#he keeps up his tough image but we all know deep down he is an absolute softie

[krishna-sangini]

I really love this incident from Ramayana. The one where Shri Ram catches the little squirrel doing its best to help build the setu to Lanka. Like, it really justifies how He notices even the tiniest effort we make to go towards Him.

He acknowledges it and takes one step towards us too. And that one step is equal to a hundred...✨

[lassieposting]

I like to think that once things have settled down post-game, Tav will start addressing Astarion's critically low self-everything issues.

Like, this man's obnoxious, vain exterior is a paper-thin sheet of ice over a bottomless lake of insecurities and negative self-talk, and we see that the whole way through the game. He's been taught to believe that his only value is in his body. He'll bitterly call sex the only thing he's good for. He's shocked if you dump another companion for him, because he sees himself as having nothing to offer but baggage. He knows, in an abstract way, that he's attractive, but he doesn't remember what he looks like.

Perhaps one evening he asks what they see in him, and when they ask what he thinks their answer will be, he's stumped by the question.

And Tav decides it's past time to do something about that, because there is so much about him that is worthy of love.

Consider: Astarion rolling out of bed at like noon, padding naked to the bathroom to wash and style his hair, and catching sight of something tucked into the frame of the mirror. It's a sketch of him, one of Tav's, and beside it, they've scrawled the words you're beautiful. He grins, and traces the charcoal strokes with a fingertip while he brushes his teeth, because that's not a difficult one to believe, and he's touched.

But then he starts finding more little sketches, and more little notes. When he reaches for the book he's been reading, there's one tucked into the page he's dog-eared - a little caricature of himself, curled up in an armchair reading a giant book, captioned you're clever. He snorts a laugh, a little self-deprecating. Loathe as he is to admit it, he's no Gale, and he has brain fog more often than not. But...well, he did graduate law school and pass the bar once upon a time, so technically they're not wrong.

You're brave is resting on his pillow when he comes back from splashing his face in the bathroom one night, still trembling from a nightmare. His eyes well up when he spots it, and when he crawls into open arms and buries his face in Tav's clavicle he mumbles that he doesn't feel very brave at all. That's a hard one to accept, but they will keep telling him.

You care about me... is simply sitting on a dresser one day. Two little drawings with that one; in the first, he's bandaging a cartoonish bump on Tav's head. On the back, though...he recognises that image, Tav tied up and spitting rage at him through the night, lost to their Urges, as he kept watch. In smaller letters, his own words are reflected back at him: ...even when that's an objectively stupid thing to do.

You never gave up is in the medical kit kept under the bed, the one stocked with salves and oils for the bone-deep ache of two hundred years of consistent injuries. Tav will rub his shoulders for him if he asks, he knows that. But, well, two centuries of hiding any sign of weakness makes for a tough habit to break. He touches the reminder gently, as though it's fragile, and after a moment's hesitation, calls them in for help.

And on and on they go, dozens of little notes, a tangible list of things they love about him. Repeated, sometimes, some more than others, as and when he needs to be reminded of them. Often accompanied by little drawings that make him laugh or snort or cry - snapshots at how Tav sees him. His ridiculous bedhead. His unflattering blood-drunk expression, gawking into the middle distance, utterly lost in the sauce. The way his ears will sometimes twitch in his sleep. The Sexy Side-Lean pose he didn't realise he tends to do in doorways. His dramatic readings of appalling erotica.

And gradually, he begins to believe them.

[jungwondazed]

18+ only / emotion heavy sex w heeseung

i think there’s a loneliness hidden deep inside heeseung that is sort of masked with his flirty and bold interactions with fans. he’s charismatic, no question but i like to think there’s some of us who can kind of see through that.

i believe he longs for a love so deep it could heal the innermost parts of him, the parts of his childhood that he couldn’t live out regularly due to the stress of trying to debut. growing up in the spotlight under strict scrutiny and never having the chance to be like any other young adult, leads me to believe that heeseung craves a genuine relationship.

he’s gentle with you, patient. he plays his role of a man well. protective, caring, and nurturing you in the times that you need. when you come to him about personal problems he nods with every sentence you express, he tilts his head at your hurt, and wraps his hand around your fingers, reminding you of his presence. heeseung is anything but abrasive and abrupt, he is the wind blowing through a field that follows you every way.

he loves so hard that it hurts. there is no getting mad at him, he’s never wronged you of any sort. he’s sensitive, more than most guys are. as tough and head strong as he is, when he welcomes someone like you into his life that turns him into a vulnerable man there are softs spots that you must tip toe around because loving him is learning the parts of him that needs healing.

with his emotions set in place, it translates over to how he takes physical affection, and he is a fool for it. heeseung would never casually sleep with anyone, his values and life experiences has shaped him into a guy that can only get off if it’s with someone he desperately loves.

“is this okay?” he asks every single time like this isn’t anything you aren’t used to. you nod, and he continues, his breath staggering when you grind down and he pushes up.

heeseung doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to this overwhelming feeling of love and warmth through genuine and meaningful sex. the way your skin presses on him, the outline of your body in the dark when you ride him, how pretty your face is so up close he could kiss every inch of it. there were days when he was so alone that even if a thousand people showed up at his door the isolation swallowed him whole. with your one body on his, he thanks all his lucky stars that he was patient enough to await for someone like you. the nerves on the pads of his fingers are stimulated by your breasts, how he loves feeling them knowing you gave all yourself to him. his grip on your waist as you fuck yourself is tight, not wanting to ever let you go.

heeseung stares at you like the world gives him a few seconds of more time, his gaze lingering down your face and body like there is no tomorrow. he soaks in the image as if there aren’t plenty of more chances to make love, yet he treats you with speciality each time.

“ah”s and “oh”s fall from his lips, some stuck in his throat when you stroke him with your walls. he feels your love in every way like this, never closing his eyes despite how good it truly feels.

“i love you, ____” he’s the first to say those three words each time, and you kiss them right from his mouth, giving it to him like he needs it.

he fucks like both of your lives depend on this one moment, thrusting up into you when you’re too tired to keep going, showing you how love is supposed to be. that we bear the weight when the other can’t, that there is a pleasure is doing the labor for our partner.

“feels too good hee,” your grip on his shoulder almost hurts but that thought vanishes in seconds when he hits it right where you love it. he keeps his pace at that same spot, listening as you tell him over and over again how good he makes you feel, how you love him so much, drinking your words up.

he presses you tight against his chest when you’re both close, trembling as each passing stroke inches you towards your high. there are moments in life heeseung looks back on that makes him think every hardship he has encountered was worth it. some of them being his first call back, first congratulations from his family, and a performance here and there. but the majority of those moments are all linked to you. memories of how you look when you cum on him flashes through his mind, because there is no closer bond in love than through feeling a moment so intense together: with you struggling to take it, spitting out i love you’s and every word of affirmation there is, he’s delighted that all the sacrifices and tears that he gave, rewarded himself with you. he cums in you deep, almost whining by the time it spills into you. he loves you so much, the feeling of his orgasm and his never ending affection for you is euphoric, you experience it in every part of you. he is raw and tender, making you feel like it was the first time after each one ended.

“i love you so much, ___, i love you, just so you kn-“ and you’re all over him again, not once letting him slip out of you.

[chanswifey]

Seventeen as your boyfriend | Woozi

The cool boyfriend

Like he tries so hard to keep his 'tough-guy-scary-producer-genius' image on the outside

But when he's with you he is the softest boy

I've said this before and I will say it again, this man is very much clingy

Don't get fooled by the disgusted face when presented with pda, that's all an act, baby

And most importantly it's about intimacy

For him, it's just something very special and personal that he likes to keep private

He loves to be hugged and kissed and spoiled. Sometimes he doesn't know how to initiate it but when you see him following you around like a lost puppy or when he comes and gently places his hand on your lower back, that can only mean one thing

He would DIE if the members caught these moments tho, that would begin the endless teasing

But at home or when it's just the two of you in his studio...

He often waits for you to get there when he's working late nights so you two can nap together

And no, he is NOT the big spoon here

He is the one laying on top of you, the one that needs to be hugged to fall asleep

He loves when you play with his hair and when you give him forehead kisses

He is also SUCH a tease

He likes to make you mad just for shits and giggles

Like, he will avoid a hug or wipe a kiss just to mess with you

Regrets it and apologizes really fast when you threaten to leave or give him the silent treatment

His idea of dates is just getting take out and eating on the couch in your pajamas

If you really want him to go out you have to actually tell him

It's not that he doesn't care or doesn't want to make an effort, he's just a bit clueless on this kind of social cues so he needs you to lead the way

He will happily agree to do whatever you want, it is a very rare occasion for him to ask to do something else or nothing at all

And it's usually because he either got caught up on something at work or is just really, really tired

He will make sure to make it up to you later, like getting you breakfast in bed or buying you something you said you wanted

SPOILS YOU SO MUCH!!!

We know he doesn't really care about money but he loves that he can spend it on you

All dates, gifts, traveling tickets, bills, that's all on him

It's like being married-but-not-married

He literally handed you his card one day and refuses to get it back

He can get a bit reclusive sometimes, he's very hard on himself when it comes to his work

So you have to take care of him just as much as he takes care of you

If you don't step up and do something he will refuse to eat or rest for hours

It's a common occurrence for you to order his meals and get them delivered to his studio, or just show up to clean around a bit and drag him out of the computer

"You need to rest your eyes, do you wanna go blind?" You complain to him daily.

"What am I? Your child?" He says teasingly.

"Shut up and come cuddle me, grumpy"

*he then proceeds to fall asleep within 5 seconds*

He's a HUGE show-off

He WILL try to turn you into a gym rat just like him

He will say it's because it's good for your health but deep down he just loves to show off to you

And if you can't make it to the gym he will make sure to send you a gazillion pictures of him flexing because he knows it will turn you into a blushing mess

I do believe he writes songs for you, but he would rarely release those, they are too personal and dear to him

He does it for you, and you only. He knows he's not the best with spoken words so he adds a melody

He will also gift them to you randomly, whenever he needs to say something. It's like saying 'I love you' is not enough and can't contain what he really feels

But in all honesty, as much as you adore and cherish all the songs he has given you, you can feel his love even when he's silent

It's in the way he looks at you, with stars in his eyes. The way his voice softens when he talks to you.

The way he touches you, so gently and carefully as if you're gonna break. The way he hugs you after a stressful day and you can feel the tension leave his body as he exhales.

It's in the way he listens to you, so attentive and interested like every word that comes out of your mouth is poetry and it's in how much he trusts you to share his deepest thoughts and struggles and his weirdest interests

And finally, it's in the way he makes you feel safe, secure, and taken care of.

×××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××

2023 © chanswifey — do not repost or translate

author's note: can u tell I'm biased?? Cause I am, I love this man with all my heart it's ridiculous!!! I could talk about him all day and never get bored 🥺🥺🥺 please like and reblog if you like it 💗

mlist | request here | what I write

[dianawinchester03]

Season 1, Episode 22 - Devils Trap

Series Masterlist

Y/N’s POV

My heart dropped when I saw the fearful expression on Deans face. My mind running to the worst that could possibly happen. Dean hung up the phone, a stoic look on his face. "They've got dad" He tells us, panic taking us all over. "Meg?" Sam asks stunned, anger building in him. "What'd she say?" I ask, taking a deep breath as I try to calm myself down.

"I just told you guys" Dean says firmly, his face growing red with panic. "Okay.....okay" He takes a deep breath, running a hand over his face. Dean then goes over to the nightstand, picking up the Colt. He then shoves it in the back of his pants. "What are you doing, Dean?" Sam asks him confused as Dean picks up his bag. "We gotta go" Dean says urgently, packing up all our stuff.

"Why?" I further question as Dean throws on his jacket, "Because the demon knows we're in Salvation. Alright? It knows we've got the Colt. It's got Dad and it's probably coming for us next" Dean says, trying to control his breathing. "Good. We've still got three bullets left. Let it come!" Sam says. "Listen, tough guy, we're not ready!" Dean snaps at his brother.

"Okay?! We don't know how many of them are out there. Now, we're no good to anybody dead!" He further exclaims, buttoning up his shirt. I sigh, nodding in agreement. He takes my jacket and hands it to me, I quickly take it and throw it on. "We're leaving. Now!" Dean bellows, his tone filled with authority.

Third Person POV

The Impala and Harley rush down the stretch. Y/N has her headphones jacked in her ears, on a call with the boys who're in the car as they drive. "I'm telling you guys, we could've taken them" Sam says a bit irritated. "What we need is a plan." Dean responds firmly. "Now they're probably keeping John alive. We just gotta figure out where. They'll wanna trade him for the gun" Y/N blurs from over the speaker phone.

Sam shakes his head, huffing. "What?" Dean groans at Sam's expressions. "Guys, if that were true...why didn't Meg mention a trade?" Sam points out, his mind swirling with images at his possibly dead father. Dean couldn't think of an answer, "Dad...he might be-" Sam goes to state the obvious but Dean and Y/N cut him off. "Don't!" They growl in unison.

"Look, I don't wanna believe it anymore than either of you...but if he is, all the more reason to kill this damn thing. We still have the Colt. We can still finish the job." Sam states firmly. "Screw the job, Sam!" Dean snaps angrily. "Dean, I'm just trying to do what he'd want. He would want us to keep going!" Sam argues.

"Jesus, would you quit talking about him like he's dead already, Sam!?" Y/N pipes up irritated from over the phone. "Thank you!" Dean yells in agreement. "Listen to me, everything stops until we get him back. Do you understand me? Everything!" Dean orders in a tone of authority. Sam just sighs, bowing his head. He nods sadly, "So how do we find him?" Sam asks softly.

"Maybe we go to Lincoln. Start at the warehouse where he was taken" Dean suggests. "Come on, Dean. You really think these demons are gonna leave a trail?" Sam scoffs. It dawns on him, "You're right. We need help" Dean agrees. Sam is surprised but goes with it.

________________________________

Sioux Falls, South Dakota

The Impala and Harley drive into the familiar yard, a broken sign overhead stating, 'Singer Auto Self Service'.

Bobby takes up two flasks, "Here you go" He hands Dean one. Dean takes it and examines it, "What is this, holy water?" He asks Bobby, "That one is. This is whiskey" Bobby smirks, taking a sip from his flask. Dean cocks his eyebrow in amusement. "You still got a liver, Bobby?" Y/N jokes. "Partially, still waiting on my transplant" He retorts jokingly, handing it to her.

She takes it smiling, taking a swig from it. "Bobby, thanks. Thanks for everything" Y/N says gratefully. Looking over at Sam, who's by Bobby's desk doing research, "To tell you the truth, we weren't sure if we should come" Dean says honestly sighing. "Nonsense, your daddy needs help" Bobby reassures him. "Yeah, but last time we saw you. I mean, you did threaten to blast him full of buckshot." Y/N points out.

