so, I walked through the valley of darkness that were my dreams, and I battled the demons caused by the man who stayed down the hall from me. Yet I slept, knowing that what tormented me behind closed eyes was no longer alive, and the man who had broken through the chains around my heart all those years ago was back and in the foreground. Though I wasn’t sure what my feelings were towards him now, knowing that what he did to me was the result of an archangel curse, I did know that perhaps someday, once we tread through the tumultuous ground that was fear and contradiction, we may learn to live in peace with one another, even if he had loved me and hated me; even if I had loved him and hated him. Yet the most important thing, the thing that allowed me to rest, if not soundly, but at all, was the fact that he no longer wanted me dead, nor did he want my blood on his hands. 

So though nothing was back to normal, and I didn’t plan on being around Dean anytime soon, perhaps I wouldn’t have to look over my shoulder anymore. Maybe I could finally find the solace and peace that I deserved. I think the world at least owes me that.

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[paper-n-ashes]

sparks and embers - chapter 13

Characters: Kylo Ren x Original Female Character, Poe Dameron x Original Female Character

Story Tags: Explicit (18+), Canon Compliant/Divergent (Set after TLJ), First Person POV, Love Triangle, Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Porn with Plot, Hurt/Comfort, Kylo Ren hates Poe Dameron

Chapter 13 - Exposure

Words: 5.5k

Chapter Tags/Warnings: Descriptions medical procedures

Read on AO3 or Start from the beginning

~

“Alex! You’re okay!”

“So are you!” I burst, eyes already wet with tears of relief. My gaze darted over the holoprojection of Poe’s face, his brilliant smile beaming through from lightyears away.

“You have no idea how glad I am to see you,” he grinned, leaning closer into the holo. “We’ve been trying to make this contact for weeks.”

A dazzling joy surged in my chest, so happy that my assumptions of being forgotten were baseless. “Did you complete your mission?”

“You’re talking to the best pilot in the galaxy here.” He shot me a charming wink, maintaining his smile. “Actually made it back a few days ahead of schedule.”

Tears continued to dribble out, attempting to calm myself with a shaky exhale. “I’ve been so worried.”

Poe’s expression turned earnest. “I was going to say the same thing.” His expression fell, looking down. “I didn’t want to leave you there. I’m… I’m so sorry Alex. We’re all sorry.”

“It’s alright,” I soothed. “It was the right thing to do at the time. Did you all safely make it back to the base?”

“Left just in time to avoid their tracking systems. So your sacrifice wasn’t for nothing.”

“Indeed it wasn’t,” a woman’s voice agreed, her instantly recognisable image appearing in front of me moments later.

Leia Organa.

“I’m so glad to finally put a face to the person who saved my best fighters.”

I was awestruck at the sight of the entrancing older woman, with kind yet determined eyes looking right at me. “Well… uh… They were the ones who protected me against the Death troopers. I really didn’t do anything.”

She shook her head, smiling warmly. “We all know what you did, what you’ve endured because of your selflessness.”

“What I’ve endured?”

“We have recently gained a Resistance spy within the First Order, the one who directed you to this holoprojector,” Poe started explaining. “They’ve been keeping an eye on you. Sending us intel about your condition.”

I thought of the blonde, curled hair I glimpsed a few minutes ago, not recalling ever seeing it before. Whoever it was had obviously done his reconnaissance at a distance. “The cell stay wasn’t exactly easy,” I conceded, looking sincerely to Poe. “But I’m managing better now.”

A glaring lie.

“One thing they couldn’t tell us Alex,” Leia started, her expression now troubled. “Is why exactly they’re keeping you on the Finalizer. Our spy hasn’t been able to collect any information about the subject. To me, it seems a little... bizarre you’re being forced to work for them.”

I was stuck on how to begin to formulate an answer when a commotion from behind the two figures made them turn around.

“I heard you finally made contact!” Rey’s voice excitedly cheered from somewhere in the room, her image quickly arriving into view, displaying an enthusiastic grin as she huddled in next to Leia. “Alex! I’m so glad to see you!”

I returned a warming smile, her sunny disposition difficult not to mirror.

“Oh thank the maker,” Finn heaved, sliding alongside Rey, the four figures now pressed closely into the outline of the holo, Poe seeming faintly annoyed at the intrusion. “If I had to live through one more day of Poe ranting about this stealth signal not getting through, I was gonna go insane.”

Poe was already looking to me when I glanced at his face, an unspoken understanding exchanging between us. “Well now since apparently we’re all here,” he huffed, “Can we actually get back to the issue at hand? We’ve only got a limited amount of time before this signal becomes compromised, and the hard-lock on Alex’s comm-room door overrides.”

Leia nodded in agreement and looked at me again. “Do you know why they’re holding you there Alex?”

I was weighted with a heavy dose of terror in giving my answer, my stare shooting immediately to Rey. Her smile had faded, instead she wore an expression of reassurance.

She hadn’t told them.

“I… I… uh…” I stammered, a flurry of emotions spinning in my brain. I was so sure she would have exposed me.

“It’s okay Alex,” Rey insisted, her tone calming. “I know why you’re scared. I completely understand why you kept it a secret. But we won’t harm you because of it. I promise.”

All eyes darted to Rey, each face breaking into confusion.

Poe was the only one to say what they were all thinking. “What are you talking about?”

I felt my chest begin to tighten, oxygen becoming a little harder to grasp onto. “I’m not ready,” I whispered.

Rey’s appearance was comforting, yet serious. “It’s time. You may not be ready, but sometimes we don’t get the choice.”

I inhaled deeply, scrunching my lids closed, trying to build some sort of confidence to reject the instincts and rules I had been abiding by all these years. A lifetime of keeping my gift undisclosed, hiding it away, never getting too close to anyone, had left me more attached to my secret than anything else in the galaxy. Fear had always kept it’s hold, guiding my actions, and it was pulling at me again now, trying to warn me of the danger once more. But if I didn’t tell them, Rey would be forced to.

And above anything else, I wanted Poe to hear it from me.

“I can… use the Force,” I said slowly, most likely out loud for the first time in my life. “I taught myself… how to heal others with it, when they were close to death.” There was an excruciating silence as Poe, Leia and Finn comprehended my answer, each wearing a different expression of realisation. My stare was only focused on Poe, trying to properly gauge his reaction to my admittance of lying. “I didn’t want anyone to find out, so I’d also learnt how to hide it - to prevent other force-sensitive people from feeling my energy, from hearing my thoughts.”

“Why?” Leia asked gently. “Why were you so afraid?”

“My parents were distrustful of those who were attuned to the Force after living through a time where Darth Vader wreaked havoc on the galaxy. They told me old stories of little children being taken away from their families to be trained as Jedi, only to have all of them massacred, even the younglings. They made it seem like the most dangerous thing in the world was being someone with that gift. So even as a child, when I felt the power growing within, I pushed it down, hid it away. I didn’t want to fight in any wars, and I didn’t want to be killed. I just… wanted a normal life.”

Both Rey and Leia were nodding with me as I spoke, seeming to understand my decision.

“That’s why you were on Raxus. So isolated,” Poe murmured, not looking at me.

“Yes. I kept it a secret for as long as I could, all through my training, only using this power sporadically through the years. But I was too close to being caught whilst working in a medical camp on the Inner Rim, during a skirmish the First Order instigated on a planet because of their resources. A Stormtrooper noticed me healing one of the planet’s inhabitants, one whom he was sure he’d rendered on the brink of death. He wanted to take me to his leader, claiming he would have good use for someone with my abilities. I managed to escape him and ran, giving up my job, my home, all without telling anyone where I was going. I settled on Raxus, built my clinic, rarely having to use my power, never really worrying about being caught again. Until... Poe crashed on my doorstep.”

“And you had to use it then, didn’t you?” Rey assumed, obviously a question she had been waiting to ask. I nodded.

Finn’s eyes sparkled. “I knew it! I knew there was a reason he healed so quickly.”

The death stare Rey shot to him was severe in intensity, and under any other circumstance I would have thought it was funny. But my focus was centred completely on Poe’s expression as he remained engrossed in deliberation, his eyes still not reaching back to me.

“Is this why they’re keeping you held on the Finalizer? They wish to utilize your power to heal?” Leia guessed.

“They don’t know about it.”

Each of their expressions turned to disbelief.

“How? Surely Kylo Ren would have rummaged through your mind the minute you got on that ship,” Finn burst, turning to Rey. “That’s what he did to you right?” She nodded in agreement, still looking to me for my answer.

“I was able to keep him out, like I did to you Rey,” I replied.

Rey seemed impressed, and a realisation clicked behind her eyes. “That’s why he won’t let you leave. He hasn’t figured out why."

I became uneasy, suddenly worrying about the blame I’d been placing on her. “He thinks it’s because of you, that you’ve somehow placed a block around my mind. And I... didn’t exactly correct him.”

Rey let a sly smile form on her lips. “Well that would be a valuable thing to make use of, if only it were true.”

Finn appeared dubious. “I still don’t understand why you agreed to work for them.”

“I didn’t really have a choice,” I subtly scowled. “It was that or rot in a cell until Kylo Ren managed to infiltrate my thoughts, learning of my sensitivity to the Force, leaving me in a lot worse situation.”

Finn appeared understanding of that answer. It had been Rey’s own powers that made the man obsessed with capturing her. Leia, who had seemed more troubled while we conversed of the Supreme Leader, finally spoke up again. “How long do you think you can hold yourself against… him?”

“I don’t know.” My heart thumped with anxiety, reminded of his last attempt to penetrate my barrier. Thinking about it, with Poe’s image right in front of me, made a familiar sickness bubble in my stomach. He still refused to meet my gaze, his face pained, making an ache begin to surge in my chest.

“Well we have to make some kind of plan right? To rescue her before that happens? Poe?” Finn insisted, somehow rustling Poe out from his inner turmoil.

“Right. Sure. Of course,” he agreed, only the slightest glance in my direction. I had to clench my teeth to hold back the tears wanting to form in my eyes, his indifferent response causing a wave of guilt to wash through.

Leia could sense the tense energy exchanging between us, even through the holo. “Finn, Rey, let’s start discussing our next move. Away from the holoprojector.” She looked firmly at the two, an unspoken communication. Rey shot me a look of both support and sympathy, understanding exactly why Leia was leading them away.

“Hang in there,” Finn added before standing to leave. “We’ll get you out real soon.”

I tried my best to reply with a grateful smile, but it was hard to form through the nervousness I felt at being alone with Poe after my revelation.

One by one their figures receded from the flickering blue picture, leaving Poe alone once again. I couldn’t bring myself to speak first, unsure of what to say. He felt further away than ever, his touch a memory that continued to fade.

Time was running out, the seconds ticking away as we both waited in stillness for the other to break the strained silence. When his eyes finally drifted to me again, I was wounded by the hurt in them, still acutely obvious in the artificial image.

“Why couldn’t you tell me?” he whispered. “You had all that time.”

I dipped my head, conceding. “I was scared.”

“Scared of what?” he shot with unrestrained exasperation. “Scared that I would continue to be grateful for you saving my life?”

I looked back up, stunned by his angered tone. “I didn’t want anyone to find out, let alone someone who had ties with the Resistance.”

“What did you think I would do, what the Resistance would make you do?”

“Pull me into a war I didn’t want to fight! Lead me into a life I didn’t want to lead!”

I could see his jaw tighten, an attempt in calming himself. “The fact you assume I’m the type of person that would force you into anything, let alone war, even after everything I told you, is insulting.”

“That’s so unfair,” I retaliated, my bottom lip on the edge of trembling. “I didn’t even know who you were when I decided to heal you. I chose to risk everything to keep you alive. Doesn’t that mean anything?”

Poe exhaled hard, the sound crackling in the holo. “I will always be in your debt for what you did. But you still lied to me Alex. To my face. You assumed the worst of me, of all of us. You hid the truth because you thought we would take advantage of your power, not caring about what you wanted, what you could choose.”

“You haven’t lived my life Poe,” I argued, a ferocity beginning to rise. “You haven’t lived with the same fear I have all your life.”

He stared at me through the staticky blue light, silence once again taking over. We were locked in each other’s eyes, even through all the distance separating us.

“You pushed me away because of it, didn’t you?” he asked, the sting of his tone now gone.

I didn’t have to respond for him to know my answer. Suddenly there was a loud click of the door behind me, the hard-lock releasing.

Our time was up.

“I’m sorry,” I implored, only a moment before Poe’s face was snatched from my view, the holoprojector powering down into darkness.

My throat felt tight, a new kind of shame gripping tightly. I’d always been so afraid of sharing my secret, but not for this reason. Not because it would make me a liar in the eyes of the one I longed to be reunited with so badly.

*

I stayed in the darkened comm-room long after the hard-lock was disengaged. No one came to open it. Even if they had, they would have only found my figure sitting against one of the large data configurators, stuck in a motionless trance.

I wasn’t entirely sure what kept me from crying, because there was certainly a hollow sadness sitting on my chest, yet the emotion never seemed to manifest into anything. It was possibly due to the stark realisation that my power, my use of the Force, wasn’t a secret anymore.

And nothing bad happened.

They hadn’t been afraid, judgemental, desperate to use it for their own benefit. They had wanted nothing. Rey even kept it to herself, waiting for me to expose the circumstance in my own time, supporting the decision I’d made long ago to hold the power deep within.

Alongside the sadness, there was an intense shame thumping with my heartbeat. Poe had been right, once again highlighting my selfish and distrustful nature, even to those who didn’t deserve it. He’d always been unconditionally honest, and I had given him lies in return. He was right to be offended, to feel slighted by my deceit, our whole encounter now coloured with my dishonesty.

The only comforting part of the holoprojector discussion, apart from knowing for sure Poe with how we parted, was there was a plan being formed for my rescue. There was still a chance I might make it off this ship, escaping before Kylo Ren saw through my weakening façade. He had gotten closer than ever before in the preceding morning, and it couldn’t be long until he figured out another way to tug at my emotions hard enough to unravel me completely.

My only hope was that it wasn’t my attraction to him, the way he undeniably ignited the fire inside that he continued to toy with in his endeavour to push past the veil over my mind.

*

When I slipped back through the doors of the Prestige ward I was bombarded with questions from Risha and the other staff concerning the incidents of the night, most of them somewhat impressed with my boldness. While the others thought nothing of my return, assuming that for once justice had prevailed and I’d been seen to act in self-defence, Risha was obviously astonished I wasn’t still sitting in my cell. She followed me to the isolation room, where my intubated patient still lay in critical condition, but fortunately alive.

“How did you manage to convince them to let you out?” she questioned. “I thought I’d be visiting you in that cell.”

I read over the observations, the patient’s vitals seemingly stable during my absence.

I would need to thank Irwin later.

“I didn’t have to convince them of anything. My retaliation was considered appropriate by the Supreme Leader, so he allowed my release.”

Risha physically recoiled in disbelief. “There are like, 20 things wrong with what you just said.”

“It was a surprise to me too,” I agreed, continuing to perform my own assessment of the ill man in front of me.

“Alex, I don’t think you comprehend how unusual it is for the Supreme Leader to involve himself with matters like this.”

“I think we can both agree nothing about my situation is usual.”

“I mean, that’s true.” She folded her arms, still doubtful. “But for him to punish the Colonel instead of you. That’s just…bizarre. Snoke would never have been called to make a decision like that, let alone given any care for your wellbeing.”

I stopped, giving Risha’s answer more than a few seconds of thought. “Maybe he wants to be a different type of leader.”

She snorted. “We all know Snoke was the one who seduced him to the dark side, who turned him into what he is today. You think he would cast away his teachings, suddenly show compassion?”

“You’ve obviously given this a lot of thought,” I murmured.

“Well there’s not a lot else to talk about working on this ship. All we debated in the days after Snoke’s death, and Kylo Ren’s appointment as Supreme Leader, was whether his rule would be the same or significantly worse. No one even had the slightest notion he would be… like this.”

I shrugged, walking back to the progress notes and typing my assessment out. “Maybe he thinks if I owe him one I’ll be less likely to cause anymore issues. Maybe he hopes for me to like it here so I won’t attempt an escape.”

Risha tugged at my arm, making me look to her. “Is that something you were considering?” she whispered.

I didn’t want to give any kind of verbal confirmation to that intention, knowing now the ears always listening into our conversations. I also refused to implicate this sweet person in any of my future plans, knowing it was safer to give an overly dismissive answer. “Of course not. I wouldn’t even know how if I wanted to. I’ll just keep waiting it out. I’m sure they’ll grow bored with me eventually.”

Risha certainly wasn’t convinced, but she didn’t dictate that stance. “So how are you feeling? After… you know.”

“I’m alright,” I reassured, which was a blazing lie. “Better now knowing the Colonel won’t be back on this ward again.”

“Me too,” Risha breathed, showing me a small smile. Mild irritation sizzled knowing what it took to finally have someone to act on a predator like Colonel Wynver, still wishing his punishment would have been more severe. But I had to be appreciative that Risha, and the other women who worked here, could have some comfort due to his hopefully permanent absence from their life.

*

I farewelled Risha after making sure Irwin had given her an adequate handover of the nights new admits, noticing that more beds were now filled with those who had contracted the heavily contagious illness. There was a part of me that worried about the situation I would return to at the start of my shift this evening, but I was too exhausted to fret for too long.

I made sure to pick up a meal from the mess hall before returning to my quarters, horrendously starving from a whole shift without a chance to eat. The shower I had after ravenously devouring my food was just soothing enough to put me in a better state of mind before settling under the bed sheets to sleep, even with the ache beating slowly in the background of my mind at how Poe and I had parted from our transmission.

My only hope was Rey could make him see sense in the way I had kept my power hidden, maybe make him understand how harsh the fear was that drove me to lie.

Sleep arrived effortlessly this time, only minutes passing with my eyes closed before I was pulled into slumber.

*

When I felt my eyes open again, it was obvious I was dreaming, standing on a deserted beach, the horizon a flat line against the evening sky, a lone sun close to sinking past the ocean. It felt peaceful, a melting glow spreading through my body, relishing the sunset scene. But soon I realised I’d never been to a place like this before. I’d never even stepped close to a beach in my short life.

It was then I sensed the presence with me, the strange energy hovering far behind my figure. I went to turn, to face the mystery aura, but I was chained to where I stood, my eyes still viewing the yellowed skyline, the faint sound of small waves lapping against the shore. The energy shifted, my focus trained on its movement as it edged closer, finally taking a position just beyond my right shoulder.

“You’ve been doing spectacularly well,” a familiar voice mused.

I sighed. “I wondered when you were finally going to disturb me again. You’ve been unusually quiet.”

