#it is better to be cringe and free than based and restrained

[house-of-mirrors]

Wines for the Blorbo!

I set myself up for this, didn’t I

Made jokes about wanting to seduce Wines one too many times and it’s no longer a joke

As for the part about the muse,,,,, I used to write gay space poetry in college do NOT look at me

[plxtokid]

the fragility of what could be more than this - rebelcaptain oneshot

Pairing: Jyn x Cassian (rebelcaptain)

Rating: General Audience

Word Count: 1.7k

Prompt: “You’re burning up.”

Author’s Note: day two of posting these oneshots, I was considering Zelink again for this prompt but I wanted to switch it up a little (although many people told me Zelink would fit this perfectly so i’m inclined to go back and write a second version of this for them. Thank you @simpingfortsukki for your amazing editing talents, I owe u my life :’) You can find the link for the ao3 version of this here.

requests open, notes appreciated :) thanks for sticking around!

Cassian was uncomfortable, but Hoth was the closest thing to home he had known. Fest, the planet he was born on, was all ice and mountains. He found security in the large white hooded jackets they were given upon arrival to Hoth. From what he saw, Chirrut and Baze did not seem to bode as well as him, clinging to their jackets like the sands of Jedah once did to their clothes. Cassian wiped his face with his glove, trying to get as much of the snow off of his facial hair as he could before looking over at Jyn, who stood ridgid in the cold air. 

Hoth was colder than Jyn was comfortable with, and not quite what she was used to. Lah’mu was humid, dark earth, with a warm thick fog that held you close and kept you hidden. When she joined Saw’s militia she trained on Wrea. There were cold nights and her first puffed and hooded jackets, she remembered her small arms lost in the sleeves. But at least she had the ocean that lulled her to sleep every night, and there was life. 

Waiting to be greeted at the back of the main hanger, the draft from the large storm door blew straight through them. Cassian’s jaw clenched, and Jyn pulled her jacket hood as close to her face as possible. K-2SO, totally unbothered by the inclement weather watched as the group attempted to remain professional in the cold.

“General, what are our orders?” Andor turned to Rieekan, who was typing something into the console on the back wall. General Carlist Rieekan turned to them with a warm smile, as warm as it could be at least, and then quickly shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Please, go get some rest, you guys have been stuck up in that ship for a while now. Try to get adjusted, we’ll come for you when you are needed.” He threw up a salute, which the team returned before the General turned to speak to one of his commanders, who was waiting patiently beside him. Rogue One quickly left the hangar, the sound of their shoes scraping on the thinly iced floors not doing much to cover the sound of Jyn’s light cough. Cassian turned to her, but she looked away, pulling her hood down just enough to obscure her glassy eyes as they entered the base’s dining hall.

As the group sat down with their food, Cassian watched as Jyn downed a cup of warm herb water, faster than he had ever seen before. The group dug into their food, Cassian sipped at his cup timidly as it quickly grew cold. It was times like this that he missed the warmth of the sun. Even Scarif would have been better than this. He shuddered at the memory, turning in on himself. At the thought of a warm death. The idea of losing Jyn. He took a sip of his cold tea, looking over the rim of the cup at her as she finished her food.

“No,” he thought, “I’ll take this climate instead.” He tried not to think of why. Not now, with Jyn sitting scarcely a foot in front of him.

“Cassian, have you gotten any of the mission information yet?” Jyn asked through her gloves, holding them to her face to keep warm, and attempting to conceal her bright red nose. 

“No, after this I was going to speak to the General about our assignment,” he reached across the table and pulled her hands away from her face, “but I believe I must take care of you first.”

Jyn, taken aback, shook her head and put her gloves back on her cheeks. “I can take care of myself Cassian, you go take care of the mission. I’ll be alright.” The words came out of her mouth almost unnaturally as she processed his words. He quickly pulled off his glove and pushed her bangs aside, placing the back of his hand on Jyn’s forehead. 

“No you won't, you’re burning up Jyn,” he said almost urgently, getting up and walking away from the table. She wasn't sure if she was burning up from her cold or from how suddenly that had just occurred. Jyn and Baze both watched Cassian as he walked over to a neighboring  table and asked one of the commanders something, looking back to Jyn as they spoke. The commander, a woman with a large braid around her head, turned around and looked at her as well before turning back to Cassian with a small smile and a nod. Jyn blushed under the pink flush from the cold on her cheeks, and sunk further back into her hood as the woman quickly wrote something down on a scrap of paper and handed it to him. 

K-2SO turned to Jyn. “Cassian has quite the misled confidence to be able to walk up to the General Leia Organa like that.” She ignored him, taking another sip of her tea. “You can ignore me, but you know it’s your fault.”

Before she could register what the droid had said, Cassian was dragging her out of the dining hall, holding the piece of paper in his hand like his life depended on it.

“Who was that? Where are we going?” she asked, puzzled by his sudden change of attitude and how tightly he held her hand. Her head was spinning and she couldn’t note a cause, only how the hallways seemed to curve and bend as her eyes swam in the packed snow tunnels. He dragged her to a room at the end of a tunnel on the other side of the hanger and pressed a few numbers into the pad. The door slid open, revealing a single-person quarters. The walls were insulated with sheets of metal, and a bed was pushed against the far wall behind a small table and the door to the refresher. 

“Wh- Cassian this isn’t my bunk assignment, what happened to my quarters?” He ushered her inside and walked her over to the bed. He looked as if he was restraining himself from pulling the covers over her himself. 

“You need rest. General Organa has gratefully given you one of the general’s quarters after I told her you had a growing fever. I’m going to go to the infirmary and find you a remedy, please get into bed.” Jyn gave a small nod, and watched him as he quickly walked out of the room towards the med bay.

When he returned, Jyn was in bed, her shoes scattered next to the bed posts as she curled further into her jacket and the insulated blankets. As not to disturb her, he quietly walked over to her and sat down on the edge of the cot. Her hood was pushed back, revealing bangs in front of her eyes, and hair that fell to frame her face and cover her neck. If he wasn’t holding the medicine pouches, he would have had nothing to hold him back from pushing it away from her eyes. He considered it for a moment, but shook his head and began to open the supplies. 

Jyn, who was trying to keep her world from spinning away from, tried to ignore how Cassian’s eyes bore into her. She turned over slowly to face him and took a glance at the medicine pouches he was holding. 

“Please,” she pleaded,  “anything but those.”

“Jyn, this will help you.”

“But the base’s medicine is disgusting,” she whined, the way someone does when their sickness takes away their sense of modesty. Her eyes showed her tired state, both from the effects from the cold, as well as the many months she was holed up on their ship with nothing to do but sit and think. Think about Scariff. Think about them. They were both tired, and through her spinning worldview, Jyn could see that in his eyes just as much as he could see it through hers. 

“Please,” he said. She looked him in the eyes. She could see he only wanted the best for her.

He only wanted her to be okay. He couldn’t lose her, he got too close last time. He still remembers how tightly they held onto each other on the beach before the rescue ships came. In that moment they could have turned to dust and ash but at least they would have been together. He threatened to call them two parts of a whole he never knew. She nodded, resigned, understanding almost too much of what he felt. The feeling overwhelmed her and melded with her sickness as if they had always been the same. The way her world spun when they were together. He spoonfed her the dose, and she cringed as the thick syrup slid down the back of her throat. The world overwhelmed her, she laid down as she waited for its effects to take over. And he stayed. Staring at the door, staring at the wall, staring at her shoes that were thrown thoughtlessly on the ground next to him. He wasn't looking when she took his hand. 

“Please,” she whispered, almost unintelligible. He wouldn't have understood her words if the room wasn't as silent as it was. But it was only and purely them. “This will help me.” It was dark enough that she couldn't see his face turn rosy. He couldn’t see her look at him like she did in the rare times that the world was dark, and they were the only ones in their small, fragile reality. 

Cassian, with his free hand, pulled at the laces and slipped off his boots. She lifted the covers, and he fit next to her, their heat, radiating from one body to another. All he could hear was the sound of the purring of the floor heater and her small breaths, so close it graced the tip of his nose. Now, unrestricted by his own inhibitions, his free hand pushed her bangs away from her forehead, and his lips lightly touched her burning skin. She let out a breath, and they both drifted off. And for this moment, whatever this was, was enough for the both of them.

[ghastily]

✎  — Thief

➥  Cody x Reader | 1275

You’re desperate for supplies so you decide sneaking into a base is a good idea.

You almost feel guilty as you’re pulling on the passed out clone trooper’s gear. It was their fault really, they had it coming. Your people need help, supplies, food, anything and the Republic are dragging their heels. People are dying and they just can’t wait any longer, and so you saw no other choice — you just hope it’s the right one.

The helmet is so big that it dips forward when you slide it on, and the stale stench of dried sweat assaults your nose. “Blugh! Do they not wash or something…”

You check on the snoring clone one last time before marching out of the barn and into the darkness. His gear is much too big on you, it definitely doesn’t fit around your hips, and pieces of it hand and bump together as you try to walk into the base with the confidence of soldier. You try not to tense up as you get closer to the base, spotting two troopers on duty standing at the entrance.

They don’t pay any attention to you, you waltz right into the base. Phew.

Try to act like you belong, you repeat it in your head like a mantra. You can’t blow this now that you’re inside. Trying to pinpoint where they keep the supplies, you make a beeline through the base. You peek into one of the rooms, disappointed to find it’s not the supplies you’re looking for. Everything is going fine until you’re stopped by someone’s hand slapping down hard on your shoulder.

“Waxer!”

You flail madly and try not to scream, spinning around to face a clone who is just as surprised as you are. The HUD in the visor only identifies him as ‘Cody’, and he is handsome. There’s nothing special about his armor, nothing that stands out to identify his rank — not that you would know what to look for, but the gear on his legs look like they’ve seen better days. You inwardly cringe at some of those gray scratch marks.

“Whoa, what’s got you so jumpy!” He grins, voice light and teasingly, “Wildlife spooked you again, huh?”

Deep breath. Don’t blow your cover.

You flash him two thumbs up.

Bam.

The clone quirks a brow at you, clearly confused by your actions. “Uh, right. I’ve got some free time now, ready to do some hand to hand training?”

You shake your head frantically. No way. You’re not a fighter, the most combat you’ve ever done was kicking a guy in the nuts. Maybe if you pretend to be sick he’ll back off, so you hunch over and pat your chest, coughing.

Okay, bad idea.

Cody doesn’t fall for it, if anything it just makes him more suspicious. You’ve completely blown your own cover and fear grips your soul. Who knows what’s going to happen now that you’ve been caught. Cody crowds you into one of the side rooms, forcing your back up against a wall as he makes a grab for the helmet.

You gasp and clutch hard at it, fighting against Cody’s attempts to pull the helmet off and unmask you. Only there’s too much of a difference between a trained soldier and a civilian, your strength is no match for his and Cody successfully yanks the helmet off.

You glare at each other.

“Who are you! Where’s the trooper you stole this from?!” He growls, and you’re definitely intimidated and maybe a teeny tiny bit turned on.

“None of your business!” You snap back at him, “And he’s fine! Just sleeping off a really strong drink in a barn.”

“It is my business! Now start talking or I’m arresting you!”

Cody sounds furious, for all he knew you were putting the lives of his brothers and their mission in jeopardy. There was no arguing with that. You sigh loudly, dropping your head back against the wall as you reluctantly give him your name, “People in my village are dying. The supplies are taking too long to get there… I thought…”

You take a deep breath and blink away the tears that began to build swell up.

The tension leaves his posture and you hear him sigh. Guess he’s weak to a sob story.

“I get it, I do but there’s regulations… complications that are preventing us from helping faster.” Cody sighs and takes a step away from you, grasping Waxer’s helmet in one hand. “Let’s make a deal.”

You tilt your head in his direction, heart beginning to pound a little faster. “If it keeps me out of jail, I’m all ears.”

Cody smirks, “Take a small bag of what you need and if anyone asks, we never met.”

“That’s all?” Not that you’re complaining but it was highly suspicious that Cody wasn’t asking anything else in return from you. It was too easy and if there’s one thing you learned out of life — everybody wants something.

“It doesn’t do any good if there’s no one there to save.”

Ah, he’s one of those. A person with a good heart.

How rare.

“Deal.” You hold out your hand and Cody grasps it firmly. His hand is so much bigger than yours, and there’s a restrained strength in how tightly he holds your hand — it makes your stomach do a few flips and your cheeks steadily start to heat up. You let go his hand, quickly rubbing your palms against the stolen armor as if he was something dirty.

He just looks amused and hands you back the helmet before slipping his own on, “Come on. I’ll show you where the supplies are. Remember, only what you need to get by until we can get there with the rest.”

You scrunch up your nose at the thought of putting that sweaty thing back on, reluctantly you plop it back on your head. Cody chuckles and leads you out of the room and through the halls, passing by other troopers with the briefest of greetings. He’s popular with the others.

Cody shows you to a room filled with crates, once he’s sure the coast is clear he hurries you inside.

You waste no time grabbing a small bag and start rifling through the supplies, carefully depositing medicines into your bag. Just what you need, that’s all you take, but a greedy part of you wants to fill the bag to the brim — as much as you can pack in there. You don’t, not with Cody watching you (and the door) like a hawk.

Loaded up with medicine, you carefully fold up the bag and maneuver it inside Waxer’s stolen gear. Last thing you want is for the vials to be crushed en route to the village. You pat the chest piece and give Cody a thumbs up. Chuckling, he’s once more leading you through the base and back outside.

You lead him in the direction you came from, stopping just past the tree line. Once you’re sure it’s safe, you remove Waxer’s helmet and run a hand through your hair. “Um, thanks for helping and not arresting me.”

Cody removes his own helmet, tucking it underneath his arm and smiles so charmingly at you that your heart flutters. “It’s nothing.”

You’ve already made one stupid decision tonight, so what’s one more. Taking a deep breath to steel your nerves, you lean up and press your lips to his cheek. Cody hadn’t expected that, you can see it in how stunned he looks when you pull back. Snapping out of his daze, Cody ducks his head looking away shyly.

“When you come with the rest, I’ll treat you to a home cooked meal as thanks.”

“I look forward to it.”

[cantpickonefandoms]

Gwent Week: Day 2: Song

You're on the phone with your girlfriend

Gwen stood, waiting patiently at the bus shelter for the bus to come. As Gwen was waiting, she suddenly heard talking behind her, she looked behind to see Trent coming up the street, Gwen felt her stomach flip, as it always did whenever she saw Trent. Trent was talking his cellphone and, from what Gwen could see, he was having an argument with the other person, or least, that’s what Gwen guessed was going on, based off the frustration on Trent’s face, he also appeared to talking quickly, and he was gesturing wildly with his free hand. Gwen watched Trent up until he suddenly pulled his phone away from his ear and stuffed it in his pocket. Gwen then realized she had been staring and quickly turned away, she hoped Trent hadn’t noticed. She felt Trent stop and stand next to her, Gwen turned her head so she could look at him, he was frowning, clearly the argument he had put Trent in a bad mood. “Um, hi Trent.” Gwen said carefully, she wasn’t sure if Trent would want to talk, Trent quickly turned his head to look at her, it was almost as if this was first time he had noticed her that morning. “Oh, hey Gwen.” Trent said, offering her a small smile. Gwen chewed her bottom lip nervously, was it her place to ask about the argument? She wasn’t particularly close with Trent, sure, Gwen had been crushing on him since the ninth grade, but they had only talked on a handful of occasions. Nevertheless, Gwen allowed her curiosity to win her over. “So, it kind of looked like you were arguing with someone...”  