"Cocked the shotgun and everything" Dean snorts as Y/N shakes her head smiling at the memory. Bobby sighs, "Yeah, well, what can I say? John and F/N got that effect on people" Bobby says. "Yeah, I guess they do" Y/N sighs her heart panging at the mention of her father. Bobby looks over at her sympathetically. "None of that matters now, sweetheart." Resting a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm so sorry about your father, y/n/n" Bobby says sincerely. Tears well up in her eyes again but she fights it off. Giving him a tearful smile, "Yeah. Me too." She sighs. Bobby gives her a small smile, then taking his hand off her shoulder. "All that matters now is that you boys get your father back." Bobby says firmly.

"So did you really shatter does car windows with your mind, kid?" Bobby asks her curiously, cocking his eyebrow. Dean looks over at her concerned but she shrugs. "I think so. All I know is, when I saw-" She begins but stops, her heart begins to pain. She clear her throat. Dean and Bobby's faces gloss over with sympathy at this, "Its okay, you don't gotta-" Dean goes to assure her but she cuts him off.

"It's fine, we gotta talk about it at some point" She says firmly. Dean nods and she turns back to Bobby. "When I saw wh-...what happened, I felt a power literally surge through me. I imagined Kate being away from Dad. I can't put it into words, but next thing I knew. She was flying through the air into a car. And after....after dad was gone. I wanted to punch everything in sight and it happened again" She explains sadly. Looking down, she tries to not allow the tears to flow.

Dean and Bobby share a look of pity at this, "Maybe it's gotta do with your mom. F/N always said your momma was a powerful woman, she could do those things and more" Bobby suggests gently. "I don't know" Y/N sighs, looking down. She chuckles dryly, "It's funny. He always wished I was like mom, he even admitted to hating the fact that I was so much like him." She huffs, shaking her head.

"But then him dying is what somehow brought out whatever powers mom gave me. It's a fucked up circle" She looks down, sniffling back tears. "Your father didn't hate you, Princess" Dean assures her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. "I know" She sighs. "We'll figure it out kiddo, I promise." Bobby assures her with a small smile, patting her on her shoulder. She nods, offering feigning a small smile.

"Bobby, this book...I've never seen anything like it" Sam says amazed. Bobby walks over, taking a seat on the table. "Key of Solomon? It's the real deal alright" Bobby responds. "And these—uh. These protective circles, they really work?" Sam asks him, pointing to the printing of a protective circle symbol in the book. Y/N peers over the table to take a look at the book. "Hell, yeah. You get a demon in one, they're trapped. Powerless. It's like a satanic roach motel" Bobby explains, making Sam and Y/N chuckle at the simile.

"Man knows his stuff" Dean says proudly, walking over to them. "I'll tell you something else too. This is some serious crap you kids stepped in" Bobby states. "Oh yeah? How's that?" Y/N asks curiously, crossing her arms over her chest. "Normal year. I hear of...say, three demonic possessions. Maybe four, tops" He ballparks. "Yeah?" Dean urges him to further explain.

"This year. I heard of 27 so far." Their eyebrows raise at the skyrocketing number. "You get what I'm saying? More and more demons are walking among us. A lot more" Bobby points out lowly. "Do you know why?" Sam asks. "No, but I know it's something big. Storms coming" Bobby shakes his head. "And you kids and your daddies...you are smack in the middle of it" He finishes. The three young hunters share a look of terror.

Y/N began to feel that heat rising in her body, now creeping up to the back of her neck. Her breath hitches as the pain grows. Suddenly, Bobby's dog begins barking loudly out of nowhere. "Rumsfeld" Bobby mutters in concern, getting up from the table quickly to go check by the window. "Ow!" Y/N yelps in pain, clutching her neck. Sam jumps up from his chair at this.

"You okay, Princess?" Dean asks her concerned, placing a hand on her lower back. Bobby opens the peepers to see Rumsfeld chain was broken, "What is it?" Sam asks Bobby. "Something's wrong" Bobby says urgently. That's when his door was kicked in, broken down by Meg. She strolls in, a angry look on her face as the four hunters look at her in shock. Dean clutching his flask of holy water.

"No more crap, okay?" Meg says angrily, Dean narrows his eyes at her. Undoing the cork on the flask to throw the water at her but she waves her hand in the air. Sending Dean flying into a stack of books, "You bitch!" Y/N growls as she and Sam shield Bobby, keeping him behind them protectively. "I want the Colt, Sam. The real colt. Right now" Meg orders in a low tone, moving slowly towards them.

"We don't have it on us. We buried it" Sam lies quickly, both him and Y/N shielding Bobby closely, moving back as Meg moves closer. "Didn't I say. No more crap?" Meg says irritated. "I swear, after everything I heard about you Winchesters and L/Ns. I gotta tell you, I'm a little underwhelmed" She chuckles ironically, still moving closer as they move backwards.

"First Johnny tired to pawn off a fake gun and then he leaves the real gun with you three chuckleheads" She mocks them. "Lackluster, man" She scoffs. "I mean, did you really think I wouldn't find you?" She smirks cockily. Dean then emerges from the behind her. "Actually, we were counting on it" He says smugly.

Meg turns around, cocking her eyebrow. Dean then looks up to the ceiling, Megs eyes follow his gaze to see a Devils Trap engraved into the ceiling. Megs cocky grin drops, "Gotcha bitch" Y/N snaps back, a smirk on her face. They then got a chair and bounded Meg to it, tying her hands and her feet. Sam, Dean and Y/N sat across from her on the table, outside of the trap.

"You know, if you wanted to tie me up, all you had to do was ask" Meg says in a coy tone. They glare at her, not responding. Bobby emerges from the living room with a canister of salt in his hands. "I salted the doors and windows. If there are any demons out there, they ain't getting" He informs them. Dean nods, getting up to stand infront of Meg.

"Where's our father, Meg?" He asks her firmly. "You didn't ask very nice" She smirks. "Where's our father, bitch" Dean smirks back. "Jeez, you kiss your mother with that mouth?" She retorts in a snide tone, feigning a fake gasp. "Oh I forgot, you don't" She smirks. Deans nostrils flare at this, "Hey, you think this is a fucking game?! Where is he?! What did you do to him?!" He shouts fueled with rage, getting in her face, pressing his hands on the chair handles.

"He died screaming. I killed him myself" She says proudly. A dark look on her face. Tears well up in Sam and Y/N's eyes at this, pure fury in Deans. He backhands her harshly at the side of her face. Her head snapping to the side, She gasps, looking up at him with a smile. "That's kind of a turn on, you hitting a girl" She smirks. "You're no girl" Dean grits his teeth at her but she just smiles widely.

Bobby's realizes something and gets up, "Dean" He calls out to him, ushering the three young hunters into the living room. Dean gives her one last glare before going into the living room. "You okay?" Y/N asks him concerned. "She's lying. He's not dead" Dean says firmly. Y/N sighs, understanding how this could all he stressful for the boys. "Dean, you gotta be careful with her. Don't hurt her" Bobby warns him.

They look at him confused. "Why?" He asks Bobby. "Because she really is a girl, that's why" Bobby says. "What're you talking about?" Sam asks confused. "She's possessed. That's a human possessed by a demon. Can't you tell?" Bobby states lowly as if it's obvious. They look back at Meg stunned. A dark smirk on her face. "You're trying to tell us there's an innocent girl trapped somewhere in there?" Y/N asks, pointing to Meg.

Bobby nods as Dean looks back at Meg, "That's actually good news" He breaths out relieved. Bobby then gave Sam a book with a exorcism incantation. The three younger hunters step closer to Meg, Sam with the book in his hands. "You gonna read me a story?" Meg says smugly. Dean glares at her with hatred along with Y/N. "Something like that. Hit it, Sam" Dean orders Sam, a smug smile on his face.

Sam then begins to recite the incantation in Latin. Meg huffs, "An exorcism? Are you serious?" She shakes her head cockily. "We're going for it, baby. Head spinning, projectile vomiting. The whole nine yards" Y/N retorts in a snide tone, referencing the movie. Meg then grunts in pain, shaking slightly. Sam stops the recital as she breathes heavily, looking over at Dean and Y/N.

"I'm gonna kill you" Meg grits her teeth at Sam. Then turning back to Dean and Y/N. "I'm gonna rip the bones from you body" She threatens menacingly. "No, you're gonna burn in hell. Unless you tell us where are dad it" Dean shakes with anger, but Meg smirks. "Well, at least you'll get a nice tan" He snaps back, looking back up at Sam. Indicating for him to continue. Sam then begins to recite the incantation again, Meg shaking with pain.

Huffing and grunting, "He begged for his life with tears in his eyes" She taunts the boys, grunting in pain. "He begged to see his sons and y/n one last time. That's when I slit his throat" Meg continues to taunt them, gritting her teeth in pain. They all look at each other nervously. Flames of fury in Deans eyes and he leans down towards Megs face, "For your sake, I hope you're lying. Because is it's true, I swear to God. I will March into hell and slaughter every single one of you. So help me god" Dean growls at her, shaking with anger.

And by the sounds of it. That was a promise he was gonna keep. She just smirks at them as Sam continues to chant the incantation. Wind builds in the room, pages from open books flipping on their own. Meg grips onto the chair, shaking and grunting. "Where is he?" Y/N asks her angrily, getting down to her level.

"You just won't take dead for an answer, can't you?" Meg grunts painfully. "Where is he?!" Dean yells. "Dead!" Meg yells back. "No he's not!! He's not dead, he can't be!!" Dean screams back, tears building up in his eyes. Sam looks on at the interaction, looking at his brother and y/n in concern. "What're you looking at? Keep reading" Y/N snaps at him.

Sam shakily starts reciting the incantation again. Meg shakes again in pain, the chair begins to move around on its own in the circle as she screams. "He will be!!" Meg yells. This catches their attention. "Wait! What?!" Dean puts his hand out, stopping Sam from reciting the exorcism. "He's not dead" Meg breathes heavily. "But he will be after what we do to him" She snaps back snidely.

"And how do we know you're telling the truth?" Y/N asks. "You don't" Meg smirks. "Sam!" Dean and Y/N yell, indicating for Sam to continue. "A building, okay?! A building in Jefferson City" Meg blurts out. "Missouri?! Where?! Give me an address!" Dean demands. "I don't know!" Meg cries. "And the demon. The one we're looking for. Where is it?" Sam asks. "I don't know, I swear!" Meg pleads.

"That's everything. That's all I know" She breathes heavily. Dean and Y/N clench their jaws angrily as they look at her. "Finish it" Dean orders Sam firmly. Him and Y/N pacing menacingly around Megs chair. "What? I told you the truth!" Meg yells betrayed. "I don't care!" Dean shouts back. "You bitch, you promised" She narrows her eyes at Y/N. "I lied!" Y/N shouts in her face, leaning down. A look of hatred being exchanged between the two.

"Sam" Y/N looks back up at Sam. Sam hesitates. He doesn't move or say anything, "Sam!" Dean nudges his brother. "Read" He orders. "Maybe we could still use her. Find out where the demon is" Sam suggests. "She doesn't know" Dean says. "She lied!" Sam argues. "Sam, there's an innocent girl trapped somewhere in there and we've gotta help her" Y/N argues back.

Bobby emerges from behind them. "You're gonna kill her" Bobby tells them. "What?" Dean and Y/N ask in confusion. "You said she fell from a building." Bobby points out, looking back at Meg with pity. "That girls body is broken. The only thing keeping her alive is that demon inside" He tells them lowly. "You exorcise it, the girl is gonna die" Bobby explains.

"Listen to me, both of you. We are not gonna leave her like that!" Dean insists. "She is a human being" Bobby defends. "And we're gonna out her out of her misery" Y/N retorts. Bobby's face drops, Dean then turns to his brother. "Sam, finish it" He orders Sam. Sam looks over at Bobby and then back to Meg, who's still in pain.

He then looks back to his brother and y/n. "Please. Finish it, Sam" Y/N pleads. Sam sighs, looking back down at the book. He begins chanting in Latin again. Meg begins to shake, her eyes turning black as she groans. When Sam finishes the recital, Meg screams, throwing her head upwards, a large black cloud of smoke escaping from her mouth as she screams.

They look on in horror as this happens, her head falling back down when it's over. Blood then begins to leak out of her nose, dripping into the ground. She raises her head slowly as she bleeds from her mouth. Groaning in pain, "She still alive" Y/N gasps. Bobby runs out of the room. "Call 911. Get some waters and blankets" Dean tells him. Y/N leans down and begins to untie her hands gently.

Along with Sam and Dean. "Thank you" Meg says gratefully, straining herself to speak. "Shh. Shhh. Just take it easy, alright hun" Y/N says gently. "Come on, let's get her down" Y/N says to Dean. On three, the two lift Meg up gently. Meg crying and grunting in pain. When she touches Meg, something surges through her body. It's almost as if she could feel the pain Meg was feeling, but not physically, she could feel it in her soul. Tears begin to well at her eyes when this happens.

They rest her gently on the ground, Y/N lays her head on her lap. "I gotcha. I gotcha. It's okay. It's okay.." Y/N says gently as Meg gasps, more blood dripping through her nose and mouth. "A year" Meg says weakly. "What?" Sam asks gently. "It's been a year" Meg responds again, her voice straining. "Shhh, shhh" Y/N shushes her gently, pushing Meg's hair away from her face. "Take it easy" Sam gives her a gentle smile.

"I've been awake for some of it" Meg says weakly, taking a deep breath. When she says this, a thought crosses Deans mind. "I couldn't move my own body" She admits, the three hunters look at each other in terror. "And things looked- It- it's a nightmare" She groans. "Was it telling us the truth about our dad?" Dean asks her. Sam and Y/N look at Dean in disbelief.

"Dean" Y/N says in a warning tone. "We need to know" Dean defends. "Yes." Meg croaks weakly. "But it wants you to know....they want you to come for him" Meg tells him. Dean nods slightly, relief washing through his body. "If Dad's still alive, none of that matters" He responds. Bobby comes walking back into the room with water and some blankets.

He hands Dean the water, they slowly raise Meg up a bit, holding the glass to give her a sip. She chokes slightly, coughing. "Where is the demon we're looking for?" Sam asks Meg. "Not there. Other ones. Awful ones" She responds, breathing heavily. "Where are they keeping John?" Y/N asks her. "B-by the riv- River" Meg stutters, blood spluttering out of her mouth. "S-sunrise" She stutters again. "Sunrise? What does that mean?" Dean asks her.

But she doesn't answer, Y/N's feels her pulse. Her heart dropping, "What does that mean?" Dean asks her again, more urgently this time. "Dean..." Y/N whispers, looking back up at Dean. "She's gone" She tells him, Deans face dropping as they hold the dead girl in their hands.

Still at Bobbys house, "You better hurry to and beat it before the paramedics get here" Bobby tells them. "What're you gonna tell them?" Y/N asks him concerned. "You think you guys invented lying to the cops? I'll figure something out" Bobby scoffs sarcastically. "Here, take this" He hands Sam the Key of Solomon book. "Thanks" Sam says gratefully, taking the book.

"Thanks for everything" Dean thanks Bobby gratefully. "Be care, alright?" Y/N pats Bobby on his shoulder. "You kids just go find John. And when you do, you bring him around, would you?" He tells them genuinely. "I won't even try to shoot him this time" He chuckles, they crack a small smile before nodding.

They make their way to the door, opening it to make their way out. Dean turns back and gives Bobby one last grateful look before locking the door behind him.