I felt a smile cross the figures lips, although I was unsure exactly what its face would appear as.

“You seem to be managing perfectly fine without my assistance. I didn’t feel the need to intrude.”

“As opposed to back on Raxus, when I couldn’t avoid your constant warnings?” I grumbled, recalling the many interruptions the voice had made concerning my growing attachment to Poe.

The energy moved again, my eyes darting to the space beside me, still unable to turn my head to that direction. I was only able to capture the image of a hooded figure stepping into my periphery, its face almost completely hidden by darkened brown fabric. I could just make out the shape of their lips. Human. And feminine, matching the tone I had heard in my mind for almost my whole life.

“You were making poor decisions,” the hooded woman stated. “Decisions that would bring about damaging consequences.”

“Maybe if I knew the consequences you seem to be so concerned with, I would make the right choices.”

She laughed, a low breathy chuckle that was oddly musical. “That’s not how this works. I can’t interfere with your free will.”

“Can you at least tell me what ‘this’ is? Why you’re inside my head?”

I could see her lips purse, a deliberate silence between us. “It’s not time yet. You’re not ready.”

An unwelcome shiver pulsed, irritation swelling once again. “I would ask what exactly I need to be ready for, but I can assume you won’t tell me that either.”

The woman smiled again, white teeth peeking through her lips on the edge of my vision. “I’m glad you’ve come to that understanding quickly.”

I exhaled hard, growing impatient with the interference of my much-needed sleep. “Is there a reason why you’re here now, deciding to show yourself for the first time?”

“I wanted to ensure you knew you were playing your part well, in the hopes it would encourage you to stay on this path.”

I creased my eyebrows, contemplating how any of my actions in the last few weeks would have been appropriate on this journey I was apparently walking. “And I’m assuming you’ll let me know when I might divert from this destination you’ve got in mind?”

“Indeed,” she nodded, her head lifting in time to watch the sun finally fade completely past the horizon, plunging both of us into darkness. “But I have faith you won’t require my help for the foreseeable future.”

I could only hope such a notion was true, this woman’s voice always having been a horrible strain on my thoughts. But without knowing exactly what I was doing so well, I was unsure if I could keep her intrusions from appearing again. I watched with the woman as stars began to glitter through the sky, reflecting on the stilled ocean, making an even bigger vision of night envelop the landscape. A delicate breeze of wind then brushed against my skin, and she was gone, her energy fading instantly, leaving me alone on the beach once again.

The soothing power of the twinkling scene soon made an overwhelming fatigue encircle my brain, and I was unable to prevent my eyelids from drooping closed.

*

It was obvious I’d been rustling in my sleep when I awoke again hours later, sheets twisted haphazardly over my limbs. I’d finally managed a full 8 hours, feeling the most rested I’d been in days. Although waking to an impossibly long list of questions I couldn’t get answers to didn’t exactly make me feel relaxed.

I laid on my back, wishing I could will the woman’s voice back into existence, only wanting to know why and how she housed her spirit inside my mind. The spoken warnings and guidance had always been there, pestering me with advice, sometimes threatening. But I always assumed it was a form of my own conscience, born from an unknown area of my brain that battled its morals against my decision making. Knowing now it was something more than that, that it was something or someone keeping a close watch over my actions, was oddly comforting.

Maybe I hadn’t been alone all of these years.

*

My last overnight duty before returning to the day shift was chaotic to say the least. Almost all beds of the Prestige ward became filled with viral patients, a large portion of the Finalizer Command leaders now in my company. A dark humour would have mentioned to the Resistance yesterday that this sickness was probably more incapacitating than their assaults had ever been, but I honestly didn’t want to place the idea of biological warfare inside their heads.

While my intubated patient had already improved from my last visit, I was now dealing with three more who’s health was extremely critical. I had never been so appreciative for the medical droids who worked here, their ability to recognise deteriorations in vitals being much quicker than my own.

I’d been given a status report from the rest of the ship earlier in the night, which implied the other wards were in much the same position. Although, it was interesting to note the slowing occurrence between Stormtrooper personnel, their armour and helmets seeming to provide an amount of protection that the Command leaders didn’t utilise.

The Bio-med lab had assured they would have a cure and subsequent vaccine within the next couple of days, pressing us to keep as many patients alive in the meantime. Which was easier said than done. Bacta didn’t help in eradicating the virus or it’s symptoms.

Fortunately for my own health I had already been afflicted with a strain similar during an assignment to Lothal in my training days, the illness sweeping through most of our workers, spread by one of the wounded soldiers. Luckily, none of us had been struck down too harshly, and it had left most of us somewhat immune. In knowing this however, I began to feel a looming dread for the medical staff of this ship who most likely had never been exposed before. It couldn’t be long before they themselves would need to be treated, and I prayed it wouldn’t leave me as the sole doctor still well enough to keep working in the time before a cure was found.

In the morning I handed over the night’s events to the day shift, giving strict instructions for the care of the four intubated patients, offering to return if I was required to at any time. I’d been afforded a full day cycle before returning to normal working hours, a day off of sorts, but with little freedoms being afforded to me on this ship to utilise my free time, I was quite comfortable in being called back to ease the load on the Prestige staff.

No such request had been made by the time I’d taken care of my daily routine, sleeping soundly through another 8 hours, this time without the interruption of vivid dreaming. It was early evening, which was only ever evident by the chronometer in my quarters, and I’d found myself too anxious about how the ward was coping to focus on the literature I was attempting to read.

The unease eventually caused me to change into the mundane set of informal clothes the First Order had allowed, wanting to pay a visit to the ward to ease my worry. A pair of black pants hemmed tight against the outline of my legs and a grey sweater which wrapped around my torso, leaving a bow at the back. I hadn’t pulled my hair up, assuming my visit wouldn’t actually require me to do any work. I wanted to appear as casual as possible, hopefully not implying they would be desperate for my assistance.

I was about to slip around the corner of the small lobby outside my quarters, pondering over the fact I’d never seen anyone enter or exit the two other doors, when I was disrupted by the sight of General Hux making his way down the corridor. He was alone, without his usual entourage of Stormtroopers My eyes narrowed, watching him suspiciously as he closed the space between us, noting the stressed expression he wore, his porcelain cheeks slightly red.

“What have I done this time?” I prodded as he stopped in front of me.

“I’m afraid I’m not in the mood for your juvenile mockery Miss Jago,” he snapped. “Come with me, I have a task you are required for.”

I folded my arms. “This is meant to be my day off.”

“You’ll find that I don’t particularly care,” Hux grumbled. It occurred to me how unwilling he seemed to be here, most likely a stern order behind his reason for being in my presence. “You don’t have a choice in this matter. Now follow me.”

“Could you at least tell me what you’re hauling me away to do?”

He didn’t stop his exit. “You’ll find out soon enough. I’m not going to ask you again. Follow me.”

It was curiosity that made me obey his demand, beginning to step behind the irritating man as he led me to an unspecified objective. When we started veering towards a familiar turbo-lift, noting him pressing the floor I’d memorised from the previous day, my whole body pulsed with anger.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I seethed, looking to Hux with a burning contempt.

“It was an order,” he replied sharply.

“It always is,” I fumed, leaning into the durasteel wall of the turbo-lift.

What did he want with me now?

Hux stormed ahead when the doors opened, my shorter strides barely able to keep up as we walked through the darkened hallway. With a simple wave of his hand on the security panel the blast doors opened to the room I had previously been forced into, the huge open view of endless space still taking my breath away.

Hux didn’t stop in the lounge area, instead swerving to the door at the far left, pressing a code quickly into the lock, waiting for me to enter first once it opened. I looked at Hux quizzically before moving past, taking a moment to register the scene I’d been made privy to.

My eyes scanned over Kylo Ren’s figure, now hunched into a ball underneath the sheets of his bed, a sheen of sweat noticeable on his forehead even from the doorway. He was asleep, however it didn’t appear even close to restful, his breaths loud and heaving.

“The Supreme Leader appears to be afflicted with the virus,” Hux stated in a hushed tone, still emotionless as ever. “He requires the care of a medical professional until his health returns to normal. I think you can understand the confidential nature of the task I’m giving to you.”

I nodded slowly, still stunned at what I’d walked into. “But why me? Surely there are other doctors who could do this. Ones who aren’t his hostage.”

“That is most definitely true,” Hux agreed. “But he asked for you.”

~

Next Chapter

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[lyssismagical]

can you do 14 with reid and a person of your choice?

14 laying your head on someone’s shoulder

Spencer Reid & Luke Alvez (Post S12)

tw canon-typical violence, past-drug use

They didn’t talk about whatever it is between them.

Luke had been there through the worst year of Spencer’s life, stood with his hands wrapped around the bars of the Mexican holding cell, threatened people to keep Spencer safe, had carefully applied arnica to the bruises littering his skin after getting out of prison.

It wasn’t like Spencer could go to anyone else. Morgan was too far, JJ had her boys, Tara and Rossi would get uncomfortable in the face of his trauma – not their fault, of course, but he wouldn’t do that to him – Garcia was the opposite problem, she would probably cry and coddle him and suffocate him, and Emily… she had enough on her plate, as is.

Luke was nearby and kind and Spencer knew he’d be up when he ended up outside his door at just past midnight.

He wasn’t even sure how Luke would help him, all he knew was that he couldn’t spend another second in his apartment, walls caving in.

He doesn’t hesitate to knock, but he freezes up when the door opens. It’s too vulnerable, his skin crawls at the idea of letting another person in only to get heartbroken all over again. He doesn’t know if he can handle that on top of everything he’s been through.

“Spencer?” Luke looks exhausted, blinking blearily through the crack of the door. Roxy whines behind him. “What are- Do we have a case?”

“No,” he says but doesn’t elaborate. He shifts on his feet, prepared to turn and disappear at any sign.

Luke stares at him for another long moment, profiler eyes sliding over Spencer’s body. And finally, he opens the door a little wider, stifling a yawn. “Come in.”

Roxy stays back, pacing the floor as she waits to be allowed to sniff Spencer.

“You want a coffee? Tea? Something to eat?”

Spencer tugs at the ends of his hair as he follows into the kitchen. Luke was clearly about to go to bed, wearing a pair of loose plaid pyjama pants and a tight white tank top, and now Spencer’s here, interrupting and ruining his night and god, he hates himself.

“I should go home,” he blurts.

Luke pauses, sets down the mug he’d pulled from the cupboard, turns on Spencer. “Do you want to go home?”

“No.” It’s not like he could lie to Luke.

“Okay. Do you want some tea?”

It’s that simple to Luke.

It almost makes Spencer feel small, childish, like his insecurities and nerves makes him less than Luke somehow.

He accepts the mug that gets pressed into his hands nonetheless, barely reacting when Roxy gets impatient and starts sniffing at his shoes.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve asked for help.”

He knows that’s not where he should start, but he needs Luke to understand how much trust he’s putting in his hands, just how precious it is that he’s holding.

“I know.”

Spencer folds himself into the corner of the couch, cradling the warm mug against his chest. He doesn’t look at Luke, can’t bear to see him.

“I don’t exactly have a good track record of the people I care about sticking around.”

“And that makes it hard to let yourself care about others and even harder to let others care about you.”

Roxy comes around and sits by Spencer’s side of the couch, resting her chin on his feet.

He doesn’t know what he wants, what he needs, what to ask for.

“I’m not going anywhere, Spencer,” Luke says.

“I never thanked you for everything you did for me this past year… You saved my life by talking to Shaw. You helped get me out of there. Thank you. I don’t know- I wouldn’t have made it much longer in a place like that.”

He’s getting choked up, just thinking about all those months spent behind bars, scared and alone and hopeless. A bit of tea hits his chin when his hands tremble, and he quickly takes a few sips to cover it up, savouring the burn in the back of his throat.

“You don’t have to thank me for trying to take care of you.”

“You were the only person this whole year that’s treated me like a human being.”

Spencer sets the mug down on the table to curl into himself a little tighter, hugging his arms around his waist to try and provide himself some comfort.

“You deserve a lot better than you’ve been given.”

“I was addicted to heroin, Luke!” He doesn’t know why he’s so upset. Luke doesn’t get it, doesn’t understand what he’s trying to say. “I killed Nadie Ramos. I stabbed myself to get solitary confinement. I nearly let my mom die because my anger got the best of me. What makes me better than every other man behind those bars?”

Luke looks almost scared and he’s so hesitant when he says, “You don’t really believe that, do you?”

“What am I supposed to think?” He’s on the verge of a complete breakdown, one that he’s scared he’d never recover from. “That I’m better than them because I got special treatment for making some guy happy?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I was friends with Gideon’s son long before I got into the academy. I got special treatment from Gideon for convincing Stephen to try talking to him. So because I have some stupid badge, I’m better than every other criminal? I committed crimes, Luke. I killed an innocent woman, I was high and carrying illegal substances… And because I was friends with someone at CalTech, I get off free?”

Luke’s face falls in horror. “You earned your spot on the team just like everyone else, Spencer. You’re a genius, but more than that, you’re selfless and kind-hearted and honest. You were targeted by an unsub who manipulated your perception with drugs.”

“So we can brush off the heroin this time because it wasn’t my fault, but what about ten years ago? I was addicted to heroin, nobody was making me take it.”

“The unsub got you addicted to his drug of choice. How is that your fault?”

“It’s my fault I didn’t stop! It’s my fault that I, a federal agent, had a drug dealer on speed dial for over a year. It’s my fault that I was stupid enough to walk into his trap in the first place, to not be able to get out on my own. It’s my fault I was in Mexico, vulnerable, and alone.”

Luke shakes his head imploringly. “You know it’s not like that. If you were profiling yourself like any other victim, is that really what you’d come up with?”

Spencer flinches at the word victim. Never, not even when he was twelve and tied naked to the football post, not when he was held hostage by Hankel, not when he was stuck in that church with Cyrus, not when he was shot in the knee, not when he was beat half to death in prison, never did he consider himself a victim.

He’s inches away from falling into a dark inescapable abyss.

“What you went through, what you survived, doesn’t and will never make you a bad person.”

It’ll take a lot more than one conversation on Luke’s old grey couch to make him really believe any of it is true. It’ll take a lot more than this for Spencer to open-up to him without one foot out the door. It’ll take more than this to fix what’s broken.

But the least Spencer can do for tonight is allow himself the one thing he’s been craving.

Slowly, carefully, like he’s afraid of being rejected, he shifts closer to Luke and lets his head fall down onto Luke’s shoulder, hiding his face away as his shoulders shudder.

Luke gently wraps an arm around his shoulders, hesitates, and then pulls him closer. “You know it’s okay to cry. I won’t judge you.”

And he does, tears wetting Luke’s shirt and skin, shoulders wracking under Luke’s hands, breath hitching in his chest. And he cries, feeling safe for the first time in too long.

[shadowdianne]

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Kisses with their last dying breath

A/N So, apparently, my beloved anon, you are none other than @delirious-comfort. With that in mind I must remind you all that this time I wasn’t the one going for angst. The prompt specifically requests for it so, pointing fingers, please go and talk to AJ about this one

Having said that. Since you don’t do shipping, but merely prompts -your words, not mine xd- I had a little bit of a discussion with myself on what would be the best angle. Try at Cissamione even though we both know that’s kind of stagnant at this point? Try for bellamione even though we are painfully aware I don’t actively ship them minus some very few cases? Go for some of your most recent pairings you are currently reading about? I could but I lack some general background that while interesting would account for some hours of studying about the pairing in particular that would still make it sound fake-y. Should I go for SQ even if we both know how utterly burnt out I’m from the fandom in general? Should I go for some of my OCs? To be honest. I really would like to present them in society so to speak -lol- but I’m not entirely sure how to go about that or if anyone would be interested PLUS there would not be the emotional impact other pairings would have since you don’t know them.

At the end I went for SQ. I’ve killed them both enough times to be a familiar territory for the two of us lol. And let’s be honest; destroying Regina with feelings is something I’ll always enjoy if only for the multiple pathways that opens to her way of dealing with grief.

Anyway, I’ve rambled enough, on with this

PS: Quiet warning: There’s mention of hospitals on this one. I’m obviously not a doctor so I’ve decided to take some liberties here and there but considering the amount of bullshit we are all experiencing at the moment if you feel like passing on this one I’d understand. This goes both to AJ here or any other reader. AJ if you don’t like this version I have a much more magicky one drafted I can whip out.

The beeping of the machines is incessant and there is a stupid comfort in them Regina has grown to hate. Their sound is a painful reminder of those who get to keep on breathing, no matter how labored. She had learnt, years ago, how death can make everyone selfish, painfully selfish, but there’s still a freshness to it that makes her take breaths deeper than she would usually go for if only to remind herself that the machines don’t beep for her. Not yet, after all.

Her hands are still and clammy, cold having already crept out over her fingertips for the number of hours she has taken the position she is now in. She could move, she knows that, but the pain is also a bringer of comfort since they keep on holding, fastened around much more fragile fingers that keep their own curve against them: an instant magic traveling from hers to them in a never-ending circle. She has wondered, more times than she is able to count since days are a blur of repetition she wishes would be the byproduct of a curse, about that lifeforce, that link, she has wished for the ability of her fingers and her touch alone to heal and cure and bring back. She does it again now, out of the play for the mental exercise than anything else since morphine has been administrated steady enough now to come to the fact that there’s very little in regards of acting beyond the act of waiting itself.

She has come to despise how clocks are incessant and ever-present no matter where she is at. The continuous trickle of seconds, minutes, and hours another reminder, a threat, that she cannot really stop. No matter how long she may try to run away from time, it has the ability to come back to her, to the background of her mind, in where she is capable of listening to its faint ticking, always reminding her, always making her feel as if time is as still as water can be, as running as dry sand over her closed fists.

The smell of the hospital is another thing she is familiar with. Was familiar with. But there’s an acute lack of difference around it. Regina loathes this, she would love to be able to sense more, to see more, to see a distinct difference she could cling to. There’s none, not really. Magic is the only thing keeping her sane and she has come to resent it too, if only for the way its mingled, mixed, with that scent that she has come to link with Emma much more than cinnamon, than burning comfort, than clean blankets, than comfortable afternoons.

She should be the one going first. She had muttered it through gritted teeth as they had first heard the news: both Henry and her. Whale had been apologetic, soft, but the impact of his words had still dented them both. Snow and David had been much louder than they had been but, at the end, they had always been louder. Wasn’t anything else they could do?

Palliatives, the doctor had said, and his eyes had been clear, as if waiting but Regina had known that he felt reluctant about it. How much would be for their benefit, how much for Emma’s? The question had haunted her, no true answer behind the words. It was all about selfishness, about selflessness? Did it really darken her heart wishing for anything, anyone, that would be able to make time run slower and slower still? The quiet understanding of not having much more to do came with that precise ticking; pain still blazing through her every move.