She's upset, she's going off about something that you said

“Huh?” Trent looked at her with confusion. Gwen cringed, she was starting to regret asking. “It looked like you were arguing with someone over the phone.” Gwen elaborated. “Oh.” Trent said, he turned his head down so he was looking his shoes. “Yeah, it was Heather. I made a joke that she didn’t appreciate, and she blew up on me.” “Hmm.” Gwen said, restraining from expressing her actual opinion on Heather. Heather, in Gwen’s opinion, was Satan’s love child, she was the evil queen of Gwen’s high school, she relished in making other people’s lives miserable, she was also Trent’s girlfriend. How Trent, one of nicest people in Gwen’s school, ended up dating the she-devil was beyond Gwen. She had a few theories, like maybe Heather gave Trent a love potion, or threatened to kill Trent’s entire family, or something else along those lines. However Heather managed to convince Trent to start dating her, one thing was certain, Heather had Trent wrapped around her finger, and it irked the hell out of Gwen.  

'Cause she doesn't get your humor like I do.

Despite Gwen really hating that Trent was dating Heather, she had no intention of sabotaging their relationship, Gwen wasn’t that petty. “Well, don’t worry about it. I’m sure once Heather has cooled down, she’ll talk to you and apologize.” “You think so?” Trent asked, looking at Gwen curiously. “Yeah, Heather’s just being a-” Gwen stopped herself, the words ‘drama queen’ were on the tip of her tongue. “...She’s just being a bit sensitive; she’ll get over it.” “Hmm.” Trent thought for a moment. “You know, you’re right, Gwen. Thanks.” Trent shot her a big smile, and Gwen couldn’t help but smile back. “No problem.”

I'm in the room, it's a typical Tuesday night.

I'm listenin' to the kind of music she doesn't like

And she'll never know your story like I do

Gwen was walking home from school, heading past the park, when she spotted a familiar figure sitting at a picnic bench with ear buds in his ears, connected to a phone. Gwen made her way over to wear Trent was sitting, she made eye contact with him, so Trent took his ear buds out and waved. “Hey!” “Hey.” Gwen greeted. “You’re in a better mood than you were this morning.” Gwen observed. “Huh? Oh, yeah, I am.” Trent said. “So, Heather talked to you?” Gwen asked, Trent nodded. Gwen wasn’t quite sure what to say, she supposed she could have said ‘I’m glad’ but that would have been a half lie, she was happy that Trent was happy, but she wasn’t happy that Heather was still with Trent. So, instead she pointed at Trent’s phone. “What’re you listening to?” “Oh, She Will Be Loved.” “Ooh, nice!” Gwen said. “You like this song?” Trent asked, sounding surprised. “Uh, yeah! It’s great!” “Oh, I guess I’m just surprised because Heather really doesn’t like this song.” “Oh...” Gwen said. They suddenly fell into an awkward silence. Damn it, why did we have to go back to talking about Heather? Gwen wondered. “Well, I’m glad I know someone who likes the same song as me.” Trent said suddenly. “Yeah, that is a good thing.” Gwen said. “Do you want to...” Trent allowed his voice to trail off, and he offered his second ear bud to Gwen, Gwen’s eyes widened as she understood what Trent was offering. “Uh, sure.” Gwen restrained herself from sounding too excited, Trent wasn’t single, he was just being friendly. Despite that, as Gwen was sitting next to Trent, while She Will Be Loved played through their shared ear buds, Gwen allowed herself to enjoy this moment with Trent.

But she wears short skirts, I wear T-shirts

She's cheer captain and I'm on the bleachers

Gwen sat on the cold, metal bench, overlooking the football field where the school’s football team was going up against one of the neighbouring schools’ football teams. But Gwen wasn’t really watching the game, she looking over at the cheer squad, clapping and cheering when she saw Zoey pull off a perfect flip or cartwheel. “Hi, Gwen.” Gwen turned to see Trent standing next to her. “Hi.” Gwen said. “Do you mind if I...?” Trent gestured to the empty seat next to her. “Yeah sure, go right ahead.” Gwen said happily. Trent sat down next to her. “So, what’re you doing here? This doesn’t really seem like your thing.” Trent pointed out. Gwen turned to him. “I’m here to check out the hot guys in their uniforms.” She said with a straight face. Trent’s eyes widened in shock. “Seriously?” He asked. “Yup.” Gwen said. Trent’s eyes widened even more. Gwen decided she should put Trent out of his misery. She laughed. “I’m kidding. You’re right, I don’t care about this.” Gwen gestured to the football game. “I’m here for this.” Gwen gestured in the genral direction of the cheer squad. “I’m here to support Zoey. Usually this would be Mike’s job, but he’s out of town, so I’m here in his place.” Gwen explained. “Ah, that makes sense.” Trent said with a grin. He let out a sigh of relief. “Don’t do that, you had me worried for a second there.” “Oh really?” Gwen asked in amusement. “Yes really!” “So, what’re you doing here?” Gwen asked. “Oh, I’m here for Heather.” Trent said. “Oh, of course.” Gwen said. Idiot. For a minute, Gwen had forgotten that Trent had a girlfriend.

Dreamin' 'bout the day when you wake up and find

That what you're looking for has been here the whole time

Since Gwen was going to meet up with Zoey after the game, and Trent was going to meet with Heather, Trent suggested that they should go to wait outside the changing room together. Gwen had agreed, and they made their way there together, talking the whole way. They continued taking while they were outside the changing room, until they were interrupted. “Ahem.” Gwen froze soon as she heard that, she knew exactly who it was without turning around, but she did anyway. Sure enough, it was Heather. For a moment Heather didn’t say anything, she flicked her eyes between Gwen and Trent a couple of times before she plastered on the fakest smile Gwen had ever seen, then she made her way over to Trent. “Hey babe.” Heather said in a sickeningly sweet tone that made Gwen want to rip her own ears off. Then Heather proceeded to kiss Trent fully on the mouth, and Gwen had a sudden urge to go find a fork and gauge her own eyes out with it. Gwen was just thinking to herself that Heather was kissing Trent for way longer than was necessary when Gwen felt someone tap her shoulder. She turned around and came face to face with her best friend. “Zoey.” Gwen said with relief, Gwen was so happy she had an excuse to leave. “Uh, you said wanted to check out that new restaurant after the game, right?” Gwen asked, thinking quickly. Zoey blinked in confusion. “Did I say that?” Zoey asked. “Yes, you did.” Gwen said, subtly flicking her eyes toward Trent and Heather. Please get me out of here. Gwen really hoped Zoey would get the message. Zoey’s eyes flicked to Trent and Heather, then back to Gwen, then her eyes widened with understanding. “Oh yeah, I did say that. Thanks for reminding me.” Zoey said. Thank you. “Alright, then let's get going.” Gwen said, grabbing Zoey’s as she started to head towards the exit of the field. “Uh, bye Gwen.” Gwen heard Trent say, and Gwen turned around, she was surprised that Trent had noticed. Gwen made eye contact with him, and it seemed like Trent was trying to convey something to her with his eyes, was he sad that Gwen was leaving? It could have easily been confusion as well, mor maybe it was nothing. “Bye.” Gwen said, and with that, she turned around and left with Zoey.

If you could see that I'm the one who understands you

Been here all along, so why can't you see

You belong with me You belong with me

The End

[doodlebless]

One-shot: I fear your smile and the promise inside

Fandom: Doctor Who Rating: Teen and up Warnings: Blood, whump (13 whump) Characters: Thirteenth Doctor, Whittaker!Master Summary: “Welcome to 'impossible', Doctor.” She could only assume she was on some strange parallel earth. Okay, that was fine, nothing she hadn't handled before. That was until a sharply dressed woman approached her and things suddenly became a lot more dangerous. Words: 1333 Ao3 link: archiveofourown.org/works/23595385

She’d let herself get distracted. Big mistake. She stared transfixed on the woman before her, not even realising the restrained, almost caressing way she raised her cane to the side of her head as she spoke.

“Now now, dear, you don’t want to see what’s in here, surely.” She lowers the Doctor’s hand slowly, moving it away from her temple. “Or maybe you do?” she teased, her voice melodic. “Ever the nosey one, I see.”

The Doctor didn’t reply, eyes narrowing as they scanned every detail of her. It couldn’t be possible, yet here she was, standing before her.

“But maybe…” The woman began, the slow movements she made missed as her face held the Timelord’s attention. “Just maybe…” The topper of the cane smashed into the side of her head, dazing her as she stumbled to keep her balance. The woman slammed it down into her shoulder, sending her crashing unceremoniously to the ground. “Maybe I might try to get into that pretty little head of yours instead.” The Doctor blinked hard against the fuzz that had clouded her vision; the woman standing over her shared her face—the exact same face. Only the deadness of her eyes and carefully styled curls of her hair told of any real difference.

“You’re not...possible,” she ground out, gritting her teeth against the throbbing in her head. The smirk grew into a grin as the woman crouched down, expertly balanced on the balls of her feet. She carefully took hold of the Doctor’s chin, tilting her head to look at her face on.

“My Doctor…” The words sat awfully in the Doctor’s stomach. “Tells me such absurd things too.” She stood up again, expression eerily neutral, but hiding something underneath that sparked recognition in the Doctor’s sluggish mind. “Welcome to 'impossible', Doctor.”

The toe of her heeled shoe slammed against the Doctor’s stomach, a cry escaping her as she gasped for air, rolling onto her back. A patronising ‘aww’ escaped the woman’s lips as her foot came down again, heel so sharp she could feel it digging through her. Despite that, she tried to wriggle free, only to be met by an even more powerful wave of pain as it was driven in even deeper, grinding into her. She coughed, cringing at the iron taste it left in her mouth. She didn’t have time to care about that though; it would heal fast.

If she could get away.

It was an agonising while before the pressure on her stomach was lifted and she almost curled up in herself, halted by the base of the cane planting straight into her chest. Not as sharp as her heel, but it still smarted more than a little. Her head slammed back into the ground from the motion, a fresh ache stabbing away at her, joining the rest. The pressure from the cane increased; her breaths grew short and sharp.

“I wasn’t done looking yet, love,” the woman said so sweetly, like sucrose venom. Every inch of her face was studied; same as how the Doctor had studied the woman’s barely minutes before she lost any advantage she could have gained. “My, you’re such a young little thing, so starry eyed, so immature, and yet…” She leant in closer, eyes widening in her own sick sense of childlike joy. “Oh, this is beautiful! Such a longing to burn—to turn both the universe to ruins...” She raised her free hand to her face, finger to the corner of her mouth as she deducted. “...And yourself.”

The Doctor’s expression steeled, hand reaching up to grab the cane, painfully yanking at it as it slid away from her chest, the woman caught off guard. She made a panicked attempt to stand—to run—but the woman who shared her face had other ideas. Grabbing a fistful of her hair, this darker version of her hoisted her onto her knees. Her vision clouded ominously from being lifted so suddenly, head swirling as she tried to refocus on the figure in front of her.

The smart trousers. The shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbows. The waistcoat.

That sickeningly familiar face.

“Come on now, dear,” she cooed. “I thought you had a bit more fight in you than that.” The sly smile on her face faded. Maybe she was getting bored without any fightback, the Doctor thought fuzzily. Things were clicking into place.

“Say my name.” The request—more of a demand—came suddenly, the Doctor’s blood running that little bit colder through her heavy limbs, hearts picking up the pace.

She knew the name, of course she did. But to speak it out loud would make this entire scenario entirely too real, entirely too much something she’d definitely have to fix.

“Say it.” The voice raised in intensity, a storm building in her voice, in her eyes. The Doctor sucked in as deep a breath as she could; her lungs protested and threatened to send her into a coughing fit. She closed her eyes as the breath escaped her shakily.

“Master.”

The ‘Master’ sucked in her own deep breath, releasing it with a satisfied ‘ahh’, lips pulled tight into an expansive grin. “Once more, love? It’s not every day I hear my own voice speak my name with such dread.” She remained quiet, staring resolutely at her face as it blurred in and out of focus, the pressure of her hair pulling at the roots becoming unbearable.

The Master whipped her cane to the side suddenly, the movement sending the lower half to the ground, leaving a sword in its place. “Say it again,” she said firmly, pointing the blade at her face. “Or we won’t look quite so samey anymore.” She feigned a sad pout at the words, completely for show. The Doctor gritted her teeth, eyes narrowing as she launched her hands towards the cane, grabbing it roughly and pushing it aside with a grunt, rising up just enough on her feet to gain purchase to kick her legs from under her. The Master crashed to the ground, the cane becoming loose in her grasp. The Doctor took her chance and whisked away with it, half running half stumbling away and through a maze of buildings and construction works. She was beyond thankful that the encounter had happened somewhere so sheltered; even without a potential concussion, she couldn’t even imagine how she’d get away with nowhere to hide.

She could hear the woman yelling after her; curses in Gallifreyan she hadn’t heard in a long time. Stumbling and managing to catch herself before she lost precious time in her getaway, she launched herself over a stack of boxes and slid to the ground, hitched breaths coming in hard. The boxes practically surrounded her, she didn’t think she’d find a better place to collect her thoughts. The grip she had on the cane was tight, holding it close to her chest, eyes scrunched tight with gritted teeth as she thought her brains for a plan.

It was her. But...it wasn’t! But how could that be?! She’d shared faces with those she’d met in the past before, but for the Master to—

Wait, she said ‘my Doctor’. Her Doctor. It was like a dim bulb in the back of her head had finally lit up. There was a Doctor here too! They could help her, they could—

“Oh my darling, you really are making this too easy.”

The voice was close and any attempt to quiet her breathing was lost. It was only then she felt something warm seep into her top and trousers, trickling down her wrists and arms.

Blood.

She’d been propelled by adrenaline, by her own flight responses that she hadn’t even realised the grip she held on the cane the entire time had been cutting into her.

She’d left a trail.

“I’d really like my cane back now, love.” The singsong tone came closer than ever, an ominous prelude that filled her entire body with dread.

[sculptorofbeginningslibrary]

Black Eyes & Bloodlust - Chapter 14

My Masterlist

Black Eyes & Bloodlust Masterlist

Summary: Dean has never met his Omega, never even thought there could be one waiting for him–but she’s out there, and they’re connected in ways they could never have imagined.

Characters: DeanxReader, Sam, Cass, a few OC’s

Warnings: Eventual smut so typical A/B/O warnings, Slow burn (and I mean it. SLOW BURN GUYS.) Language, depictions of mental illness, Gore and Violence, (Warnings will apply to all chapters just to cover all the bases.)

Word Count: ~5,100

A/N: I love you guys. All of you. 🖤 SO SO SO sorry this took so long, but thank you to everyone who held out hope for me lol 

Unbeta’d for reasons, if you find mistakes that irk you bad enough feel free to message me :) 

Enjoy!

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Your whimpers started the moment Dean closed the door behind him, and he knew it was your body succumbing to the heat boiling in your blood. Being surrounded by his scent, coupled with whatever Castiel had done, made it inevitable. He was physically and mentally feeling every jolt from your system as your body cried out for him, but his groin was receiving the worst of it. 

He’d resolved not to take you unless your body started to fail because he wanted you aware and coherent during the act, but with every clench of his gut he could feel the tether of his control rasping thinner. His Alpha was chomping at the bit, fuelled by the Mark and ravenous for the feast of Omega lying so helpless and ripe for the taking.