________________________________

The Impala and Harley are parked by some train tracks. Dean and Y/N by the truck, cocking up weapons as Sam is leaning over the roof of the car, reading the book Bobby gave him. "You two been quiet" Sam points out, breaking the silence. Y/N and Dean look up at him, "Just getting ready" Dean responds dryly.

"He's gonna be fine, guys" Sam assures them but they don't answer. "He will be" Y/N says softly to Dean. He looks down at Y/N with a stoic expression, his face softening when he sees the genuine gentle smile on her face. "Let's hope so" Dean sighs, shaking his head. Sam sighs, turning a page in the book. He finds a symbol that could help them, taking out a pen he wipes the dust off of the Impala trunk lid and begins drawing.

Deans gaze snaps over to him, "Dude, what are you drawing on my car?" Dean asks him irritated. "It's called a devil's trap. Demons can't get through it or inside it." Sam responds calmly. "So?" Dean scoffs as Sam goes over to the other side of the trunk to draw one. "Basically turns the trunk into a lockbox." Sam responds again.

Dean wipes the symbol a bit, looking up at Sam annoyed. "So?" He scoffs again, irritated. "So we have a place to hide the Colt while we go get Dad" Sam states as if it's obvious. "What're you talking about? We're bringing the Colt with us" Dean says. "Can't. Dean. We only got three bullets left. We can't just use them on any demons. We gotta use them on the demon" Sam points out.

Dean looks like he's about to punch something. "No, we have to save your dad, Sam" Y/N pipes in. "We gonna need all the help we can't get" Dean spits angrily going over to Sam. Y/N notices the look on Deans face and puts her body between the two, just incase Dean tries to get aggressive. Sam sighs, closing the book. "Guys, you know how pissed Dad would be if we used all the bullets? He wouldn't want us to bring the gun" Sam puts it plainly.

"I don't care, Sam! I don't care what Dad wants! Since when do you care what Dad wants?!" Dean yells angrily. Y/N jumps slightly as his raise of voice, looking between the two boys nervously. "We wanna kill this demon! You used to want that too!" Sam retorts loudly, gesturing between him and Y/N. "Hell, I mean you're the one who came and got me at school!" Sam further argues, this makes Dean chuckle dryly as he continues.

"You're the one who dragged me back into this, Dean! I'm just trying to finish it!" Sam yells getting closer to Dean. "You're a selfish bastard you know that!?" Dean bellows getting closer to Sam, Y/N's had enough at this point. "Okay! That's enough!" Y/N snaps, placing her hands on their chests, she pushes them apart roughly. The two men's gazes snap down at her surprised.

"You're brothers, man! Your father is missing. So instead of turning on each other, keep your heads in the damn game and let's go find John and kill that son of a bitch demon who ruined our lives, god dammit!" She lectures angrily, her voice cracking. They both sigh, their heads dropped in shame. Both nodding. "She's right" Sam sighs. Y/N turns to Dean, "Sam's also right, they're expecting up to bring this gun. They get the gun, they will kill us all" Y/N explains.

"That Colt is our only leverage and you know it, Dean. We cannot bring that gun. We can't." Sam further stresses. "Fine" Dean says plainly. "We're serious, Dean!" Y/N snaps seriously. "I said fine, Y/N!" He snaps back. Taking the gun out from his jacket, he takes it and rests it inside the trunk. Sam goes over and locks the trunk, not before mouthing a quiet "Thank you" to Y/N. She nods back, mouthing "You're welcome" to him as they hop in the Impala and Y/N hops on the Harley.

________________________________

They walk along side the river bank, Dean has his bag sling against his shoulder as they walk. Dean notices something and stops Sam and Y/N, "Hey, hey. I think I know what Meg meant by 'sunrise' ". He tells them, nodding to the buildings across the road. A sign in-front with some kids and adults playing in the yard, 'Sunrise Apartments'.

"Jesus. That's pretty smart" Y/N mutters kinda impressed. "I mean, if these demons can possess people, they can possess almost anyone inside" She points out. The boys nod in agreement, "Yeah, and make anybody attack us" Sam adds sighing in defeat. "Yeah, so we can't kill them. A building full of human shields." Dean says. "They probably know exactly what we look like too. They could look like anybody" Sam says.

"Man, this sucks out loud" Y/N groans. "Yeah, tell me about it" Sam sighs. "Alright, so how the hell are we gonna get in?" Sam asks, an idea flashes across Deans mine. "Pull the fire alarm. Get out all the civilians" He suggests. "Okay, but then the city responds in what, seven minutes?" Y/N points out. "Seven minutes exactly" Dean confirms. "It's the best we got" Sam says shrugging.

The three share a look, discuss a foolproof plan and Sam crosses the street.

Sam opens the gate leading to the building, making sure there's no one around. He inches to the fire alarm but moves quickly when he sees someone coming. He walks up, waiting for the person to leave and then walks back, quickly pulling the fire alarm. The bell rings throughout the entire building,

Approximately seven minutes after, the apartment is swarming with firefighters. People rushing out of the building. Dean and Y/N approach a firefighter, pretending to be concerned civilians. "Hey, what—? What's happening? Is it a fire?" Y/N feigns a panicked tone whilst talking to the firefighter. "We're figuring that out now, ma'am. You and your boyfriend just stay back" The firefighter says calmly, ushering them out of the way.

"Well, we've got a Yorkie upstairs. And he pees when he's nervous" Dean tries to explain, lying in a panicked tone as the firefighter ushers them back. "Sir, ma'am. You have to stay back" The firefighter says calmly, ushering them away from the truck while Sam, who's behind them, sneaks behind the fire truck. He makes sure no one's around and begins picking the lock.

Sam, Dean and Y/N are upstairs now. Dressed in firefighter gear. Their helmets and masks over their heads to conceal their identity. Dean scans each apartment door with the EMF as they walk through the halls. "I always wanted to be a fireman when I grew up" Dean admits as he scans door. "You never told me that" Sam says shocked.

"I knew. He only told me because I told him I wanted to be a musici- Ughh!" Y/N begins to say but she whimpers in pain when the burning feeling in her body returns when they approach apartment 33. The boys look over at her in concern, "What wrong, princess?" Dean asks her gently. Placing a hand on her lower back. "It's definitely in there" She says gritting her teeth in pain.

The EMF meter then starts going off red like crazy at the same time. They all look at each other in concern. Dean then knocks the door harshly, "This is the fire department. We need you to evacuate the premises!" He shouts loudly through the door. They give each other a nod when they hear the lock from the door being undone.

Y/N kicks it in harshly as soon as it's opened, a woman screams when she's knocked off her feet. They instantly begin to spray her and the man inside of the room with the holy water they had in their spray guns they stole from the truck. Both the woman and man screaming in pain from the water. Dean grabs the woman who's tossing trying to fight Dean off but screaming from the holy water.

As Sam punches the man. Incapacitating him, Y/N opens the closet door and Sam tosses the man in. Knocking over a clothes rack. She locks it back so he can't escape, "DEAN!" She yells for him to toss the woman in also. She opens the door quickly and Dean tosses the woman in. Him and Y/N bar the door with their bodies as Sam rushes over to his duffle he tossed on the floor.

"Hurry up!! Hurry up!!" They yell for Sam to do quickly as the two demons bang relentlessly at the door. Sam pulls out the salt, he the. runs to them and makes a half salt circle around them in-front of the door. The banging then stops, they all pant for breath as they pull off their helmets, stripping off their gear.

Sam picks up his duffle after they strip their gear off, "Come on" Y/N says quickly, creeping over softly to the room. They follow behind and open the door slowly to see John Winchester sprawled across a bed, unconscious, looking beaten to hell. Tied to the frame. "Dad" Dean says quietly, his heart hurting from the sight.

They rush over to John as Sam looks on. Y/N puts her ear to John's nose to check on his breathing and checks him pulse. The burning feeling returns when she does this but she assumes it's from the demons from earlier. Dean and Sam look at her fearfully but she nods. "He's still breathing. But his pulse is weak" She informs them.

"Dad, wake up!" Dean shakes his father's body. "Dad!" He yells. Dean takes out his knife boots quickly to cut off the ties but a thought runs across Y/N and Sam's minds and they stop him. "Wait. Wait!" They say urgently. "What?!" They ask them confused. "He could possessed for all we know" Sam says. "Are you two nuts?!" Dean stresses, Y/N stops him. "Dean" She says gently. "We gotta be sure" She adds.

"Are you getting that pain you get when demons are around?" Sam asks her. "Yeah, a bit. But it could just but the other demons from the closet." She tells him nodding. Sam then pulls out the holy water from his bag, unscrewing the cork. Dean looks pained as Sam throws the holy water on John's unconscious body. John has no reaction to this but he moans softly from pain.

"Sam?" John whispers lightly, looking up at the kids in shock. The light from the window shining on his bloody face. "Why are you splashing water on me?" John asks confused. Sam looks over at Dean and Y/N, they all smile lightly from relief, "Dad, you know?" Dean asks John concerned. "They been drugging me" John croaks. "Where's the Colt?" He asks them.

"Don't worry, Mr. Winchester. It's safe" Y/N assured him. "Good kids" John says softly in pain. "And how many times have I told you, sweetheart. It's John" John says firmly with a chuckle. Y/N smiles a bit, "Sorry, John" She chuckles lightly, as Dean cuts John out of the ties. Y/N helps Dean lift John up but he's too heavy, "Goddammit, what have you been eating" She groans, John weighing her down.

John laughs a bit painfully, "That good stuff from the diner" He chuckles as Sam comes over to help. "Here, take this. Let me" Sam says, handing her his duffel to help Dean lift John to his feet. She takes at, switching positions with Sam. "Fuck!" Y/N groans, the pain increasing in her body. Sam and Dean go to walk out of the room with John. "Don't!" Y/N stops them but it's too late.

A firefighter and man knock the door in. Their eyes black. "Come on. Get back back!!" She yells at them, fearful looks on their faces. They rush in with John on their shoulders as Y/N quickly locks the door, as soon as she does this. An axe comes knocking through the top of the door in the middle. She takes the salt out of Sam's bag as the boys open the window to go down the fire escape.

She makes a salt line quickly on the floor infront of the door, "Y/N, let's go!" Dean shouts for her, she tosses him the bag and jumps through the window. Not before making a salt line at the door. They all make their way down the ladder, Y/N last. Dean helps John down down as the drop is steep, gripping him at his waist.

John grunts when he jumps down, Sam following behind and Y/N last. Y/N walks ahead, making sure no one is around as Sam and Dean hold John up. When she looks to her right, she's tackled to the ground by a demon. Stunned by the attack, the demon hands a right hook in her face. "No!" Sam and Dean yell fearfully.

They quickly place John on the ground, rushing over to pull the demon off of Y/N. Dean lands a harsh kick across his face but one look and the demon sends Sam flying back over to John, into the wall. A nasty cracking sound in Sams right side break as he lands on the floor with a hard thump. The demon then sends Dean flying into a car windshield, similar to what Y/N did with Kate.

Y/N is still dazzled by the attack, Y/N spits some blood out onto the ground, so the demon takes his time, landing multiple punches across her face. Bleeding through her nose and mouth, she tries to fight back by the demon is too strong. The burning feeling in her body increasing. "Get off of her you bastard!" Sam yells, nursing his bruised rib, ready to charge at the demon again but he's cut short.

That's when a bullet goes flying straight through the demons left temple and out his right. It falls to the ground besides Y/N, a black smoke oozing out of the bullet wound. Sam watches on in shock to see Dean wielding the Colt, Dean rushes over to Y/N "Y/N? Princess?? Come on" He says gently, helping her to her feet. She gasps for air, winded from the attack as they look down at the dead demon.

Sam looks at his brother with disbelief. "Come on. Come on. We gotta get out of here. Sam, get dad!" Dean orders Sam. Holding up Y/N, he hoists her up and lifts her up bridal style. She looks back the dead demon, on the floor with blood oozing out of his temples, stunned at what just happened.

________________________________

Later that night, they're all now at a cabin hiding out. Sam and Y/N are lining up the windows with salt. Dean comes out of the bedroom after putting John to bed. "How is he?" Sam asks his brother. "He just needed a little rest, that's all" Dean replies dryly, wiping his hands. "How're you, sweetheart?" He asks Y/N concerned, taking a seat at the table. She looks over at him, her eye bruised with a busted lip.

"I'll survive" She sighs deeply. Deans heart drops painfully at her beautifully bruised face. "Hey, you guys don't think we were followed here, do you?" Sam asks them. "I don't know. I don't think so" Y/N responds shrugging. "I mean, we couldn't have found a more out-of-the-way place to hole up" Dean adds. "Yeah" Sam and Y/N sighs in agreement.

Y/N gives Sam a look that says, 'Beat it' but he looks at her confused. Looking back between her and Dean, he now realizes the tension. Nodding understandably, "I'm uh- I'm gonna go check the back door. See if we salted it" Sam clears his throat, looking between Y/N and Dean before excusing himself awkwardly to check the back doors which he has already salted.

After Sam walks off, Y/N nervously walks over to Dean who's sat at a chair by the dining table. "Hey, uh...Dean. You um-" She begins, scoffing a bit painfully. Dean looks over at her with a concerned expression when she settles next to him. "You saved my life back there" She says softly. "So I guess you're glad I brought the gun, huh?" He retorts jokingly but she rolls her eyes.

"Charming, I'm trying to thank you here" She turns her head away, huffing a little irritated. Dean smirks slightly. He then places his hand gently on the side of her face to turn it back to him. Her (e/c) eyes pierce his emerald orbs, her once agonized face contorting to pained one when he brushes his thumb gently on her swollen eye. "You're welcome" He whispers back, mesmerized by her beauty.

She allows her eyes to flutter shut, slightly rubbing her cheek against his hand. Feeling comforted by his touch. Her heart is pumping out of her chest. She then rests her hand against his. "Y/N?" He says quietly, "Yeah?" She responds, opening his eyes. "You know that guy I shot? There was a person in there" Dean says, his tone filled with shame and guilt.

"You didn't have a choice, Dean" She assures him softly. He sighs, removing his hand gently from her face. She winces from the loss of contact, "Yeah I know. That's not what bothers me." He admits. She's a bit confused by this, "Then what does?" She asks curiously. "Killing that guy, killing Meg...I didn't hesitate. I didn't even flinch." He says shaking his head.

She gives him an encouraging look for him to continue, "I mean, for you, Sam or Dad, the things I'm willing to do or kill, it's just...uh..It scares me sometimes" Dean admits, his voice dropping, his eyes glued to the floor. "Dean..." She says gently, placing a hand on his thigh comfortingly. His eyes flicker back to her with a pained expression, his eyes glancing down to her lips.

Her breath hitches when she notices this, her eyes glancing down to his. The tension is so thick, a knife might break if you try to cut it. Dean licks his lips and Y/N does the same, the two begin to inch their lips towards each other but, "It shouldn't. You did good" John says encouragingly as he emerges through the room door. Dean and Y/N pull back quickly from each other, startled as John look at them with raised eyebrows.