“It will hurt less and less.” She had tried to tell herself, Henry, but while true in some aspect she still couldn’t quite place, it really didn’t matter. The bouts of pain were there, after all, and would continue to be.

Emma had been lucid sometimes after the news, her body seeming to give up on her a day, keep her standing the next. There were minute changes, of course: a glimpse of her eyes, a way of smiling, a way of holding her hands, always in the same angle product of the tubes, the hospital bed, the height of the mattress, the height of the chair. At first she had grabbed to them, hoping that they would signal something. At the end, truly, they hadn’t.

Was it selfish for her, then, to work with and against time at the same time? Was it selfish for her to bury herself in memories as they superimposed themselves with the image of Emma, consumed Emma, who kept on cracking jokes whenever she had enough presence of mind to do them? She hadn’t truly spoken about it, about not waking up at some point, of the way her body felt always cold now, of how magic felt weaker now, of how her scent was mixed with that awful awful odor of hospital and sickness.

It would be easier, Regina said despite knowing it wasn’t true, would never be, if there truly had been something that she could focus at: something to name and seek revenge against.

“Her entire body is failing her.” Whale had said and Regina had nodded, knowing I already, fearing for it already. Emma had been silent that day, lucid, capable of talking and remembering them all well enough to be able to sense what their contrite faces screamed rather than whisper.

Regina had learnt quite quickly that she wasn’t a whisper type of person. She understood why Henry did it, why David did, why Snow would only if doctors were present and explaining things to them, but she hated it. She would rather have Emma listen to her voice until there was nothing left to say. Silences were more difficult to bear.

Except now, of course, in where time is running thin enough to be translucent and the hours are minutes that pass through as the trickling of the morphine keeps its work. She is not able to see it, of course, the liquid, since it had already been administrated and the last dose had been given a few minutes ago, but her mind keeps conjuring the image up, as a way of understanding, maybe, of picturing what she is not able to.

She feels a tap of her hands, more of a shiver going up her cold fingers and she focuses back on what laid around her rather than solely on Emma’s face. Still had come with different descriptors the longer the time passed. Still did not mean completely, there always would be some tension around her eyes, around her mouth, the way her cheeks sat atop the bones. Completely relaxed muscles meant something else, something that she kept on searching for, dreading it. There were times in where the muscles changed positions, quick trembles that created a smile there, a wink here, words that would be understandable or not at all and Regina had lost count of the promises -empty, full of anger and ire and fire and heat and cold and tiredness- she had screamed to time.

They had taken away the nasogastric tubes, there would not be any food to be given, after all, and all medications were already via catheter, so she is able to see words forming around Emma’s lips, as if they are drawn around them rather than being pushed away from slowly falling lungs. It takes some time: throat is still sore, energies are running low, but Regina had grown accustomed to the language that came with it all. She moves closer, closer still, not quite registering the whimper that comes from Henry’s side of the room [He refused to touch Emma sometimes and the notion hurt Regina, but she knew she couldn’t quite make him do it if he himself wasn’t able to and the dichotomy of both statements tore her apart if she looked into them long enough] and pushes through tired eyes and sore muscles.

“Would you kiss me?”

A bubbling tear echoes through Regina’s own vocal cords, but she swallows it down knowing this would not be the time for them. She is strong, isn’t she? She is, she needs to be. And so, she glances back to Henry who is biting on his fist and staring at his mothers, at loss.

Time, damned time. Snow and David are asleep, having been reminded that they had a child to attend to, having asked, pleaded almost to be let known if anything changed. Regina has been reluctant on understanding what anything truly meant. She now eyes back to Emma, at the way her eyes were clouded, and she motions to Henry for the phone.

“Call them.” She asks and she knows with distinct clarity that there would be a much more time to talk and chat and listen later, but she feels like she isn’t able for any of it now. Henry flees for the call, his own lips quivering, and Regina eyes Emma once more, at the way lines of magic run through her skin, at the way her face tilts towards her, at the starched sheets and the white and paleness of it all. She drinks on it until she feels that there is nothing else to gorge with only to realize there is. There always will be more.

They had had their time, hadn’t they? But not enough, not close to it, and she rages once more as she keeps on eyeing Emma, at the question that still floats between them with Henry still muttering on the phone and Snow’s voice a high-pitched scream that speaks of quick movements and clothes thrown over bodies still tired and sluggish due to sleep.

Had she known it? She would then later be asked, and she would not be able to respond without giving away too much, far too much of a moment she felt unprepared to explain with words that would never reach between the gaps she would leave out of her answer.

She moves closer, her elbow protesting and snapping in place as she takes everything in, as she breaths, as she counts the beeps that come from some place at her back, echoing through corridors that she had always felt empty but now feel full.

Her lips taste different, the movement that come from them a reflex more than a reply, but she clings to them as she raises her free hand and caresses the other’s face, grateful for the clinking sound of her promise ring as hands are freed and the two rings touch. She wishes to be able to feel everything but there is only the sense of touch that is still on her as the kiss lengthens and so, as she moves, tears burning, she knows that she ought not to look because if so she will fall.

[Henry looked, Henry held her as she fell backwards, as quiet as possible, as burning as she felt. David and Snow arrived late, Emma’s magic gone, nothing lingering but the purple of Regina’s own color, now muted, darker, she cried while wishing for a razor blade to open her up, to reflect the pain in a way that felt proportional. But there was only vastness.

And a kiss. A promise.]

A goodbye

[blackvelvetwriteson]

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐘: 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟏

                                                      (  ~ Sero Hanta x Gender Neutral                                                              Reader Insert ~ )

GENRE: Smut || NSFW

FANDOM: Boku No Hero Academia (My Hero Academia)

TRIGGER WARNINGS: SMUT! Oral (Sero receiving; Reader-Chan giving), face fucking, mention of asphyxiation, dacryphilia, brief talks of bondage, humiliation, and slight voyeurism. 

SUMMARY: Sero Hanta is your CEO of Intelligence Distribution (pretty much) and Reader-Chan (you) are his secretary. He catches you lusting after him and decides he needs to punish you for it.

Author’s Note: HEY! I tried to implement the headcanon that Sero is hispanic because it’s a very common one and one of my FAVORITE HCs for our underrated baby Sero, so I added in some spanish as well. While I’m hispanic descent, I’m not fluent in spanish so I sort of went off of translations from friends and what I learned for myself from family. Also, my device is absolute shit at picking up accent marks so if there are some tildes on some n’s and not others, I REALLY apologize! Thank you!

WORD COUNT: 3323

(Headers are mine, but the art inside of them are not! Please don’t steal or repost without credit!)

     He was fairly laid back as the CEO of Business and Intelligence. Since he didn’t necessarily have a quirk that anybody’d want in battle, he still took on hero work, but his main job was climbing the top of the food chain in Intel and informational trading and that’s exactly what he did. He was the biggest name of the company both for being fairly charismatic but also being a fair leader and his hero work on the field particularly in search and rescue missions. He had a bit of a twang when he got mad, but he rarely got mad so nobody ever really heard it. There was really no doubt about it that he was attractive; he was hella attractive at that. Especially in his trademark black suit with sleek shoes that was all brought together by the golden trimmings found throughout his outfit. He had a smile that could kill, very keen dark brown eyes, his soft hair often slicked back against his head— and word around the building was that he was considering an undercut style. He also had piercings, however he only wore his outer lobe bands when he wasn’t on duty, and he was complete with a tattoo of roses that rose up his neck just a little and was a sort of bicep sleeve. There was really no doubt that he was the best, and he knew it too even if he chose to stay humble.

And him being humble- paired with his amazing good looks- is exactly what you loved about him. He was literally perfect to you. There was only one issue; he hadn’t really noticed you until recent years.

Let’s take it back for a little, shall we? 

The two of you had been in the same class for awhile; since elementary school at least. You were always in his class and he watched him grow up right before your eyes. There wasn’t a time in your life that you hadn’t loved him in all honesty. The way that he was always so selfless, the way that he was intelligent, and quiet, and oh so handsome at all times. You’d been friends for a year and then you both fell off to acquaintances and then eventually your contact had diminished. You’d even went to UA together and that was the first time you’d been separated. While he got into Class 1A, you were stuck in General Studies and befriended by both Kaminari and Kirishima who often made their special appearances in the complex. It was through them that Sero rediscovered you and even when he asked for your name and it broke your heart, he bought a small bracelet the next day to sort of apologize. You often have lunch with him and the group, linger back after meetings, and even exchange short texts. You both worked on projects with each other all of the time and whenever business leave was scheduled, it was you who went with him.

That’s exactly how you worked your way into being Sero’s secretary. And you’d started to regret it.

Now, it wasn’t that he was bad to you or anything, actually it was quite the opposite. He was way too good to you, and sometimes you felt as if this was a joke or some sort of dream. You had to see that magnetic smile every single day directed at other people instead of you, you had to listen to him flirt sometimes to get his way, embracing others in those strong arms of his, sit in on presentations in which he makes eye contact with the others just a little longer than yours. You were jealous, and there’s really no denying it, and anybody that didn’t have smoke in their eyes could see it too. Even when he was just sitting there doing work you couldn’t help but to waste away your minutes, hours, days- any amount of time before you were caught- to just stare at him and muse over him. 

Of course today was no different, your thighs pressed together as you nibble on your lip, your face and the tips of your ears practically on fire as you let your mind wander. You wondered how it’d feel if you were his, his meaty fingers shoved in your mouth as he pulled you closer and made you his, or if you heard him say “I love you” in that smoky tone of his, or if you were allowed so close to him that the sweet scent of his cologne overwhelmed you. You thought about what’d it’d be like to tangle your fingers with his hair and straddle his lap, grinding on top of him in his office chair, or if you unbuttoned his shirt and got to marvel at that tattoo of his. You hadn’t caught yourself whimpering as you grinded into your seat, trying to squeeze your thighs together more to get more friction, your eyes glistening as you drooled and bit at the end of your pen. He was watching, and so was Kirishima and Kaminari. The two visitors looked at each other with wide eyes and Kaminari had tried to get your attention by snapping and whistling a little, waiting until Sero was looking away to toss a pen in your direction but it was no luck. Sero’s face carried a bit of a blush to it, Kirishima and Kaminari actually worried about you and how Sero would react. 

“Please touch me there,” you whisper out to your fantasy as you gripped the desk and rutted into your chair a little more, a soft squeak leaving you as you slap a hand over your mouth. Your whole body trembled as you practically came in your seat, one hand trailing over your sex from over the clothes, pressing and pulling, your eyes tearing up practically as your fantasy was about to come to a close. You whine softly and it happens finally. You cum and your back arches as you let out a soft moan into your hand, moaning out your boss’s name, setting your head down trying to bring yourself down from your high afterwards without noticing how much attraction you’d drawn to yourself as you quivered in your seat.

“Escucha, por favor,” Sero said quietly dismissing both Kirishima and Kaminari and they quickly left the area while Sero walked over to your desk and gently tapped it with his fingers. “Y/N. A word please,” he said in the most respectful of tones, his eyes though fiery were calm even despite you relieving yourself in front of guests. You look up and him and your mind’s haze instantly clear and within seconds you were on your feet, your cum running down your leg as you whine softly. His strong hand takes your wrist and he practically drags you into his office, closing the blinds and closing his door, pushing you flush into the door after it was closed. You heard his heart beating in his chest as his cool breath hit your ear, his hands on the door beside your waist as he reprimanded you, and of course you forgot entirely to tell him about Kaminari and Kirishima’s presentation that was supposed to happen in 10 odd minutes. You were too dazed to even think too hard about it as you felt Sero’s warmth against you. You looked down and then up again to meet his gaze, his stern gaze meeting your eyes, his eyebrows knit, his breath even and shallow. 

“You know you’re the top worker in this… Esteemed company, right, Y/N?” He spoke softly with a sharp edge to it as his eyes narrowed out a little. “The way that I’m berating you,” he said as he looked down at your legs pressing together trying to stand upright. “This isn’t a punishment for you, is it,” he said softly as he tilted your head up, biting his lip as he shook his head a little. “Since you like to be… Humiliated.. Talked down to like this… I’ll give you a treat then, hm?” He let go of your hand and he walked over to his chair, sitting in it with a soft groan, his eyes closing as he leaned back completely. He remained like this for a few minutes before he looked over at you.

“Is my schedule cleared for the day, carino,” he asked with a sweet smile, his voice husky and low as he looked you over. As you observed, you noticed his bulge growing against his tight slacks, but he still kept that sweet innocent smile as he looked you over with a pretty glint in those dark eyes of his.

“U-Um… W-Well Ei and K-Kaminari have a p-presentation for you in about… T-Ten or so minutes,” you stutter out as you play with the fabric of your pants. He raised his eyebrow and let out a soft groan before closing his eyes again, his hands folded neatly over his stomach as he shook his head slowly. 

“So you’ve known about this presentation… And you wait until 10 odd minutes beforehand to tell me about it? How unprofessional of my little secretary,” he said, a hint of mock disappointment in his voice. You looked at him wide-eyed and before you could even speak, he held his hand up and he smirked a little with a soft breathy condescending laugh. “Since you were so lusty for me at your desk just a few… Short moments ago, I reckon you won’t have an issue with praising me until your friends come in to give me their presentation,” he drawled out in that voice of his with a shudder running down his spine. As If you were in a trance, you walked over to him and were on your knees in less than a minute, his eyes opening halfway to lazily look down at you, a soft smirk carrying his lips as he gazed at you unbuckling his belt, just the sound of the metal clinking against each other making him harder. Then, your skilled fingers worked at his button and the zipper until you were gazing at your clothed prize. You watched his bulge twitch in his pants before you reached for his cock and he swiftly took your chin in his hands and looked up at you, zipping his pants up with his free hand.

“Ay corazón,” he said softly as he stroked your jawline with his thumb. “There’s no need to move so fast,” he whispered softly. “Don’t make me use my tape on you,” he said with another condescending chuckle melting in your ears. You whine quietly and nod as you gently kiss against his bulge with your hands behind your back, your teeth gently nipping at the cloth over the prize you wanted so badly. He leaned his head back and a soft moan left his lips as he spread his legs even more for you, his eyes rolling back lazily in his head. “Joder que se sienta tan bien (fuck, that feels so good),” he moaned out in a quiet whisper under his breath as he felt precum leaking from his tip as he whined quietly. “With your teeth,” he breathed out softly as his chest started to heave and fall, his eyes pressed closed. “U-Unzip my pants with your teeth,” he moaned out softly with a soft shuddery groan, one of his hands moving to your head, pressing your face against his bulge, his hips trembling as he fought back the urge not to buck his hips into your face. You continue to kiss and nibble against his bulge, practically drooling over his pants with a soft groan. 

You gently make it to the zipper of his pants and the sound of your teeth hitting the metal making him shudder in his seat. You try to pull the zipper down and it slides out of your mouth and then you try again, your face pressing into his bulge making him jolt and tilt his head back, you whining quietly as the zipper slipped out of your mouth again. 

“Está bien, mi amor. Lo estás haciendo muy bien (It's okay my love. You're doing just fine),” he breathed out shakily as he pet the back of your head and pulled you into him more. “Just try again,” he whispered softly. “You’re okay, there’s no rush,” he said quietly as you took the zipper in your mouth again and you wait for a moment with glassy eyes. “Wait,” he said softly. “Go slow,” he said softly as you slowly pulled the zipper down with your teeth. “That’s right, carino,” he whispered quietly as he felt his cock’s restraints loosening, one of his legs trembling a little as he ached his back some. “F-Fuck,” he whined softly as he closed his eyes and gently massaged the back of your head. “Baby,” he whined softly as you finally unzipped his pants all the way, his legs fighting being put together as he let out a low sharp breath. “No hands… Don’t use your hands,” he said softly as he moved his hand down in front of your face to pull his cock out of his slacks with a soft groan. “I gave you a little help,” he murmured quietly. “Now worship it,” he said softly as his tone grew more needy. 

You did as instructed, your eyes looking up at him as he tilted his head back, your tongue taking small laps at the base of his cock. He trembled as he gently ran his hand behind your head, his hips gyrating slowly as you whine and kissed his balls. He whined and he trembled as he ran one of his hands over his collarbone and he shook his head slowly. “T-This is a m-much better I-investment of c-company t-time, carino,” he said softly as a louder moan left him, his eyes peering down at you as you took his balls in his mouth and massaged them with your tongue, his eyes fluttering and fighting to stay open as he whimpered softly. He tried not to get too loud because of the other work and activity going on in the complex. 

“Oh, Dios mío (Oh my God),” he moaned out quietly as you licked and kissed your way to his tip glistening with precum, his eyes widening as you sucked his tip in your mouth, his legs trembling, his moan getting trapped in his throat as he pushed your head down on his cock. You started to gag a little and he felt your throat constricting around his cock again, his hand gripping at your hair as he forced his whole cock in your mouth, your eyes tearing up as you gagged, choked, and continued to moan around his cock, tears brimming your waterline though you tried to stop them from streaming down your cheeks. 

“¡Oh Dios mío, oh Dios mío, oh Dios mío, joder, joder, joder! Chúpalo así... Dios, se siente tan bien (Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, fuck, fuck, fuck! Suck it just like that- God it feels so good),” he moaned out loudly as he bucked his hips into your face trying to edge himself, but since it’d been so long since he was able to cum, he was already close, his body practically convulsing in his office chair as he moaned out and he lost control of his body and his volume, thrusting hard into your mouth as you whine out and rest your hands on his knees, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you whine out, not too choked to where you had to tap out, but choked enough to have you wheezing and sucking down his cock nicely, your fingers coming up to massage his balls as he tried not to cum, his hand still keeping you choked on his cock as the other scratched at his arm chair his moans and choked gasps filling the room louder. 

“C-Cum-“ he choked out as he shook his head. “C-Cumming! I-I’m c-cumming,” he whined out, his abs clenching as he dealt hard thrusts into your mouth, his eyes wide as tears brimmed his eyes, his cock practically balls deep in your mouth as the door swung open, Kirishima and Kaminari standing in the doorway as Sero filled your mouth with his sticky seed, his eyes finally letting those sweet tears escape as you whined around the base of his cock, gagging and choking, wheezing as he trembled in his seat, Spanish praises and curses mixing what the moans that spilled from his mouth.