Being out of the room hadn’t helped at all. Instead, the only thing he could think about was your spiking scent, so thick in the air he’d smelled you halfway from the car and ten times worse when he closed the door behind him. He was worried about other Alphas being drawn over, and even though he knew once they scented him they’d turn tail, it still made him anxious. He wasn’t in a state to leave another Alpha alive if it came to a confrontation. 

He shut the hotel latch at the top of the door, just in case.

Dean knew there were things he should be doing; plans he should be making and enacting to clean up the aftermath of your little spree, but you were wrapping around him so completely he was drowning. Dean needed you to wake up before he lost control. Between the heat simmering under his own skin and the unreadable waves of emotion roiling inside his head, there was no telling how long either of you had left before things took a dangerous turn.

Dean’s cock felt like stone as he adjusted his pants to pull it against his abdomen, tucking the swollen head uncomfortably behind his belt because there was nowhere else for it to go. Every inhale had his throat constricting, even as he distracted himself with rearranging the room until he had the keyboard set close enough to the bed that he could sit and play while still feeling your presence. The dark energy swirling around your aura matched his own, and keeping close so they could meld made him feel calmer. Made it easier to control the urges firing through his system from all directions.

Going to the car had been the kind of torture that rivaled a few things Dean had experienced in hell; the perceived loss of you making something dark clench in his chest despite knowing exactly where you were. Dean didn’t like it, and he didn’t know what to do with it aside from hitting something, so he put the feeling away, tucking it safely into the back of his mind with the hope that they’d figure everything out before he had to examine it too closely. One thing at a time, he told himself. Gotta wake the girl up first.

The girl.

My girl.

Every doubt rose up then, and he shook away the tear that threatened to fall. He’d faced so many things with Sam by his side, but this was something they’d never really talked about. You were going to change everything for both of them. He wasn’t sure he could handle it without fucking it up. Or fucking you up worse...

Dean thought’d he’d done enough damage, he didn’t see how keeping you instead of sending you back to your normal life would benefit anyone, least of all, you.

His eyes flicked to where you lay uncovered but still clothed, blanket strewn about your feet and eyes twitching under the lids. You whimpered again as he shifted for a better look at your face before he forced himself to turn back around.

__

Blood was everywhere; layers of it caked under your nails, half dried tracks smeared up your arms, freshly dripping, almost black, patterns of macabre decoration splattered across your face.

Your hazy reflection wavered in the mirror, grinning viciously as black eyes followed every movement of your tongue over your crimson fingers.

You cringed inwardly, disgusted with yourself and more than a little confused. You were trapped again.

Not trapped, a soft voice, almost feminine in quality, whispered. Set free. This is the reality of your kind. Humans. This is your truth.

The mirror shimmered, twisting until you were straddling the first Omega’s chest; you hadn’t bothered to learn her name. Asphalt dug through your pants as you kept her arms pinned to her ribs, the tiny, jagged, rocks poking painfully at your knees through your jeans. The girl was screaming, begging to be let go as you smoothly cut at her, sailing the razor thin blade through her creamy flesh like a hot knife through butter. You could feel your mouth moving, but the words weren’t forming. It was like watching an old silent film as she writhed, and you talked without making a sound. Her mouth gaped open into a red, bloody, hole of pain as she took her last shuddering breath. The moment the light left her eyes you knew she was free. Her pupils caught your attention as you looked over your handiwork, deciding what to do next. 

She didn’t feel...done. 

The slick, wet, red rolled off the silver blade as you tapped it thoughtfully on your leg, letting your subconscious lead the way. You hummed in satisfaction when you realized the answer was staring you right in the face. 

With a snicker you leaned forward, intending on plucking her eyelids right off, but halfway there her head snapped up, her glossy eyes honed in on you. Her pupils swelled quickly and sucked you in, toppling you head-first into a black river that swallowed you down and spiked poison through your veins that burned like hellfire.

Every kick of your feet was useless, every gasp for air only earning mouthfuls of sludge.

Swathed in the darkness, you could see everything; feel everything. Every moment of pain in your life was laid bare then shoved back inside you until it was all that existed. Like being flayed alive, the pain was so icy-hot that the drowning stopped so the fire inside could grow.

Things you’d never experienced worked their way to the surface, bubbling thick against the film of your own pain before breaking through, nasty pockets of inky black tar and when they popped, everything went white.

Thick, heavy claws ripped into your chest, digging in right at the center to snatch that white-hot ball between giant teeth like serrated blades; hellhound; grief so deep it twisted everything in your gut so tight it felt like you’d never breathe again; Sammy, Bobby; guilt so heavy it crushed your bones and  minced any bit of happiness with pangs like boulders to the chest; Jo, Ellen, Ash, Dad, Pamela, Hell; wide hooks digging into every soft spot, slowly tightening until tension rips them away, taking mangled chunks of you along for the ride; Alistair.

You wanted to vomit, but when your mouth opened you felt the scream in your throat.

__

After ten minutes of staring at the keys and physically restraining himself from climbing into the bed, Dean couldn’t take it anymore. Your whimpers sounded so helpless, and every few seconds you tossed over, curling and uncurling into a ball with your arms thrown across your stomach. Every time you moved the air stirred, making his nose twitch and an unwilling rumble form in his chest. There had to be something wrong. It’s been so long…

He had to touch you. 

Dean told himself it was just to check your fever, and he was thankful he did.

He hissed as his hand came away from your forehead hot, your skin even more heated and slick than it had been when he laid you down. It was then he noticed the darkened circle of wetness you’d soaked into the bed, and panic rose in his throat.

OmegaOmegaOmega, his subconscious chanted as he jumped off the bed, but Dean forced himself through the sludge. Omegas...What do i know about Omegas? Help. Have to help. There had to be something.

Every bit of knowledge he knew was rattling around in his head was suddenly gone, like something had taken that box of memories and replaced it with a sign that said Knots help Omegas.

The Mark had flared to life the second his skin connected with yours, and he saw the truth. Your body was failing. He was going to have to knot you. 

Of every scenario he’d imagined and planned for, this had not been one of them.

There has to be another way. There’s always another way.

As best as he could, he tried to remember the basics of what he’d learned about Omegas in middle school.

Normally he would just ask Sam if he didn’t know something, but just the thought of his brother set his blood boiling, and his brain was hyper-focused, so it was time for the next best thing. Dean sat cautiously down on the edge of the bed and pulled out his phone to start researching.

__

The sludge was slowly turning to tar as you kicked and fought fruitlessly. The sinking feeling was literal as you slid deeper, the nasty slick of tar caressing every piece of you, but then something changed.

A jolt ran from head to toe, snapping your eyes open and your feet to the ground. Your flailing weight brought you the rest of the way down, dropping you like a stone into a bed that made your stomach twist.

“And how are we feeling today?” Dr Mara questioned from your bedside. Her voice was deeper than you remembered, her face charred and twisted when you turned to look.  Her cracked lips stretched into a wide grin.

What the hell are you? You were asking the words, but they still wouldn’t come, and then she was responding but her mouth wasn’t moving and nothing was making sense.

__

Skin contact. Knots. Dean’s cock throbbed heavily as his eyes skimmed over article after article. It all came down to connection. “Fuck,” Dean whispered into the darkness, absently palming himself. He couldn’t take it any longer and finally removed his pants. Just the pants, he told himself. Just so it doesn’t hurt so bad.

Another way. Another connection, his coherent brain demanded, and like an answered prayer it came to him.

Play.

__

Your fingers were burning, and you were sitting at your piano. You knew it was the day you’d lost control. The day everything had really started to go nuts, but instead of the smell of home, there was only Dean. The Alpha was all around you, and even in the dream your body clenched.

__

Dean fiddled with the first notes as his phone started playing.

He watched you carefully as he let it play through once, pleased with how you calmed. When your breathing evened out Dean restarted the song, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It was difficult ignoring the way his cock throbbed and his chest tightened painfully with your scent burning through his nose, but he managed. This was best. He let his twitching fingers do the work, operating on muscle memory, so his mind was free focus on you.

He’d thought it would be hard to remember, but with the music playing in one ear and your steady but labored breathing in the other, he let himself go, quickly getting lost in the storm of rage, and lust, that had been cooking inside for far too long.  Heat flared on his arm when his phone went quiet, but Dean didn’t stop playing. He couldn’t have opened his eyes if he’d wanted to, his fingers pressing harder and faster against the only thing connecting him to you in the moment.

Well, not the only thing, but Dean was pretending he wouldn’t see a glowing red mark on his arm if he opened his eyes.

He felt it when your hands landed on the keys; smelled the musk when fresh sweat broke out over your skin, and heard your voice when it joined his playing. The sound had his head whipping around, only to be disappointed that you were singing the words in your sleep.

__

You looked curiously at your arm as sun from the window peeked through the curtains, perfectly highlighting the rash you’d had for as long as you could remember.

But I haven’t had it forever...what is that? For reasons unknown, seeing it was a strange comfort. It was a gentle reminder of something you couldn’t put your finger on, but the soft warmth it was pushing into your heart was getting warmer the longer you sang, building into a pain that stole your words and twisted them into sobs.

__

When you started crying, Dean pushed away from the keyboard so hard it rattled on the stand and almost toppled over. Fuck this. His remaining clothes were tossed away carelessly, but a flash of something he’d read shortly before crossed his mind. 

With great restraint, Dean gathered the clothes he’d discarded and a few more shirts from his duffel and dropped them to the bed.

I can do this. Skin contact. Just skin. Dean huffed a huge breath, steeling himself for what came next. You were still singing, although at a mumble, as he ripped off your pajama pants, shirt, and against his better judgement: your panties, before climbing up and slotting himself against your side. The harsh racking of your chest calmed with the feel of his skin on yours just as he’d hoped, and he pulled the piles of cloth to bunch up around your other side. Ever so slowly your mumbles faded to soft whimpers, but the tears continued. You rolled into his chest, instinctively seeking out the combination of scent and warmth that felt safest. Dean  allowed himself to reach an arm across you, his hand a solid presence on your spine as he pressed his lips close to your ear, trying hard not to rut his hard cock against your leg like a horny teenager as he scented you.

He was a fully grown Alpha, he could contain himself, but damn if it didn’t feel like the hardest thing he’d ever done. Dean’s voice felt like rocks grating in his dry throat when he finally growled out, “Omega.” Your body tightened in response, curling in and pressing closer. Dean took it as a good sign. “Been gone too long. Come back to me.”

Then he sang.

__

“Every road you take, will always lead you home.”

Dean’s voice echoed through your foggy mind, tugging at something in your chest and distracting you from the instrument before you.

Dean. The name brought a wave of excitement tinged with anxiety. Suddenly exhausted beyond belief and tired of the pain, you stood, almost collapsing with the sudden fatigue, to follow the crooning sound of his voice.

It sounded like he was coming from your room, so you let the sliver of light spilling from under the door into the hallway guide from the darkness you hadn’t realized you were still steeped in. Your feet felt like cement bricks as you trudged the span of your living room to the edge of the hallway, too sluggish to move any faster despite the rising sense of desperation.

My heat. Fuck. The thought shot across the frantic landscape of your mind, reminding you harshly of yet another thing you’d been avoiding. Possibly the most important thing. 

A deadly thing. Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad, you mused. 

A cramp rolled between your hips and you had to brace against the wall or risk falling into something worse. You had the surreal feeling that one wrong step would take you further down this rabbit hole instead of pulling you out. 

Dean would pull you out.

Every motion felt like a heavy hand trying to wrench your tailbone out through your belly-button. 

The hallway seemed long, but Dean was right there. You knew if you could just get to him, everything would be fine. 

You could practically hear the promise of his soul calling out to you.

That was the light spilling out of your room when everything else was descending into the darkness, you realized distantly. His soul. “Omega.” The command seemed to pulse in your arm. Come back to him. 

You wanted to, but you suddenly didn’t know if you could. Your feet grew heavier, and when you looked down, solid black boots of concrete were growing thicker around your ankles.

The darkness that connected you was also trying to pull you away from him, and you couldn’t understand why.

What the fuck is happening to me?

Closing your eyes to the quickly dimming hallway, you put one foot in front of the other, scratching and scraping the walls to help pull you along for what felt like 40 years until finally, blissfully, there was a doorknob in your hand.

__

“Dean?” The single croaked word brought Dean back to the moment after he’d drifted off, rutting his hips against your leg like he’d been trying not to. His eyes were laser focused as he stilled and pulled back just enough to see your face.

Your eyes were open, trained on his face, and he thanked whatever God there was that they weren’t black. They were the same perfect color that had been haunting him, although rimmed with red and watery from your tears. “Y/N,” he asked cautiously, his voice thick with obvious restraint, “that you in there?”

All you could do was nod, noticing dazedly the sheen of sweat covering him and the hard set line of his jaw before a cramp rolled through your stomach. The smell of him registered finally, scattering your wits before you’d gathered them. “Dean,” you whined, reaching out despite being pressed against him already, but he was already there. Effortlessly he was on you, rolling to press his body long and hard over yours and pushing away the sudden rush of emotion trying to assault you. Terror, lust, guilt...

“I’m here ‘Mega. You’re safe now.” He sounded so confident and his weight was so solid, so steady and so fucking real, you couldn’t help but believe him.

Without another thought you pressed your lips to his and wrapped your legs around his hips to grip him tightly. You realized you were both naked already and sighed happily into his mouth as his lips parted for you, letting you explore him before he took over. His body felt like heaven against your heated skin, every cell crying out for what only he could give you. “Alpha,” you moaned when he rutted the underside of his cock down your soaked slit, “Need you.”

“I know, ‘Mega,” he grunted, pulling back to get a good look at you. He couldn’t help the grin as you whined for him, feeling bereft.

“It’s so bad, Dean,” you groaned, pushing up for more, searching for anything to soothe the ache.

“Shh, I got you.” With your legs locked around him, Dean couldn’t do much, so he squeezed his hand between your bodies and rubbed quick, strong circles over your clit until your legs clamped tighter. He had your thighs and stomach quivering quickly, and unable to hold on they released, your legs falling to the bed helplessly. Taking advantage of the easier access he slid his hand down, thick fingers teasing at your entrance as his thumb took their place at the top of your swollen folds. Your back arched and liquid lust flooded your veins when he spoke. “That’s it ‘Mega.” he crooned encouragingly. “That’s my good girl,” you bucked your hips harder into his hand, his voice and fingers working to beckon your orgasm on. He dropped to one arm by your head, hovering his lips over yours while the other hand moved faster, sliding his thumb over your clit and pushing slightly inside your spasming entrance and holding them there until you wailed out your first orgasm. 

“Fuck, Dean” you whispered as your hips relaxed down to the mattress, a gentle clench in your core and the fire still burning through your veins telling you that you weren’t anywhere near done. That didn’t seem to be a problem as Dean captured your mouth again. Without warning he plunged two fingers deep into your pussy, curling them upward in search of your spot and earning a surprised gasp from you that he consumed happily, his tongue reaching inside your mouth in search of your taste. Dean groaned as your wet heat swallowed his fingers eagerly, clenching and trying to pull him deeper. He’d only pumped them three times before you were ready to crest again, your fingers clawing at his back, his arms, his ribs, anything you could use to keep from coming apart at the seams. As his fingers slowed, your hands relaxed enough for him to feel comfortable with you touching him where he wanted it most.

“Grab my cock, ‘Mega. Feel how hard I am for you.” He jerked his fingers inside your pussy, finally finding your spot and making you squeal. “Think about how hard I’m gonna knot this sweet little Omega pussy.” With a sloppy nod you brought your lips back to his. You fought back a gasp, but it still came out as a gurgle, when your hand closed around the base of his cock.