They clear their throats awkwardly as Y/N is trying not to turn beet red in the face. "You're not mad?" Dean asks his father. "For what?" John asks him. "Using a bullet" Dean states as if it's obvious. "Mad?" John scoffs. "I'm proud of you" He says smiling.. "You know. Sam, Y/N and I, we can get pretty obsessed. But you— You...you watch out for our families. You always have." John says genuinely.

Dean and Y/N share a look at this. A bit surprised by Johns calm demeanor. "Thanks" Dean says gratefully. Still a bit uneasy. Y/N cocks her eyebrow suspiciously at John but then the lights then begin to flicker in the cabin and they all look at each other nervously. John moves to the window as Sam emerges from the back. "What's going on?" He asks fearfully.

"It found us. It's here" John tells them quickly. "The demon" Sam mutters fearfully. "Sam, Y/N. Lines of salt. Infront of every window, every door" John orders them. "We already did it" Y/N tells him. "Well, check it. Okay?" He says firmly. "Okay" Sam and Y/N responds. Doing exactly as John says. Leaving Dean with his father in the room. "Dean, you got the gun?" He asks his son. "Yeah" Dean responds, still unease.

"Give it to me" John orders. "Dad, Y/N tried to shoot the demon at Salvation and it vanished" Dean informs him. "This is me, I won't miss" John further presses. "Now, the gun. Hurry!" John insists, his hand out for Dean to give him the gun. Deans face drops, looking down at the Colt in his hand and back up at John. He notices the hesitation on Deans face, "Son, please" John pleads as Dean glares at him.

Dean backs away from John, realization finally dawning on him. "Give me the gun, what are you doing Dean?" John huffs irritated. "He'd be furious" Dean states. "What?" John spits annoyed. "That I wasted a bullet. He wouldn't be proud of me. He'd tear me a new one" Deans voice cracks painfully when he says that. He then raises the gun and cocks in John's direction.

"You're not my dad" Dean grits his teeth angrily, clenching his jaw. 'John' stares into the barrel of the Colt in horror. "Dean, it's me". 'John' pleads. "I know my dad better than anyone. You ain't him" Dean snaps. "What the hell has gotten into you?" His father says angrily. "I could say the same thing. Stay back" Dean orders. Y/N and Sam emerge from the back, horror etched on their faces when they stumble upon Dean aiming the Colt at 'John'.

"Dean. What the hell's going on?" Sam asks stunned as they look between the father and son nervously. "Your brother's lost his mind". 'John' scoffs. "He's not dad" Dean states roughly. "What?" Y/N asks in disbelief at the fact that her suspicions might have been right from the start. "I think he's possessed. I think he's been possessed since we rescued him" Dean growls. "Don't listen to him, Sammy and y/n/n". 'John' cuts in, raising his voice.

"Dean, how do you know?" Y/N asks Dean in a low tone. "He's- he's different" Dean stutters. "You know, we don't have time for this. Sam, Y/N. You wanna kill this demon, you gotta trust me". 'John' says angrily. Sam and Y/N look between him and Dean. "Sam. Y/N. Please" He pleads. Without hesitation, Sam and Y/N step behind Dean, taking his side. "No...no" Sam says, shaking his head.

Y/N narrows her eyes at 'John', who huff shaking his head. "Fine, if you three are so sure. Go ahead. Kill me" He whispers painfully, tears welling up in his eyes. His head drops to the ground as Dean looks at his father with tears in his eyes. "I thought so" John says in a deep voice, now looking back up at the three hunters with yellow glowing eyes, a dark smirk on his face.

Their eyes widen in horror, Sam and Y/N go to attack but a force throws them against the wall harshly in a flash, then doing the same to Dean. Which results in the gun falling out of his grip and onto the floor in-front of the demon. They all grunt in pain, gasping for air as the demon possessing John Winchester, takes up the Colt. "What a pain in the ass this thing's been" The demon wearing John chuckles as he examines the gun in his hand.

He then looks over at Sam and Y/N. "It's you, isn't it?" Sam groans painfully as his father looks back at him, a smirk on his face. Eyes still glowing yellow. "We've been looking for you a long time" Y/N grits her teeth angrily, groaning from the force crushing her. "Well, you found me" John responds cockily. "But the holy water..." Sam points out, groaning in pain.

"You think something like that works on something like me?" John scoffs. He then moves close to Y/N, a curious look on his face. "Though I gotta say, I'm surprised Little Miss Jennifer Love Hewitt here felt me possessing John" He smirks, leaning in closer to her. She grimaces as he moves slowly, pressing his lips to her ear. She whimpers in disgust at this.

"Get off of her you son of a bitch!!" Dean bellows angrily, groaning in pain. "You're more powerful than I thought, sweetheart" He whispers lowly as she squirms in repulsion. "I'm gonna kill you!" Y/N growls angrily as the force thuds her against the wall. The demon pulls away with a amused expression, "Oh, that would be a neat trick." He chuckles arrogantly.

"In fact. Here" He smirks, putting the gun down infront of them on a table. "Make the gun float to you, psychic hottie" The demon mocks her. She glares at him as he turns to Sam. Her eyes attached to the gun. "What about you, psychic boy? Got any juice in ya?". 'John' smirks at Sam darkly. Sam groans as the force presses him more into the wall.

Y/N's eyes are still focused on the gun as 'John' chuckles, walking over to Dean. "You know, this is fun. I could've killed you a hundred times today, but this-  This was worth the wait" He lets out a breath, staring out the window next to Dean as Dean grimaces from the pain. He turns to Dean with yellow eyes, "Your dad, he's in here with me. Trapped inside of his own meat suit" The demon says proudly.

"He says hi, by the way. Oh and he is pissed about you using that bullet to save your little girlfriend" The demon smirks. He then leans in with a nasty smirk on his face, his eyes flicker to Y/N and back to Dean, "I gotta admit. I would too. She's a hot little thing" He wolf whistles lowly, chuckling darkly. Dean tries to rip out of the grip to maul him, grunting. Y/N's stomach churns, "Please don't say that with John's mouth!" She groans in absolute disgust.

"I'M GONNA KILL YOU, YOU SICK FUCK!" Dean growls enraged. "John's gonna tear you apart. He's gonna taste the iron in your blood" The demon adds menacingly. Deans face contorts to a pained expression, "Let him go. Or I swear to God-" Dean growls. "What? What are you and God gonna do?" The demon cuts him off snarkily. "You see, as far as I'm concerned, this is justic." He walks closer to Dean as he glares at him.

"You know that little exorcism of yours? That was my daughter." The demons grits his teeth at him. "Who, Meg?" Dean questions. "The one in the alley....that was my boy. You understand?" He says lowly. "You gotta be kidding me" Dean scoffs, grimacing in pain. "What? You're the only one that can have a family? You destroyed my children. How would you feel if I killed your family?" The demon asks rhetorically.

Sam, Dean and Y/N's eyes twitch angrily at this but Y/N still has her eyes trained on that gun. Trying anyhow to move it, focusing for that power she felt that night to come back. It moves a bit on the table and she gasps lightly, Sam notices this too, his mouth slightly agape. "Oh, that's right. I forgot, I did" The demon says humorously with a smirk. Dean glares deadly daggers at him. "Still, two wrongs don't make a right" The demon says with a smile.

"You son of a bitch" Dean mutters enraged. "I wanna know why. Why did you do it?" Sam grunts. The demon turns to him, "You mean, why did I kill Mommy, Auntie M/N and pretty little Jess?" The demon retorts. "Yeah" Sam grunts in response. He then turns back to Dean, "You know, I never told you this, but Dam was gonna ask her to marry him. Been shopping for rings and everything" He continues to taunt them as he walks back towards Sam.

"You wanna know why?" He gets in Sams face. "Because they got in the way" He puts it simple in a dark tone. "In the way of what?" Sam growls. "My plans for you and y/n/n, Sammy.  And all the children like you two" The demon smirks and Sam glares at him. Y/N's jaw clenches angrily at this, her eyes still trained on the gun. "Listen, you mind just getting this over with, huh? Because I really can't stand the monologuing" Dean groans, his tone sarcastic.

The demon laughs and turns back to him, "Funny. But that's all plan of your m.o. isn't it? Masks all that nasty pain. Masks the truth" The demon taunts Dean further, getting face to face with Dean. He clenched his jaw and narrows his eyes at the demon wearing his fathers meatsuit. "Oh, yeah. What's that?" He asks sarcastically. "You know, you fight and you fight for this family, but the truth is...they don't need you. Not like you need them" The demon spits.

"Sam, he's clearly Johns favorite." He tells Dean who glares at him angrily. "And y/n..." John scoffs a laugh, his hands on his hips as he shakes his head. "That piss-poor of an excuse kiss you were about to lay on her, come on man. She'll never see you the way you see her. It's pathetic. Her father would've never accepted you and neither would she" He laughs even louder, his shoulders shakily.

"Fuck you!" Dean retorts enraged, his nostrils flaring. Y/N's gaze breaks from the gun at this, her eyes wide with anger and shock. She grits her teeth at John. "That girl could flatten you like a pancake if she wanted to, son." The demon laughs maniacally. "Even when Sam and John fought. Or when Y/N and F/N butted heads, it's more concern than they've ever shown you." The demon pesters him further.

Dean smirks lightly, "I'll bet you're real proud of your kids too, huh?" He asks ironically. "Oh, wait, I forgot. I wasted em" His tone is low, a dark look in Deans eyes as he smiles smugly. The demon backs up, his demeanor still calm. His yellow eyes light up a bit and Dean screams loudly in pain. "DEAN!" Sam and Y/N scream. "No! Stop!" Y/N pleads, her heart aching as Dean screams.

Blood begins to ooze from his chest as wounds form. "Dad! Dad! Don't you let it kill me!" Dean pleads for his father to fight through the possession. He begins to fade, bleeding from his mouth. "Dean!!" Sam and Y/N scream painfully. "Please! If you let the three of them go! I'll do whatever you want!" Y/N offers pleadingly. The demon stops his attack on Deans chest and turns to Y/N with an amused grin. Deans head drops, falling in and out of consciousness.

"And what can you give me?" He asks curiously. "Loyalty. Respect. The works. Oh, and it'll hurt them a lot more than just killing them" Y/N says in an enticing tone, gritting her teeth. "Y/N are you fucking stupid?!" Sam bellows. "Shut up!" The demon snaps at him, then turning back to her. "You said I'm more powerful then you thought right? Imagine what I'd be if I train under you" She whispers enticingly.

The boys are terrified at her offer. Refusing to believe she'd betray them like that, just to save them. "Is that a promise?" The demon smirks. Y/N smirks back when she sees the gun move again on the table. "Not a chance in hell, bitch" She snarks angrily. Using her mind, the gun flies into her hand and she breaks out of the demons hold, swiftly pistol whipping John's face. His eyes flicker back to John's regular eyes for a bit. Y/N cocks the gun at the demon.

"You kill me, you kill Johnny. And Dean would never forgive you for that" His eyes are now yellow again. A dark smirk on his face. "I know" She growls, aiming for his knee. She shoots him in his kneecap. John falls to the ground as the bullet would looks as if lightening and black smoke is coming out of it. Similar to the way it killed that demon Dean shot earlier.

The hold the demon had on Sam and Dean breaks, their backs sliding off of the walls. Dean falls to the floor, gasping for air as he chokes on his blood as Sam falls to his knees. They rush over to Dean. "Dean. Dean!" Sam runs over to his brother. "Oh god, charming. You lost a lot of blood" Y/N gasps, handing the Colt to Sam.

She places her hands on his face, her heart breaking at the sight of Dean in pain. "Where's dad?" He asks her weakly, grunting in pain. "He's right here, sweetie. He's right here" She assured him, nodding through the tears in her eyes. "Go check on him. Go check on him" Dean breathes out. Sam does so, getting up from besides Dean.

He walks over to his unconscious father. "Dad? Dad?" He calls out to him. John eyes open in a flash, "Sammy! It's still alive. It's inside me. I can feel it" John grunts, Sam's eyes widen in horror. Y/N's head snaps in the direction of Sam and John, her eyes wide as she cradles Dean in her arms. "Just shoot me. You shoot me. You shoot me in the heart, son!" John orders him. Sam cocks the hun tearfully.

"Do it now!" John screams. "Sam, don't do you it. Don't you do it!" Dean yells. "Sam, you gotta hurry. I can't hold onto it much longer!" John pleads grunting, Sam is hesitant to shoot. "Just shoot me, son. Shoot me!" John yells, Sams nostrils flare, choking back his tears as he shakes anxiously. Not able to make that choice, "Son, I'm begging you, we can end this, here and now. Sammy!!" John bellows.

"Sam, no!" Y/N pleads shaking her head. Knowing that if Sam did this, it'll haunt both boys forever. "You do this! Sammy!!!" John grits his teeth, pleading with his son to listen to him for once. But Sam lowers the gun, John screams as the black smoke rushes out of his mouth. Sam looking on in horror as the black smoke drifts into the floorboards of the cabin.

Dean and Y/N sigh in relief as John falls to the floor unconscious. Alive but unconscious.

________________________________

Sam is driving the Impala down the road, Dean in the back and John in shotgun as Y/N drives her Harley side by side the Imapla. Dean groans in pain, the blood still on his mouth. "Look, just hold on, all right? The hospitals only 10 minutes away" Sam assures them. "I'm surprised at you, Sammy. Why didn't you kill it?" John asks him angrily.

"Had it been, y/n/n. She probably would've followed orders" John adds. "No she wouldn't have" Dean pipes up from the back seat, grunting. John sighs, "I thought we all saw eye to eye on this. Killing this demon comes first. Before me, before everything," John says firmly. Sam looks at his brother pained in the rearview mirror. "No, sir. Not before everything" Sam responds firmly.

"Look, we still got the Colt. We still have the one bullet left. We should start over, alright? I mean we already found the demon once-" Sam goes to say but is cut off when a truck comes barreling into the passenger side of the Impala head first. Y/N's eyes widen in terror when she hears the crash, her head turns but her reflexes weren't quick enough to speed up and dodge the car.

It came barreling right into her as the car is pushed away by the truck. The truck controlled by the possessed driver. Her body rolls, bones breaking with snarly sounds. Luckily she had her helmet on, “Dean..” Is the last thing she croaks as she falls unconscious at the last thud to her helmet she received from the bike itself. The car was completely trashed along with her bike. Sam, Dean and John, in bleeding messes. Along with Y/N, unconscious, battered and broken.

________________________________

Authors Note: And with that, Season 1 has come to an end🥹Bitter sweet moment for me I must say. I am so excited for season 2!!! I am apart of the John Winchester hate club so I don't feel too bad about this😂But boy are we in for a ride for the next few episodes, much love and appreciation to everyone reading. I hope everyone enjoyed and is having an amazing weekend🫶This chapter is edited by the way, safe safe sweeties MWAH 💋

Tag list:

@hjgdhghoe @rach5ive @tiggytaylor

Xoxo

[gareleia]

THE KNITTING SAGA BUT MAKE IT SAD

part 1 part 2

lets talk about relationships, shall we. i'm gonna focus on Athena & Telemachus this time, but Hermes will have his turn later

let's be real, Athena is a hardass. sure, she cares, but she's so emotionally constipated that it really doesn't show that much. especially before she goes through that character development arc after her break with Odysseus in My Goodbye

(and what a crisis that is)

(because her masterpiece??? failed her??? but she trusted him??? she made him as in her image as possible??? he was supposed to be perfect???)