“C-Chúpalo así. ¡Me estoy corriendo! ¡Me estás haciendo correrte tan jodidamente duro! ¡Oh, D-Dios mío, lo e-estás haciendo tan j-jodidamente b-bien! ¡Estoy sacudiendo el carino, c-cógeme, cógeme! E-Eres mío, toda mío… ¡Propiedad de la c-compañío! (Suck it down just like that. I'm cumming! You're making me cum so fucking hard! Oh my god you're doing so fucking good! I-I'm shaking baby fuck me, fuck me! You're mine, all mine... C-Company property!)” He whined out as your mouth was filled with his cum, his body tensing up before he let your head go and he leaned against the office chair trying to come down from his intense high, his cheeks reddened and dampened with his tears of satisfaction, some of his hair that was slicked back now in his face as it should be, his toes curled, his fingers buried into the arm of the chair, his legs trembling as he bit his lip. You slowly take his cock from your mouth and into your hands, your eyes glazed over as you stared up at your boss with absolute love and adoration in your eyes, how rough but caring he was with you, how beautiful he looked in this moment, that sexy voice of his, how pretty he looked with his cheeks tear stained just like yours. He looked down at you, his breaths hollow and shaky as he gently took your chin in his strong slender hand, his thumb stroking your cheek and jawline as he sniffed and flashed that pretty smile at you.

“Open wide,” he whispered softly as he tilted his head a little. “Let papi see how much he filled that sweet mouth of yours,” he said softly in that deep voice of his. You did as told and opened your mouth, his cum mixed with your saliva painted your mouth white, the thick serum spilling out of your mouth and down your chin. He gently stuck his fingers in your mouth, scooped out a little cum, and sucked his fingers clean with a soft hum. Your eyes widened as you watched him, Kirishima and Kaminari’s faces red, jaws dropped, and eyes bugged as they stared at the scene before them. Sero knew they were there but he didn’t care, and you tried your hardest not to look at the two to spare yourself a little bit of the humiliation that you were already feeling. 

“Good job,” Sero said with a sly smirk, not caring that cum was dripping down your face and into your lap, not caring that his cock was out for them to see, his eyes glistening with mischievous thoughts, his thumb gently smearing the cum and saliva over your lips. You whine softly and grab his wrist, then he lets out a small laugh as he blushes a little and licks his lip. “A promising future in the company you hold indeed,” he said before looking at your best friends and nodding at them. “Buenas tardes (good afternoon),” he said as he let your chin go as a devious smirk played at his lips. “I heard there was a presentation for me? Why don’t we get started, hm,” He said as he looked down at you and he furrowed his eyebrows a little. “As for you, cariño…. We aren’t done yet.”

[winchesterfanatic1967]

With You By My Side Part 1

Pairings: Dean x Reader 

Word Count: 1,269

Warnings: None 

The Reader’s Pov

When dad had to kill the demon that was possessing my mother, i was really little when it had happened so i don’t remember much. But what I do remember is him turning to the whiskey and moving around all the time. When we finally settled in our house in South Dakota, I was 10 years old.

By then i still went to school, and when i got older i learned about what really goes bump in the night. He taught me how to shoot when I turned 12. I read a lot of lore books because I'm a bit of a nerd for research. I helped him with hunts when I turned 14 and did my first vamp kill at 15.

Between all that I met the Winchesters. John Winchester used to drop them off at Bobby’s when they had a hunt together, which was quite often. During that time I became close to them. Sam became the older brother I never had. While as far as Dean goes….that’s a different story.

I started to develop a crush on Dean when I turned 16. He always treated me like a little sister that he would protect as much as he would protect Sammy. It became annoying at times but I always appreciated the kindness he showed. When i got sick, he would make me tomato rice soup like his mother had made him. When my first boyfriend at 17 broke my heart and dumped me because i didn’t want to have sex with him he kicked his ass and then watched Mean girls with me while i cried in his arms for hours. When I got my period in public he kindly gave me his leather jacket to cover up the stain on my pants. Dean Winchester is the most selfless man I’ve ever met.

When Sammy left for Stanford I kept in touch with Dean. I helped him with some hunts while hunting with my father Bobby. When John went missing I helped him grab Sam and start looking. When Jessica died I tagged along for most of the time. It was the three musketeers.

The last seven years haven’t been the easiest for the boys and myself included. John’s deal and trying to hunt down yellow eyes, Dean’s deal for Sam and him being dead for four months, Sam working with Ruby and eventually letting Lucifer out of his cage and then him saving the world and jumping in the pit. Then he turned out to be alive but he was not the same Sam.

The worst year of my life other than my father’s passing was Dean leaving to go live with Lisa and Ben. By then..i was 100% in love with him and it broke my heart that he chose them. In the end I was happy Dean got to be happy for a change after the hell we all just went through. When Castiel erased their memories i couldn’t deny the fact that a part of me was happy.. It sounds awful but I missed Dean so much and I was getting 100% of him back.

When the Leviathans came about, the asshole Dick Roman shot and killed my father. When he refused to leave with the reaper and stayed on earth I knew it wasn’t the right thing but the selfish part of me didn’t want to let him go. Until he was becoming a vengeful spirit and we didn’t have much of a choice but to burn his flask.

After Dean returned from Purgatory and we found the bunker, I couldn't deny that I felt at home with the Winchesters. I miss my father everyday. I remember the last conversation we ever had before he was shot…..

5 years ago

“Kid, listen to me. The idjit is in love with you just as much as you’re in love with him….just tell him.” My father said.

I could feel the blush creeping up my cheeks and shook my head.

“He sees me as his little sister that he has to protect dad. Nothing more.”

“God you’re both so stubborn, life is too damn short..and for hunters it’s even shorter. I say take a risk, you never know what can happen.”

I just shook my head again and looked out the window of the car and that was the end of the conversation.

As I was in my train of thoughts I heard a soft knock on my bedroom door and then Dean poked his head in, he smiled when he saw me.

“Hey sweetheart, you coming into the kitchen for dinner? I made your favorite”.

“...Your lasagna?”. I grinned at him and he chuckled.

“Yes.”

“Okay, I'll be there in a few.”

After dinner we all did our nightly routines and I went into my room for bed. I scrolled down Netflix, trying to find a new series to watch. I decided on The Vampire Diaries since I heard it was a good one, plus...Ian Somerhalder is attractive as all hell.

I jumped up out of my sleep around 1am. Gasping for air I looked around and realized it was just a nightmare and let out a huge sigh of relief. The nightmares have been on and off again lately, the world on my shoulders isn’t the easiest thing to deal with. I laid there for a while staring at the ceiling wondering if Dean was awake. I grabbed my phone and decided to text him.

“Hey...are you awake?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you tired?”

“A little, why what’s wrong sweetheart?”

I smiled at the nickname that he’s used for all these years and began to reply back

“I know it sounds silly but i had a nightmare and wanted to talk to you to get my mind off of it.”

“Sweetheart?” Dean poked his head in my room and then shut the door behind him. He sat on the empty side of my bed and gently brushed the loose hair behind my ear.

“Talk to me, what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

“I’m just tired of it all Dean, the world constantly on our shoulders. The victim's blood on our hands that we couldn’t save. I’m also really missing my dad lately Dean...i miss him so much it hurts.”

My voice cracked after I said that and completely lost it. Dean took me in his arms as I sobbed uncontrollably. He rubbed his hands up and down my back the way he knew calmed me down and kissed my forehead and temple over and over again.

“Let it all out y/n. I know.. i know.. shhhh..” he said as my body started to shake.

As I started to calm down he turned to look at me. He wiped my tears away from my cheeks and smiled softly. I noticed then his eyes were glistening with tears of his own.

“I miss your dad too y/n. I think about him everyday. I know he would be so proud of you. I know that.”

I smiled softly at him and looked down at my hands.

“Thank you for coming in here Dean, I know it’s really late I should let you go back to sleep.”

“The only way i’m going back to sleep is if i sleep in here with you.”

I smiled at him and nodded

He laid down and got himself comfortable and then held his arms out for me to crawl into. I laid on his chest and listened to his steady heartbeat and then the darkness took over.

SERIES MASTERLIST

[lit-in-thy-heart]

If you want to! Mergwaine and tackle hug (romantic or platonic). Idk Gwaine is just the type and it’d be so cute. Maybe after they’ve been reunited??? Or not whatever works 💗

@rainbowvamp thank you for the prompt!! 💕 i took a couple of liberties in that it's a tackle and a hug, i hope that's alright, and i'm sorry about the tone, they just seem to be getting angstier and angstier...

(set a few days after camlann)

as usual, under the cut, and thank you again!!

Whilst the rest of the court marvelled at Gwaine’s miraculously hasty recovery, Gwaine was embracing his newly-discovered invincibility by patrolling the Darkling Woods alone.

He had been clinging to life by a thread, but even in his deadened state he had recognised the hands that had slowly coaxed his body back to consciousness. Instinctively, Gwaine’s own hand jumped to his chest, where he had felt Merlin’s fingers brush against his skin. He wasn’t sure if he’d called out his name, if they’d even spoken, or quite what Merlin had done to him, but Gwaine had been able to sit up after a day and Merlin had been gone.

Healing spells had never been Merlin’s strong suit and Gwaine knew that they were capable of draining every last trace of a skittish pulse if the healer was already weakened. And Merlin would be weakened after watching Arthur die, that Gwaine knew all too well. And Gwaine couldn’t lose Merlin, not after everything that had happened. Particularly not as a result of Merlin reversing Morgana’s damage.

Gwaine pushed through the branches, tucking his hair behind his ear and pausing for a moment by a large oak tree. His fingers fumbled for the knots on the trunk as his legs threatened to crumble beneath him, seeking out the letters carved into the wood. It had been a ridiculous idea, and childish at that, but that hadn’t stopped him from leaving the scar of his initials interlinked with that of Merlin’s in the soft sunset so many years before. Severing himself from the tree as the strength returned to him in gradual waves, Gwaine moved further into the woods, plunging into the translucent darkness left by the shadows of the sun as the leaves above him obscured its path. He and Merlin had grown apart over the last year, and Gwaine had been trying his best to not let it show just how desperately his feet were treading water beneath the surface in the effort to keep their relationship afloat. Merlin had not left his side for a week after Gwaine had returned from Morgana’s clutches with Percival, but he had been paying more and more attention to Arthur and his well being, which Gwaine had attempted to apply logic to. It had made sense that Merlin was focused on Arthur, particularly with the multiple threats lurking in the shadows, and Gwaine himself had sworn loyalty to Arthur. Though that didn’t mean that his service, as it had always been, wasn’t primarily dedicated to Merlin. Everything he did – or had done – for Arthur had been because Merlin had asked him to, or because Gwaine had been able to see the expression lingering in the eyes that he knew so well, the fear that had darkened the delicate irises for the past year.

For a year, Gwaine had mourned the moments where Merlin would unflinchingly tell him about his father, or his magic, or the numerous dangers he’d encountered – though that last one had usually been reserved for when Gwaine had needed a scare to rid himself of hiccups. He had watched Merlin close off more and more of himself and Gwaine hadn’t even realised that Merlin had been dying until he had collapsed on Gwaine’s bed hours after the attempted assassination of Arthur and begrudgingly told him the whole tale. Even then he’d elected to omit the fact that Gwen was wanting Arthur dead, but Gwaine also knew that Merlin had the opinion of himself that his word was worth nothing, despite Gwaine having told him multiple times that he would believe Merlin over Arthur any day of the week. And if Merlin had spent the last of his spirit on Gwaine before they even had the chance to recover the land decimated by drought, Gwaine would never forgive himself.

Through the hesitant birdsong, the snapping of a twig resounded like a crossbow bolt to the skull. Gwaine pressed himself to a tree trunk and, one hand hovering over his sword, ignited sparks that scattered themselves across his fingertips. Through the branches, he caught sight of a hooded figure and a glint of metal and, putting aside all cautions of taking it easy, launched himself at the intruder. Having knocked them to the ground, Gwaine roughly turned them over onto their back between his legs, hand drawn back behind his head as the sparks evolved into ribbons of fire, his eyes burning with the same heat that Merlin’s had flared with so many times.

The same heat that was flickering right in front of him.

In wonder, Merlin reached up with his fingertips to graze the stubble on Gwaine’s chin, the drawn and anxious expression buried amidst it, the bruises stretched out beneath his eyes. When he spoke, he sounded like he was older than time itself. ‘I didn’t think it would work,’ he whispered, the fire in his eyes fading.

Instead of the vibrant blue that Gwaine was used to, the gaze that held his was commanded by the uncertain watery depths of the sky snatched between storm clouds. It was like all the colour had been drained from him and Merlin had been left with the dregs of his former self, and Gwaine’s hands, dropping the flames like he had dropped his guard around the warlock so long ago, jumped to Merlin’s cheeks to check that he was not some trick of his mind.

‘What happened to you?’

‘I gave you all,’ Merlin breathed back, eyes still roaming his form. ‘Because I couldn’t save Arthur, so I had to save you. Morgana was the darkness to my light, and you are my light. I couldn’t let her corrupt you. So I poured everything I had into reversing her damage. I poured everything I had into you.’

‘And nearly killed yourself in the process,’ said Gwaine sharply, fingers darting to the faint heartbeat beneath Merlin’s shirt. He slid from him, trying to conceal his trembling lower lip, and shook out his hair as he held out his arms. ‘Come here, you self-sacrificing fuck.’

Merlin fell into him like an acorn burying itself in the ground, rooting itself to the very earth it would one day become in the hopes of being able to slowly flourish. Savouring the cool touch, Gwaine wrapped his arms around the warlock in the attempt to transfer some of his body heat. Merlin was still breathing, which was always a good sign, and the heart thumping against him was stronger than it had been mere moments before. They hadn’t held each other like this since the morning that Merlin had been released from the cells after being cleared of poisoning Arthur. When Merlin touched him, it was like a butterfly was darting across Gwaine’s skin and seeking out the nectar hidden in his pores, and Gwaine closed his eyes.

‘Do you still have your magic?’

Merlin’s reply was thickened by the threat of tears. ‘I think so. It doesn’t feel as strong as it did, but I know a way to get it back if it is gone. You didn’t tell me that you’d been practising.’

Gwaine’s fingers were making their way along Merlin’s ribs. ‘There wasn’t really a chance to drop it into conversation,’ he softly said. ‘You were preoccupied with—You were preoccupied with other things.’

‘I’m sorry. For isolating myself. I just—I couldn’t afford to get distracted. I couldn’t allow everything that had been built to crumble so soon after.’ Merlin dropped his head into Gwaine’s shoulder. ‘It has anyway, though, and I’ve hurt you in the process. And I should have stayed by your side, when I healed you. But there were other voices and I was selfish and couldn’t handle the prospect of yet another failure, this time with an audience, and—’

‘Merlin, it’s alright. You’ve had so much pressure put on you for so long and, yes, you’ve hurt me, but you’re a selfless bastard who was doing it to protect me. I’d say that I expect you to make it up to me, but you’ve just saved my life, so I think that counteracts some of the distance that was between us. Not that I’ll say no to flowers, if that inclination possesses you,’ Gwaine added as an afterthought.

Pulling away, Merlin abandoned his fingers to Gwaine’s soft hair, gaze darting anywhere but Gwaine’s warm eyes. Then, he met them. ‘You know I love you, don’t you?’

Had Merlin asked that several months ago, Gwaine would have screamed that he show him, but Merlin had been willing to sacrifice himself for Gwaine. And Merlin being prepared to drain himself of his magic, the one thing that he had defined himself by – which was arguably not the best idea, but there would be time to show Merlin how much more he was worth – was more than enough proof that he loved Gwaine. ‘I know now. And I love you too.’

‘I won’t leave you again, I promise you.’

A lifetime of living as a pariah was screaming at Gwaine to not trust Merlin, to push him away to protect himself, but his heart was weeping and Merlin’s stare was so fierce for one who seemed so fragile. ‘I know you won’t.’ Gwaine pressed a kiss to Merlin’s forehead, lips lingering as he closed his eyes. ‘I know you won’t.’

[imagineitup]

rumors : theseus scamander x reader

request: Could you write an angst to fluff Theseus Scamander x reader imagine please? Thank you!

a/n: enemies to friends!au ok so this was a lot better in my head ajdlksjk but i hope u enjoy bb 

- - 

Working as an auror meant you were bound to experience surprising moments, but never in your life had you expected Theseus Scamander to decide that it was time to include you in the list of people he’d protect to the death.  Theseus seemed to glow with kindness and warmth, almost like he had a never-ending supply of it, but for the longest time, he’d hated you.  And while maybe hate was a strong word, the two of you were not on good terms.  At least, not until you’d impulsively pushed him out the way of the cruciatus curse, taking the hit for him.

For some reason, the Ministry of Magic believed that pairing the two of their best aurors together would be a good idea, despite the glaring fact that these two-said aurors wouldn’t trust each other and seemed incapable of talking to each other peacefully.  But the Ministry did what it did best, and that is not listen, which is why you and Theseus now find yourselves holed together in one hotel room, his eyes settling to rest concernedly on your form.

“Are you feeling alright?” Theseus says after a while, regarding you with a strange look.  

He’s got a nasty scar running across his nose.  It’s split, but Theseus doesn’t fix it, and you haven’t made a move to say anything.  Despite hating him for the longest time, you know exactly why he hasn’t performed a healing spell; it would be obvious to anyone who spent even a little time with him.  Theseus feels guilty.

“I’m fine,” you say, but it immediately sounds like a lie.  You don’t want it to, but your throat feels raw.  Simple talking is too much, and you hate how your body responds to everything.

The cruciatus curse really shouldn’t have affected you like this, but it did.  Apparently it’s from your rheumatoid arthritis, according to the Ministry’s undercover healer.  Apparently, your arthritis decided to take a flare up when the curse overloaded your nerves.  So now pain flashes back in phantoms, and when you move, everything hurts.  Sometimes it even hurts to breathe.

“You’re not fine.”  Theseus says matter-of-factly, standing up to start pacing around the room.  “I could’ve taken it, you know?  It would’ve only been for a few minutes and then,” he sighs, his shoulders slumping, “and you wouldn’t be in pain.”

You crack the faintest smile, angling your head to stare up at Theseus with sleepy eyes.  “I told you, Scamander.  You can’t control impulsive actions.”

Theseus stares at you for a moment.  It’s strange to see a careful smile pull at the sides of his  lips, and it makes some part of you secretly flush.  Yet underlying everything is utter terror that you’ll do something to slip up, and then Theseus will go right back to hating you.  You’re dreading the moment this mission ends, because that means things will revert right back to normal, and Theseus won’t have to spend anymore time with you.

You’re jolted out of your thoughts when Theseus clears his throat.  “You do know that you don’t have to protect me, right?”