The question of ‘will it fit?’ only had a moment to process before he was pulling his fingers from you. He scooped your slick along with them and used it to coat his cock before lining up with your twitching hole. The arm holding him up started to shake as he looked down at you for confirmation. After holding back for so long, he was surprised by his own resolve. If his Alpha had its way, you’d have been a hormonal wreck, awake or not, hours ago.

“Please,” you whined, rolling your hips until the head of his cock sank in. Unable to deny himself with you surrounding him so completely, Dean took the hint and pressed forward. Your eyes rolled as he easily slid deeper, slick easing the way for him to open you wider than you’d dreamed possible. Breath left your lungs in great heaves as you clutched at his shoulders, pleasure tingling through the pain until all that was left was a sense of completion that sang through your body.

“Fuck, ‘Mega, so tight,” Dean groaned, dropping his weight down to smother your mouth with is own as he bottomed out. He couldn’t get enough of how good you tasted. It was almost better than your smell.

“First--Alpha,” you managed through his kisses, squirming impatiently. With his chest pressed so close you felt the growl reverberate through you just before he started moving. The burn of his cock stretching you open faded quickly as his body slid down yours, and the first thrust had you seeing stars; the second, crying out his name.

Everything fell away as Dean was finally overcome by his rut, the Alpha in him demanding he take what was his by right. Sweat poured as he started a reckless pace, filling you over and over. The clash of his pelvis into your clit stole your pain and confusion, replacing it with heat, and love, and pleasure, that had you threatening to splinter into a million pieces. Dean’s knot started to swell, and you felt his sac tighten against your ass. He was grunting into your ear, whispering gibberish you were sure was supposed to be words, but it didn’t matter because everything in you was focused on the tightening coil in your gut.

Being with an Alpha was fulfilling; it felt right. So right, and you couldn’t believe you’d put it off for so long.

“Gonna knot you baby,” were the only words that registered before he was slamming inside harder than before, lodging his quickly thickening knot as deep as it would go just before it popped and triggered your orgasm. The careful decision not to mark you went out the window alongside his original plans to use a condom as your body locked up and your scent spiked. Dean’s teeth sank deep into your shoulder, pulling a scream from your already raw throat. His sweaty forehead was forced into the pillow as your arms and legs flexed around him, your walls shuddering and milking his cock until he was spilling inside you.

Dean felt the pangs in his arm at the same time you did, and his teeth dug deeper. His snarl was drowned out by your second scream as his cock throbbed heavily inside you, spurting more cum than your body could handle and pushing you higher and into another round of shivers as you felt it leak out around his knot.

He lay panting on top of you as he recovered, laving the bloody bite mark with his tongue to stop the bleeding and soothe the sharp ache he knew you would feel. A soft grunt from you made him realize he was probably crushing you, and with a small chuckle he rolled. His knot tugged against your entrance, making you moan until he wrapped his arms tightly around your back. The unfamiliar feeling of being so unbelievably stuffed sent a buzz tingling along behind the lingering vestiges of your orgasms, but mixed thoroughly with the throbbing at your neck. Dean kept you snug to his chest as finished the roll and settled back into the mattress with your body draped across his.

The beating of his heart echoed through your ear as you tried to catch your breath, the electric feel of his skin under yours not fading like you’d expected. Dean’s fingers combed through your matted hair, stopping for a moment on your forehead. You snuggled into the touch, but when he was satisfied you weren’t feverish he let his hand drop between your shoulderblades. You were disgruntled at the loss, but when his calloused fingers started to trace lazy circles across your skin you settled. You hummed softly, easily getting lost again in the buzz of...whatever was connecting you.

A mark is connecting you, your mind provided helpfully, but the full feeling where your body joined with Dean’s kept your mind fogged and let you push it away. Logic told you everything about this was wrong, but biology was telling you otherwise. His fingers now held a tether to your heart, and it seemed to beat in time with his movements now. Maybe it always had.

You turned your head until your chin rested in the dip between Dean’s pecs. When your eyes met, fresh heat bloomed. How was someone so perfectly beautiful so real? 

How was that someone yours after all you’d done? Another round of slick gushed around him and mixed with his cum, trickling more out around his knot. His jaw dropped slightly with the feeling, and your hips wiggling prompted him to thrust up. He grinned at the way your eyes rolled before closing. His hands trailed further down your back until he could grab your ass in both hands and hold your hips down with unexpected strength.

You groaned when the action pressed your swollen clit down against him and he started to grind with slow, gentle motions. “Fuck, Dean,” you whispered, getting lost in the sensations before he released you.

“I know, ‘Mega,” he grumbled, “but I’m afraid we got some things to talk about before I fuck you again.We’re probably gonna be here a while.” You ground your hips down petulantly in disagreement, mewling low in your chest. You sat up slowly, ignoring his protests that you’d hurt yourself. Carefully, you slid back until you were seated upright, mounted on his cock with your legs on either side of his hips. The view was everything Dean could have imagined and more; he couldn’t have dreamt a sight as wonderful your body rising above him as he filled you from below, perfect breasts swaying in time with every movement. It took everything in Dean not to cry out at the pull of his knot inside your clenched walls and your nails digging hard into his chest as you adjusted to the deeper angle. He wanted to snatch your hips in his hands and knot fuck you, but you’d said…

Fuck, he realized, she said first Alpha. The thought had his cock twitching inside you all over again.

Dean’s body was a tension rod, hands fisting into the sheets and heels digging into the mattress as he remained ready to snap the moment you showed any sign of being really ready.

The slick your body couldn’t seem to stop producing was helping his case, easing the slide of your clit across the hair on his pelvis as you experimented with the different angles of your hips, despite being unable to move very far. 

Your hands trailed down his chest, nails leaving white lines that flushed red after they passed. One hand continued the trail to your mound, sliding between your joined bodies to feel where his knot was locked inside you. Dean threw his head back into the pillow, slamming his eyes shut against the temptation. He felt your pussy clench around him as you seated your palm against your slit, your fingers sliding to either side of his cock and increasing the pressure. His hips jerked up involuntarily, making you squeak in surprise.

“Woah, Alpha,” you soothed, forcing your eyes to stay open and trained on the harsh lines of pleasure running across your mate’s face.

Holy shit. Mate. The marks on your neck and arm tingled in response. Dean’s hands came to rest on your hips, unable to refrain from touching you any longer. It was almost too much as you moved, your free hand guiding one of his to your breast. Dean’s eyes popped open and he went to work without prompting, his gaze eating up the way your nipples tightened to little buds under his ministrations. His fingers faltered when his eyes fell to your neck, where his mark lay.

He stilled, feeling like someone had thrown ice water over him. You whined and moved your hand faster, pushing yourself back to the peak in no time, never noticing his reaction. Your orgasm hit just as his knot softened, your walls fluttering and clenching around his oversensitive cock and making him release the cry of your name that he’d been holding back. He grabbed your tits so tight you knew there would be bruises.

The pain amplified your pleasure and you stayed over him, shoving down harder while shuddering and whimpering until the last waves faded.

 When you opened your eyes you saw the blood trickling from his lip from where he’d bitten down and felt a flash of guilt.

Your pout as you slid off of him had to be the cutest thing he’d ever seen, and almost broke his resolve to talk everything out once he caught his breath. 

Almost, but not quite.

Dean wanted to properly introduce himself. He couldn’t have you thinking he was just some knot-brained Alpha. “Time to talk now?” he groaned, rolling to his side so he could see and touch you.

“I guess so,” you mumbled with not entirely fake discontent. You put both hands under your cheek  and watched him carefully, fully intending on letting him take the lead for the conversation. That’s what Alphas were for, after all. It was probably for the best too, because all you could think about was the thin trail of blood starting down his jaw and when he could knot you again. He’d found you and brought you here, he had to know something, but your mind was still buzzing happily and you could feel the heat licking under your skin, building back up quickly. You needed more.

“Um--well--” He started haltingly. All that Alpha confidence had left him all of a sudden. When you quirked a brow he chuckled and wiped a hand down his face. “This is awkward.”

“I dreamt you up, you knotted me, and your mark is on my neck, but now it’s awkward?” You couldn’t help but laugh at his expression, and then yourself. Your first full sentence to him was a smartass remark, and you couldn’t say you were surprised.

The ridiculousness of the last year of your life had your booming laughter quickly turning to tears. The playful smile was quickly gone from his face, and he leaned forward to capture your tear-stained lips into a kiss.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, Y/N,” he whispered against your lips.

“You keep saying that,” you mumbled back while returning his kiss.

“And I mean it.” He pulled away with a smile that was a little more composed than before. Dean cleared his throat importantly as he looked straight into your eyes with a sly smile. “Hello, Y/N. My name is Dean Winchester, and I’m your Alpha.”

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Questions? Comments? Incoherent screaming because I took 5000 years to get this chapter up?

Bring it on!

🖤

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Dean Tags:

@adoptdontshoppets @akshi8278 @bobasheebaby @paranoiadestroyah

[doseofheroes]

Stalling

Summary: When Bucky is injured in the woods, he comes across a small cabin.

Words: 4072 (wtf)

Pair: bucky x reader

Warnings: violence, swearing

A/n: it is literally my first time writing anything besides a paper for school so sorry for how terrible it is but I had the idea and wanted to try! Also learnt the hard way about formatting so hopefully its somewhat coherent. Also also I wrote it in a night on my phone... Idk if literally anyone will read this but im kinda happy with how it turned out so enjoy!

When you moved out to the middle of nowhere a couple of months ago you knew you were just stalling. After graduating university four quick years later you were no more sure of what you wanted to do now then when you started. So yes, time off to be alone and think for yourself was a stall tactic, but doesn’t mean it was the wrong move right?

The first couple of weeks were peaceful. You were in a small cabin you rented off airbnb located somewhere on the outer edge of the ** forest. Snow fell as slowly creating a fresh layer as you sat inside cozied up with a blanket and some tea reading by the fire. A clichè but still nice.

You made yourself some pasta for dinner and listened to some old Amy Whinehouse tunes. Cleaning up the dishes you decided to call it an early night and went to bed. Little did you know what or rather who would show up at your door that night.

==============================

Bucky and Natasha had set out on mission to the depths of the ** forest where a known hydra base was located. Their job was to only collect intel for now so they could make a proper plan and bring back the group for execution. The base had turned out to be much larger than they had anticipated counting over 250 hydra agents working on the base so far.

“How the hell are we just getting wind of this now?” Bucky stared at the base in confusion.

“Somethings not right. We should’ve heard about this one when we took out the others.” Nat said sharing a concerned look with Bucky.

“We shouldn’t go any further until we get the others” Nat said as she started to pack up.

“We need to figure out what the deal is here” Bucky started “we can’t leave yet.”

“Bucky, there are 250 of them and 2 of us. I know we’re a little above average but thats a bit overkill. No pun intended.”

Bucky smirked at her attempt at humour but there was no way he was leaving just yet. He felt something was off and he wanted to know what. “I’ll do a quick look around. In and out. No contact”

“Bucky, no. Dont be stupid. I get it, but lets not do something we’ll regret. I’m calling this in, i’ll let them know were heading back.”

Bucky sits silently for a second and notices she’s looking for his agreement. He nods.

As Nat trails back to get a signal Bucky turns back to look at the base. “What are you up to...” he says to himself as he looks around. Thats when he sees it. The ever so familiar blue liquid. Fuck he thinks to himself. Theyre trying again...more super soldiers...more....me. His mind flashes back to his hydra days and all the stuff they made him do. This can’t happen.

Against all better judgement he looks back at Nat who is still facing away and starts to descend down the rocks towards the base. He just needs to get the suitcase filled with the serum and get out.

Reaching the outer gates he looks around to make his plan. Thats when all hell brakes loose. A guard patrolling the fence line spots him and starts to yell. Bucky runs over to take him out before anyone notices but it’s too late. Next thing he knows hes taking on an army of hydra agents, shots flying. Nat hears the commotion and turns around. “I don’t believe this.” She says into her comms. She’s about to start the descent when she realizes its too late. Bucky’s down. They’ve got him. This just became a rescue mission.

==============================

Bucky slowly comes to and tries to rub his face but soon realizes he is restrained. Taking in his surroundings he tries not to let panic set in as he looks around the room of the hydra base. Everyone is silently staring at him now that he’s awake. One of the men mutters something to a nurse and she leaves the room. The door bursts open a minute later and in comes a tall thin man with a lab coat. “Hello Mr Barnes. This is a pleasant surprise.” Bucky says nothing but gives the man a blank stare. “I see, the strong but silent type. Well your timing is opportune for us Mr Barnes. you see, we are finally creating our own little army of, well, you to be blunt, and I think you can give me the answers to the questions that remain.” Bucky stays silent not letting his panic show. The doctor doesn’t say much more telling the nurses to start the work up. They start collecting blood samples.

Bucky knows he doesn’t have long before this gets real bad so he starts to form his escape plan in his head. The restraints do not feel like they will be too difficult to break out of, its the building he is unsure of, having been unconscious when they brought him in. I guess we’re gonna wing it he thinks to himself.

Once the nurses clear and all the guards leave except the two at the door, Bucky knows its time. He breaks out of the restraints easily, as he suspected. He knocks on the door and the two guards turn around, eyes widening with realization. They start yelling as he bursts through the door knocking them both out.

As he makes his way through the building things are getting worse and worse. Thats when he sees the doctor, face not of fear, but perhaps interest? Bucky keeps making his way out when he sees a guy blocking the door. He takes a good look at him and he realizes. Shit. This is no regular soldier.

He starts swinging and while he is holding his own, he is still taking quite the beating. I just have to get out he thinks. The soldier now has a rifle. great. Using his arm to deflect the shots he runs full force to take him down but takes a hit in his side. Bucky grunts as the shot stings but the soldier pulls out a knife and Bucky rolls in a near miss.

Ducking and dodging Bucky reminds himself he’s not here to fight, he just needs to get out. He turns and makes a run for it, and is almost home free when he feels a sharp pain in his shoulder and is knocked down. He turns his head to see the knife sticking out of his back. Pulling it out slowly Bucky cringes at the pain but the soldier is already walking back to him.

A knife fight ensues as Bucky desperately tries to stave him off. A realization comes to Bucky. I gotta take the hit to leave. Bucky slows his movements and he feels the knife go straight into his chest. Screaming in pain bucky pulls out the knife almost regretting that, but now, with both knives in his hand he is able to make a run for it throwing the final two knives hitting the soldier twice as he makes his escape.

==============================

Bucky is out of breath and losing feeling as his body tries to recover from the two stab wounds and the shot. He needs to find a safe place to get the bullet out.

After wandering for a few miles Bucky smells smoke. That’s when he sees it. A house...out here? He checks the perimeter for any signs of hyrda or that someone is living there. There is a car in the driveway but no signs point to hydra. He takes the risk and starts to bang on the door.

What the fuck? You think to yourself as you slowly wake up to a loud noise. Fear sets in when you realize someone is banging on your door. You sit in bed waiting for a few minutes hoping they will go away. When the knocking doesn’t subside you decide to go down and check out who it is. God this is stupid, you’ve seen horror movies y/n!!

You look through the doors peephole and thats when you see him. Its dark out so you can’t make out much but you can tell he is handsome. Really y/n? A stranger is knocking on your door in the middle of nowhere at 2 am and you think ‘ooh he’s handsome’?! You mentally scold yourself. Thats when you notice he is clutching his chest.

“Please. I know you’re there. I can hear you. I just need some help and I will leave. I mean you no harm” please for the love of god let me in Bucky thinks to himself.

You are terrified but he looks really hurt. This is a bad idea...you think to yourself but unlock the door anyway.