(and if he's not perfect, then she failed,,, and she can't fail, she doesn't fail,,, she's a goddess,,, war strategy is her domain, surely there is no way her plan could be flawed,,,)

(what even is the point of her if she's not perfect)

so yeah, she's a hardass. even on baby Telemachus who'd never held a sword before - especially on baby Telemachus, because he's the son of her favored Champion. he may be waaay younger than any of her previous pupils, but she's expecting him to shine just as bright.

Athena, on the first day: let's get down to business! make your father proud! you won't have a weakness! by the time we're done! you're the saddest pupil that I've had! and you haven't got a clue! but I will make a man outta you! Telemachus, a literal toddler, holding a wooden sword as big as himself: ٩(๑❛ᴗ❛๑)۶

and for years to come she trains him relentlessly. she's honestly trying to be nice about it, too. it's just that Athena doesn't do soft or gentle, her default is a neutral face of displeasure, and her idea of encouragement is saying you're not as bad as you used to be, or something along these lines.

Telemachus: *succeeds at something* Athena: *raises an eyebrow in a slightly different manner than usually* Telemachus: *le gasp* could it b-be? am I doing a good job??? Athena: it's… acceptable for your age.

she never once tells him she is proud of him. because surely he already knows. he doesn't need to hear it. his father didn't, after all (odysseus so fucking did)

and this goes on until Telemachus reaches double digits. then My Goodbye happens, and Athena has Feelings™. she's having an existential crisis, and has to confront the fact that she had done something wrong while training Odysseus, and she can't understand what. which is terrifying, because what if she makes a mistake like that with Telemachus. will he fail her too?

will she have to leave him too, so she doesn't watch him die horribly in a tragedy that could've been prevented if only she had made him see-

so Athena doubles down and starts demanding more and more from Telemachus. the praise goes from sparse to non-existent, and nothing he does seems to be enough anymore. she goes from tough love to borderline verbal abuse, thinking that it's the only way to keep him safe and prepare him for the future.

and Telemachus endures. he has to, because he doesn't want his mother to worry. doesn't want to appear weak. Odysseus had done it, so it's only fair his son should too. and when his dad comes home, he'll be sooo impressed. he can do it!

except…. not really. it's been a losing battle since the beginning, and deep down he knows it. he cant win with Athena, not on his own.

???: if you want to impress her, you'll need the blessing of a certain god! divine intervention! someone who's not afraid to- telemachus: aeolus, what are doing in my closet?!

so anyway, Aeolus and winions start helping him via winds and stuff, and Telemachus actually starts exceeding everyone's expectations. it's not that he'd been bad before, but he's soft, and not quite strong enough physically to make up for his gentle constitution

everyone is cheering him on. he's the talk of the palace! his mom is so proud! the suitors start sizing him up with consideration instead of dismissing him outright! (and tele, baby, that's not a good thing! ಠ_ಠ). Athena seems pleased for the first time in ages!! but he knows that it's all a lie, and it's killing him.

cause he's a good, honest boye, and he wants to succeed on his own merit, not because of cheating and lying to everyone he loves. that's vile and dishonorable.

que some very important island-wide competition that everyone is expecting him to join and win. maybe it's even his duty as a prince. like, a right of passage from complete boyhood to adolescence.

and there's,,, a lot of pressure on Telemachus to suceed. everyone and their mother are telling him that of course he's got this, he's a prodigy! def his father's son! nobody doubts his incoming victory! he's got this! he definitely won't disappoint them!

random noble: we'll be cheering you on, young prince! truly, we are blessed by the gods to have such a talented successor to the throne! we'll watch with keen eyes as you triumph over your foes and bring even more honor to your family! b(￣▽￣*) telemachus, eye twitching: y-yeah… thank you… (ㆆ _ ㆆ)

so, the night before the competition Telemachus can barely sleep, he's so wrecked by guilt and nerves. he keeps thinking - what would his father do in this situation? all the stories he'd ever heard of Odysseus always painted him as some kind of invincible, righteous, all-capable genius. so the idea of his dad ever grappling with guilt and feelings of inadequacy is just laughable. (oh, if only he knew)

so, he goes to his mom for advice. because Penelope is awesome. but he can't bring himself to admit that's he's cheating - what if she's ashamed of him? he brought dishonor to his father's name, and if anyone knows - will he get exiled?

so yeah, he basically has a panic attack and cries for like, half an hour straight.

telemachus, bawling: if I lose tomorrow, will you hate me? will dad hate me? I can't do anything right and I'm a failure and a horrible person and- just- what do I do, mother? penelope, holding him: oh, love. sometimes you're so similar to your father I wonder if the gods haven't returned him to me in spirit through you.

because no matter what everyone else says, Penelope knows the truth - Odysseus always followed his heart. oh, how he may have tried to forget he had one, to only ever use his head. but a heart he did have - does have, they have to believe that - and it's a bright and a gentle one. he may have been hardened by years of pain and struggle in a way that Telemachus hadn't yet (and Penelope's heart breaks from knowledge that her son will be, one day). but deep down, at ther cores, Odysseus and Telemachus are strikingly similar. and she loves them all the more for it.

and so, with his mother's blessing, the young prince does just as she told him to: follows his heart. he thanks Aeolus for their help, and asks them to stop giving it from now on. either he'll suceed on his own merit, or he'll wear his failure as a badge of honor and an incentive to do better.

and he loses. badly.

and the world,,, doesn't end? sure, the suitors sneer and jeer, but there's a surprising lack of disowning and exile going around. and the nobles tone it down significantly with undeserved adoration, which is definitely a plus, as far as he's concerned.

the only thing is. Athena.

oh boy.

because she's not stupid. Telemachus may have gotten away with cheating so far, but now he'll have to answer to her why he had flunked so badly, and she won't buy his go-to excuse of 'I got nervous!'

athena, expression unreadable: so. care to explain yourself, my stupid pupil? telemachus: w-well, you see… ha-ha… it's, uh… a funny story… athena: you threw away your best advantage! you've had a god perfectly willing to assist you and yet you still somehow managed to lose! telemachus: wait, what-

so yeah, Athena knew all along.

athena, mildly insulted: how stupid do you think I am, boy? telemachus: but! but! but!.. you never said anything! didn't even scold me for cheating! athena, even more insulted: child, I am the goddess of war strategy, where did you get the idea that I ever play fair abd straightforward? leave that to ares, the simple-minded fool!

to clarify, she's not upset at him for cheating. she's upset that he stopped doing so. so she throws some choice words at him, implying he lacks both talent and intelligence

and Telemachus defends himself by saying that he'd rather fail on his own merit, than abandon his principles and win by lying and dishonoring his family. in response, she calls him naive.

he tries to implore to her connection to his father by saying that he was just trying to do what's right. he was following his heart, just as Odysseus had always strived to. and he's training to fight for his loved ones, not for glory of being known.

it's a one hit K.O., because it reminds Athena of her recent break-up with Odysseus. of everything they spat at each other during My Goodbye. of anger, if hurt, of disappointment, of betrayal, of I loved you and you failed me, of I loved you and I failed you, of good riddance! and y̶͈̔o̴̘̖͆u̶̻̱͆͒'̸̫̩̌̉r̷̼͝e̴̩̒ ̴͎̻̈́̎ȧ̸̦l̵̗͙͌̐o̸͚͕̚n̷̟̯͠e̵̳̩͠

and is their whole line just cursed? is it their way of punishing her for something? why do they both hurt her so? is it her fault?

telemachus: athena? are… are you okay? (‘-’*) athena, coming off MG flashbacks: well, obviously, boy, why would you even ask that (ಥ﹏ಥ)

Telemachus just hugs her, because she obviously needs it. and she melts into it like never before.

because she wasn't made for empathy or kindness. she's born to be ruthless and cold. she's not supposed to love and be loved care about anything but winning. it doesn't come natural to Athena, until recently she had truly thought herself unable to, and yet-

yet here, right in front of her, is a boy who loves for the both of them. loves the whole world - sincerely, selflessly. a truly kind and caring soul (the noble even joke that is true father is Polites).

she can't love.

but maybe… maybe he will teach her.

maybe he already did.

or maybe she always could.

she forgets sometimes, that her fingers know not only the roughness of swords and spears, but also the gentle softness of weaved silk. creation goes hand in hand with destruction, and she can bind countless threads together without breaking them.

and what are humans, if not strings, waiting to be cut by the fates?

also, if Telemachus can teach the goddess of cold cynicism and detached cruelty kindness of all things, then she can teach him swordplay.

yes, it's a threat.

[louisupdates]

Review: ‘All Of Those Voices’ proves Louis Tomlinson has always been the coolest member of One Direction

WE GOT THIS COVERED

Francisca Tinoco | Mar 23, 2023 10:50 am

Everyone loves an underdog story, and it doesn’t get much better than Louis Tomlinson‘s. Often ignored in the first few years of One Direction’s short-lived run, the singer had a point to prove from the jump, and he hasn’t stopped chasing that “gotcha” moment since. The former boy bander’s documentary All Of Those Voices is a testimony to Tomlinson’s no-nonsense approach to fame, and how he has always been the most interesting artist to come out of the British pop sensation.

The doc doesn’t waste any time in addressing the aspect that surely drew in most of the audience, the One Direction breakup. It doesn’t reveal much that isn’t strictly related to Tomlinson’s perspective and lived experience of the events, but within those limits, it goes deep nonetheless, effectively setting the tone for the remaining hour and a half.

Back in the heyday of 1D, you could always count on Tomlinson to be the one to tell it like it was, and it’s warming to see that that hasn’t changed one bit. If anything, the freedom now of not being as high-profile as he once was has allowed Tomlinson to relax into his identity as a good-natured troublemaker willing to be vulnerable enough to sit in front of a camera and talk about his most profound insecurities. At one point, the singer’s voice coach, Helene Hørlyck – with whom he is shown to work extensively – in what is a reflection of his commitment to exposing all his sorest points, says “he’s so gentle, he’s so sensitive on the inside.”

Only those who have followed the artist closely can know exactly what Hørlyck is talking about. Life toughened Tomlinson up by dealing him more than a few tough hands, and the excitable, sensitive, bubbly teenager he was at the start of his career can only be found now in specks when he’s hanging out with his son Freddie, looking at old photographs of his mother with his grandparents, or in private videos from his closest friends. On the outside, he’s built a very lad’s lad image, always down to party, with a beer or joint in hand, but the way his feet have always been so firmly planted on the ground is entirely connected to that core gentility Hørlyck mentions, which in turn is largely a result of his relationship with his mother.

Johannah Deakin passed away in 2016, followed shortly by her 18-year-old daughter – and the singer’s sister – Félicité Tomlinson. Obviously, these losses had to be referenced in the documentary, whose purpose was to document Louis’ evolution as a solo artist; an endeavor that was seriously altered by the untimely passing of the two women in the first year after One Direction’s breakup. The tone in which the events are addressed, however, is never melodramatic or sensationalist as it could have easily slipped into at the hands of another director.

Charlie Lightening crafts a film that perfectly reflects the artist and person at its center. It’s genuine and open but doesn’t ever wallow in the misery – and there was plenty of misery to be wallowed in. Tomlinson’s family and friends praise his ability to keep his head above water after so much heartbreak, but for the singer, there was never any choice – that’s what his mother would have wanted, and the only thing she would have accepted.

With all the cautionary tales in the industry, All Of Those Voices becomes a fascinating music film purely because it documents the life of someone who managed to stay focused and humble, not only throughout being a part of the world’s most popular act at one point but also through immense personal tragedy. Tomlinson’s ability to survive temptation and stay focused on the music, with no intentions of becoming famous or necessarily filthy rich is refreshing.

There’s a piercing moment that perfectly encapsulates this duality, where Tomlinson reflects on the contrasting aspects of the life he has kept in the small South Yorkshire town of Doncaster – where he still lives for the most part – and the pop star mode he has to turn on when he attends talk shows and promotional tours. He admits to struggling with it and feeling easily overwhelmed, because that’s not at all the life he leads the other 90 percent of the time. Still, if that’s what he has to concede to be able to tour the world and play live music – the favorite part and driving force of the job for him – then so be it.

“I need you, and you need me, and I f*cking like that ” – a spur-of-the-moment declaration made by Tomlinson in one of his first solo shows – has become a sort of motto among his fandom. The truth is, fans of the underdog are always more protective and loyal. So, even though it came as a surprise for the former member of One Direction that, even after taking four years to release his first solo album, he was still able to sell out arenas, it made complete sense to anyone paying close attention to his trajectory.

Even after all that, Tomlinson had to deal with an agent who told him he wasn’t sure he would be able to sell tickets in Mexico – a moment he proudly wears on his sleeve after proving him wrong. He knows he’s the perpetual underdog, and while that used to bother him in the past, now he treats it as his biggest weapon.

All Of Those Voices very effectively documents this journey toward self-discovery for Tomlinson, both at a personal and an artistic level. What it lacks in behind-the-scenes exclusives of his songwriting process, it makes up for in heart, authenticity, and plenty of footage from the singer’s time on tour, which he prioritizes anyways.

On stage, by his own admission, Tomlinson feels like a “god,” but once the show’s over, he invites the band around to the back lounge of the tour bus for some beers and mischief, or takes them on a helicopter ride to a private yacht in the middle of the Brazillian sea. Even if the former might feel a lot more attainable than the latter, his presence always makes any party feel like a get-together with old friends at the local pub.

[dujour13]

For those highly interesting prompts and if you're up for writing something: "You have to stop, it's going to kill you!" 👀

Thank you! I'm still working on the final battle of Colphyr, but this prompt just worked perfectly for the aftermath. ❤️

Prompts here!

With his hand in this condition, Woljif wasn’t going to get much sleep anyway. The pain came in throbbing waves, with foaming peaks of agony when one of the delicate ligaments tried to thread itself back together. He’d hit up Daeran, Sosiel and Ember, and drank three potions, and the pain hit a plateau that would respond to nothing. Daeran had warned him, a hand would take time.

Besides, it was hard to sleep with the recurring image of Hepzamirah on her knees roaring, bulging black eyes rimmed with red and filled with hatred, blood spilling down her chin. And that wasn’t even the worst. Every time he closed his eyes there was a flash of a vast, evil goat’s head burned into his brain. Sheesh, some family. He realized with a bitter smile that old Gran could have given any one of them a run for their money.

He got to his feet and paced around Hepzamirah’s quarters, keeping an eye out for hidden stashes to kill time, and was just rationalizing waking someone up for more healing when he noticed Siavash was not in his bedroll.

On watch, Arueshalae directed him to the dark portal on the far side of the hall.

Siavash stood framed against it, head bowed. In the dusk of the mine he glowed softly. As Woljif approached he noticed little blue flowers springing from the cracks in the floor made by Baphomet’s hooves. Elysian magic flickered in the darkness around Siavash like green fireflies.