You’re startled.  “I’m your partner.  Of course I’m supposed to protect you.  Why else would the Ministry send us both here?”

Theseus shakes his head, frustrated.  “I’m not talking about that.  (Y/N), I’m talking about sacrificing yourself.  You don’t need to do that.”

“Sacrificing?”

“Yes,” Theseus grimaces, and he pauses in his pace to kneel beside you, his elbows leaning on the mattress to prop his head up.  “There was no way of knowing what spell that was.  It could’ve been the killing curse, for all we knew.”

“But it wasn’t.”

“Yes, but it could’ve been!  And if you died,” he lets out a strangled breath.  

“It wasn’t the killing curse, Theseus.”

“But I’ve been absolutely terrible to you.”  Theseus sighs, rubbing the back of his neck.  He looks tired, for the first time you’re noticing the circles underneath his eyes and the way he’s trying to blink away sleep.  “Look, we support each other.  And ... I know about what happened before.  That wasn’t your fault.”

The confusion must show on your face, because Theseus seems to choose his next words very carefully.  His voice softens when he meets your stunned expression.  “I’m not him, (Y/N).  And what went down that day won’t happen again, okay?  I promise you, I won’t let it.”

You swallow, even more confused than before.  You’re struggling to talk with the familiar ache at the back of your throat, and you blink quickly.  “You’ve known about that for years.  I don’t understand what this has to do with anything.”

“I knew rumors.  But I never knew what really happened.”  His next words are reluctant.  “The Ministry told me the truth when we were assigned together.  It’s in your file.”

So he knew about it, then.  Anger rushes through you, white and hot, but it fades just as quickly.  While you’re furious that something so heavy could be reduced to a few concise words on a classified file, you don’t have the strength to move or even be angry anymore.  If anything, you just feel sad.  Drained.

Theseus’s hand drops to rest a centimeter against yours.  It’s almost like he wants to take your hand, but he’s not sure what the two of you are.  “You’re upset.”

It isn’t phrased like a question.  Normally this type of thing made you mad.  It was one of the reasons you preferred to work alone.  But Theseus’s voice is soft and gentle, and it does things to your heart that you don’t want to think about just yet.

“He was my best friend.”

Theseus’s brow furrows.  “What?”

You’re biting back tears, half from pain and the other from thinking about this again.  “I never wanted him to go on that mission with me.  I didn’t want him to get hurt.”  As soon as you start talking, it seems you can’t stop.  You haven’t talked about this in years, and the words spill from your mouth as you suck in a breath.  “I was distracted because I was so focused on protecting him.”  

Theseus stares at you with horror, his eyes pained.

A sob escapes your lips, and you shut your eyes, trying to choke it down.  “I wasn’t focused on myself, and that’s why he died.  He pushed me out of the way of the killing curse.”

“I had no idea you were friends.”  Agony etches itself across Theseus’s face.  “If I’d known I never would have --”

“People don’t normally look for details when they’ve decided to hate someone.”

Surprisingly Theseus’s hand edges closer, his thumb moving to carefully draw circles on the side of your palm.  “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, and it shouldn’t feel real, but it feels like the most genuine thing he’s ever said to you.  Like he’s really, really sorry.

“You don’t have to worry.  I’m not letting anyone else die on my watch,” you sniffle.  “Especially not you.”

“No one’s dying,” Theseus says firmly.

“I might,” you say ruefully.  “Although that won’t be terrible for the team, and I probably deserve it.  They’ve got you, and Yeji, and Glenys --”

“How can you say that?” Theseus whispers, going rigid.  “It’d be terrible for the team!  (Y/N), it’d be terrible for me.”

“Theseus, you hate me!”

“Not anymore.”

“What do you mean, not anymore?  Just because I did something decent and saved you from a hit?  That doesn’t make any sense!  I’ve done stuff like that before!”

“I didn’t know what happened until a few weeks ago.”

Realization quickly dawns on you.  Oh.

“He was my friend, too.  Some part of me thought you threw the mission because you didn’t want to work with him.”

As soon as the words leave his mouth, you feel the biggest betrayal you’ve ever experienced.  Your mouth goes wide, and you stammer for words, shocked.  “You thought I would do that?” Your eyes start to tear up.  “You actually thought --”

Theseus panics, hands rushing forward to hold you, cradle you, but he stops them mid-motion, and something like anguish falls over his features.  “It was terrible of me.  Can you forgive me?”

“I hate you for thinking that.” You’re shaking, unable to stop.  “I would never, ever do anything like that.”

Theseus lowers his head, ashamed.  “I know you wouldn’t.  You’re kind, (Y/N).  And selfless.  I know that, now.”  He lets out a sigh, his shoulders lowering.  “I’m sorry.”

You look up at Theseus, still tear-stricken and wince as a wrack of pain runs down your spine.  Your hand seizes up and grips Theseus’s tightly.

Theseus lets out a strangled sort of sound, but you doubt it’s from your hand.  He inches closer to you, his eyes roaming all over your face.  “I wish you didn’t take that curse.  I want to help you, but I don’t know what to do.” His voice breaks off, and the strength seems to leave his body.

“Can you just hold me?” You whisper, closing your eyes.  “I’m so tired, and I can’t fall asleep.”

Theseus nods, slowly.  He gets up, his footsteps padding across the floor, and there’s a click as the lights flicker off, leaving the two of you in darkness.  A few seconds later there’s a dip in the mattress, and Theseus’s arm gently wraps around your waist.  You turn toward him, finding comfort in his embrace.  You’re so exhausted, and Theseus is warm, so warm.

“I don’t hate you,” you whisper after a while.  “It just really hurt.”

“I wouldn’t blame you if you did.”

“I couldn’t.”

Theseus brushes a wisp of hair from your face.  “We can talk tomorrow.  Try to get some sleep.”

You nod, resting your head against Theseus’s chest.  And for the first time in a while, sleep comes.

[t4twolfstar]

Pearl Jam songs as the marauders' story

listen here

explanations under read more

Red Mosquito - Remus is bit by Greyback

two steps ahead of him, punctures in your neck…/ Hoverin' just above your bed... (2x)/ I was bitten...must have been the devil…/ He was just paying me…/ A little visit, reminding me of his presence…

Jeremy - most of the song, Sirius

Okay so we’re going to look at the verses not the refrain for this one bc (TW su*) this song is based on an actual boy who diy died in front of his class so like no we’re not relating to that part but the “Clearly I remember/ Pickin’ on the boy/ Seemed a harmless little fuck/ But we unleashed the lion….Daddy didn't give affection, no/And the boy was something that mommy wouldn't wear”

Daughter - Sirius at home

Trans sirius in an abusive household………. “Mother reads aloud, child tries to understand it/Tries to make her proud/ The shades go down, it's in her head/ Painted room, can't deny that something's wrong/ Don’t call me daughter, not fit to”

Leash - Sirius and Remus’ toxic codependent love and then yelling at the establishment/people who say they’re too young going too deep too hard too fast

“Troubled souls unite/ We got ourselves tonight, oh/ I am fuel you are friends we got the means to make amends/ I am lost I'm no guide but I'm by your side/ I am right by your side….We will find a way we will find our place/ Drop the leash drop the leash/Get outta' my fuckin' face”

Why Go? - Sirius becoming disenchanted w his family

Trans Sirius too of course. She seems to be stronger/ But what they want/ Her to be is weak/ She could play pretend/ She could join the game, boy/ She could be another clone….don’t come visit/mother/ why go home?

Blood - Sirius’ family trying to make him into something he’s not

Spin me round/ Roll me over/ Fucking circus/ Stab it down/ One way needle/ Pulled so slowly/ Drains and spills/ Soaks the pages/ Fills their sponges/ It’s my blood/ It’s my blood

WMA - basically about all the big pureblood families that can get away w anything

“He won the lottery when he was born/ Took his mothers white breast to his tongue/ Do no wrong so clean cut/ Dirty his hands, it comes right off” (tw for song: police, implied police violence)

Do the Evolution - Sirius ranting abt/mocking his family

Admire me, admire my home/ Admire my son, he's my clone…./ I'll do what I want but irresponsibly/ It’s evolution, baby/ I’m a thief, I'm a liar/ There’s my church, I sing in the choir:/ (Hallelujah, hallelujah)

Bushleaguer - abt the aristocracy etc

This song is literally about George bush lmao but I love it abt the upper class

“Born on third, thinks he got a triple…./The aristocrat choir sings, "what's the ruckus?”/ The haves have not a clue/ The immenseness of suffering”

Mind your manners - You guessed it - Sirius rejecting his family

I've got an unfortunate feelin’/ I've been beaten down/I feel I don't believe/ And now the truth is coming out/ What they've taken is more than a vow/ They’ve taken your innocence/ And then they throw them on a burning fire/ All along they're sayin’/ Mind your manners

My father’s son - SIRIUS

I am my father's son,/ Yeah, too bad he was a psychopath and now I'm the next in line, , dear mother, yes, surely she's a work of art,…/Can I get a reprieve?/ This gene pool dark and deep…./Now father you're dead and gone and I'm finally free to be me,/ Thanks for all your dark gifts for which I've got no sympathy,/ I’m living in a walled-up place in the bounds of 5th symphony

Yellow Ledbetter - Sirius

Okay so 97% of the the lyrics are indecipherable when Eddie sings them but you can hear I don’t wanna stay

Go - Regulus to Sirius as he’s trying to leave

(Abuse tw) So sorry about this one yall …… .but yes I think this is regulus finally realizing that he shouldn’t have let things get so bad at home (Sirius blames him for not stepping in even tho he’s a child there’s nuance here etc) and he’s begging Sirius not to leave him here “Oh please don't go out on me don't go out on me now/ Never acted up before don't go on me now/ I swear I never took it for granted just thought of it now/ Suppose I abused you just passing it on….I pulled the covers over him shoulda' pulled the alarm/ Turned to my nemesis…Please don't go on me/ Don’t go on me/ Don’t go on me/ Don’t go on me/ please”

Rearviewmirror - Sirius running away

(Tw abuse) Time to emancipate/ I guess it was the beatings made me wise….Forced to endure/ What I could not forgive/ I seem to look away/ Wounds in the mirror waved/ It wasn't my surface most defiled

Can’t Keep - Sirius running away from home

I want to shake/ I want to wind out/ I want to leave/ This mind and shout/ I’ve lived/ All this life/ Like an ocean/ In disguise/ I don't live for ever/ You can't keep/ Me here

Hail, Hail - Remus and Sirius’ codependent strong love

A how I love you till the day I die...ah and beyond…/ are we going to the same place? If so, can I come?/ It’s egg rollin' thick and heavy...all the past we carry…

Release - Remus thinking about his dad

Remus’ dad is so full of guilt for his hand in remus’ transformations that he extracted himself from remus’ life. Remus laments here, “Oh, dear dad/ Can you see me now?/ I am myself/ Like you somehow” “I'll hold the pain/Release me” he’d would rather have a dad, guilt and all, here, than the self appointed absence but since you left me with the absence and grief and loss of it, at least release me from it, loosen your grip so I can move on.

Present Tense - Sirius and Remus talking probably laying in the forbidden forest assuaging one another’s beliefs of the gnarled beasts they think they are

BUGS - prob remus when he turns before the boys know

Bugs on my ceiling/ Crowded the floor/ Standing sitting kneeling…/ A few block the door/ And now the question’s:/ Do I kill them?/ Become their friend?/ Do I eat them?/ Do I join them?/ I’ll just stop now/ I’ll become naked/ And with the...I'll become one

Who you are - probably James at remus when he thinks he’s a big monster

Who are we?/ Who we are./ What’s your part? Who you are / You are who you are.

Save you - GOD THIS SONGG okay this is probably James @ Sirius when home life is bad and also Sirius @ Remus and also Remus @ Sirius it’s all of them @ all of them

Gonna save you fucker, not gonna lose you/ Feeling cocky and strong, can't let you go,/ Too important to me/ Too important to us, we'd be lost without you/ Baby, let yourself fall, I'm right below you now/ And fuck me if I say something you don't want to hear/ And fuck if you only hear what you want to hear/ Fuck me if I care, but I'm not leaving here/ You helped me when I was down, I'll help when you're down/ Why are you hitting yourself, c'mon hit me instead

Life Wasted - Sirius @ Reg re: leaving

I escaped it, a life wasted./ I’m never going back again…./ You're always saying you're too weak to be Strong./ You’re harder on yourself than just about Anyone/ Why swim the channel just to get this far?/ Halfway there, why would you turn around?

Severed Hand - Reg joins the death eaters

Big man stands behind an open door/ Said, leave your lady on the cement floor./ Got some kicks, want to take a ride?/ I said, yeah!/ Oh please understand I just need, my friend,/ A way a way a way home

Brain of J. - Reg and Sirius arguing after he joins the death eaters

The whole world will be different soon/ The whole world will be relieving/ You, you've been taught/ We’d been the same, now they got you in line/ Stand behind the stripes/ There will be order, so give it a good mind…./And by name/ The name they gave me/ The name I'm letting go

Deep - Regulus knows he’s in too deep

This is Regulus knowing he’s in too deep, Voldemort and the death eaters are such bad fucking people and he’s in too deep now (massive tw for this song for drugs and se*ual violence)

“Ponders his Maker, ponders his will/ in too deep/ can’t touch the bottom”

Pilate - Remus abt Sirius ;0)

Like Pilate I have a dog/ (Obeys listens kisses loves)/ Walks me out of town/ Still one's a crowd/ Making angels in the dirt/ Looking up looking all around

You Are - in love 🥰

Love is a tower/ Of strength to me/ I am the shoreline/ But you're the sea

Red Bar - the war begins

War, I’m crazy/ War I’m crazy I’m war the song is also a lil goofy so it’s maybe just like going crazy being so in it that it’s funny now

Porch - WARTIME EVERYONE @ THEIR LOVERS

It’s the war and everyone knows today could be their last day and tensions are running high in relationships and they love each other so much and need each other but snap at one another nonetheless

What the fuck is this world running to?/ You didn't leave a message/ At least I could have learned your voice one last time/ Daily minefield, this could be my time by you/ Would you hit me? Would you hit me?/ Hear my name, take a good look/ This could be the day/ Hold my hand, walk beside me

Thin Air - babes in love

There's a light, when my baby's in my arms,/ There’s a light, when the window shades are drawn…/ And I know she's reached my heart, in thin air.

All or None - More war time songs soz

Here's the selfless confession/ Leading me back to war/ Can we help that our destinations/ Are the ones we've been before?/ I still try to run on/ But it's all or none

Parting Ways - Lily @ James during the war

She knows their future's burning/ But she can smile just the same, same/ And though her mood is fine today/ There’s a fear they'll soon be parting ways

Love Boat Caption - Sirius/Remus, Lily/James, etc etc. during the war

Love boat captain/ Take the reigns and steer us towards the clear, here/ It’s already been sung, but it can't be said enough/ All you need is loveIt's an art to live with pain/ Mix the light into grey/ Lost nine friends we'll never know/ Two years ago today/ And if our lives became too long/ Would it add to our regret?…./Hold me and make it the truthThat when all is lost, there will be you

Evacuation - going into hiding

Lukin- Lily and James have to go into hiding

(Tw st*lking mention in explanation, gun mention in song) The song was written by Eddie when he was being stalked and he had to bring himself and his wife to a friend’s house for safety.

In Hiding - Lily and James are in hiding and enter Peter

No way in or out/ I turned and walked the hallways/ And pulled the curtains down…./I swallow the truth to keep from lying/ i'm no longer overwhelmed and it seems so simple now/ Yeah, it's funny how things change so much/ It’s all state of mind

Once - Peter Pettigrew betraying the marauders

Literally about someone committing a mass murder. “Once upon a time I could control myself.” “Mimic whats insane.”

Around the Bend - I'm so sorry ummm but Lily to Harry on Halloween 💀

I am wishing you a well…./ I hold your head deep in my arms/ My fingertips, they close your eyes/ Off you dream, my little child/ There’s a sun around the bend/ Please forgive me, won't you, dear?/ Please forgive and let me share with you, around the bend/ You’re an angel when you sleep/ How I want your soul to keep, on and on around the bend

Garden - Sirius being taken to Azkaban

He’s just taking his fate as it comes to him.

The direction of the eye/ So misleading/ The defection of the soul/ Nauseously quick/I will walk, with my hands bound/ I will walk, with my face blood/ I will walk, with my shadow flag/ Into your garden/ Garden of stone

Even flow - IS SO VERY MUCH SIRIUS IN AZKABAN

sung from the pov of an incarcerated person waiting for life to begin again

BUGS - Sirius in Azkaban (yes I already said this abt remus but idc)

Bugs on my ceiling/ Crowded the floor/ Standing sitting kneeling…/ A few block the door/ And now the question’s:/ Do I kill them?/ Become their friend?/ Do I eat them?/ Do I join them?/ I’ll just stop now/ I’ll become naked/ And with the...I'll become one

Black - Remus lamenting about Sirius’ perceived deception

Remembering their love and how now so many of his memories are tainted (by) black and that all of this has changed him fundamentally (star imagery, “black”, “tattooed everything”)

Indifference - Sirius in grimmauld place, sirius in Azkaban

Sirius taking his home life in stride until he can leave, taking Azkaban in stride bc it doesn’t matter any way bc he believes he deserve it anyway

“Pretend I'm free to roam/ I will make my way/ Through one more day in hell/ How much difference does it make?/ How much difference does it make?/ I will hold the candle/ Till it burns up my arm/ Oh, I'll keep takin' punches/ Until their will grows tired/ Oh, I will stare the sun down/ Until my eyes go blind/ Hey, I won't change direction/ And I won't change my mind/ How much difference does it make?/ How much difference does it make?/ I’ll swallow poison, until I grow immune/ I will scream my lungs out till it fills this room”

Alive - Remus post ’81

Eddie originally wrote the song as a lament - why did I live when he didn’t? Why am I still alive?

“Is something wrong she said, of course there is, you’re still alive she said, but do I deserve to be?”

Animal - Remus after ’81 when he needs to transform alone

Feat. A throwback to being turned (so tw: abd*ction) “Torture from you to me, yeah/Abducted from the street/I'd rather be with an animal”

Nothingman - Sirius and Remus after ’81

Once divided nothing left to subtract/ Some words when spoken can't be taken back/ Walks on his own with thoughts he can't help thinking/ Future’s above but in the past he's slow and sinking…./ She once believed in every story he had to tell/ One day she stiffened took the other side/ Empty stares from each corner of a shared prison cell/ One just escapes one's left inside the well

Smile - Remus @ the marauders (except it’s after ’81 and he just thinks of them fondly)

Don't it make you smile?/ I miss you already/ I miss you always/ I miss you already/ I miss you all day/ This is how I feel/ Three crooked hearts swirls all around/ Don’t it make you smile?