Bucky perks up at the noise and the door opens slowly. Buckys eyes look up to you and he stares for a second. “Can I come in, please?” He says softly.

“Oh yes sorry!” You say as you let him in, adrenaline rushing. He walks inside slowly looking around before heading to the kitchen. You go to turn on the lights and flick them on before he has time to yell “Dont!” But its too late. You gasp as you take in his injuries and blood soaked clothes.

You look up to his face. “Please, turn them off” he says firmly but quietly. You do as he says. He has the most beautiful blue eyes you think before being kicked back to reality.

“Are you- are you o-okay?” You ask voice shaky. He stays silent. “Well you’re obviously not okay...but do you need...how can I help you? Should I call the police? You should really-“

“Im fine, no need to call anyone” he says cutting you off. “Do you have a towel or something?” You sit there frozen for a few seconds before you spring into action. You disappear upstairs for a few minutes. Bucky takes a deep breath after you leave trying to reorganize his thoughts. The moment he saw your face he forgot, even just for a moment, why he was there in the first place. You had such a calming presence even though you were clearly panicked. You came back arms full with anything you thought could be remotely useful. First aid kit, towels, and a sewing kit you didn’t know you had until now among other things. As you head back to the kitchen you almost drop everything as the man stands shirtless in front of you. You regain composure placing everything on the counter pretending not to see the man smirk.

“I’m going to need you to take the bullet out.” He deadpans. “What?!” You choke out almost laughing at the thought. “I can’t reach it with my other injuries....” he trails off seeing the panicked look on your face “you know what don’t worry about it I think I can manage” A wave of relief floods over you at his words but as he goes to sit you see him wince and you know he was lying for your benefit. Be strong y/n you can do this, you are a strong independent woman “ I can do it. I can take it out. You’re clearly not okay.” Bucky is about to protest but stops when he feels another wave of pain. He nods at you and sterilizes the tweezers before handing them to you. You grab them reluctantly but give him a small smile. He doesn’t know why but that small action gives him enough comfort he thinks he might just be ok. “Okay here goes nothing” you say as he exhale deeply and stick the tweezers in. Bucky grips the counter top and groans. “Im so sorry!” You quickly retreat from your real life game of operation. “No I’m fine keep going” he says and gives you a reassuring smile. “So..” you try to think of some conversation to keep his mind elsewhere. “Do you like cats?” Oh my god bitch are you for real, you are gonna die alone. You clear your throat awkwardly, too late to back out of this conversation. He cracks a smile at your clear embarrassment but answers your question. “Um Ive never had one but I dont mind them I guess. More of a dog person I think” she nods. “Are you...a cat person?” Yikes this is awkward Bucky thinks to himself. But he kind of likes awkward with you. “ Im in animal person in general. Love them all.” You say half focused on the conversation half focused on his side. You try not to let your eyes wander to his abs...and that chest.. ugh is this a man or a god and thats when you realized you had stopped moving and he was staring at you....staring at him. Your eyes quickly dart away and your face heats up at being so blatantly caught enjoying the view. He chuckles and you quickly change the subject. “So care to explain any of this or are you just going to bleed all over my kitchen?” You say almost defensively trying to hide your embarrassment. Bucky stiffens a little. “Are you going to find the bullet or just stare at me all night?” He says half joking, avoiding the question. “I think” you say before grabbing onto the bullet finally and pulling it out quickly. Bucky winces. “that you are avoiding the question” you finish. “You know me so well already!” He states pouring some alcohol over the wound, wincing again. “Here. Stay still.” You say ready to stitch it up. “You’ve really accepted the nurse role” he says smirking “I appreciate it.” He finished more seriously. You smile back. God he loved that smile. Get yourself together barnes, it’s just a pretty girl. “Wait you’re not actually a nurse are you?” He asks suspiciously.You laugh at the accusation. “No. I’m nothing.” Wow way to spill all you life problems in one depressing sentence y/n!! Ughhh why can’t I talk to men. Well when they look this good...”What do you mean?” He asks ignoring the pain of your amateur stitches. Definitely not a nurse...“I just meant I haven’t decided what I am going to do, or be yet...thats all” you give him a weak smile and he nods in understanding. “You want me to do the others?” You point to his stab wounds. casual. “Uh sure, if you dont mind. Thanks” You nod again and begin working. You sit in silence for a bit before something occurs to Bucky. He didn’t kill that solider...they’ll be looking for him...and he may have led them right here to you. You feel Bucky tense and he begins to look around. “Whats wrong?” You ask suddenly nervous again. Wait when did you stop being nervous? “Nothing” he said quickly. “Well sit still im almost done” you say and he nods. You finish the last stitch and sit up.

“There all done! I cannot believe I just did that” You begin to smile but it quickly fades as Bucky immediately stands up and puts his shirt back on. A confused look grows on your face which quickly turns to fear as Bucky starts pulling out your kitchen knives and shoving them in his belt. He grabs your hand and starts to drag you upstairs “come with me”. You follow.

Once upstairs he looks around before opening the closet door. “Uhhh what are you doing” you say ignoring the feeling you get when he grabs your hips and moves you into the closet. “They must have followed me. Stay in here and don’t make a noise. Dont leave until I come get you.” You stare at him waiting for your brain to catch up. “Do you understand? Not a word.” You nod slowly. “You will be okay. I won’t let anyone hurt you I promise.” He turns to leave then pauses. “Im Bucky by the way.” “Y/n” you reply weakly. With that he smiles then closes the door and you hear his footsteps walk back downstairs. You sit in silence the only noise being your heavy breaths for a few minutes before you hear glass smash. Bucky takes in his surroundings, five agents, all heavily armed but no super solider. That can’t be good. He takes them down one by one with ease mentally apologizing for everything he’s breaking in your home. Once the last agent is down he steps outside and listens for more. He can hear them every so slightly which means they can’t be more than a mile away. He needs to get you out of there, you’re sitting ducks.

He runs back inside and grabs your car keys before heading upstairs to retrieve you. He swings open the closet door and you let out a scream and start kicking. “Hey hey its me!” You look up and realize your safe. “Sorry...wh-what happened?” “We need to leave. I got your keys, leave everything here, stay behind me” You get up slowly and nod sticking closely behind him. He walks slowly and quietly down the stairs then pauses. Oh fu- Buckys thoughts get cut off as he ducks to avoid the super soldiers hand swinging at his head. Ho. Ly. Shit. You think watching Bucky expertly fight what looks like a man but appears to have the strength of an elephant. You hide behind a wall peering around to watch when it hits you. Super strong men...bullets...bucky...im in an airbnb with the winter soldier. The realization hits you like a truck and you turn around stunned. You catch your breath and begin to watch again. Fear settles in all over when you see the soldier choking the life out of Bucky. Without thinking you grab a knife from the floor run over and stab him in the back. The soldier loosens his grip just enough for Bucky to break free and snaps the guys neck before he has a chance to grab you. “Thanks...” he huffs out holding his neck “we have to move” He grabs your arm and takes you out to the car. You both get inside and Bucky just starts driving.

==============================

The drive is mostly silence as you try and process what is happening and Bucky tries to figure out what to say. “You don’t have a phone on you do you?” He asks. “No..uh you told me not to grab anything” “Right” More silence. I have to say something Bucky decides. “I’m sorry for dragging you into this. I wasn’t thinking straight and I-“ “You’re the winter soldier aren’t you?” You cut him off. Oh god. Bucky thought this couldn’t get worse, she called me the winter soldier, shes afraid. “I am- or was” He doesn’t know how else to say it without going off. You sit there for a minute in silence. “Ok” is all you say. Bucky looks at you in surprise. “Ok?” “Yeah, ok” you repeat. With that you shift in your seat and nod off. Ok...Bucky repeats this over and over in his head as he drives back to the compound.

==============================

“So..they’re going to be angry with me...just as a heads up.” Bucky says to you as you arrive at the compound. “What? Aren’t you the one who is injured and missing?” “Well, yes, but it’s my fault. I was reckless and I put everyone in danger. Including you. Im sorry.” Bucky suddenly felt even more guilty in remembering that you were now dragged into this too. “It’s okay, honestly, I’m just glad your okay” you said with a smile. It was true. Yes, you were scared shitless at the time but you’re not going to pretend you weren’t psyched to have met Bucky and soon the avengers! Plus..you were going stir crazy in that cabin... oh the cabin...there goes my deposit. Bucky smiled back and got out of the car. You followed him all the way through the front doors to the elevator and down the hall admiring the building around you. This is a Stark building all right...

Bucky slowed and you could hear the avengers in on the other side of the door discussing. He steps inside and stops. “Hey guys” they all whip their heads around to stare at Bucky. Smooth. “ARE YOU KIDDING ME? YOU IDIOT!” You hear a female voice. They all proceed to start yelling at him over one another. “Guys....guys...GUYS” Bucky yells finally prompting them to stop. He steps aside and you figure thats your cue so you enter the room. “Hello” you say awkwardly waving to everyone. They all stare at you then back at him. “Who is this?” Tony friggen stark asks Bucky. “When I escaped i was injured and I came across her house. She stitched me up but they followed me so we took her car and well... here we are!” “Buck, we went in to get you and you weren’t there. What happened?” Oh my goddddd captain america!!!! Neutral face y/n, neutral face, be cool. “I broke out about 30 minutes after I was...taken in... but they had a super soldier of their own. Barely got out of there with a bullet hole and two stab wounds.” Bucky says nonchalantly. Your eyes widen at the implications of his story. For some reason your brain forgot something happened before he showed up at your door. Dude was shot and stabbed twice! What the fuck! “And you coincidentally live up in a cabin in the woods alone near a hydra base?” Tony says to you receiving a glare from Bucky. “Wha- hydra base?- no, I rented that cabin, its an airbnb, I was just staying there for a few months” you say, looking around for confirmation that they believe you. They look at each other skeptically. “She stabbed the super soldier to save me- do I really have to say this?” Bucky tries to defend you. “Hey, look, I should just go home, I don’t mean to cause any trouble” you say suddenly feeling how tired you were. “I’m sorry, but they might have seen you, I can’t let you go home until this is cleared up.” Bucky says sympathetically. Your eyes widen at this statement. You look around at the other faces and your fears are confirmed. “He’s right. We need to figure out what their plan is...and no offence..but who you are.” Steve says earning another glare from bucky. You think about this for a moment. I guess I would be skeptical too... plus staying here wouldn’t be so bad...“Alright. Fair enough.” You say shrugging. Buckys face looks surprised but then relieved. In fact they all look relieved.“Well all right sergeant, show the lady to her room” Tony says grinning at Bucky. With that you follow Bucky through the building.

==============================

When you and Bucky finally reach your new room you can tell he wants to say something. “Im so so-“ “thanks f-“ You both speak at the same time. “You first” you say, giggling.Buckys heart clenches at the sound. ”Look, im just really sorry about all of this, I don’t know how to make it up to you.” You can see the guilt on his face. You want to wipe it away with your hands..mouth... god y/n, you sad little daydreamer. “Really truly, its okay. If it were to be anyone I’m glad its me, I was literally in the middle of doing nothing” you say laughing. “But I know how you can make it up to me” you say smiling. “How, anything” he says, face lighting up, not letting his mind go to the places her statement suggested. My first choice would be to for you to push me up against this door and make out with me buuuut... “give me a tour of this place tomorrow?” You say, the confidence of your subconscious not quite reaching your mouth. “Deal” he says nodding. His eyes linger over you for too long before he notices you stifling a yawn. “Sorry, youve had a long night, I’ll let you sleep. See you tomorrow.” “Tomorrow” you say smiling as he leaves the room. Left alone in this strange place, your thoughts swirl on only one thing, or should you say only one man.

=================================

To be continued?

Comments appreciated :)

[little-shiny-sharpies]

Doubletrouble Angel/Demon AU Idea (Alternate Title: Me Being A Dumbass Simp For Your Content)

Hi! So I’m a really big fan of your content and I’m in love with both your TFA self-insert and Doubletrouble, so I came up with this stupid little AU prompt that I wanted to share with you. This is probably going to end up being kinda cringy, but you know what they say, you’ll never know unless you try. Hope you enjoy it! Dawn used to be a normal angel of hope residing in the Realm of Angels, helping to keep humans on the right track in life, blessing them, and rewarding them for their good deeds. But after a vicious argument with her former best friend and fellow angel Sari regarding her abandonment by the latter, she ends up being corrupted with envy and hate and falls from the Realm of Angels. Thankfully, however, she hasn’t fully fallen yet, so the archangels decide to give her a second chance and assign her a mission: if she goes down to the Realm of Demons and manages to successfully rehabilitate a demon that has some good deep down inside of them, she will be able to return to the Realm of Angels and will be welcomed back with open arms. However, after she ventures into the Realm of Demons, the demon she chooses to help redeem, Blitzwing, an strange hybrid creature who has three separate demonic personalities, one of sloth (Icy, though with him it’s more spiritual than physical; he’s emotionally constipated, feels only apathy towards the suffering of others, prefers to follow orders rather than think for himself, and focuses so much on work he procrastinates on taking care of himself), one of wrath (Hothead; this should probably be obvious), and one of gluttony (Random; though with him it’s more based on the hedonistic and selfish aspects; he basically does whatever he wants and doesn’t bother to restrain himself and ignores dire situations and the condition of those around in favor of cheap, temporary thrills and momentary satisfaction) all forced to share the exact same body, seems like he’s a lost cause. Despite this, after a bit of a rough start, the two get to know each other better and manage to bond and form a close friendship, which soon ends up blossoming into something more. But when she finds out that Blitzwing is working a demonic terrorist organization that plans to overthrow both Earth and the Realm of Angels and ends up getting tangled up in it, will she still be able to complete her mission and ascend back to the Realm of Angels with Blitzwing in tow? Or will she find herself succumbing to corruption and fully fall to become a demon alongside him.

---

OH MY GOSH THIS IS SO COOL?? AND YOU THOUGHT THIS WAS CRINGE?? I AM A SUCKER FOR CHEESY TROPES OR WHATEVER THERES NO SHAME ANON.. You wrote this!! For me???? YOU LIKE MY STUFF???? You took the time and sent me this? I cannot form the words for thanking such a thing. Theres so much cool stuff here just.. the potential is overwhelming the angst, the wholesome, the slice of life, the comedy, and not to compare apples and oranges but I'm loving the slight "Good omens" vibe here. This has been living rent free in my head since I read it and it has made my post surgery recovery so much better and just KSJDKSJSBS THANK YOU I MADE ART FOR THIS IM GONNA POST NOW BECAUSE THIS IS SO COOL AND I LOVE YOU ANON

[petite-neko]

Trapped in the Past - 04

Fanfiction: Trapped in the Past Story Summary: The past can sometimes be a nice place to visit, however one should not spend too much time lingering in times already long gone if one can help it… Fandom: Dragon Ball Z Characters: Gohan, Goten, Videl, Sharpener (M!Trunks, Cell, Vegeta, Goku) Pairing: Gohan/M!Trunks Rating: T Warnings: Depression, Character Death, Angst, PTSD Author’s Notes:  This chapter hurts the heart. At least mine. (I set up a ko-fi account guys! Feel free to donate! Link in blog description!)

(Check source for ao3 link!) Chapter 3 || Chapter 4: Saviour || Chapter 5

Saviour

That was him. That was that man from the future. Not him.

They had told Gohan that he was Earth's last hope. That it fell to him. That he was the saviour.

He sure didn't feel like it.

.xxx.

"No! No!" The shouts came from one man as he held his head, shaking it in denial. “No!!”