He felt a little pinch in his heart: another burst of mythic power had transformed him again, and now that he knew the source of that power he would be more than a little disturbed by what was happening to him. It was like the Moon of the Abyss, but worse. Thrust upon him whether he wanted it or not. Spiraling out of control.

Speaking of which… walking past the stale ash that had been the body of a demon lord and his Nephilim daughter, that little pinch in his heart grew into a cold bolt of fear. Talk about spiraling out of control.

Siavash tried to smile as he approached. “How’s that feeling?”

He opened his mouth but found he couldn’t make up his mind between milking it for more sympathy and making a show of being tough.

Instead, what came out was a third, unexpected thing. “Scary.”

Siavash sighed. “I know.”

“I mean, I oughtta be dead. All of us.”

“I know,” he said again.

“What in the nine hells chief? I mean, the Fleshmarket was touched in the head, but pickin’ fights with demon lords?”

“How was I supposed to know she was going to summon Baphomet?”

“And then when we’re all nose-deep in Pharasma’s tits you get cheeky with Nocticula?”

“I only did what I—”

“Far be it from me not to pocket somethin’ lyin’ around, but you didn’t need that crystal, did you?”

“That crystal is a piece of the puzzle of what Areelu Vorlesh did to me,” Siavash said quietly.

“Yeah, aright, sorry. I get it. But you didn’t have to—"

“Do you think it’s going to my head?” His eyes were wide. Woljif peered closer. They had changed from the old warm hazel to glinting colors like in the surface of diamond. He searched his face for a moment.

“No,” he said eventually. “Not like that. Not like making you different. Just like magnifying you. Don’t get me wrong, chief, I like you. It’s just that… it’s scary sometimes.”

His shoulders relaxed slightly. “I know.”

He rested his good hand on his shoulder. “We did it, y’know. We stopped Hepzamirah. We can go back and put this all behind us now.”

As he feared, Siavash just looked sad.

“Right, chief? We’re done.”

“No. I’m sorry, Woljif. I wish I were.”

Not that he was expecting anything else. He leaned his forehead against his shoulder. It was true, it wasn’t over for Siavash. He himself had laid the Moon of the Abyss to rest, had swallowed his fear and faced what was hunting him and beat it all by himself… well, all by himself with some help. That had ended well. But this, he feared, wasn’t likely to.

“I know,” he said quietly. “I’m with you.”

“Thank you, Woljif.” Siavash turned to wrap him in his arms very carefully, mindful of the hand in the sling and the mending ribs. “You’re the bravest person I know.”

[angelbutterfly-writes]

I Love Lucy

"Lucy! I love you. I love you." He shouts as she fades away, her frame disappearing behind the cursed double doors. "I love you."

                   I love you. I love you. I love you. 

It becomes a mantra, the only thing keeping him steady.

                   I love you. I love you. I love you.

It keeps him steady until he feels arms around his waist, gently nudging him until his head is buried in the crook of her neck.

Then it shifts.

                   I love her. I love her. I love her.

"I know you do." The woman soothes, softly stroking his hair as she leads him towards one of the chairs.

"I love her, Angela." His words are almost incomprehensible, his tears muffling each syllable, but she knows what he's saying. She knows what he means.

"I know." She continues to run her fingers down his arm, the tender touches grounding him. It's the only tangible thing that he can feel right now. It's the only thing he feels besides the fear and regret pooling deep in his being.

"I know." She reaffirms. "And I know she knows. She's always known like how you've always known."

"But..." He stutters, his voice sounding more small and childlike than she's ever heard before, and her heart aches for her best friend and the young officer who has become like a sister to her. "But I never told her. I never got the chance to tell her."

"Angela... What if..." His breath hitches as he tries to find the right words. "What if she... What if we... She might..."

"Shh. None of that now, Timothy." She chastises him. "We both know Lucy's stronger than this. Whatever happens, she'll bounce back stronger than ever, and before you know it, she'll be giving you grief for being so sappy right now."

The duo share a watery smile at that, but it doesn't quell the fear in his heart.

"You didn't see her, Angela." Images of the past hour flash through his mind, his fist clenching as his nails dig into his palms at horrible sight he wishes he never saw. "She was barely breathing. I could barely see her face and her arms, her legs... Everything was so bloody..."

He breathes. "I can't remember if they said she coded in the RA."

"Oh, Tim." She pulls him close once again. "I know we're not supposed to promise, but I promise you she'll be ok."

"How-" His voice cracks, making her wince. "How do you know?"

"Because she's Lucy." She simply says. "She's Lucy, and you're Tim, her fierce protector. No matter what happens, she'll always have you to rely on, she'll always have you watching her six."

"You'll be there to pick her up whenever she falls, and somehow your rough and tough nature will make her smile." She pats the man beside her. "You're all she needs. And she's all you need. Don't waste this chance."

"Ange-"

"Lucy Chen?" The voice breaks his train of thought and he jumps out of his seat. The rest of the doctor's words are a blur, only a single phrase standing out from the rest: "Room 1015".

He rushes up the stairs, leaving Angela to shake her head as she converses with the doctor. She's sure not a word he'd said had registered into his thick skull, and he'll definitely regret it later once he's seen her, and after the adrenaline dies down.

He stops right before the door, the three letters plastered over the entryway causing his heart to pound. Logically, he knows the only place she'd be after a major surgery is the ICU, but he can't help but feel that she shouldn't be here in the first place.

She shouldn't be lying helpless in front of him, connected to more tubes and wires than he can bother to count. She needs machines to keep her alive at this point and it scares him. 

Lucy Chen is the most vibrant, lively and active person he knows. She's fiercely independent and does not take well to being held down.

He's not sure what she'd think if she saw herself now. 'Maybe.' He thinks with a sad smile. 'She'd be fighting to get herself disconnected and out of here.'

He steps through the door, his footsteps in tune with the beat of her heart.

                            Beep. Thud. Beep. Thud. Beep. Thud.

His feet lead him to her bedside, his aching body crouching down beside her as he gingerly brushes the few stray locks from her forehead.

"Hey, Luce." He whispers, tears pooling in his eyes. "I'm here."

He chokes out a sob. "I'm here now. You don't have to be afraid. I'll protect you."

Placing a gentle kiss to her temple, he murmurs against the soft bruised skin. "I love you." 

This was inspired by @wanna-be-bold’s tumblr post:

“October 15th is National "I Love Lucy" (yes for the show but hear me out) day and I would love to do a challenge of people writing Tim saying I love you to Lucy for the first time or him telling someone else he loves her or gif manipulations of him saying I Love you to Lucy... basically any creation where Tim tells Lucy he loved her or telling others he loves her”

I know it’s not the 15th yet in most countries, but it’s currently 7 am of the 15th in mine, so I’ll start us of with this. You can also find this work at the link below. Happy reading.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/42384273

[knowlesian]

having hit two notes (izzy’s and stede’s, twice over) in this fucked up three part finale harmony: it seems only fair to close it out and finally get to do the one that hits me in the face and says ‘you are going to cry about this until the day you die. now say thank you’.

ed’s turn at the pain wheel.

so: it’s been a tough week for him. a real fuckin’ tough week. ed offered more than his heart to stede— he offered himself. he told stede the truth, again and again. he gave things up. he was willing to fold socks and lick the king’s boots; he was ready to run away to china and kill the men they used to be, to be new people together. 

these were things he was ready to give up, and he very much wanted that life together: but the way they were about to obtain it would have ruined it for them both in the end.

i’d like to think, down in the part of ed’s soul that understands it is fucking imperative he keep an eye on all the exits in dangerous situations and had to build up an immunity to this sort of thing, he knows poison fruit from a poison tree when he sees it. that’s why he turns melancholy, not angry; he lost the thing he wanted most, but that life wouldn’t have lasted.

half-truths you build out of half-lies start to taste sour, once you get down to the rind. ed of all people knows that.

so he’s sad. he’s ready to listen to taylor swift alone in his blanket fort and cry, until lucius introduces him to the healthier version of what ed proposed to stede on the beach: what if, every single time we take a breath, the version of us that lived before that breath is gone?

what if that isn’t just dying? what if it’s... finding our way into this newest, complicated self, and living again?

and, in ways that break my heart, in ways olu and jim would understand and in some ways, their reunion echoes: ed hears every fucking word. they understand each other; lucius cries for his pain, and ed glimpses a pathway out.

twigs and all.

he sings his sad little breakup ballad on the deck this time, in full view of the family he’s trying to guide in stede’s absence; it’s so real it kind of makes me cringe, but in the way where i want to shield him from view because i too have been trained that when you are open like that they hurt you.

watching ed sing his song makes me feel the way i feel when i can’t deal with my shit enough that i lose it and cry in public, and i mean that as a compliment. you’re not supposed to do that outside your bedroom or the shower in a pinch. we can only get that open where people can’t see us, my training says.

my heart is happy for ed, my instincts say: look out, baby, they are going to hurt you.

which is why i both hate and entirely understand what one mister izzy big ol’ motherfucking duffel bag of shit hands does next.

he looks at edward, the man he’s built his self-image and career around, considers losing it all in one go, and thinks: look out, baby, they are going to hurt you.

(is the you in that sentence izzy, or is it ed? 

yes.)

and then. ohhhh, and then.

izzy decides, why the fuck not. one more hold his beer moment for the road. and then this dumb motherfucker goes nuke-ya-ler, dubya style.

ed has no idea it’s coming. izzy was clearly not thrilled by his performance: but hey, he’s perfectly aware izzy spends a lot of time being not exactly thrilled with shit ed does. still. ed saved him from from meeting the devil at the bottom of the deep blue sea for a reason.

for better, but mostly for worse: izzy’s been there. izzy has been his sad, violent version of loyal, and when you do the emotional math as edward shows he is capable of, again and again he knows: in izzy’s mind, he licked the king’s boots for ed. can’t you see? i did it for you, edward. i did it for us, and if you want me to stay with you by fucking god you’re going to have to stay down here with me, fucking silent and fucking violent until we fucking die, hand in unlovable hand, is the desperate sad ballad izzy’s singing here. and edward can’t be edward but only in private with izzy if he’s edward in public, too.

fear, turned outward through anger and devastating words and made a weapon. jealousy, trauma, pain, all melted and formed into a shield that grows into a wall and becomes a weapon all its own: what do we mean, when we say violence?

because what comes next sure feels like violence to me.

ed’s trying to clean up: he’s talking to izzy like they’re still the unit they were before stede rolled up, but in a way that incorporates the more authentic man he’s trying to feel his way into being. 

this is what fucks me up most on a long list of things that fuck me up about these two, if i’m honest. izzy makes me think in ways that are uncomfortable and very valuable about certain parts of myself i am less fond of; and as a fictional exercise in ‘why are we all so grubby and weird and why do we ruin our own lives sometimes????’ case studies, he is Peak. for a million reasons, he makes me sad.

but what ed shows here is a flickering attempt to build himself up into the sort of hearthfire olu gives jim. (and why i think olu and jim and ed and izzy carry a lot of sad/dark mirror narrative beats together.)

come with me, iz, the subtext here says. can’t believe we were living like this.

if i can save you i can save me, if i can save me i can save you: we don’t have to do this, you know that right? stede didn’t want me; stede left. he didn’t want to be new people with me.

i’m so fucking sick of just surviving. i want to have space to be new people, ed keeps begging everyone around him. lucius heard what he meant, and gave him the words for it. now he’s offering to share with izzy the kindest, most beautiful gift ed’s ever been given; even more beautiful than stede’s finery, or his unsure confession of happiness and desire, because ed thinks it was a lie.

all that happened, and ed still has the courage— the generosity, the need to not be alone, the fear and the altruism all wrapped up in one very beautiful and very complicated man— to clean up the evidence of his grief bender and say to izzy, a lot of shit has gone down lately, but why not. let’s do this whole new people thing together. 

he’s sad; he’s healing. he’s still off-kilter.

and here comes the push.

I should have let the English kill you. This... whatever it is that you’ve become... is a fate worse than death. 

the way ed’s face falls as he hears the man he’s lived alongside for years say he wishes ed wasn’t alive; he draws in this little breath and it’s almost like he can’t quite process izzy’s actually said the horrific thing he just heard. it stabs me in the heart, every single time.

because here's the thing; there are a million killers. there are a million sailors and a million first mates and a million cranky lil boat guys who want to serve under a legend.

i’m sure a lot of them would have been the kind of yes-men who would have also hated stede, and hated this change; they would have dealt with it and shut the fuck up, or left, or done a million things but do izzy’s sad and gross version of fighting like hell to keep his subtextual man.

i think it’s that sad and gross fight that spells out the answer to the obvious: so why keep him? question.

because they saw something in each other. and because emotionally, ed got something he needed from izzy; and emotionally, izzy got something he needed from ed. people will do horrible, painful things to get what they need, if they think that’s their only way of getting it.

for years they did those kind of things to themselves, and to each other.

ed kept izzy around for all this time, his purse dog-slash-middle manager from hell sidekick, and now he would like to keep him around in this new world. for better; again, mostly for worse, they kept each other safe at the same time they kept each other in pain.

and izzy just said: i wish you were dead. i wish i hadn’t done it. my years of loyalty and my recent betrayals, the ones you understand i considered both unsavory duties to my captain and sacrifices made for the man my captain becomes, but if and only if he is alone with me; i will take all of it back if you keep trying to be new fuckin people, edward, izzy is telling him. if you won’t stagnate here with me, be my monster and my subtext boyfriend, you can go ahead and just die. these are your options if you want to keep me in your life.

(and what kind of life could you have, without me in it?)

ed thinks stede could only want him when he’s a gentleman like stede is a gentleman— like he was a gentleman, before he entered and exited the underworld of his original flavor toxic masculinity, entirely unknown to ed— and now he knows: unless izzy ever figures his shit out, he will only want ed when he’s a monster.

and then, quiet part horrifyingly loud: izzy says what whatever he is now? this beautiful complicated man with his soft underbelly and heart on display at once, finally, who is taking such extreme emotional risks despite very recent disappointment? who is braver right now, breathing deep in the face of izzy’s fury, trying to keep it together and stay open, than he has ever been in his entire life?

(because make no mistake: ed has had to be very, very brave, for his entire life.)

better ed be dead than be... this. “whatever it is”, the writers choose to have izzy say, and throw in vague tones of dehumanization via ‘it’ as well as the way they have izzy refer to ed in terms that imply he holds dominion over ed’s life and death. (which sets up their later use of ‘boyfriend’ even better.)

not i wish they had; not they should have. i should have let them.

these writers are precise and very, very mean.

so ed pulls back, trying to salvage some of his power and assert who he is while dealing with that fucking... load of soul-crushing pain, all without losing sight of the path lucius revealed to him.

Well... I am still Blackbeard, so...

No! This... this is Blackbeard. 

they give this moment time to breathe in a way that kills me. izzy shoves the cartoon in ed’s face; ed stares at it. stares at the monster the world wants him to be; the monster izzy says is all he could ever be.

and i think maybe, deep down in his heart, ed thinks: the monster that stede might have actually wanted, more than the failed attempt at pretending ed could be a gentleman. izzy wants the monster, the world wants the monster. stede left, after seeing the monster’s a man, too; maybe that’s why.

maybe this is all they will ever want. all anyone will ever want.

the man he was falling in love with, and thought might be around forever left him; the man who has proved he will stick around forever, even when ed tells him not to, has just said he wishes ed would die if he won’t be what izzy wants. he’s found izzy’s limit, after years and years of spiraling into greater depths of toxic pirate bullshit together.

the limit: ed. being a full fucking person. ed, doing things he wants to do instead of things other people want him to do, because they want him to do it.