In my tree - remus abt sirius after ’81

I remember him, yeah…/ I swore I knew everything, oh yeah…/ They say knowledge is a dream, yeah…/ He's growing up just like me, yeah…

Light Years - Remus abt Sirius

But now you're gone, I haven't figured out why/ I’ve come up with riddles and jokes about war/ I’ve figured out numbers and what they're for/ I’ve understood feelings and I've understood words/ But how could you be taken away?/ Back pages and days alone that could have been spent/ Together, but we were miles apart Every inch between us becomes light years now

I’m open - Remus!!!! Post ’81

After spending half his life searching he still felt as blank/ As the ceiling at which he stared/ He is alive but feels absolutely nothing/ So is he?/ When he was six he believed that the moon overhead followed him/…..So this is what it's like to be an adult/ If he only knew now what he knew then

Thumbing my Way - Remus post ’81 again blah blah ikik

I can't be free with what's locked inside of me/ If there was a key you took it in your hand/ There’s no wrong or right but I'm sure there's good and bad/ The questions linger overhead

Rats - we know how remus like to soliloquize …. This is him waxing poetic about how fucking horrible Peter is

The song itself is kind of listing the many ills of humankind saying how rats don’t compare to people bc they don’t do all this. But Peter isnt really a rat. He’s a man and oppresses like a man and betrays like a man and takes like a man.

“Drink the blood of their so-called best friend….They don't scurry when something bigger comes their way….Don't take what's not theirs“

Oceans - Sirius escaping Azkaban

Hold on to the thread/ The currents will shift, glide me towards/ You know something's left/ And we're all allowed to dream of the next…..The sea will rise/ Please stand by the shore/ I will be there once more

Elderly Woman Behind The Counter In A Small Town - Sirius after Azkaban

200004309248% sirius returning from 12 years isolated. He doesn’t really recognize most things. Remus wouldn’t recognize him. He’s different. Changed by being unchanged. He couldn’t grow and learn and morph and become. He stagnated yet decayed. But he’s back and he recognizes your skin and your breath. He’s back.

Off He Goes - Sirius is a Sagittarius in the first half, second half is post PoA

Know a man his face seemed pulled and tense/ Like he's riding on a motorbike in the strongest winds/ So I approach with tact/ Suggest that he should relax/ But he's always movin' much too fast/ Said he'll see me on the flip side/ On this trip he's taken for a ride…./ And now I rub my eyes for he has returned/ Seems my preconceptions are what should have been burned/ For he still smiles and he's still strong/ Nothing’s changed, but the surrounding bullshit, that has grown/ And now he's home, and we're laughing, like we always did/ My same old, same old friend/ Until a quarter-to-ten

All Those Yesterdays - and cue the bath scene, remus washes his lost love

Don't you think you oughta rest?/ Don’t you think you oughta lay you head down?/ You don't think there's time to stop/ There’s time enough for you to lay your head down tonight tonight/ Let it wash away/ All those yesterdays

[sirtommyholland]

Four years of birthdays || tom holland x reader

A/N: Well I posted this hours ago but I didn’t realize that tags were broken and no one saw this, again. Soo reposting. Sadly, it’s not Tom’s birthday anymore but nevermind :(

Happy Birthday Tom Holland!!

Summary: Tom’s four years of birthdays with you, starting as best friends and ending as more.

Word Count: 1.3k

17 - 2013

“Happy birthday to youuu!” his two best friends finished singing with an obnoxious loud note, finally making him lift his head from his hands, where he had been hiding throughout the whole song. They had caught the attention of everyone in the cafeteria, all of them staring at them, some clapping along to the song.

“Thanks guys” he said in a weak voice, a bit red in the face but still smiling. Being the center of attention in the school cafeteria was different than being the center of attention at a play, or a movie set.

“Well, go ahead and blow out the candle!” Harrison said, nudging the little cupcake with a single candle a bit closer to him.

“And don’t forget to make a wish!” you added, smiling at him in that gentle way of yours that made his heart beat just a bit faster in his chest.

He closed his eyes and envisioned his wish. The three of them being together for years to come, happy and healthy, along with their families. Also, having a succesful career as an actor. Birthday wishes didn’t have to have a limit, right?

18 - 2014

The living room lights were suddenly turned off, making Tom stare at the ceiling in confusion. When he turned his head towards the door to see who turned off the lights, his whole family started singing ‘happy birthday’ making him smile and check out the time on his phone. 00:01. Figures.

When everyone finished singing and his mom placed the cake on the coffee table in front of him, he suddenly noticed his two best friends were there as well. In his house. Without him knowing.

“When did you guys get here?”

“Oh Harry snuck us in hours ago. We were hiding in his room.” Harrison explained.

“So that’s why he didn’t let me in there.” he mused. “I thought he was hiding porn or something.”

“Hey!” protested Harry.

“Anyway” you cut in. “Make a wish!”

He closed his eyes. He imagined himself at a movie premiere - a movie of his. He saw himself posing for pictures -he looked older-, his arm around a very pretty girl in a very pretty dress -you. The girl turned her head away from the cameras to look at him, the wide smile on her face made him giddy in a way that nothing else could.  He leaned in to plant a kiss on her temple, the flashes and shouts getting brighter and louder.

He opened his eyes, tearing himself from his dream and blowing out the candles. He couldn’t help but smile a bit wider when he looked at you afterwards. He wondered, for the millionth time, what it would be like to be with you like that, in real life.

 19 - 2015

“Well, Mr. Holland. How does it feel to be 19?”

“I feel the same way as yesterday.” He said plainly, looking at the camera with a blank face.

“Come on Tommy.” You pouted behind the camera. “Bear with me for a bit. I have done this for years, not gonna stop now. Besides, in a few years, people will kill to see home videos of Spiderman.”

He groaned. “For the last time, I’m not Spiderman. They said they’d call tomorrow, and that was three weeks ago. They probably chose someone else.” he said with a frown. Auditioning to be spiderman was the biggest thing to happen to him, it was a dream. He had done auditions for five months, he got more and more excited and hopeful everytime they called him for another one. But now, after his last one, it had been radio silence for three weeks, and he was going crazy with anticipation. He just wanted them to call, to say anything -that he got it or not. Not knowing anything was driving him insane.

“You’re gonna get it.” You said that with such convinction that he almost believed you.

“How can you be so sure?” He couldn’t help but ask.

“Well you are great actor and you are in the right physical shape to play a superhero. But I am also your friend and I know you. I think you are a lot like Peter Parker. You are a bit a bit of nerd, first of all-” 

“Hey!”

“-let me finish! Anyway, but you are also kind, funny, thoughtful, selfless. You do everything you can to make sure that people around are happy. And you are also really cute. So for me that makes you the perfect Peter Parker and if they don’t think the same way they are idiots. But no matter what, you’ll always be my hero anyway.” she finished with a little smile on her face.

Tom felt like he was gonna faint ever since the sentence “you’re cute” left her mouth. That was another reason he really wanted to get that role. It was his dream to play his childhood hero, obviously. But when this whole auditioning process started, he made a promise to himself. If he got the role, he was finally going to act on the feelings that had been growing inside him for years. There was something between you two, a deeper connection that they were both feeling, but not making a move, taking their time and enjoying their friendship because they weren’t in a rush. But Tom decided that if he got the role, he was finally going to make that move, so he could achieve both of his dreams at the same time.

“Wow. Thanks.” he said with a slight stammer, looking at the camera to take his eyes away from her, hoping that he could cool down a bit if he didn’t look into her eyes directly. “I wish you’re right.” he thought. “Please be right.”

20 - 2016

“Hey.”

He turned towars your voice, smiling at you as you closed to back door to garden, making your way to him and sitting next to him on the small stairs. 

“Hi.” he said gently. “Just wanted to take a breather. It was kinda loud inside.”

You were in his parents house, where you had planned a surprise party for him. It wasn’t exactly a surprise he saw it coming from miles away, but still.

You hummed a small “mhmm” as an answer, resting your head on his shoulder as his arm came to wrap around your waist. You nuzzled into his neck, his warmth and scent making you take a deep breath in content. You placed a small kiss on the side of his neck, making him hum and kiss you on your head. 

“Thank you for the party.” he said in a quiet voice, like he didn’t want to break the peaceful silence of the garden. “It has been my favourite birthday with you so far.”

“Really? Why?” you asked in a slightly curious voice.

“’Cause every year when you smiled at me and told me to make a wish, I wished to be with you, or kiss you, or hold you like I wanted to. And this year I finally can.”

You felt your heart grow ten sizes from his words, and lifted your head to look at him, only to find that he was already looking at you. The loving look in his eyes made you want to cry of happiness, from how lucky you were. How lucky you were that this amazing, wonderful, incredible boy looked at you exactly the way you were looking at him. 

You placed a hand on his cheek, leaning in to give him a small kiss. “I love you.” you whispered, your nose still touching his. 

He kissed you again, a bit longer but still as gentle. “I love you.” he sighed against your lips. “Thank you for making this my best age so far.”

“You have Marvel to thank for that as well.” you joked, making him smile, and continued. “And every age from now is gonna get better and better. I promise.”

He pulled you to his chest again, kissing your temple and and tightning his arm around you. “How can it not get better” he thought “when I have you right next to me?”

A/N: I was gonna do this for every age until 24 but I really couldn’t find things to write. Also, I’m planning on making a series where they meet in BRIT school and become friends, and this one-shot is gonna be a part of that same universe, so I didn’t want to limit myself in the future by writing everything that happens until 2020. Hope you liked it, I’d love it if you liked or reblogged!

Take care and stay safe!

MASTERLIST

[carewyncromwell]

The next Cinderella AU part is here...and I am so thrilled about this part, because not only do we get a new character (who I’m quite sure you can identify from the sketch above -- only my second time drawing him ever, and I’m actually pretty happy with it!), but we’ll also get a nice serving of drama! Goodie!!

Robin Hood as a legendary figure first originated through the oral tradition, so its history is a little hard to plot out, but his first reference in writing is a ballad from the 15th century. Although our modern image of Robin Hood is that of a chaotic good heroic figure, his original incarnation was decidedly less saintly -- he was a bandit, and although he did refrain from stealing from women, he was rather violent, reckless, and hot-tempered, as well as flagrantly against both clerics and all nobility. Robin Hood’s backstory of being a disgraced nobleman who turned outlaw after losing his title and land and who remains loyal to the “good king” Richard while opposing the unlawful regent Prince John was added later, presumably to make him a bit more “approachable” to an Elizabethan audience who was more accustomed to hearing tales about nobility (just look at a lot of Shakespeare’s plays from that period -- many of them center around royalty or the upper class). Plays about or referencing Robin Hood then increased in popularity on the British Isles throughout the 16th and early 17th century, until the rise of Puritanism in the 1640′s put a halt to theatrical productions. (Bloody kill-joys.) For more information on the history of Robin Hood’s development, I strongly recommend this analysis done by Overly Sarcastic Productions (...actually, just watch everything on their channel, it’s all great XD).

Previous part is here -- whole tag is here -- Katriona “KC” Cassiopeia belongs to @kc-needs-coffee -- and I hope you enjoy!

x~x~x~x

Carewyn had a lot of trouble returning to her daily routine at the palace the following morning. Getting so close to the border with Orion and hearing about how much scarier it was likely to get on the battlefield made her all the more worried for Jacob’s well-being. Even if the spell Charles Cromwell had paid for nine years ago made it so that Jacob would stay alive as long as he willed it, Carewyn dreaded the thought of what harm, physical and emotional, that Jacob might face. If she only had some idea which battalion he was a part of and where on the front he’d be, then she could always just try to send a letter his way...maybe even ask Orion to drop it off to the camp for her, since his father was an officer. But Carewyn had combed every military roster she could get her hands on, but hadn’t been able to find a single record of Jacob anywhere.

‘He must be under another name,’ Carewyn told herself. 

It wouldn’t be too unreasonable that Charles wouldn’t want Jacob to advance in the ranks on the back of their family name. And really, Carewyn knew full well how displeased her grandfather would be if he found out she was trying to reach out to her brother without his approval -- he could’ve even forced Jacob to take on another name, just to try to make it that bit harder for Carewyn to contact him without his approval...

Carewyn’s friends noticed a rather abrupt shift in her mood. She was singing as always, but her choices were a bit less upbeat and her voice sounded oddly distracted and nostalgic. At one point, Andre mentioned offhandedly that he’d been designing themed outfits for his friends to wear to his mother’s New Year Eve’s Masque Ball, but Carewyn had trouble putting much attention on it.

“I’ve already finished some ‘owl wings’ on a cape for KC and a fur-trimmed wolf mask and gown for Erika...I was thinking perhaps a stag for Bill, a dragon for Charlie, and a lioness for Ginny? I considered a horse at first, but I think a pale gold would make her just glow, don’t you think? Yours I’m most excited for, though...I’m hoping to actually make your newest pair of shoes with fabric on the inside for comfort and diamond on the outside for sturdiness, if I can manage it!”

“Mm...that sounds great,” said Carewyn absently.

Her gaze was drawn out the nearest window, as far out as she could.

“...Andre,” she said slowly, “I realize this is very last minute, but...may I have this afternoon off, to go see my family?”

Andre blinked. “Is something the matter?”

“Oh no, no,” Carewyn lied with as pretty and reassuring of a smile as she could. “It’s just...well, it’s nearly Tristan’s birthday. My uncle keeps him very close to home, compared to my other cousins...I merely thought I might stop by and bake him a little something, as a surprise.”

Andre frowned slightly. “You...get along better with your uncle and his son than with Iris, then?”

“No, but Tristan is only a boy. It’s hard to hold any bad behavior against him. And well, maybe if he and the others don’t know I made it, he’ll enjoy it better.”

Carewyn could see Andre still looked confused and a little dismayed, so she quickly added, “I’ll be back by tomorrow morning, in time for my rounds. I won’t allow it to interrupt my duties.”

Andre offered a hesitant smile. “Well, all right...if it really means that much to you.”

Carewyn’s eyes softened. “Thank you, Andre -- I really appreciate it.”

Fortunately for Carewyn, Andre wasn’t the best at picking up on other people’s pretenses. Unfortunately for Carewyn, two of his most regular confidantes were his cousin KC and fencing instructor Erika, and they did pick up on Carewyn’s odd behavior.

“She said she wanted to surprise her cousin with something for his birthday?” asked KC, frowning deeply. 

“Well, yeah,” said Andre. “I admit, it seemed a little weird to do something so nice without even wanting credit, but Carewyn is an awfully selfless sort. From the way she made it sound, she just wanted to do something nice for him.”

“And you believed her?” said Erika rather coldly. 

She whacked Andre’s practice sword out of his hand with her own, making the Crown Prince hiss in pain. 

“I’ve told you before, Prince Henri -- you all may think Carewyn Cromwell’s nothing like her family, but that’s absolute bunk. She might be more pleasant than them, but she’s not stupid and she’s not honest. Or did you not notice that that weird guy she hangs out with keeps calling her ‘his lady,’ as if she weren’t the penniless orphan of a deadbeat merchant?”

Erika picked up Andre’s sword and tossed it back to him with ease. 

“Then of course that guy himself is shady as all get out.”

Andre frowned. “You mean Orion? Come on, Erika, he isn’t that bad -- I thought he seemed quite amiable, myself. Don’t you agree, KC?”

“He is,” said KC fairly. “But Erika isn’t completely off-base. There is a lot about Orion that we don’t know -- that even Carewyn herself doesn’t know. She admitted as much to me, after I first met him. That being said,” she raised her own sword and got into position to attack Andre, “I don’t think Orion’s a threat. You would think anyone with the ability to sneak over the palace walls not once but twice would’ve tried to make some move to attack you by now, but he’s only ever come looking for Carewyn. And although I don’t completely understand the reason behind why she’s acting like a lady around him,” she shot Erika a faintly reproachful look as she and Andre traded blows, “I’m pretty sure it has more to do with her own insecurities than because she’s a terrible person -- ow! Damn it!”

Andre had successfully disarmed KC. 

“Insecurities?” he said, his eyebrows furrowing in concern. “What is there for her to be insecure about? I mean, yes, she has no dowry, and taking Orion’s wardrobe into account, I’d suppose he has to come from a family with modest wealth -- but Orion seemed to enjoy the Weasleys’ company quite well, and their family is poor. I think they’d make a lovely match, really,” he added with a rather smug grin. “They even matched at the Festival, without realizing it.”

KC massaged her wrist, frowning a bit sourly. “Yes...but Carewyn is solely under Lord Cromwell’s charge. He’s the one who sent her here. He’s the only guardian she really has. And I think it’s quite clear how much influence he has over his family -- even his daughters who married into other esteemed families still live at his estate with their husbands and children, rather than moving out onto their own estates. And in Carewyn’s case, she doesn’t even have a parent to help shield her from Lord Cromwell’s will. She doesn’t have a penny to her name. So that means, in effect, she’s chained to him, and in those circumstances...well...”

She hesitated. 

"Well what?” Andre prompted her. 

KC looked incredibly uncomfortable. 

“I didn’t want to say anything before without knowing for sure...but I think someone’s been looking at our military ledgers, documenting troop placements. Everything’s neatly put away the way they should be, but there are more fingerprints on them than before. And usually I’m the only one who has much use to look those up, whenever I’m ready to suggest a new war strategy...”

Erika’s eyes narrowed very sharply and she got right up into KC’s space. “And you’re only just saying this now?! That information could be critical to Royaume’s enemies! What if that guy Orion sneaked in not just to see Cromwell, but to get his hands on those? Or what if it was Cromwell herself, working in collusion with him?”

“Impossible,” Andre said forcefully. “Carewyn would never be a spy for the enemy -- it’s not in her character.”

“And I don’t think Orion would know where those documents would be, even if he did sneak in,” said KC. 

Erika, however, looked unconvinced as she made for the door. “You can coddle those two all you want, but I plan to tell the King and Queen -- they’ll want to interrogate Cromwell and this ‘Orion Freeman’...”

“Erika, belay that!” Andre said in a suddenly much sharper and more authoritative voice. “That’s an order.”

Once Erika had stopped walking and turned back around, the Crown Prince exhaled heavily and crossed his arms in a business-like manner. 

“I’ll get to the bottom of this,” he said firmly. “If Carewyn is heading to the Cromwell estate, she’ll have to take the road through town, correct? I’ll simply take a horse and follow the road after her.”

Erika and KC looked startled. 

“Uh, Andre,” said KC, “you haven’t forgotten that you’re not allowed to leave the palace, have you?”