In response, a second man cried out. "Restrain him!"

"What is the point anymore?!" As he continued to protest, he felt a sharp pain at the base of his neck.

"Are you certain about this?" The third man asked, looking down at the now unconscious man in his arms.

"Yes... if I can at least save one timeline it’s worth dying a few minutes earlier. Now go!"

.xxx.

He dreaded this. He truly did. He knew exactly what he was going to do was going to do to Videl, but he had to do it. He had to break her heart.

The Son had told himself over and over that this was for the best. Videl deserved better, if he did it sooner it wouldn’t hurt as much compared to if he did it later. The sooner he got this over with, the sooner Videl could move on, she was just wasting her life on him. Yet, despite all of these reasons, it still felt so wrong.

You should have never been with her in the first place.

He knew that he was selfish, needy, desperate. It needed to end.

But it was so hard.

He could remember the peaceful bliss he had with her, that relief and that hope!

But it was all a lie.

Gohan knew better, and that little fantasy he built for himself was falling apart at the seams. The nightmares had returned, the memories were resurfacing, and the darkness was back. He had no clue as to why either.

He once more repeated the reasons to himself once more he told himself that this was the right thing to do. That, yes, he had to do this.

Since when have you ever done the right thing?

Blinding, sheering light.

Gohan held his head, begging the memory to go away.

Screams of terror.

“Go away... go away...”

”Goodbye Gohan.”

He needed to set this right!

“Gohan?”

Great, now even Sharpener had noticed!

“Are you alright?”

Lying never really was his strong suit... “Yeah...” He winced. “I’ve just been having trouble sleeping lately. End up dreaming awake now.” Oh, he most certainly hoped that would never be the case...

“Maybe you should get that checked out man. Certainly they’ve gotta have some meds for that or something. If it gets any worse that is.”

“Nah...” Gohan had to rub his hair. Sharpener didn’t know that he wasn’t completely human... Only Videl did, that sweet girl. Never shunning him for what he was... “I don’t really like taking medication. I’ll look into some teas however.”

“Good idea!”

Gohan sighed in relief, at least he was able to fool Sharpener. Videl on the other hand... she was looking at him. She didn’t believe him one bit... He resisted another sigh and looked at the clock.

Well he knew one way to get her to leave him alone...

Hastily Gohan scribbled on a scrap of paper.

Meet me on the roof after class.

The half saiyajin hesitated. He took in a breath and closed his eyes before tossing the paper at Videl. It had taken him all morning to work up the courage to write a simple note... But it was now or never...

.+++.

“So you finally decided to tell me?” The daughter of Hercule Satan asked indignantly, her hands on her hips.

She’s the spitting image of Mom...

Gohan shook that thought from his mind.

“Well?”

And out came that sigh he had been holding back... "It's just - let's just leave it as a haunt from my past.... I already know what you would say. It would be no different than what everybody else has already said, and not even they understood.” When Videl was about to protest, Gohan shook his head. “That is not what I called you up here for.”

He exhaled. Now or never Gohan. Now or never... Remember. This is for her. She deserves better. Remember that. “Videl I... listen. I love you...”

There was a heavy sigh of relief and tense laughter. “What? Is that it? Here I thought it was something serious! I already—”

“Videl let me finish.” He couldn't help but chew his lip nervously. “I-I...”

Hard. This was too hard. Maybe if he tried a different approach? “You know already. I know you do. It’s in your eyes. The way you react, you’ve been guessing all along, but I have been too blind until now." Yes, yes this was easier. "I love you Videl, but not in the right way.”

As he explained, he knew he was right. The realization sparked in her eyes, tears forming, the way her head shook in denial.

She didn’t want to believe it either.

“Y-You’re joking right? Or maybe we just need more time!” Her voice cracked with emotion. “Yeah! That’s it!”

“It’s been a year Videl...”

“I can wait! And even if you’re right it’s—”

“Don’t even say it Videl! I’m not going to let you settle! You deserve so much more...” Gohan placed his hands on her shoulders, looking in her eyes. “You would be so empty inside. Even if we did continue this, if we grew old together, had a family... you would be so empty. I don’t want that for you.”

“Gohan, please! I’ve accepted that already. And you’re so powerful, and—”

He offered a sad smile and brushed away one of her tears. He knew she would protest. He knew she would try to convince him that she was okay with it. But he was prepared for this too. “Have I ever told you that I hate fighting?”

The comment shocked Videl. “Wh-What?” She said as she looked up at him with puffy blue eyes.

“I’ve hated it all of my life, but I’ve learned to accept it overtime. Even now, I hesitate to fight, I cringe when the first blows are made. I made the decision to fight to protect, and I have to live with it. But you don’t have to accept things as they are Videl. Marrying me is a choice that won’t save the world. Would you really sacrifice a truly happy, passionate love over a content, calm one? Would you willingly let something go even when you haven’t yet experienced it? You’re a fiery woman, you need a raging waterfall, not a trickling stream. Besides,” Gohan gave her another sad smile, “I notice that hope. Even if you’ve accepted my passivity, you still hope, you still want - just as I hope and I want my enemies to shake my hand and go away peacefully even though I know it will never happen.”

Grabbing the fabric of his shirt, Videl sobbed into it. “G-Gohan... Pl-I love-You.”

“Shh...” Gohan said and wrapped an arm around her in comfort. “I know you do, and I do too, but in a different way. Because I do, I need to end us, I need to let you find true happiness.”

Videl clenched his shirt tighter in her fists as her sobs increased in volumes and strength.

Gohan’s face fell with guilt as he let her sob against him.

.+++.

Following lunch, Gohan had sat away from his friends, and he had asked for them to stay with Videl. She needed the consoling, not he. Of course, it did hurt him, but this was something that had to be done. It was her heart that was broken not his. (It was his fantasy that was broken instead.)

It had taken him longer than usual to go home.

He had not taken the usual route, but instead wandered around, lost in thought. And tired. Oh so tired...

When he had finally arrived at home, he could see those looks of concern on his father’s and Goten’s identical face. He knew. He knew that they knew something was wrong. They could feel his Ki. The way it weakened day by day, the way it heightened in the middle of the night...

That look of concern... it only made matters worse.

“I’m fine...”

What else could he say? His father... Goku. No. Not ever. He could never tell his father. Never.

He could see the disappointment in his eyes.

“Gohan...”

His emotions were making him...

Explode.

Gohan ran into his room.

.+++.

Again! Again! It happened again!

“How dare you!”

As those words were screamed out into the air, he couldn’t help but feel that they were directed to somebody else...

It was a scream that woke him up that night.

Sleep... sleep... all he wanted was to sleep. A night of peaceful, uninterrupted sleep. For everything to just… stop.

How much longer could he last?

It had been so long since he last had these bouts, but he still remembered. As a kid, his mother watched him like a hawk, but whenever he visited Capsule Corp, he could always grab some coffee or tea. (Without his mother knowing of course.)

Now, he was considering it on a more frequent basis. The lack of sleep, the stress... it was getting to him.

Sleep.

Peace.

Happiness.

Such things were unobtainable by him, weren’t they? And now... he had given it all up when he told Videl...

“Gohan...”

As he looked up in shock, he feared that it was his father - but no, it was his younger brother at his door.

“I heard you screaming...”

It broke his heart to see the young boy like this. Children...

That is all that he was. A child.

Gohan winced at the recollection.

A child who had too much responsibility.

A child who cared too much.

Gohan held his head. “Shut up...” He whispered to himself. “Shut up....”

“B-Big brother?”

Gohan’s eyes widened. “Goten! No! I’m sorry... I meant...” He sighed and gave a weak smile. “I was not talking to you.”

“Who were you talking to then?” That innocent head tilted.

Myself. And that thought honestly terrified him. “My nightmare.”

"You have them a lot... I remember it before Dad came back... You had so many..."

Oh how it hurt to know that Goten even knew.

"Dad doesn't know...does he?" There was a hand holding his. "Brother..." The grip was firm. "Did you want to sleep in my bed? That helps me. You want my teddy?"

Innocence. Pure. Untainted. That is what a child should be.

There was a weak smile and a shake of his head. Gohan squeezed his brother's hand gently. "I don't want to sleep again Goten. Thank you though. You should go back to sleep."

"But Gohan! Sleep is important!" So much worry in those eyes.

He was to blame.

It was his fault.

His fault. His fault.

It's your fault. You're to blame. It's because of you. Your fault. Weak. Useless. You can't do it. You failed. Failure.

"Big brother...? You're crying..."

[soaringsails]

5. A Significant Offer

Wordcount: 4,280 Warnings: more violence Summary: Finally face to face with the goddess and her wizard, Neema makes an interesting deal, Naiakiir makes a new friend, Callie makes helpful music, Lisseth makes water dangerous, and Runa just makes a mess. That’s inevitable when the wizard pulls out all the stops in the fight for control...

As soon as the door closes, the dragonet moves in front of it, pacing silently, its eyes on Runa, Lisseth, and Callie. Lisseth puts a hand on Runa’s arm just as the other girl starts to raise her sword.

“Don’t,” Lisseth says quietly. “We don’t know where they’re taking them.”

“Not gonna find out if we don’t--”

“Give them a few minutes,” Callie interrupts, adding her own restraining hand to Runa’s shoulder. “Maybe they’ll just talk to him and be back before we know it.” She doesn’t sound very confident about it.

“Really want to give them a bigger head start?” Runa growls.

Lisseth and Callie share a nervous glance, but nod. “Let’s not get them killed by interfering,” Lisseth says.

Runa makes a face, but some of the knotted tension leaves her and the others let go of her. “Five minutes,” she says. “If they’re not back by then…”

She leaves the threat hanging open. The dragonet simply growls and continues pacing in front of the closed door.

The hallway behind the door isn’t terribly long, but it curves slightly, and slopes downward again. Neema looks up at the ceiling, noting the shallow stairs hanging above them. There is no door at the end of the corridor: it simply opens up into a massive room at what must have been the very highest point of the temple. Now it is the lowest, buried deep in the earth, but still, somehow, improbably and impossibly preserved.

The room is dominated by a central altar: hourglass-shaped with two tiered pyramids climbing from the floor and the ceiling, the stone steps covered in glittering tiles and innumerable candles. In the space where the two pyramids would meet, there hangs an immense crystalline statue of a woman. Beautifully carved, facets of crystal reflecting the warm glow of the candles, it has the look of a natural growth, with planes of jagged and rough hewn rock. It seems almost as though it might have grown this way, if not for the unmistakably deliberate shape of wings, dress, and figure.

Once, she might have been welcoming, her arms outstretched, hands gently cupped as they reached skyward. The effect, however, is made almost eerie by the fact that she, like the rest of the temple, is upside-down, now suspended so she seems to clutch toward the earth, stretching to seize any who might draw near.

In the space under her, reaching up in a diminutive mirror of the statue’s position, is Sidhale. He kneels, hand resting within the statue’s, and there’s a tingle of power in the air: the Source, channeling through the crystal goddess into him--her devoted, her movable hands in the world. He looks down the steps as Caenlat ushers Neema and Naiakiir into the room, and though there’s a moment of surprise in his eyes, it’s swiftly covered in the smooth, slick sneer they’d seen before.

“Well,” he says, standing up easily, his broken arm and gunshot wounds seemingly disappeared, “I’ve seen a lot of things, but did not expect this.” He shoots a glare at Caenlat, one that promises she will be dealt with later if there is no suitable explanation, and turns his attention to Naiakiir and Neema. “Why have you brought them here, to the holiest inner sanctum?”

Caenlat ducks her head, cringing away slightly as she gestures toward the two women. “I believe…we may have acted in error. She says she was called, brought to the goddess, as you were, Great One.”

Sidhale tips his head, eyes glittering as he sizes up Neema and Naiakiir. “Is this so? One of you claims to be Chosen?”

Neema steps forward, shaking off her amazement at the sight of the temple’s inner sanctum, so whole and unbroken despite the Fracture and centuries buried in the earth. She focuses on Sidhale, taking in his newly healed form and merely raising an eyebrow at his question. If he is surprised by her fearlessness, he does not let it show.

“I do not claim anything,” she says, mounting the first step. “It is true. I am Chosen.”

Sidhale lets out a sinister-sounding laugh. “Oh, are you? One of the sky people come to see the fearful power they never managed to tame. But who am I to judge devotion? If the goddess truly chose you, then you should not fear to speak to her.” He drops his hand from the statue’s, gesturing for Neema to take his place.

“Of course,” he adds after a moment, “if you are lying, she will know. And she will punish you for your presumption, and you will be made to serve in more...base capacities.”

Neema ignores the crass threat, taking a few more steps forward, but Naiakiir’s hand on her arm stops her.

“Are you sure?” the diplomat asks quietly, still keeping an eye on Caenlat as the naga hovers behind them, looking between Sidhale and Neema. “You don’t have to do as he says, we could... It’s not too late to figure out something else.”

Neema takes one small moment to tuck away what she wants to say. I have to know if this goddess is real. “This is the way forward,” Neema mutters back. “We must make certain that no one else falls victim to this. If we want to stop the kidnappings, we have to stop Sidhale.”

“I--I know, but…” Naiakiir looks up at the wizard, who is still smirking, waiting patiently. She glances back at Caenlat again. “Just be careful, Neema, okay? There’s power here.”

The Coalitioner smiles reassuringly, patting the stock of the rifle she’s pretty sure she’s going to name Old Faithful. “I’ve got this just in case. It’ll be fine.”

Naiakiir nods, letting go, and Neema climbs the steps on the narrow path that’s free of candles. She hesitates a moment, sparing one more glance for Sidhale, whose smile grows wider as he gestures for her to take the statue’s hand. She takes a deep breath, reaches up, and rests her palm against the crystal finger.

It’s warm, surprisingly, as if the candles flickering below infused it with some of their heat. Neema feels...comforted. Welcomed. And in the silence of the temple, a warm voice that sounds as if it is made up of sunbeams whispers, “Neema.”

Neema’s heart races; there’s a feeling of power behind that voice, and the same power is pulsing like a heartbeat just out of reach on the other side of the crystal. If she could reach through the smooth surface of it, she thinks, she might touch it. But she’s not entirely sure she wants to.

“How do you know my name?” she asks.

A warm chuckle sounds like a faint echo of summer. “I know everything about you.” The voice hums. “Your hopes, your wishes, your fears.”

“Then you know I come seeking knowledge,” Neema says. “And...to serve.” She's ready to withdraw that offer if the service demanded is more than she’s willing to give, but she'll risk the promise of it to learn more about a goddess she'd only read about.

There’s a sigh, like a warm breeze, and an overwhelming feeling of relief. “There was a time when many came to serve. They brought gifts and gained power and made me strong. Now there are so few. What do you seek in your servitude?”

“Devotion,” Neema answers automatically, remembering the passphrase from the Guardian.

“Interesting. Most seek power.”

“Well, I’m not most,” Neema says, thinking of Sidhale. “Did he want only power?”

There’s a brief flash of a feeling of contempt. Neema can’t tell if the feelings are from the statue or from herself. “Sidhale wanted many things. But he offered much in return. There can be no power without faith for a being such as Ariah.”

“You needed him to bring you followers--believers,” Neema realizes. “You need people to worship you so that you won’t fade away.”

There’s a hint of a smile in the voice. “Devotion requires sacrifice. Those who serve must learn to give that which is valuable for that which is utmost. Sidhale has learned this lesson well. If you wish to truly be Chosen, you must offer something of great value.”

There is a small mental tug accompanying the words. An understanding of an implication rather than one spoken outright. Neema turns to face Naiakiir. The warmth in the voice turns to a sick sort of satisfaction.