‘what have they done to your face’; ‘i should have let the english kill you’. 

‘this is blackbeard.’ ‘a bloodthirsty killer, born of the devil.’ 

even in the dialogue, even when they don’t know they’re doing it, even when he doesn’t know they're doing it: people keeping this shit to ed. he is so, so tired of people doing this shit to him.

which leads neatly into:

Not some namby-pamby in a silk gown, pining for his boyfriend.

in the same way stede can’t know why ‘from the devil’ would cut so deep, i doubt izzy knows why what he’s just said is such a specific cut. the general surge: yeah, he knows. he’s trying to provoke ed; you provoke people by being provocative.

but silk. a silk gown, this sad and mean and in desperate need of therapy and like... so, so many more punches to the nose in this moment man said.

izzy thinks he is communicating, in so many words: edward. you're being weak. shape the fuck up and get with it again. it’s like a very smart sock once said: this is how the world works. those who do not hurt others get hurt by others, and i have chosen my motherfucking side of the knife here. have you forgotten how this dance goes?

ed is taking all that in, and on top of it seeing a red silk handkerchief and a mother who loved him as well as she could, but only in the ways she’d been taught; and she had been taught in so many ways that to yearn for more than your lot is to set yourself up for heartbreak. you reach: you fall.

and when you fall, it will be because god wanted you punished for the sin of thinking you could ever deserve more. whenever you hurt, whenever you suffer, whenever you have no family or food or shelter, not even an emotional place you can feel safe and call home: that’s where god finds his home, ed’s mother was taught. that’s where god finds his joy. your joy comes at the end of a life of silent, willing service to those god loves best. 

god is not there, not when you are joyful; not when you are not serving them.

they own everything; why shouldn’t they own god, too? how kind they are, to share these scraps with us and teach us to call them the road to glory.

these are the things ed’s mother was taught; these are the things she taught him.

what do we mean when we say violence? the generational trauma forced christianity wrought centuries ago is still hurting us today. still keeping us trapped in these horrible, binary cycles.

one above; one below. how can god we own love us more, if he doesn’t love you less? that’s the secret at the heart of why the world needed ed’s mother to hold her child close, and try to convince him not to look violence in the face and call it what it fucking is.

and so ed explodes. hand around izzy’s throat, calling izzy the dog izzy implied ed might as well be, by saying he should have essentially allowed the english to put him down; and worse, izzy enjoys it. ‘there he is’, izzy says. breathless: worshipful. touch tender as his words weren't, one hand coming up to cup ed’s cheek; this is how we love, izzy thinks. i hurt you until you hurt me back, and once we slice each other to ribbons we can use the wounds as an excuse to touch each other gently and say it’s because we have to, not because we want to.

we could never want to. if we wanted to, what would that say about us?

this is not ed’s world; this is not ed’s love. not his tenderness. he’s used violence as a tool and been horrified by it. he’s been scarred by it in more ways than one. then he’s enjoyed it, sometimes, or at least acknowledged its helpful byproducts in his life.

it’s never his instinct. in one of the ways he makes up a narrative pair with olu, ed’s about community.

ed will hurt people; still, ed doesn’t want to hurt people. it’s a fine line, but like ed’s own distinction in canon it’s an important one.

so he shoves izzy away, disgusted with everything going on right now. his life is hell; lucius promised him it could be better. that ed could be different. stede lied; maybe his playthings do nothing but lie, too. stede took a while to reveal himself, didn’t he? that felt so good at first, didn’t it? he thought he was safe then. thought he finally wasn’t alone.

and now here he is: alone again, anyway.

alone with izzy! who is fucking elated. this man is nearly crying with joy, he is staring at ed’s mouth, he is like... way, way, way too fucking horny on main. this is it: he can taste forgiveness resting heavy on the back of his tongue, even now. ed needs a little more pushing before he’ll do it right and let izzy breathe easy, but that’s fine. the end’s in sight, gory gory what a hell of a way to die. just a little bit more now, and they can forget it all happened and go back to the way it all was before. hell, it can be even better! because it can be even sadder, now, and a whole lot worse.

so izzy pushes ed again. blackbeard’s his captain, it’s blackbeard he serves. edward, on the other hand? edward better prove he’s worthy of being a man again when they’re alone, or izzy is going to keep this shit up until he does.

izzy thinks they’re connecting; izzy thinks this is how they keep each other safe. this is how they love each other. 

ed looks at a man who loves him, but doesn’t see him. izzy’s love is conditional as god’s ever was; if ed wants to keep it, there are going to be rules he has to follow and boundaries he has to stay inside. 

there has to be one above, and one below.

suddenly, the things ed thought he might have been wrong about start to settle back in. 

when izzy leaves it there and stomp stomp stomps off in his little booties, unaware he is enjoying his last day on earth still in possession of all his toes, this battle is still only sort of won. because ed might have pulled it back here! maybe! if by the magic of things happen when we want them to, fuck you, ofmd definition of time, stede arrived then and confessed everything, maybe that would help. maybe lucius could have walked in; maybe ed could have had five fucking minutes alone to deal with izzy’s shit and not get immediately thrown into yet another reminder of his trauma.

instead of any of that, the crew calls for a song with a new, even more affectionate nickname. eddie, they call him, and ed does some emotional time travel as he’s thrown back to the party in e5. they pretended to like him, too; they said he could be funny without being a joke, if he was with them.

they were lying; stede fucked them up for him, but stede’s gone now and might have been lying, too.

is this the latest lie? are they making fun of him? is he a fucking joke again? 

izzy just told him he’s better off dead if he keeps trying to be authentic; izzy has done the opposite of laugh at him. and izzy, for all his many... many flaws, has never entirely flat-out lied to ed. gone behind his back! obfuscated and left out key details in service of his own agenda! but izzy just looked him in the face and said the meanest fucking thing you can say— their shit’s aaaaaalllll out there now. so in a way: izzy has been honest and now he’s safe, for some very narrow and horrifying values of both words.

ed understands what izzy wants from him. what does the crew want?

moving through the world on his own, ed has learned he has two options: he can be an unthreatening joke, or he can be a monster. 

ed also knows that when he doesn’t pick fast enough, the people around him will pick for him. 

izzy just said it right out loud. he wants the monster, and being the monster kept ed safe at the same time it hurt him. he knows he can survive that pain. 

what does the crew want? they want eddie to sing them another song. and they might want it because they’re laughing at ed’s stupid song and his stupid pain and his stupid reaching for better. how could ed ever know? how could he trust them? 

that’s the problem. there’s no litmus test for love, and izzy has offered concrete evidence for his sad version of the word. the crew asks ed to take it on faith he’s not the butt of their joke.

the crew calls for him, inviting him to join them topside again and enjoy the stupid, silly, joyful things they can do and be together. this is what hurts the most: we as an audience know they love him more than they ever have, in this moment. they see ed: all they want to do is have some fun, with ed. none of their laughter would hurt. they love him: he could make jokes with them and not be a joke to them.

but stede left ed, and izzy has made it clear he’s out for good if ed doesn’t straighten up and fly right p-d-fucking-q; and you can’t know for sure people are lying when they say they love you, not until it’s too late.

illuminated by the window, ed makes his choice.

all right, then. monster it is. 

monsters don’t need hearts; monsters don’t wear fine things well. and so: overboard goes the red silk, floating off into the stede-less moonlight.

(i want to do something else longer about ed and lucius so i will just paste this in the gap now: the way lucius is confident in his ability to call ed by his name and speak to him like an equal, and the almost deadened look on ed’s face as he allows lucius to twist in the wind, letting the gift lucius gave him die to an down to ember until the mood shifts and ed shoves him over the side all do a lot of painful things to my heart. ouch.

also: lucius is alive, his shoe goes flying and does a ZOOM WHOOSH thing, there’s a whole sound!!!!! he clung to the rope or the side and he is now in the walls eating paper. the end.)

which brings me to: one gun, one knife, and gloves that keep a barrier between ed and everything he touches.

we don’t see ed’s face in full, not once in this scene; we see the whole of the cartoon, but only fragments of the man. his body; his weapons. his cheek, as he draws back on the beard that made him safe. we see his eyes reflected in an implement of violence and of penetration, as ed tells himself: i am the kraken.

not blackbeard, a mantle that in some ways allowed ed to try and bridge the gap between ed the man and ed the monster, but the kraken. 

this is how he heartbreakingly survives everything going to shit at once, naming himself all monster and no man. stede didn’t see enough worth sticking around for in the man; the world keeps demanding the monster.

and izzy. sad, cruel, suffering izzy: izzy wants the monster.

and now, ed’s going to give them all what they want. 

let’s see if they choke on it.

that’s right. let’s do this: the Weird Vore is nigh.

this scene is very jesus-flavored. there are jesus sprinkles atop this horrifying sundae of pain and a crunchy jesus shell coating. this shit is like... thirty one flavors of super gross in the most catholic and subtextually gay way possible.

so obviously, i fucking love it.

izzy is posed on the bed in a way everyone dragged to mass and forced to stare at a bleeding, ripped white dude in an equally white loincloth would find familiar. (izzy’s is black, which is a neat inversion as well as a hilarious nod to the white hat/black hat cowboy movie politics that in some ways helped build our cinematic language on these things.)

his feet are bare, his legs are bare, his chest is bare. he’s almost naked; he’s vulnerable. open.

in polar opposition ed is armored up and closed off. he touches izzy: izzy does not touch him. his hands are going to stay clean under their leather, no matter what he does next.

and what he does next is use some big fuckin’ scissors and make himself a diy first communion starter kit. he’s got body and oh boy does he have blood, and izzy ever so kindly holds his mouth wide fucking open while he screams, a parishioner waiting for the host.

he’s held edward up as his god. now, after all izzy’s years of service and suffering, edward’s going to be his priest, too. and why not? this is what izzy wanted, wasn’t it? 

unfortunately: yeah. stede got what he wanted and was properly horrified to see the rot at the bottom of it all. izzy, on the other hand? after years of waiting at edward’s elbow and watching him cut off other men’s toes, loom up over them and force them to swallow, izzy has played himself some very, very stupid games. 

and worst of all— he is so, so very happy that he is at long last going to receive his very stupid prize.

ed always knows what to say to put izzy off when he won’t quit it and give ed a little breathing room. the trick is telling him what he wants to hear in that moment. i’m not interested in stede, oh no. i’m going to kill him, and then i’m going to prove i don’t care that everybody talks shit about you literally shitting your pants last time you babysat alone. i need you, i hate you, i want you to go, i wish that you’d stay. 

he also knows words aren’t going to cut it, not this time. if he wants izzy to back off enough to let him breathe, he’s going to need to give him more. izzy wants the monster; ed will be nothing but the kraken. 

so who takes izzy’s toe? who makes sure ed doesn’t have to be the kind of alone that doesn’t come complete with a crowded room to be alone in, the monster or the man?

the answer is once again just yes, because on this show it’s almost always both/and, not either/or.

half-truths, half-lies. it’s like arguing about the existence of ghosts or god, determining where the exact ratio sits, like trying to find a way to measure and quantify love so you one hundred percent absolutely no doubts know it’s the kind that won’t crumble and leave you in more pain than before you had anything to lose at all.

ed is edward is blackbeard is the kraken is ed, on and on into forever. 

we are a choir, a mob, a whole fucking world, even when we are all alone. we contain multitudes; i draw a breath, you draw a breath, and the people we were crumble to dust and then linger in the corners, haunting us with their presence and the ways we can’t ever go back to who we were before, not really. no matter how hard we try.

we die and become new people a million times, every day, until we don’t. 

so who exactly is it that rests his hand on izzy’s chest, right over his heart? who clamps the other over his mouth, as gentle as izzy’s notions of love are not? and who feeds those notions to a man who only wants ed when he’s not the entirety of ed, making sure he chews them up good so they don’t get stuck in his throat? who subtextually fucks izzy through the mattress, and who hates himself the whole time because none of this was what he wanted?

all of them, all at once, because it’s all ed or none of it is. like the ghosts of the people we were, the gods we own or love we can be sure isn’t a lie— either it’s all real because you can’t prove it’s not, or it’s all bullshit because you can’t prove it’s not. 

we want things to be simple. we want there to be An Answer, so we don’t have to exist in uncomfortable, ambiguous spaces.

fortunately, ofmd is pretty fucking comfortable in those spaces.

[kiyosamu]

remember.

----♡----

pairing: rintaro suna x female reader.

genre: yandere, dark, light romance. // one shot, 4k words.

synopsis: abusive relationships can seem impossible to leave. when you open up to a classmate, your life takes a dramatic turn in the best and worst ways imaginable.

content warnings: assault, domestic abuse (not from suna), descriptions of violence, yandere themes.

----♡----

“hey, kid.” suna’s voice caught your attention as you passed by him in the university corridor. he was quiet, only speaking loud enough for you to hear right as you were walking by.

“hey, rintaro.” you stopped for a moment, refusing to look up at the tall man towering over you.

“i haven’t seen you in a while. everything okay?” he leaned against the wall and clutched a textbook to his chest. “you haven’t even been to class. kinda been missing my project partner.”

“you got my work though, right?” you asked him, partially covering your face with your hair. “i emailed it to you.”

“i did.”

“okay… good.” you cleared your throat, awkwardly shuffling and offering a suspiciously sudden goodbye.

“hey, wait-" suna grabbed your wrist to keep you from leaving. the small amount of pressure more than enough on your deep bruise to make you wince.

suna noticed your pained expression and immediately let go, stepping back.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to hurt you. i just wanted to ask you if-“

“it’s okay!” you interrupted, knowing you’d already spoken to him for too long. you needed to get out of there before anyone noticed. “you didn’t hurt me. sorry, i have to go. bye!”

your behaviour was erratic. your speech was rushed; forced and strained with every word as you tried your best to appear normal.

unfortunately it was much harder to pretend everything was okay than you’d originally thought it’d be.

you quickly turned and headed down the hallway to drop off the assignments to your other professor. the last one you’d have to see for the day before heading home. you were almost there. so close you might not even run into him.

you’d hoped, anyway.

----♡----

after seeing your professor, you walked out into the fresh evening air. the cold stinging your cheeks and the wind pushing your hair out of your face.

your cheeks burned from the freezing air, but it was your black eye was that hurt the most.

“i’m sorry, i just lost my temper.” his words echoed in your head, “you shouldn’t have pissed me off.”

you nodded, essentially agreeing with him. it’s true, if he didn’t get mad, he wouldn’t have hit you. and why was he mad? because of something you did. so really, it was your own fault.

you were the one apologizing to him that night. doing anything you could to make it up to him. all of this with a deep purple bruise forming on your face.

when he finally left your dorm and went back to his, you were mentally exhausted. you fell asleep and woke up right before your second class of the day.

he had started forcing you to miss classes, to do everything at home and only go in to submit your work. this was for two reasons.

the first, you could spend more time with him due to your schedules. if yours was freed then you’d have more time together.

the second was to stop you from talking to other men. completely.