Andre smirked. “No. I’m just sneaking out.”

Before Erika and KC could articulate an argument, he added in a much sassier voice, “Look, I’m doing it whether you come with me or not. I’d appreciate the company if you want to come along -- all I expect is that you’ll dress appropriately. I hear linens and cottons are fashionable for those who don’t wish to attract attention.”

And so Andre, KC, and Erika made preparations to follow Carewyn...completely unaware that a half-hour earlier, Bill and Charlie Weasley had -- after having a similar, but much more concerned conversation with Badeea Ali about Carewyn clearly lying to Andre’s face -- decided to take their horses and tail their friend themselves. And sure enough, the two eldest Weasleys soon enough found themselves following Carewyn on the road heading northeast, avoiding the Cromwell estate all together.

At the very same time, in Florence, Orion had finalized his plan. Today was the day he was going to request a formal audience with Prince Henri, as Prince Cosimo VII. As Carewyn had said, he’d need to act fast if he was going to stop his father from finding a way to complete his own ruthless strategy -- the battlefield itself would be a difficult place for Orion to make his case, with so many distractions, but he knew a more balanced, peaceful setting wouldn’t be. And so he wrote a long letter to the King, explaining everything that he had learned from Royaume and its people as well as Florence’s own, so as to make a case for peace. He then had the court magician Severus Snape deliver it to the Florentine camp in his stead, while he dressed in his finest and prepared to leave for Royaume. 

When he made as if to take his own horse, however, Orion found Skye and McNully waiting for him, a black coach already prepared. 

“If you’re planning on going to meet Prince Henri, you really should arrive in style,” said McNully with a wry smile. “A good first impression to the King and Queen would help your case by a good 45%.”

“And you have to know there’s no way in Hell we’re going to let you go out and expose your true identity to the enemy without back-up,” Skye added, her arms crossed over her chest. “

Orion’s black eyes softened. “...Thank you.”

As he climbed into the carriage, both McNully and Skye’s faces nonetheless betrayed some hesitation. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” McNully asked. “There’s a 74% chance they’ll respond badly to it -- I reckon there’s a 39.5% chance they’ll try to arrest you on the spot and hold you as a prisoner of war...”

“I carry no weapons with me, and I come with the explicit purpose of diplomacy,” said Orion levelly. “Therefore I’m not an enemy combatant. As long as I follow their direction while under their roof, then any harm they might do me would be violating the conventions of war...and the Royaumanians, for all of their flaws, do have honor.”

“One could make a case for you having been involved in espionage, though,” McNully pointed out, but Orion ignored him and settled down in the carriage, crossing his legs offhandedly. 

“What about Lady Cromwell?” said Skye, her voice a bit lower and more concerned. “She’ll find out you’re a Florentine. And not just any Florentine, the Prince of Florence.”

Something sad flickered through Orion’s confident, unflappable expression.

“She was going to learn the truth sooner or later,” he murmured. “If our time together has come to an end...then at least I may have the memories to hold onto...and the knowledge that by ending this War peacefully, I may have spared her of more heartache.”

He closed his eyes and began to meditate, clearly having said his piece on the matter. Skye and McNully, however, couldn’t help but exchange a look that was both anxious and very sad. 

As long as they’d known Orion, he’d always been a little reckless, but he was also passive and avoided direct confrontation. This plan to directly appeal to Royaume’s royal family, however, required a lot of guts  -- far more than either of them had thought Orion possessed. And they knew such courage could only have been encouraged by one person...the very same person who Orion loved so much that he would choose to follow her example and protect what she loved, even if it meant destroying their relationship forever. 

Orion meditated during most of the journey to the Royaumanian palace. It was merely fortunate that, as they approached, McNully broke him out of his trance by tapping him on the shoulder and pointing out the window. If he hadn’t, then Orion would not have seen a rather familiar trio of riders on horseback, riding through town past them -- a short, stocky lady with dark red hair and freckles; a very tall blonde with a square jaw and sharp eyes; and a very handsome dark-skinned man dressed in a purple tunic, emerald green pants, and gold-buckled black boots. 

“Stop the carriage!” said Orion, his soft, level voice nonetheless very firm despite not rising in volume. 

He barely waited for the carriage to completely stop before slamming the door open and jumping out.

“Andre! KC!”

Andre, KC, and Erika all stopped their horses in an abrupt halt and turned around as Orion dashed up to them.

“Orion?” said Andre, startled. 

KC looked from the rather finely dressed Orion to the expensive-looking black coach behind him and back. Erika’s eyes narrowed critically upon Orion as he came to a stop in front of them, his hands clasping in front of him. 

“I...had not expected to see you out and about,” said Orion, trying to put on his most pleasant, calm expression. 

Andre glanced over his shoulder up the road, frowning deeply. “Yes, well...some business has come up.”

“Orion, have you seen Carewyn?” KC asked him, her face very serious. 

Orion blinked. 

“Not since last night,” he said. He could feel his heart starting to beat faster. “Why? Is something wrong?”

“Never you mind,” barked Erika, as she turned back to the road. “Come on, we don’t want to lose the trail -- ”

“Erika,” reproached Andre, before he turned back to Orion, his face visibly concerned. “...Carewyn asked for the afternoon off to go see her family, but it was very last minute, which isn’t like her. And according to what we’ve heard in town, there’s been no traffic down the road toward the Cromwell estate in the last four hours...”

“So Carewyn had to have been lying about where she was going,” finished KC, her face much more stoic but her voice no less tense. “We need to find her and figure out why.”

Orion’s eyebrows had furrowed over his widening black eyes. His heartbeat was slamming in his ears as the memory of Carewyn in the woods returned to him -- looking northward, toward the army camps, as if longing to run toward them --

“I know where she’s gone,” he said at once. 

He rushed back to the coach, grabbing onto the window frame and standing on the boot of the carriage. 

“To the northern border,” he urged Skye, who sat in the driver’s seat. “Quickly!”

“The border?” repeated Skye as a sharp whisper. “But Orion, your meeting with the Prince -- ”

“Can come later,” Orion told her very firmly under his breath. “Both he and I must get to the war front.”

He shot a significant look over his shoulder in Andre’s direction. McNully, putting two-and-two together, nodded and inched himself up to the window of the carriage. 

“If you tie one or more of your horses to the carriage, we should decrease our travel time by a good 21% per horse,” he told Erika, KC, and Andre. “If Carewyn left an hour ago, then with one horse, we should be able to overtake her within an half-hour -- two, within twenty minutes, and three, within ten. Though with Orion on the boot, there’s a 12% chance he’ll fall off if we ride at full speed, so we might have to go at 95% instead -- ”

KC fixed the blond-haired man with an incredulous look as she leapt off her horse. 

“Are you really calculating all that on the fly,” she asked, looking as if she wasn’t sure whether to be impressed or amused, “or are you just pulling those numbers out of fat air?”

McNully couldn’t help but grin. “Excellent! Now I can officially say that I’ve been asked that question over a hundred times before.” 

Still looking faintly bewildered, KC moved to help Andre, who’d quickly started attaching his, Erika’s, and her horse’s to the front of the carriage with the two black ones already pulling it, ignoring Erika’s incredibly sour and distrustful expression. There was no time to lose. 

From the boot of the carriage, Orion directed Skye down the same road he’d taken with Carewyn the previous night, Andre, Erika, and KC riding with McNully inside the coach. Once they’d reached the forest, Orion caught sight of a familiar-looking golden eagle with a bandaged wing -- at the sight of the Florentine prince, the eagle gave a loud shriek and flew down into the trees, and Orion urged Skye to pursue him into the woods. The road took them deep into the trees, until at last the eagle landed on a branch over the heads of two familiar-looking ginger-haired men, who were bound with thick rope to a tree. 

Bill and Charlie were stunned at the sight of such an elegant coach, but were absolutely beside themselves with relief at the sight of Andre, KC, and Erika. Erika immediately yanked a knife out of her ankle boot and set about sawing off their bindings -- once she’d cut Charlie free, he immediately rushed forward and grabbed Andre’s shoulders. 

“We’ve got to hurry!” he said anxiously. “They’ve got Carey!”

“‘They?’” said Andre, very startled. “They who?”

“This band of Florentine bandits,” said Bill, his voice very low and urgent. He kept maneuvering his bindings as Erika cut them to try to sever them faster. “They cornered us so they could try to rob us -- they were willing to let Carey go since she was a lady, but she bartered with the leader, saying that they could take her so long as they left us alone. Claimed that they could probably get more money from holding her hostage than us, given her family...”

Both Skye and McNully glanced at Orion. The Prince’s face had lost most of its color -- he’d turned his face away and closed his eyes, breathing in and out slowly as he tried to stabilize his emotions. 

“The bandits in these woods are Florentines, so I doubt they will harm you,” Baroness McGonagall’s words returned to his mind, “but I cannot be sure how they would respond to a Royaumanian, especially one related to one of their wealthiest noblemen.”

“They took all three of our horses and tied us to the tree so that we wouldn’t follow them,” growled Charlie. “They left us a knife so that we’d be able to cut ourselves free, but it’s so dull I reckon it would’ve taken us hours to do it ourselves...”

Bill succeeded in snapping the weakened ropes in half and leapt back to his feet, massaging his wrists. 

“They must have taken her to a camp of theirs,” said KC, her dark blue eyes narrowing. “Even bandits need some base of operation.”

McNully nodded, resting his arms on the edge of the coach’s window. “The lady is right. Given where we are, I’d say the odds are fairer that it’s southeast of here.”

“Closer to the Florentine side of the border, you mean,” presumed KC, and McNully nodded again. 

“They were heading south through the woods,” said Bill. “But we won’t want to bring the coach. They stopped us because they wanted money -- if they have any reason to think any of you have it, they’ll no doubt want to imprison you too...”

“On the contrary,” said Orion in a very low voice, “this carriage may be just the thing we need, to ensure that they don’t imprison us.”

Everyone looked at Orion, their faces all a mixture of incredulity and revulsion, but he seemed disinterested in explaining himself. 

“We must be quick, McNully,” said Orion, and although his voice and face were as level and unreadable as ever, they both betrayed a slight edge. “Time is not on our side.”

With Bill now sitting with the driver’s seat next to Skye and Charlie hanging off the boot with Orion, the black coach set off again. Overhead Orion caught sight of the wounded eagle again, which shrieked at them warningly -- the Prince thought it must mean they were close, but did not respond fast enough to the trap set out in front of them. 

The coach rode right through a certain cluster of vines, and within seconds, they had magically sprung to life, lashing themselves around the limbs of the five horses pulling the coach. The steeds reared back, panicked -- Skye immediately yanked out a sword from her belt and began hacking away at them, and Erika and Andre both leapt from the carriage with their own swords to help, but it was no use. The vines only lashed onto them, binding all three of them fast and making it impossible for them to move. And when things seemed like they couldn’t be any worse, without warning, a group of green-dressed men and women had swung down from more vines attached to the nearby trees, surrounding them in a tight noose-like circle and pointing their arrow-decked bows at them. 

They were trapped. 

“Well, well,” said a voice from the trees above, “we don’t often see coaches that ritzy out here.”

The voice’s owner leapt down to the ground. Unlike his companions, his hooded tunic was yellow instead of green. When he lifted his head enough that they could see his face, it was the host of a mischievous smirk. 

“Especially ones crafted in Florence,” the dark-haired and eyed bandit said breezily. 

Andre, KC, Erika, and the Weasleys all stiffened. 

“Florence?” breathed Bill. 

They all as a unit whirled on Orion. His face was remarkably calm and solemn as he stepped off the coach and in front of the others and faced the bandits’ leader, his hands clasped in front of him. 

“We do not come seeking trouble,” he said. “We merely come to retrieve a lady who surrendered herself to you. Frame like a robin’s. Hair the color of a red sunset. Eyes the color of the sky.”

The bandit’s leader raised his eyebrows curiously. “The maid called Cromwell?”

“That is her.”

“And what reason would you desire her in your custody?” challenged one of the green-dressed bandits with a cocked eyebrow, a dashing man with tanned skin and dark brown hair. 

“Wants to ransom her off himself, no doubt,” sneered another woman with messy brown hair and cold magenta eyes. “He probably works for Lord Malfoy -- we all know he’s the sort to make money off illicit enterprises and keep it all to himself, rather than give it to anyone who actually needs it...”

Two of the other bandits -- a pair of women with long red and short pink hair, respectively -- exchanged a sour look. 

“We have nothing to do with Lord Malfoy,” spat Skye, vainly tugging against the vines binding her. “We wouldn’t collaborate with that rat if you paid us -- !”

“Skye,” said Orion in a quelling voice. 

The last bandit, a very strong-looking man with dark red hair and emerald green eyes, frowned deeply at the leader, who considered Orion carefully. 

“I know your face,” he murmured. 

Orion inclined his head, his black eyes boring into the other man’s face. “I’m sure you do.”

The leader’s thin-lidded eyes narrowed critically -- then they widened, realizing. 

“Bring out Lady Cromwell at once,” he said abruptly. 

The others all whirled on him. 

“What?!” cried all three women and the dashing man. 

“Jae, are you mad?!” said the woman with the magenta eyes. 

“Do it,” said the leader called Jae firmly, without flinching. 

The strong bandit -- the only one who hadn’t questioned the leader’s direction -- grabbed a vine, which immediately retracted back up above them. 

Jae glanced at the magenta-eyed woman. “Merula, have the vines set them loose.”

Merula looked rather scandalized. “What? Oh come on, you know how much of a pain it is, to have to recast a spell after it’s broken -- ”

“Better that we do it now than wait around for the spell to expire on its own,” Jae said dryly. 

Still looking very reluctant, Merula nonetheless did as she was told, holding up her hand, which glowed with light green. 

“The terms are now invalid,” she muttered sourly at the plants. 

The plants sparkled with a similar green flare before falling limply off of the horses, Andre, Erika, and Skye. KC and Bill moved to detangle the now harmless plants from their companions and around the horses’ legs, and Charlie moved to soothe the frightened steeds. 

Within a minute, the strong bandit was back, holding onto the vine easily with one hand and holding Carewyn under his opposite arm. She had her ginger hair tied back in a loose bun and was dressed in the green peasant dress she’d worn to the Festival and her slightly oversized brown shoes -- no doubt because it was the most comfortable dress for travel she had. Orion was also beyond relieved to see that she was perfectly unharmed -- not a single cut or bruise. 

“CAREWYN!” cried KC, Andre, Bill and Charlie in relief. 

All three of the men immediately dashed right over to her and threw their arms around her in a group hug. 

“It’s all right,” Carewyn reassured them with a small smile. “I’m all right.”

“They didn’t hurt you?” Bill interrogated her. 

“You must have been terrified -- ” said Andre. 

“Where are the horses?” asked Charlie. 

“Tied up in a makeshift stable over there,” said the pink-haired bandit with a wry grin and a vague hand gesture. 

“A bit tricky to lug them up into treehouses,” added the red-haired one cheekily. “And no, for the record, we did not hurt Carewyn Cromwell. She may be a stick in the mud, but she’s a decent sort.”

“And brave too!” said the muscled man, beaming. “She wasn’t scared at all, not even when Merula stuck a knife in her face!”

“I was only getting fed up with her smart remarks,” huffed the magenta-eyed bandit called Merula. “You’d think she was the Queen of Sheba, with how she acts...”

“She is a proper lady, to be sure,” said the dashing bandit, shooting Carewyn a rather Casanova-like smile. 

Carewyn tried to stifle a snort of laughter behind her hand as Jae approached her. 

“Seems you’ll have an escort after all, Carewyn,” he said, lowering his bow with a slightly more serious look. “I don’t think I can convince you to reconsider, but under the circumstances...well, just make sure you’re careful. I’d hate to hear of Royaume losing one of its only honorable citizens due to their own stupidity.”

Carewyn inclined her head to him, her blue eyes very solemn. “I’m far from Royaume’s most honorable citizen, Jae, nor from any other country, I daresay. But thank you.”

Jae nodded. He then looked up at Orion. 

“By your leave then, your Highness,” he said with an abbreviated bow. 

He then nodded to the other bandits, and one by one, they all disappeared back up into the trees. 

None of the people on the ground, however, gave them much mind. All of them had turned back around to face Orion -- Carewyn felt like her heart had stopped still as she stared, taking in his neat ponytail and finely tailored black doublet and hose and boots. 

“...‘Your Highness?’ ” repeated Charlie, shocked. 

Andre’s eyes widened. “Then...then you’re...?”

Orion swallowed, but somehow managed to keep his composure as he nodded. His eyes were locked on Carewyn’s face, never shifting and as turbulent as a black ocean. 

“King Cosimo’s new heir,” KC breathed, her face flooding with fresh understanding around her amazement. “Cosimo VII.”

[missdawnandherdusk]

A Guy Worth Getting Expelled For

Draco X Gryffindor!Reader

Part One    Part Two    Part Three    

Part Four     Part Five

Summary: So maybe you and Draco figured out that you don’t have to hate each other... but that about the rest of the school? 

A/N: Who is ReADy foR ThiS!? Because I promise you all, you’re not. It’s been one of my favorite parts so far but let me know what you think! I love you guys and your feedback so don’t be afraid to comment or reblog! (Also this is over 3k words because I have no self control anymore)

Tags: @un-limiteddd @geekysimmerthings @coffee-addicti @ilikestuffproductions @msmcsmutt @ravn-87 @artemismohr18 @whygz @crazywritingbug @dolphincommander @bisexualbumblebeesstuff @fuzzy-panda @bitemebro522 @zombiesnips-blog @jillanaholland @shookyungsoo @savingdraco @welcometomyworldwithoutrules @akari180 @slytherin-emerald @chaotic-good-gemini @memalfoy-spidey

The weekend passed, and due to final exams, I was holed up in my room most of the time. That’s what was nice about rooming with Hermione, I could cook my own food—the Muggle way—and she wouldn’t tell on me. Ramen was a lifesaver as we studied.

I hadn’t heard form Draco at all. Part of me wondered if he figured it out. The letter he wrote to me was getting worn form the amount of times that I unfolded and refolded it each time I reread his words.

The boys did coax us both down to dinner Sunday night, however. They weren’t quite convinced that I was fine and were still at my defense despite my change in mood and constant protests. In fact, it seemed like every Gryffindor in our year and then some were ready at my defense.

“Do you want us to sneak a doxy into his room?” Fred offered. “We’ll do it. Free of charge.” 

“No, I’m okay, really,”

“We could do it anyway,” George suggested.

“No,” I said firmly as we sat in the Great Hall.