“What gift could be of more value than a human life?”

Neema recoils from the thought as soon as she understands what she is being asked to do, though she tries not to let on to Ariah. This is much too far. She has boundaries, strict lines that she mustn’t cross. Desperately, she casts around for another option--perhaps it isn’t necessary that she care for the person in question. Neema allows herself a single breath to firm her resolve. “Would Sidhale’s life serve?” she asks instead.

The warm chuckle lasts just too long to be comfortable. There’s an edge to it, an eagerness. “He has already offered his life. But perhaps you mean to offer it to me differently? Perhaps you can do…better.” The voice disappears, the warm presence retreating into ominous silence.

Neema opens her eyes, blinking, and suddenly understands that not a single second passed during her conversation with Ariah. Below them, Naiakiir is still turning toward Caenlat. Sidhale remains, smug and calculating, but there is an understanding of the challenge in his eyes, an almost vicious light, eager to prove himself.

“So,” he says smoothly, “it seems we are t--”

Neema doesn’t give him time to finish. Ever quick on the draw, her hands move on instinct, leveling the rifle at Sidhale in one smooth motion. Before he can move, she shoots him in the shoulder.

He roars in pain, stumbling back, pressing a hand to the wound, staring at the bright red blood that comes away on his palm. He looks back at Neema with fire in his eyes and the wickedest of smiles on his face.

“Didn’t the goddess tell you she gave me power?” he spits, and before Neema can stop him, he reaches up and slaps his hand against the statue, drawing on the pulsing Source coursing through it that Neema could not reach.

There’s a moment where time seems to slow--it does not quite stop as it did when Neema spoke to Ariah, but everything in the shrine feels somehow...stretched. And Sidhale changes. The air around him twists, the candles below him flicker as if in a sudden strong wind and then blaze up too brightly. In the sudden flash of heat, Sidhale disappears, the very reality around him distorting until there materializes in his place a massive white dragon.

The dragonets they fought higher up the temple had been perhaps the size of a small pony. The white dragon now looming over Neema is more akin to a small whale. His eyes glitter, seeming to burn with his goddess’ power, an inner light. His talons are about the length of Neema’s leg. His wings spread to consume the space in the shrine, dwarfing everything in their presence. He grins, revealing teeth longer than Neema’s rifle, and he roars, the sound echoing through the chamber and up the halls of the temple and possibly all the way to Wress.

Neema looks up at him, shocked for a moment, but her expression settles into grim determination, and before he can do more than scream, she shoots him.

The bullet grazes his shoulder, leaving a line of sparks along his scales, and he laughs. “Usurper!” he booms, voice now possessing the same sibilant quality Caenlat and the other naga suffer. “Perversion! I have given her everything, and you seek to replace me? I will crush you, and the goddess will remember who brought her back to the light!”

The moment the dragon’s roar sounds through the temple, Callie’s hand darts out, gripping Runa’s arm. The fighter, sword already raised, looks at her in confusion. Before she can ask why Callie would stop her now, when the others are so obviously in some sort of danger, the bard draws on the Source and sings, low and urgent. The music turns into magic in the air and fills Runa with that boost of confidence, that burst of inspiration.

Runa smiles and leaps, her sword scything through the dragonet. Lisseth turns in surprise, but the small dragon is already dead, Runa’s second thrust buried in its chest.

“We going?” the fighter says, ripping her sword free of the reptile. “That wasn’t a good sound, right?”

Callie just nods, taking a deep breath. “Yeah, they need us.” She turns toward Houna and the other kidnapped citizens. “Will you be okay?”

The woman glances up at her, tightening her grip on the knife stolen from the last naga. She nods. “We’ll be fine. Go save your friends.”

“Hopefully they don’t need saving,” Lisseth says with a wry grin. “But everyone can use a bit of help.” She draws on the Source, readying.

Runa hauls on the door, dragging it open, using it to shove the body of the dragonet out of the way.

“We’re lucky that wasn’t locked,” Callie says, plunging into the hallway.

“Here--” Lisseth gives them a moment of warning before she splays a hand toward the floor, throwing a sheet of water down it. The wave sweeps Callie and Runa’s feet out from under them, like a water slide, swooping them down the hallway quickly. Lisseth lets the wave subside and follows behind them, running to catch up.

Naiakiir watches the dragon in growing apprehension for a moment before shaking herself out of her fear. She wants nothing more than to run, but Neema is facing down a dragon; the least Naiakiir can do is take on the naga, save her friend from an arrow in the back… For a moment she imagines how Runa, Lisseth, Neema herself would act, and falters. She can’t abandon her friend, but she can’t… She can’t attack Caenlat either.

She takes a deep breath, stepping back a little, trying to be unobtrusive. Not that she needs to; Caenlat is absorbed in the fight taking place on the shrine’s steps, her eyes glued to the dragon that was Sidhale in something between fear and awe. The naga seems torn, as though uncertain whether she should interfere or not. Naiakiir watches as Caenlat tightens her grip on her bow, the shifting stance jostling her quiver.

Arrow in the back. She just has to save her friend from an arrow in the back.

Naiakiir takes a deep breath, darts forward, and snatches the arrows from Caenlat’s quiver, leaving the naga grasping a second later at only empty space.

Caenlat turns, hissing as she realizes what happened.

“Caenlat!” Naiakiir starts, clutching the arrows tight behind her back, holding her ground even as her legs shake. She has to keep her distracted. “Remember what Neema said? She’s Chosen. This is...you can’t interfere.”

“I--” the naga pauses, a hand going to her head. She turns with doubt toward the giant dragon, watching as Neema shoots him again, twice, and he roars as the scales on his chest are blasted away. “He’s hurting--she’s hurting him...!”

“You’re trying to serve Ariah, right?” Naiakiir asks, voice steadying as she figures out her angle. “Sidhale told you he knew the way, but he was wrong. She doesn’t approve of how he’s been running things. So she called Neema here, to set things right.”

“Sidhale said--only he knows…”

“No, only Ariah knows. Sidhale is imperfect, while Ariah…” Naiakiir pauses, remembering something Neema said earlier. “Everything that happens in the sight of the goddess is her will, right?”

“I…” Caenlat grips her bow tighter, her hand straying to her empty quiver again, clenching in frustration. But she doesn’t attack Naiakiir, who takes that as a good sign. She keeps talking to her, pulling her back from the fight, tugging gently on her arm and drawing her away.

They pass the door just as Runa and Callie come shooting out on the last crest of Lisseth’s wave. Callie bounces to her feet, staring at the dragon in shock for a moment before turning to Naiakiir in concern. The diplomat just nods to her, shrugging and pointing her toward the dragon, keeping a restraining hand on Caenlat. Callie nods and follows Runa across the floor of the shrine toward the steps and the dragon.

Neema is holding her own, much to her own surprise and the dragon’s frustration. His bulk makes it hard for him to dodge her shots and track her nimble movements as she darts under and around him. She shoots him in the belly, leaving a gaping hole, and pops up behind him, hastily trying to reload her rifle as she dodges a swipe from his back leg. The massive claw catches her coat, leaving a long tear in the panels of fabric and her heart racing. That was too close. She’s covered in scratches and bruises simply from dodging and rolling away, but a hit from one of his powerful limbs would be devastating.

She hears Runa’s shout before she sees her, dashing up the steps, sword already out and bloody. Relief floods Neema at the sight of an ally, and as the dragon’s attention turns to the new threat, the gunslinger has a moment to catch her breath and reload her gun again.

Runa slams her sword into one of the dragon’s front legs, leaving a deep wound in the muscle above the joint. He cries out, striking at her, but she ducks under the thrust. He turns as Neema shoots him again, two bullets firing off the ridge of scales along his back. He sweeps his tail into an attack, catching Runa with a glancing blow and throwing her to the ground. She ignores her aching ribs and stands up, attacking again, her sword flashing in the candlelight until it looks like it’s on fire.

Callie stands clear of the main fight, her heart in her throat at the sight of two of her friends fighting in such close quarters with a dragon. She’s heard stories about dragons--what good bard hasn’t?--but she never thought she’d see one. Even living on the surface, where monsters are common and one heard terrible things about the wilderness, it seems impossible that dragons still pose a threat this close to a city. But here she is, and here it is.

And she isn’t going to just stand there and let it kill Neema and Runa.

She connects to the Source, pulling that crescendo into herself through her amulet, letting it swell up until it seems like too much. She sends a burst of inspiration to Runa first, a few quick lines of an old upbeat song full of energy; the music soaks up the magic, mirroring the tone and manifesting it as real energy that sends Runa to her feet in a burst of adrenaline, sword slicing across the dragon’s face as he tries to bite her.

Callie makes her own attack then, shifting the song without missing a beat. She thinks about war drums and knives and sings out the darkness she used to know so well, sharpening the magic to slam into the dragon’s mind like a scythe. He stumbles, shaking his head, and though she didn’t draw blood, Callie knows she hurt him.

Lisseth moves up beside her, ice already forming on the edges of her pearlescent water bottle. She sends the icicles forward with a simple flick of her wrist, one after the other, aiming for the dragon’s unfurled wings. He roars in pain as she pierces the thin membranes, leaving ragged, frozen holes in the skin. There’s an icy calm about her that matches the state of her magic where it’s pooled in her core. She treads water on the surface of her power for a moment, gathering her breath and another handful of ice before repeating her attack.

Naiakiir keeps watch on the fight while she keeps her restraining hand on Caenlat’s arm. The naga winces each time Sidhale is wounded again, and she cries out in a mirror of his own roar when one of Neema’s bullets burrows under a loose scale and lodges.

“They’re going to kill him!” Caenlat protests, straining forward, but Naiakiir stops her.

“They’re doing what they came here to do,” she says. “And Ariah is not stopping them. She Chose Neema to carry out her will and further her power, which Sidhale has been twisting to his own ends. You’re sworn to the goddess, not this man. He may have served her once, but now he is only hurting people. She wants him gone--you don’t need to protect him!”

“I--I am sworn to her through him. I must help him, I… I must...” Caenlat says, her hand on her head again, eyes closed in pain. “She granted him power which he passed on to us, so we must...serve him. At all costs. I can’t--”

“All he’s done is hurt you!” Naia shouts, voice cracking. “He isn’t serving the goddess or anything good, only his own cruel ambitions. He kidnaps people and tortures them and brainwashes them! He is perverting Ariah’s power so she sent us here to stop him. Why do you still defend him! Please, look at what he’s done to you! Why can’t you see how awful he is?”

Caenlat’s face twists in confusion, despair, and anger for a moment, and then she’s looking away again, almost shaking, weakly pulling against Naiakiir’s grasp.

The diplomat knows that her words make sense. Caenlat’s protests are so half-hearted now; she’s listening, so why isn’t it getting through? She says she serves the goddess, and she believes that the goddess could stop Neema if this coup weren’t her will, so why isn’t Caenlat turning on Sidhale? It’s almost like she…

It’s almost like she physically can’t.

Naia’s hand reaches slowly, out of habit, to the ring she’s worn in her right ear since she was five years old, her protection focus. She has to focus. She has to do something. This poor creature, Caenlat, used to be human. She’s been twisted, corrupted, into defending the very monster who hurt her. Naia has to help her. She has to.

She draws her breath for one more attempt, one more plea, and as she does so she draws on the Source. Its warmth flares up inside her, burning with her determination to protect, and she pushes it towards Caenlat.

There’s no gentle shimmer of a protective barrier falling into place, ready to deflect physical damage, but it still feels right. She pushes harder, willing all her power and warmth and certainty into the shaking form of her newest friend.

“Caenlat.” Naiakiir says, gently. “You don’t have to obey him. Sidhale trapped you for a long time, but we’re here now. I’m sorry it took us so long, but now you’re free.”

Caenlat shakes her head, her eyes clearing, a subtle glint of magic falling away from her and scattering. Naiakiir feels the Source returning to her, as it does when her barriers break, their jobs done. Caenlat frowns in confusion. Her shoulders are less tense, her hands relaxing from fists, her entire body seeming to move easier. Her bow clatters to the ground, falling from her loose grip.

“What...happened?”

“I’m not sure,” Naiakiir admits, eyes wide, “I’ve never done that before. But I hope it helped?”

“I…” Caenlat trails off, her eyes darting back to the dragon fight, but she does not reach for her empty quiver this time. “Sidhale…”

Almost as if he heard her speak his name, he turns, eyes still ablaze with malice. He roars in defiance, snarling, and Caenlat moves back, tripping over the wounded coils of her snake tail. Naiakiir steps in front of her, protecting her.

Callie shouts for her to get back, to run, but before she can do anything, the dragon lunges--and stalls, his back leg skittering out from beneath him as Neema fires the rifle point-blank into his thigh. He rears up, roaring, catches her with a sweep of his wing, throwing her down several steps where she lands, the breath driven from her.

Runa takes the opportunity. She dives forward, toward the dragon, under him, sliding along the slippery trail of blood he’s lost and finds the wound Neema has left: the double-bullet hole to the soft scales of his stomach. She screams as she stabs up, her sword sinking in to the hilt and she twists it. She keeps sliding, dragging the sword with her, leaving an opening gash along his underbelly.

And then, suddenly, as if there had never been a dragon at all, the massive creature disappears. Several scales clatter to the bloody ground, and Runa stands, confused in the middle of it all.

A low, heavy laugh sounds from behind her. Sidhale’s thin, tired form is kneeling in the shadow of the statue, reaching up to grasp the hand of his goddess. His shoulder is still bleeding from where Neema shot him before he transformed, but the dragon’s wounds have not carried over. He laughs again, struggling to his feet, using the statue to pull himself up to stand.

“You,” he spits out past heaving breaths, “will serve.”

Runa scoffs. “Not servin’ no one,” she shouts back with equal venom.

As she raises her sword to charge up the steps toward him, he merely laughs, leveling his hand at her. His eyes close as he draws on the Source, the crystalline statue behind him pulsing with power…

.

[k-renne]

Dream On, Senator Pt. XII

A/N: Thank you so much to those who have followed this story so part, the next chapter is going to be mainly nsfw content so if that’s not your cup of tea I hope you liked this. It’s been my passion project, probably the longest story I’ve ever committed too so thanks for sticking with me.

Previously: Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, Part XI, Part X, Part XI

Blue and red flashes, the blaring sound of an alarm. The Resistance was under attack. You woke up with a start, cringing at the awful sound that made you leave your peaceful slumber. The urge to go back to sleep was heavy, you could barely keep you eye open, but the piercing sound of the alarm kept your mind awake.

You looked over to Ben who seemed to be miraculously sleeping through it, and who also had an arm secured around your body. You wrestled yourself free from his grasp and left the bed, ironically this is what woke him up, not the awful alarm.

“Ugh baby, come back to bed,” Ben says hoarsely, voice thick with sleep.

“Do you not here what is happening? And don’t call me baby!” You nearly shout at him. Slowly Ben catches on, jumping up when he finally realizes.

“Y/N! What are you doing? We gotta go,” He urges, grabbing your hand to lead you out of the base.

“What am I doing? You’re such a brat Ben!” You reply angrily, interrupting your sleep already made you grumpy as it is, he sure wasn’t helping. Before you know it you’re being hoisted up over Ben’s shoulders, as he carries you and your small bag of belongings (including both of the light sabers) all the way to the hangar.

Resistance members are scattered, the base is under attack, guess it was time to leave this system. Orders are being shouted over the chaos, scatter, we will reunite when the time comes. The General stands among them, the obvious leader, seeing you and Ben she runs up to you.