Dinner came and passed, and I didn’t have to look over my shoulder for Draco because Ron and Harry were doing a great job of that already. There was no way I was going to be able to walk to Draco with this... protection squad hovering—and not listening to me when I said I was fine.

My heart did flutter as both Harry and Ron tensed, glaring at the door to the Hall. A smile found its way to my face as I turned, finding clam blue eyes.

“I’ll get him,” Harry said, getting up from the table and Ron following suit.

“Guys, wait, no!” I scrambled to get up, tripping over my robes before righting myself, a few paces behind them, Hermione at my heels.

The students who were in the Hall also noticed what was going on and all looked our way. Some stood to get a better look. This was going to get very bad very fast if someone didn’t do something. And, apparently, I had to be that someone.

“You have some nerve Malfoy!” Harry sneered, drawing his wand.

My adrenaline spiked as Draco kept his cool, keeping his eyes on me. I tried to tell him that this wasn’t my idea and that they didn’t know and that I would fix this, but maybe that was too much to tell him in one look.

I caught up to Harry and pushed past him. Turning and facing Harry—the same way that Draco had done for me against Pansy—I glared him down.

“What are you doing!?” I demanded. “I told you! It was fine!”

“But he hurt you! He deserves this!” Harry exclaimed.

“Pansy was the one who made me cry not Draco!” I laid out. “He... He protected me from her,”

Harry gaped at me and so did Ron, Hermione was beaming. There was a rumbling through the students who had gathered around us. Why did I keep finding myself in these situations?

“No way, I don’t believe it,” Harry hissed. “Malfoy would never, and not for you.”

“And how would you know!?” I demanded. “You’re so absorbed in yourself that you never stop to look, or think, or ask questions!”

“So now you’re taking his side!?” Harry fumbled.

I scoffed and threw my hands up in exasperation.

“Why does there have to be sides!? Why do we have to fight!?” 

“He’s a Slytherin!”

“Great! And I’m a Pisces! What does it matter!” I annunciated each word, taking a few calming breaths. “He deserves to be helped and loved as much as you do Harry,” My voice was barely audible.

Now Harry was glaring me down, his anger shifting from Draco to me, which was fine, I could handle Harry easy—Golden Boy or not.

There was a hand on my shoulder.

I turned, meeting Draco’s eyes.

“I’m not worth this.” He murmured softly. “Don’t... not because of me.”

He was so close now. I could feel the fear and desperation almost tangibly as he pleaded with me to back down, and maybe that broke me more. For him to think that he wasn’t worth saving. That he wasn’t worth fighting for.

“Did you figure it out?” I asked softly, completely ignoring Harry and the others behind me. Draco held my focus now. “Who sent me the letter and who I told my mother about?”

He nodded and looked down. How could he know that he was the one that I had chosen, and he still didn’t think it was right for me to fight for him?

“What? Is Malfoy jealous over who you’re crushing on?” Ron jeered and the crowd snickered.

Draco turned red, gritting his teeth, I saw his hand reach for his wand, but I beat him to it and drew mine. Spinning around, almost hissing at Ron, everyone backed away from me, sensing the danger I assumed.

“I don’t think he can be jealous,” I snapped, tilting my chin back. “But the rest of you can,”

Without much thought or time in the moments between, I grabbed Draco’s hand and pulled him closer. I met his eyes for an instant, and I could see and feel the coolness of a lake, the refreshing wave of the ocean. There was an electric current between us.

I brought my hand to cup his face ever so gently—grimacing when he flinched as if I was going to hit him—and quickly pressed my lips to his. He froze under my touch but relaxed almost instantly, which was a bit shocking, but comforting. His hands rested on my waist and he pulled me a step closer.

His lips were soft and hesitant on mine. The electric current didn’t wane, instead it seemed to be stronger than before. It was better than what any potion could offer, or spell could conjure.

I had to pull away in fear that I might spend all night kissing him.

The situation around us settled back in, and though neither of us could keep the smiles off our faces it was Draco who spoke before I could.

“If anyone has anything they’d like to say, you’ll answer to both of us,” There was smugness and pride in his voice as he said ‘us.’

I couldn’t lie, I liked it too.

The crowd broke out into mutters and whispers, some of which were encouraging, some baffled, and some downright cruel—most of which came from either Gryffindor or Slytherin. My hand found Draco’s as an anchor in the midst of it all, not sure what was coming next.

Harry stormed off and Ron gave an apologetic look before going after him and Hermione followed suit. As much as I was alright on standing on my own, their absence hurt.

“Mr. Malfoy! Miss Lupine! My office! Now!” It was McGonagall.

My heart sank as the students scattered in fear of also getting in trouble for something that they may or may not have done. It left Draco and me alone walking to McGonagall’s office under her gaze. Somewhere along the way Snape caught up to us, and to my surprise, Dumbledore.

I gave Draco an apologetic look, but his face was a mask of calm and indifference—courage in the face of danger. I followed his lead as we sat in McGonagall’s office as the three discussed what to do with us outside the door.

“Why didn’t you tell me it was me? When we were on the stairs?” He asked softly.

I shrugged.

“I don’t think I was ready,” I admitted. “It was... a hard day.”

“Sorry again,” He mumbled sheepishly.

We sat side by side together, waiting for whatever was about to happen. I feared for the worst and I could tell do did Draco. The memory of his lips on mine however, kept me somewhat same and comforted.

“I’m sorry I dragged you into all of this,” I whispered. “This is all my fault,” 

“No, it’s not Y/n. You know that,” He argued. “I had a good part in it too.”

“I should have just left it alone,” Tears were in my eyes as I started to realize the gravity of the situation.

“No,” He said firmly, catching my eyes. “You’re right, this has gone on too long.”

Again, his hand slipped into mine and I felt grounded. It was odd, finding comfort in someone that I had hated only a few months ago.

The three Professors came down and we dropped our hands quickly, as we both looked down.

“It has come to our attention that you two have caused quite a bit of trouble,” Dumbledore began.

“Please, sir. It was me. Not her.” Draco stood, taking a small step in front of me.

Shock flitted across the faces of the professors, and mine. I didn’t know what I was expecting but it wasn’t that.

“No, it was me. I’m the one who kissed him and provoked Harry.” I stood next to him, almost pushing him out of the way. “Whatever punishment... I’ll take it in full... even if that means expulsion.” My voice wavered as the words slipped out.

“Y/n,” Draco protested and turned to me.

“Your dad will kill you in you get in trouble because of me,” I argued. “And... I can’t let that happen. So... please, Draco,”

I didn’t know what I was asking for exactly, but I knew that if his father found out... he’d be in worse trouble than whatever the school could come up with.

“No, forget about my father. I don’t care what he thinks. You’re not talking all the fault. I won’t let you,”

I bit my lip, thousands of words wanting to escape them just as the tears that threatened to fall. Why hadn’t I seen this in him before? Why hadn’t anyone?

Draco Malfoy could be good. He could be selfless. He could be loved.

“If I may,” Dumbledore began again. “Neither of you are in trouble nor are you getting expelled.”

“What?” We both snapped, turning to the three professors.

Hope fluttered in my chest, that maybe once we would both be okay. That we could both make it out of here.

_______________________

Out in the hall...

“Has it happened?” Dumbledore asked. “The legacy?”

“Yes,” McGonagall confirmed. “I got a letter from her mother early Saturday to keep an eye out, and I saw it tonight at dinner.”

“You believe that these two are the ones to end the feud?” Snape asked cautiously.

“Something much darker than us all is coming Severus,” Dumbledore sighed. “And they might be the ones we need to stop it.”

“But I don’t understand why stopping an old family feud solves anything.” Snape hissed.

“Because it’s not a family feud, it’s a house feud and always has been. For too long Slytherin and Gryffindor have been pitched against one another unhealthily and perhaps this can right what has been wrong for so long,” McGonagall noted hopefully.

............................

“Miss Lupine, you should be expecting a letter from your mother soon. I suggest you both read it together and decide for yourselves whether you want to accept what is in it or not.” Dumbledore explained.

“What kind of letter?” I prompted and McGonagall gave me a scolding look as Dumbledore simply smile.

“Oh, you are so much like your mother,” His eyes twinkled. “Give her my best and please remember, each of you are more than a name,”

_________________________

Draco walked down the hall with you beside him. He couldn’t think of a thing to say. There were too many to say. There was too much to talk about and it was driving him mad that you were lost in thought.

“Any ideas on where to go? To read the letter?” You finally spoke.

Your voice sounded unsure and afraid, with a nervousness that came with expectation. He had never heard you speak like that. You were always so sure of yourself—courageous, like any proper Gryffindor.

But now, your eyes filled with tears and worry. Your arms were crossed across your chest, as if they had the ability to keep you together if you held on tight enough. He knew that you never showed anyone this side of you—not even that Mudb- your friend Hermione. Because he never showed anyone either.

“Come with me,” He said, not giving anything away and led you through the castle wordlessly.

You followed him without a protest, a quip, snide remark, or question. And he couldn’t lie, it was nice; it worried him too, being afraid wasn’t in your nature.

Taking a sharp right, he paused, opening the door for you. You quirked an eyebrow and a teasing smile. You knew where he led you and it amused you, he could see it in your features. That was the you he knew.

You ascended the staircase and through the trapdoor with him at your heels. You faltered one and he caught you easily—knowing it would happen: it was the reason he had made you go before him—your cheeks turning a deep red as you quickened your pace.

Alone in the Astronomy Tower, Draco saw a small screech owl awaiting the two of you, letter attached. It was the same owl who had given him your letter all those nights ago, it must be yours.

You didn’t go to the owl—even though it chirped at you annoyed. Instead, you went to the window and stared at what he did almost every night that he couldn’t sleep: the stars blanketed over the mountain range and the lake as night consumed the world around them.

Knowing that you would want to gaze for some time, he took the letter for the owl and shooed it off, but it remained.

“I’ll give you something later Penelope, thank you,” You cooed softly stroking the birds head gently before it flew off.

Unsure of his actions, Draco stood close beside you, watching the night unfold with you. Your hand found his and his thoughts about what needed to be answered or what the letter held paused. Your warmth invited him in, lured him to be still and just... feel.

“I’m scared,” The confession left your lips. “I’ve been waiting my whole life for my mother to tell me what this fight was all about and now...” You turned to him, true despair on your face.

“Whatever it is, we do it together,” He murmured, “Remember, we get to choose if we want to accept it or not,”

“But don’t we have to?” Your thoughts mirrored his: he had expectations to live up to and he wanted to prove himself to his father and his family.

“We’ll see,” He reached up and stroked your face softly.

You pursed your lips as he offered you the letter. You took it and with one last hopeless look to him you opened it and read it aloud:

~

My dearest Y/n, and charming Draco,

I hope this letter finds you both well. I have written to each of your House Heads letting them know to give you time to read this together if fate allows.

Y/n, my darling, please stop your fretting, I can feel it from here. You are alright no matter what you choose, but I do hope you choose the path of love.

Draco, hello, we haven’t met formally, but I must thank you for standing up for my daughter against one of your own house. It was a brave and kind thing to do and you have my deepest respect.

Now, about the feud. I know you have asked many times what it has always been about and perhaps it is time to finally tell you:

Our families have always been intertwined in the fate of the wizarding world as pure-blood families. Long ago, it was said that one of Lupine and one of Malfoy decent would be the ones to mend the rift between pure-bloods and muggle-born.

You can see why this caused such a feud. I’m sure even now Mr. Draco you are thinking that this is preposterous, and perhaps you as well my child. For how can two pure-bloods whom hate another possible med anything?

Well, no one knows. And no one wanted to know either. The Malfoy’s were always against muggle-born and swore vengeance on them all. The Lupine’s have always been proud and swore to never fraternize with a Malfoy. Centuries and generations passed, and our stories have been twisted and distorted to what you know today.

I did try my love to keep you away as best I could from it, but some things are very deep rooted, and I am sorry that I failed you. But now it comes to you two.

From what I have heard from you my darling, it sounds as if Mr. Draco may be the one you were meant for. It was once called Consentire Animi Pace—an old thought that souls reached for another to bring harmony in the world around them through magic.

I am not forcing this upon either you, nor am I making assumptions. I would just like you both to know that it does exist and not to deny that it does and that it may be what our Antiqui were speaking of when the legacy was given.

My darling Y/n, I am proud of you no matter your choice and I love you without a doubt. I am proud of your achievements and your courage to reach out to someone you had no reason to reach out to.

My dear Draco, I am proud of you no matter your choice and I extend my love to you as well. I know that your parents are not as forgiving when it comes to family names as I am. You will have a home in our family—whether that be Y/n and I or the entire family if they decide to stop being so... Anyway. I am proud of you as well and for what you have done. You had no reason to protect my daughter and you did and I am proud of you on that fact alone. You have truly exceeded your expectations, whether your father sees that or not.

Don’t not be afraid of what is before you nor the choices that you must make. It is not about the right choice; it is about the righteous one—the one made with the right heart. It is easier to correct ignorance rather than disobedience.

My love goes to you both, both of you write me back please. 

Love, Magdalene Lupine

~

.

.

Part 7

[destiel-owns-my-ass]

Destiel 15x18 Coda

I was waiting for someone to drop a coda for that scene in 15x18 and since y’all didn’t come through fast enough, I wrote it myself. I really hope y’all like this bc i poured my heart into it. Also this is hella sad and angsty so please get ready for that. Enjoy!

--------

The loud pounding on the door every minute or two made Dean even more distraught than he had been already. Death would get through this door any minute and take him. And there was nothing he could do about it. "She's gonna get through that door." Dean voiced his concerns out loud. He slowly stepped towards Cas, hoping maybe the angel had any idea how to get them out of this situation.

"I know. Cas wouldn't even look at him. 

"And she's gonna kill you, and then she's gonna kill me." How could the angel stay so calm in moments like this? They were about to die. Did he not understand the seriousness of the situation? The door kept pounding in the backround, making it impossible to stay calm. "I'm sorry." This was all his fault. If it wouldn't have been his stupid idea to confront death they wouldn't be here right now. "Wait, there is- There's one thing she's afraid of." Dean raised his gaze from the floor, looking at Cas with new found hope in his eyes. "There's- There's one thing strong enough to stop her." Cas continued. He turned to face Dean, with a look the hunter couldn't describe. Desperate, but somehow with a glimpse of hope in his eyes. He had no idea what the angel was talking about, but maybe there was a way out of this situation. Dean searched Cas face for answers before he continued. "When Jack was dying, I- I made a deal to save him." "You what?" What the fuck had that to do with this situation? And why hadn't the angel told him sooner? A surge of anger swelled up in his breast but Dean tried to ignore it. "The- The price was my life."

What? Shock and confusion filled the hunter. 

"When I experienced a moment of true happiness, the empty would be summoned and it would take me forever." "Why are you telling me this now?" Dean was trying to put the pieces together in his mind but this was all happening so fast. Billie kept banging on the door, and made it impossible to form a conherent thought. "I always wondered, ever since I took that burden, that curse, I wondered what could it be, what- what my true happiness could even look like." Dean wasn't following. "I never found an answer. Because the one thing I want... it's something I know I can't have." The door kept pounding in the backround. Dean had just gotten out of almost having a heartattack a few minutes ago and now this. It was just all too much in too little time. "But I think I know- I think I know now." Cas had an odd smile on his face. Was that relief? "Happiness isn't in the having. It's in just being. It's in just saying it.

"What are you talking about, man?" This didn't make sense. Not at this time. They were about to die. Why did Cas start monologing?

"I know. I know how you see yourself, Dean." Dean couldn't hide the confusion spreading in his face now. What did that have to do with anything? "You see yourself the same way our enemies see you. You're destructive and you're angry and you're broken. You're- You're Daddy's Blunt Instrument." No,no,no. Dean realised what direction this was turning into. He tried to keep his emotions at bay, the way he always did, but this was different. He felt his eyes tearing up. This couldn´t be happening. Not right now. "And you think hate and anger,that's- that's what drives you. That's who you are. It's not" Everything Dean wanted to do was to tell him to shut up. He had realised what was happening. He didn't know how or why- but it was. He could be wrong though. Dean begged to everything that meant anything to him that he was wrong. "And everyone who knows you sees it. Everything you have ever done, the good and the bad, you have done for love." What Cas was saying- he couldn't believe it. The shock washing over him right now was undeniable. "You raised your little brother for love. You fought this whole world for love. That is who you are. You´re the most caring man on Earth. You are the most selfless, loving human being I will ever know." Cas teared up too know.

Dean wished he could stop this, but whatever was happening right now... it felt final. The door kept pounding in the backound. Dean had to swallow. He couldn't comprehend what was happening right now. Too many emotions all at the same time, washing over him. He had never seen the angel behave this way.

"You know, ever since we met and ever since I pulled you out of Hell, knowing you has changed me." A teared rolled down his face now. Dean couldn't think, couldn't talk, couldn't do anything but watch and listen. "Because you cared, I cared. I cared about you. I cared about Sam. I cared about Jack. I cared about the whole world because of you." Dean looked the angel deeply in the eyes, not being able to hide his fear now. "You changed me, Dean." "Why does this sound like a goodbye?" "Because it is." This was happening too fast. Dean slighty shook his head. No. This couldn't be happening right now. Cas couldn't leave him again. "I love you." What? No, he was lying, no one could ever love him, broken as he was. Dean couldn't accept this. Not right now. Not when Death was literally knocking on the door. "Don't do this, Cas" He was screaming in his mind. Please don't do this now, this is the worst timing ever. Dean heard a strange sound and turned around. The empty was summoned. He couldn't stop his lip from trembling. He turned his back to the empty to look at the angel one last time.The one thing, Dean had wanted for years, Cas had just admitted to. But he couldn't be happy about it. Because he would leave him. He searched the blue eyes he had learned to love, for anything. Any sign that this wasn't real. That this wasn't happening right now. But before Dean managed to get anything else out of Cas, the door swung open with a bang, and Billie entered the room.

"Cas-" was all he managed to say before Cas laid his hand on Dean's shoulder. "Goodbye, Dean" "What?" The angel pushed Dean away and all the hunter could do was to watch the man he loved get taken away from him. The black goo took both the angel and Death in a matter of seconds, before he could even realise what was happening. Dean stared at the spot in the room, in which the empty had dissapeared into. All that was left now was a deafening silence. He couldn't stop the tears from rolling down his face now. Cas was gone. The man he loved was gone and Dean didn't even have a chance to tell him. His phone started ringing, but Dean didn't have the energy to answer it. He knew it was Sam and he couldn't tell his brother what had happened. Not yet. Instead he just sat on the floor, sobbing into his palms and swearing to himself, whatever it would cost, he would get the angel back.