She wants to tell you to look after your son, but it just doesn’t seem right, especially with the way that he’s carrying you. Her heart warms at the fact that he finally found someone that he cares for, someone he’d want to protect. In some ways it reminded Leia of her own relationship with Han, she just hoped Ben was smart enough not to let you go. Luckily she just manages to catch up to you, chuckling as she saw you yelling at Ben, ahh young love.

“Hey you two!” She calls your attention. Ben finally puts you down. He walks over to you, pulling you with him by the hand. “I just wanted to say May the Force be with you, and watch out for each other,” She says.

“May the Force be with you,” You and Ben reply. With that, it’s the two of you together again, alone in a sea of scorching stars. You sigh in relief, glad that you avoided any major conflicts. You already had enough problems to deal with from Ben alone, you didn’t have enough energy to deal with anything else this early in the day.

“Y/N, why don’t you try and get some more sleep, I’ll wake you if I need your help,” Ben suggests.

“I don’t know if I can go to sleep after that, but I could use some caffeine,” You reply.

“Just close your eyes, okay?” He asks.

“Fine,” You breathe. You close your eyes and try and regain some semblance of sleep. After some time passes you feel the gentle weight of Ben’s jacket placed over you like a blanket. It smelled like his cologne in combination with his natural scent, which was something that you were really beginning to love as much as you hated to admit it. His scent comforted you and helped you finally get to sleep.

Ben smiled over at you, all snuggled up in his jacket. He wished he could get some more sleep himself but he had to get you to safety first, and that was more then enough to keep you awake. It felt good to have someone to protect, someone that made him smile. He never believed that he would ever find anyone like this; he thought that he’d be a bachelor forever, always on his own. But here you were, sleeping in the chair next to him with his jacket.

He thought of his dream, of that beautiful dress that you wore. He wished it could be true, wished it could be his future. He wanted to be everything to you, your friend, husband, lover, and dare say the father of your children.  He wished to be able to freely hold you in his arms so that he could feel the warmth of you against it and run his fingers through your hair. He wanted all this and more, to kiss you, to have you, and biggest of all to love you.

You finally reach the ground again; it’s the same place that Ben chose before Starkiller base happened. You’re still asleep, so Ben carries you back instead of waking you. Tempted by your peaceful visage, he decides to lay next to you and eventually falls asleep to the steady sound of your breath. In his sleep he wraps around you, subconsciously acting on his desires.

When you wake, you feel much more fully rested. It isn’t long before you realize that Ben’s clinging to you like a python, head buried against your neck. It’s all too much, you can’t delay it anymore, and you need to say something to him.

“Ben,” You say softly. He stirs, stretching out against you.

“Hmm that was a nice nap,” He yawns.

“Ben I need to talk to you about something,”

“Sure, what is it sweetheart?” He asks; eyes filled with hope.

“We can’t-I can’t keep on doing this,”

“What do you mean Y/N?” He questions.  

“I mean that you can’t keep on cuddling with me, friends don’t really do that with each other. Especially ones who haven’t known each other for long,” You point out.

“Friends? I don’t-why not?” He doesn’t understand.

“Look, you don’t want me to be your friend, I know your feelings for me. You want more then I can give you, I’m sorry,” You explain.

“Y/N I don’t, please,” He pleads desperately. He knows what you mean; you’re rejecting him, completely. His dream is crushed, despair washes over him.

“You know I can’t, you know as well as anyone that a Jedi vows to abstain from such relationships, such dangerous passions can lead to the dark side,” You repeat the teachings of your Jedi Master.

“No, you’re wrong. You’re not going to suddenly become a Sith Lord if you kiss me, but I don’t think I can even stand to look at you if you’re unwilling to even let you be my friend,” Ben all but shouts. His eyes shine with tears and suddenly he gets up and leaves the room.

“Ben wait, I don’t want-“ You’re interrupted by the slam of the door. You didn’t think he’d react so negatively, you knew he was attracted to you, like he’d never been rejected in his life.

Ben was absolutely furious, hurt that you found your Jedi principles more important then him. Would you have given him a chance if you weren’t a Jedi? Maybe, though it seemed like you’d never let him find out. He thought that your relationship was more meaningful than that, he had opened up to you more then he had to anyone in a long time. Sure he didn’t think that you’d accept his love for certain, but he didn’t think you’d reject it so cruelly.

What hurt most was that you basically equated all of his feelings to be the cause of turning to the dark side. It didn’t make sense, the galaxy, the force even, wasn’t just light and dark. Light could be so bright that it blinds, it could be warm, colorful or colorless, light is a spectrum and the force was the same.

It was raining outside but Ben didn’t care, he embraced the cooling relief on his hot face. He kept on moving, hoping to get far enough away from you so that you couldn’t find him.

You wanted to go after him, and were about to, when unexpected company arrived. You were caught off guard before you could grab your light saber, cuffed in force preventative restraints before you could do anything. When you craned your neck to see your captor you saw a familiar face, it was fucking Gromon.

“Look what we have here? Little Jedi all tied up, who’s going to protect Ben now?” He sneers at you.

“What are you doing here? What could you possibly gain, the senate’s destroyed!” You yell.

“Exactly, so now I can get my much deserved revenge,” He laughs. You’re disgusted with this man, his shameless corruption and filth. You squirm away as he runs a finger along the underside of your face.

“Pretty thing, no wonder he keeps you around. I bet you’re a good fuck under all those robes,” He mocks.

“Go jump in a Sarlaac Pit,” You spit out. Gromon and his goblins laugh, amused with your answer.

“I don’t think I will, I think instead I’ll go and find Ben and make him watch as I destroy his little Jedi,” He threatens. You don’t give him the satisfaction of crying and make your face impassive, trying to formulate a way to escape instead. His henchmen leave, and you’re left alone with Gromon himself, who continues to mock you with filthy words. Though Gromon has restrained your hands he hasn’t completely restrained your thoughts, and with the best of your ability you try and reach out to Ben.

It feels like a nudge on his mind, he ignores at first, until an unsettling feeling washes over him. Something’s wrong. He turns back, breaking out into a sprint to get back to you faster. If anything happens to you, he’d never forgive himself. All you could do is wait and hope that Ben would come for you, there was nothing you could do here, not with Gromon watching over you like a hawk. It gave you a moment to reflect about your confrontation with Ben earlier, wonder if it could of gone any better. Was it okay to cuddle with someone who was a friend? To pursuit one’s passion as a Jedi? You were uncertain, but you did know that traditional teachings would say no.

But you couldn’t help but think, how much you enjoyed the feeling of resting in Ben’s arms. How your heart beat whenever he called you one of those nicknames (though you wouldn’t give him the power of that knowledge). How his lips would feel against yours, soft and warm.

Doubt sprang in your mind; upon thinking it would be hard to foresee yourself turning to the dark side so easily. Your beliefs were set, and more so you didn’t know if you could necessarily divide the force so easily into the light and dark. The force was much more abstract then that; sure you could train a certain way depending on ancient teachings. But you had more faith in yourself then that to turn to the dark side so easily.

Ben approaches with caution, sensing multiple presences as he gets closer to the house. He doesn’t have a weapon on him, but maybe he can surprise them. He uses the force to grab a blaster from on of the guards and disarms the other one. In their confusion they try and find what could cause something so strange to happen and in their stupor he knocks them out with the stun setting of the blaster.

Before Gromon could lay another filthy finger on you, Ben bursts in and tackles him to the ground, using his blaster to hit him across the face. “Filthy fucking snake, you just couldn’t stay away huh?” He snarls at him.

“Ben, we were just playing, see she’s fine,” He answers nervously.

“You just couldn’t let it go huh, you’re gonna regret it,” He growls, kicking him in the gut.

“Ben uh could you let me go?” You ask.

“Oh yeah, sorry princess.”  He turns to you and quickly unties your binds. “You okay?” He checks in.

“I’m fine, just a bit shaken up,” You reply. “What should we do with him?” You ask.

“I know what I’d like to do, he doesn’t deserve to live,” Ben frowns at him.

“You don’t have the guts,” Gromon taunts. Before he can breathe Ben shoots, making his decision.

“Ben!” You yell, seeing the life quickly drain from the man. “You killed him,” You state.

“If it makes you feel any better, he’s one of the worst people that I’ve had the displeasure of knowing, and he’d never leave us alone,” He justifies.

“I just don’t, you could of done something else, you didn’t have to kill him,”

“You may not understand, but I know that man, he would come back to haunt us. Just trust me,” He tries to persuade you.

“I may not agree with you, but I can’t say I’m not relieved,” You tell the truth.

“Come here,” Ben urges. You oblige, and he pulls you into his arms. You welcome his comfort; you needed it after such a stressful event. “I’m going to go deal with the other guys, yell if you need me or something,” He directs. You nod and he leaves you to yourself.

You decide to wash you face in hands, from the tears and from the remnants of Gromon’s touch. Even though he killed him, with the Galaxy basically entering a state of war, you understood his actions. You weren’t that much of a moral compass. Though you were surprised that Ben would do something so drastic just to protect you, it meant that his feelings for you must be more serious than you thought.

“I’m back, I’ve taken care of it, and no I didn’t kill them or anything.” Ben returns.

“Oh good, Ben we need to continue our conversation from earlier. I feel uncertain about it,” You address.

“Uncertain? Can you clarify that?” He asks.

“I may be having some doubts, about our relationship, even about myself. I know what I said before, but I also know how I feel, and I can’t help be afraid that those feelings will take control of me,” You explain.

“Oh Y/N, don’t be afraid. It’s not wrong for you to feel such things, anger, love, desire…” He cups your face. “It’s only natural,” He leans in so he’s speaking against your lips. “You don’t have to try and be so perfect, I love you the way you are,” He admits.

“Ben,” You gasp at his confession. His lips gently press against yours, sharing their soft warmth. You kiss him back, just as softly, entangling your hands in his hair.

“It feels so good,” He pauses to kiss you, “ “So right,” He continues. “I love you so much I can hardly contain myself,” He breathes, this time kissing you hungrily. He wraps an arm tightly around your waist and deepens the kiss, while a thumb rests below your jaw, fingers curled behind your neck. “Mmm” You sigh against his lips.

“You know I even dreamed about you, that one time you told me to meditate I had the most vivid dream of us getting married,” He admits.

“Wait? When you were meditating, did you feel the force when you were dreaming,” You reply.

“Yeah but I always feel it,” He brushes it off.

“Ben, that was probably a vision. I wouldn’t be surprised you’re very powerful in the force. That actually makes me feel a lot better,” You smile.

“Really? So that means we’re going get married, baby I don’t know things might be moving a little fast,” He teases.

“Oh shut up,” You lightly hit his arm.

“You better get used to it if you’re going to be my wife, princess,” He laughs.

“Just shut up and kiss me why don’t you?” You urge.

“Of course Y/N, anything for my princess,” He obliges. You roll your eyes but smile as he kisses you again, snaking your arms around his neck. You never imagined that this scoundrel of a senator could be so sweet, even if he was a bit of a brat, you loved him all the same.

[planetmaidscleaning]

10 Ways Of Removing Laundry Stains

Most people feel unenthusiastic about doing laundry and it becomes worse if the clothes are stained. It doesn’t get better with kids around since kids and stains seem to go hand in hand. You never see laundry stains coming therefore instead of being all cautious, in the process missing out on something fun, it is better to know the various ways you can get rid of them. There are various stains that are seemingly impossible to remove like ink, red wine, iron scorch marks, rust or sweat stains. If you are frustrated about such stains, worry no more, the stains are not as tough as they seem if tackled the right way. Stains are not only common annoyances but also very uneconomical. If you want to preserve your favorite clothes, it is wise to learn how to work your way through stains.

Tackling stains while still fresh is essential and goes a long way to save you time and achieving stain-free clothes. Prevention being better than cure, you can try wearing an overall or an apron while doing ‘dirty tasks’. With that said, the following are ways you can fight laundry stains effectively:

Avoid The Stain From Setting

This simply means that you act on the stain immediately. If you let it set, the only solution to removing the discoloration will be cutting the cloth off. You can prevent the stain from setting through various ways. You can wipe it off immediately ensuring you use as little pressure as possible. You should also keep away from any source of heat because it accelerates the stain setting on the cloth. Though with some solid stains such as mud, it’s easier to remove when dry. This helps in preventing the stain becoming permanent.

Soak the stain In cold water

After gently dabbing the stain off, you can use water as treatment. Cold water is most advisable because hot water can set protein stains. Water is easily accessible and cheap to almost everyone. Though you should note that when used alone, it is not very effective. When using water, it is more effective to splash the stain off from the back side of the cloth. This helps in pushing out more stains from the fabric.

Apply salt

Salt is applied after you have wet the cloth, which acts as an absorbent on the surface where the stain chemicals will have accumulated. This simple action will help you have an easy time while cleaning your garment. It will also increase the probability of your cloth being spotless after cleaning. It works best with sweat and blood stains.

Don’t use soap

Immediately using soap as you aggressively scrub the stain is the biggest mistake most people make. This action will actually lead to the stain setting on the cloth thus being permanent. Using plain water for stain removal is effective enough since it removes most of the stain before you begin actual cleaning.

Getting The Right Treatment For The Type Of Cloth

Frankly, most solvents can remove multiple stains. Though it is wise to know what suits your type of cloth better. For instance, wool is more heat sensitive than cotton, and as much as you can soak it, bleaches and acidic treatment (that can be used in cotton) will cause permanent distortion. Mild acids such as vinegar and lemon juice are great for coffee, tea and grass stains on most fabrics but can’t be used on wool. Some stains are not going to give way to only one type of treatment and will, therefore, require multiple treatments for better results.

Removing grass stain

You don’t have to cringe at the thought of removing grass stains when your kids are out playing. There are various economical ways to lift grass stains. You can mix undiluted vinegar and baking soda then apply it on the stain. Instead of the vinegar and baking soda paste, you can use toothpaste and apply a coat to the stain. Then finally after some time launder it.

Removing lipstick stain

Don’t let lipstick restrain you or other people from showing love. If you get the stain, you can remove it by use of surgical spirit or hairspray. When using surgical spirit, damp some cotton wool with the spirit then blot the stain away. Then rinse with cold water. When using hairspray, spray the stain then leave it for 20 minutes. Damp a piece of cloth on warm water then use it to wipe away the hairspray. Launder the cloth as usual.

Bloodstain

You’d roll your eyes if you had a cut, then someone tells you to be careful not to stain your cloth. You might even think they are insane. On that account, blood stains are not pleasant but can easily be removed especially when fresh. The easiest way is by wetting the stain with plenty of cold water. Then sprinkle the stain with table salt as you rub the cloth against each other. You can also pour vinegar on the stain and leave it for 10-15 minutes.

Ink Stains

Count yourself lucky if you get a water-based ink stain because it is easy to remove. On the other hand, permanent ink stains can be a nightmare. You can either use rubbing alcohol or nail polish remover. Put the stained part on a piece of white towel or cloth. Then blot the stain with the rubbing alcohol or nail polish remover. Though you should know, the latter is more aggressive than the former and may damage your fabric. It is important to test first

Check before washing and drying

This is essential in preventing the stain from setting. If you dry your cloth thus exposing it to direct heat, this may cause the stain to become permanent. If you wash before checking, you might not give your laundry stains the attention they require.

Having stains on your clothes however cheap or expensive is not a good feeling. Incorporate some of the tips listed above for better results. Remember you don’t have to be too vigorous in rubbing your stain off, hence damaging your fabric. Always wash your fabric gently if you are doing it by hand.

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