...and then he found out suna was your lab partner.

“i don’t want you working with him.”

“i have to. the professor is the one who chooses.”

“then work from home and submit the stuff online. that guy is a manipulator. he’s dangerous and will take advantage of you. i just know it.”

you’d never gotten that type of vibe from suna, but you obeyed your boyfriend because you didn’t want to know what would happen if you didn’t.

secretly, though, you missed class. you missed working with him. laughing, getting to know each other. he’d become a good friend over the past year and since you had the same majors, you two shared quite a few classes.

he was calm. funny and quiet, but definitely not timid. his energy made him come off tough, but not scary. if anything, he made you feel… safe.

just for those few hours you had together.

and whenever class would end, you found yourself missing that feeling.

----♡----

“i have to go to class tomorrow.” you said, refusing to make eye contact with your boyfriend who’d invited himself over to your dorm.

just like he does every. single. night.

“why? you gonna go talk to that suna guy?” he approached you, giving you a terrifying smile that you know wasn’t coming from a place of happiness.

“yuji… please.” your words were barely a whisper when you felt his fingers wrap around your throat. ���my professor told me i need to start going. my grades are falling behind.”

his fingers tapped rhythmically against your skin. dancing skillfully as he toyed with the idea of choking you. you held your breath, expecting the worst.

“you should try harder.” he growled, digging his fingertips into your neck and you clenched your eyes closed. “get your grades back up so you don’t have to spend any more time with that guy.”

“okay, okay!” you grabbed onto his wrist and his eyes widened. “i will! i’ll get my grades up so i don’t need to see him anymore.”

“good girl.” he smiled, the evil expression he’d previously worn had melted away into a false image of a kind man. “always listening so well for me.”

yuji leaned in and kissed you. you kissed back, barely, but just enough for him to be satisfied and leave you alone.

“time for me to go.” he sighed as he heard the dorm advisor do a final walk through to knock on the doors and let the students know it was time for guests to leave.

“see you tomorrow?” he asked, tilting your chin up to look at him.

“sure…” you whispered. you trembled under his touch and wanted nothing more than for him to leave your sight.

“good. it’s a date.” he said happily and gave you another kiss, practically skipping down the hallway back to his own room.

you shut and locked your door, desperately wishing that was the last time you’d ever have to see him.

----♡----

“well, well, well.” suna cooed as you took your seat next to him. “as i live and breathe, i never thought i’d see the day. you finally made it to class.”

you nodded and pulled out your books.

“had to. my grades are slipping.” you sighed, looking around at the science classroom. “what are we doing today?”

“lab day.” suna said as he nudged an instruction sheet towards you. “should we put on our coats and get to it?”

“okay...”

you started to have an internal panic attack. your wrists were as bruised as the black eye you were hiding behind your hair.

suna stepped away to get your lab coats.

this would all be visible, and you didn’t want suna (or anyone) to see any of it.

you nervously approached your professor and she looked up at you with a disinterested stare.

“ma’am, i need to be excused from class today.”

“absolutely not.” she scoffed, “unless you want to fail my class, which i know you can’t afford to do, you’ll stay and do your lab.”

you opened your mouth to reply but she kept speaking.

“go put up your hair, roll up your sleeves and get your lab coat on. you should be thankful you have such a competent partner.” she crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair, “actually, i think the two of you should spend some time together. he’s my top student and you definitely need some tutoring.”

“i don’t think that’s necessary-“

“mr. suna, come up here please.”

suna walked up with a confused look, unsure as to why he was being brought in to the conversation.

“something i can help with?” he asked.

“yes,” the professor smiled, “i’d like the two of you to do tutoring sessions a minimum of twice a week, an hour each time. could you do that?”

“oh, sure. i don’t mind.” he smiled, “was that all? we should get to our assignment.”

you felt backed in to a wall. of course you were okay with this, you enjoyed spending time with suna.

unfortunately, you were terrified of the repercussions.

even worse, there was nothing you could do about it.

when you got back to your table, you put your hair up and silently thought of a plan. keep your head down, don’t make eye contact. maybe he wouldn’t notice.

you rolled up your sleeves and put on your white coat. it was barely long enough to hit your wrists, but did a decent job of hiding the bruises.

the first half of the lab went well. suna explained things in a way that made it easy to comprehend and you were genuinely enjoying yourself.

until you completely forgot.

you began to pour the green liquid into the tube. suna was writing his lab report when he looked up and noticed your mistake.

“oh, hey,” he stood up, putting his hand over yours to tilt the container back up. “you need to pour it slower, like this.”

when it started to pour just as he’d wanted, he let go and you found yourself missing the brief comfort of his touch.

“good job! you did it.” suna smiled and you looked up at him with an excited expression. finally. finally you were getting something right.

when the two of you made eye contact, his smile immediately dropped into a look of concern.

“what happened to your eye?”

“oh,” you stepped back, covering it with your hand. “i fell.”

suna carefully held onto your wrist and you winced in pain. his intentions were to move your hand away from your eye, but he took immediate notice of your reaction and pushed your sleeve down.

the bruises in the shape of fingerprints stained your skin a deep purple.

“what about here?” he stepped closer. you tried to read his expression but he looked completely emotionless.

“from the same fall, i’m just clumsy.”

“and your neck?”

suna pushed back your lab coat to see the same fingerprint bruises scattered around your neck.

you were suddenly thankful you’d chosen the table in the far back end of the classroom. nobody was ever watching.

“yeah.” you said, practically a whisper. “i’m just really clumsy.”

suna leaned down and looked into your eyes.

“why don’t i believe you?”

“five more minutes!” the professor called, interrupting your intense conversation and the two of you snapped back into action.

you finished your lab report and quickly packed up your stuff before rushing out the classroom door.

suna followed closely behind.

“it’s your boyfriend, isn’t it?”

you stopped dead in your tracks and turned around to look at him. suna’s expression was no longer emotionless. he was angry.

“okay,” you sighed, grabbing his wrist to pull him to a secluded space outside. the two of you sat down under a large tree, away from everyone else.

“yuji gets upset with me and… hurts me… sometimes.” you choked out. “i haven’t told anyone because i’m scared of what he’ll do to me. i haven’t left him because i’m scared of him. i’m stuck.”

you hadn’t said these words out loud to anyone, ever, and the way they were flowing so freely had you crying before you were even aware of it.

“please don’t tell anyo-“

“i’ll take care of it.”

you looked up at him. suna looked completely calm, his voice smooth and gaze held on you.

“what do you mean?”

suna stood up and ran his hands through his hair.

“i mean i’ll take care of it.” he smiled, “see you tomorrow afternoon for tutoring?”

“wait, suna-“

“later!” he gave you a passive wave before walking back towards the university building.

----♡----

that evening you waited for yuji to come by your dorm, but he never did.

you waited for him to call you, but he didn’t.

you worried about what suna had meant. maybe he was going to talk to him, maybe even threaten him. you’d hoped he wouldn’t do that, but you really didn’t know what he was capable of.

surely the rumours about him couldn’t be true. an honour's chemistry major being involved in a more sinister, underground group that nobody even knew if it was real or made up?

he was too nice. there was no way.

----♡----

after class you headed back to your dorm to get ready for your evening. suna had asked you to meet him under the same tree from the day before. around 7pm.

you debated on calling yuji, but ultimately decided against it. maybe he’d come to his senses. maybe he was remorseful, and just wanted to move on. to leave you alone and pretend your relationship never happened.

that was what you wished for the most.

----♡----

you stepped out into the cold evening air. the wind blowing softly and brushing the hair out of your face.

you clutched your books to your chest and took a short cut through the back fields separating the dorms from the main university campus.

you checked your phone, you were early. suna would be there in about 15 minutes.

you reached down to grab your phone when it was immediately snatched from your hands.

“you did this, didn’t you?” a familiar voice snapped at you. you glanced up to see yuji, sporting a similar black eye and a bandaged cut on his cheek.

“i- no, of course not!”

he rolled his eyes at your reply, clearly not willing to listen to a word you were saying. yuji grabbed your wrists, forcing you to drop your books and pushed you against the back wall of the university.

“you did. tell me right now. everything you said. who you said it to. and why.” the look in his eyes was horrifying. scarier than any other look he’s given you before.

this made it seem like his previous bouts of anger were nothing but minor inconveniences.

“i didn’t-“

yuji pulled back, immediately hitting your chin with a hard punch that knocked your head back into the concrete wall.

“try again.”

your vision was hazy. mind blurring memories together and you couldn’t even form a proper sentence.

you felt a warm, wet sensation cascading down the back of your neck and were immediately soothed by the feeling. the warmth was comfortable, even though you didn’t know what it was from.

yuji’s hand wrapped around your throat and he pressed his forehead to yours. his fingers dug roughly into your windpipe, causing you to choke out the remaining air in your lungs. you felt yourself get sleepy, closing your eyes and letting darkness overtake you as your body went limp.

----♡----

“hey, wake up.”

snapping fingers in your face had you looking around curiously. you couldn’t focus on your surroundings. it was unclear who was with you, unclear what was happening around you, and unclear why you were there.

the sounds of multiple men. grunting, panting. speaking quietly between deep breaths and harsh exertion.

what were they doing?

“hey.” the fingers snapped in front of your face again.

“what…” was all you could manage to say. your body felt heavy. weak. you were just so tired. all you wanted to do was fall asleep. you submitted to the exhaustion, closing your eyes again.

“don’t go to sleep.” a soothing voice lifted the back of your neck, pressing something soft against your head. “stay awake and listen to me.”

“ya like beatin’ up girls, huh?”

whack

“wanna put a girl half your size in the hospital, for what? to feel like more of a man?”

whack

“a real man would never hit a woman.”

whack

“a real man would beat the shit out of losers who do hit women, right ‘tsum?”

“right. maybe we’ll even put him in the hospital.”

whack

whack

“oh, he’s gonna be there once we’re done.”

you finally recognized the last voice. it was suna.

he spoke again, his voice raspy and dark but still audible from where you were.

“i hope to fucking god you didn’t hurt her so badly that she’s knocked out…” suna trailed off and let out a small chuckle. “because there’s nothing i want more than for her to hear you cry like a little bitch when this blade goes right…”

the sound of yuji’s sudden scream was immediately muffled by what you were sure was the hand of the other man.

“…through you.”

your eyes widened and you were starting to understand what was happening.

all you could feel around you was danger.

you started to hyperventilate. panic was taking over.

“focus on me. come on, we need to get out of here.”

“who…” your head started to hurt now. badly.

“my name is osamu.” he bent down and cradled you in his arms, bringing you close to his chest and picking you up bridal style. “hold on to me if you can.”

“i’m scared…” you whispered.

“i know.” he murmured, carrying you away from the scene and back through the field. “i’ll keep you safe. we need to go to the hospital.”

“what about…”

“the only thing you need to worry about is stayin’ awake right now, okay? it’ll all be okay.” osamu’s voice was soothing. his body was warm and his strong arms supported your body in a way that made you never want to leave his hold.

you gave him a weak nod. even if you wanted to get away, you couldn’t. so you decided to trust in this man and hope for the best.

----♡----

“hey, sweetheart.” the calm voice of a nurse slowly woke you up. “you’re finally awake.”

“where…” you choked out, your throat was dry and you could barely make out where you were. it was all so… confusing.

“you’re in the hospital.” she said as she stood on her tiptoes to change the fluids on your iv pole. “you were assaulted. your injuries aren’t good but you’ll make a full recovery.”

the nurse leaned back down and held onto your hand. “you have a real knight in shining armour, you know. your boyfriend hasn’t left your side since you were admitted. he’s going to be so happy when he finds out you woke up.”

boyfriend?

your heart started to race at the thought of yuji coming in. you looked around, preparing for the worst when you heard footsteps enter the room.

“hey, sleepyhead.”

“speak of the devil.” the nurse smiled, giving your hand a squeeze. “i’ll let you two have some privacy. please press the call button if you need anything, i’ll come back and check on you soon.”

the footsteps grew closer and you heard the squeak of a chair being pulled up next to your bed. you opened your eyes to see suna giving you a compassionate smile.

“rintaro?” you whispered, “what are you doing here?”

“making sure you’re okay.” he crossed his arms, “been here since you were admitted.”

you tried your hardest to remember even coming to the hospital, but you just couldn’t. everything was gone after your head hit that wall.

“what… happened?” you asked, your eyes pleading for him to be honest.

“someone attacked you and your boyfriend.” suna leaned in, “do you not remember anything?”

“i remember yuji being upset with me…” you blinked, your mind working as hard as it could to remember something of importance. “my head hit the wall and it’s kind of fuzzy after that.”

“i see.” suna nodded.

“wait, how did you know i was in here?”

“some people mentioned an attack on campus. i got worried when you were late for our study session, and when your phone rang and you didn’t answer i felt like something was up.” he shrugged, taking a moment to think of his next words. “i called the hospital and asked if you were here, and then came right over when they confirmed it.”

“oh. okay…” you went to scratch an itch on your scalp and were met with searing pain at the slightest bit of pressure. “ow!”

“careful.” he smiled, taking your hand away from your head. “it’s gonna be sore for a while.”

“yeah…” you trailed off, trying to make sense of the situation. “what happened to yuji?”

“why do you care?”

“huh?” you glanced at suna who’s expression had turned sour.

“why do you care about what happened to him? he could've killed you.”

“i just wanted to know if he…” your voice was shaky and you tried to compose yourself. “if there was a possibility of him coming after me again.”

“not a single chance.” suna leaned over the railing of the hospital bed and took your hand. “besides, even if there was, i won’t let anything happen to you.”

----♡----

you’d found out yuji had suffered from severe injuries almost taking his life. he was beaten, stabbed, and his spinal cord suffered so much damage he was permanently paralyzed from the waist down.

while you were relieved the abuse would be over, you constantly wondered who had assaulted him.

you remembered telling suna and him saying he’d take care of it, surely that wasn’t him, right? there was no way suna could do something like that.

----♡----

months went by while you recovered from your injuries. you’d been discharged from the hospital after 3 weeks, and suna had stuck by your side every day.

“i’m happy to say you’ve essentially made a full recovery.” the doctor smiled, shaking your hand. “i’m so proud of your progress. you’re truly a walking miracle.”

“what about my memory?” you asked, “when will i remember what happened?”

“oh, you might not ever remember. you hit your head hard and from what we gather, you were unconscious.” the doctor stood up, clutching his clip board before walking out. “it’s probably for the best that you don’t remember what happened. you should focus on moving on, now. take care.”

----♡----

“well, should we celebrate?” suna asked as you walked out of the hospital together. you stopped, causing him to turn and look down at you. “what’s up?”

“i just wanted to say thank you…” you said, feeling your face getting hot. “i don’t think i could’ve done this without you.”

“you could’ve. you’re the strongest person i’ve ever met.” he leaned down, brushing the hair out of your face. the same hair that used to cover the deep bruises, now showing your true complexion. “and the most beautiful.”

you felt your heart flutter at his sudden compliment. suna’s hands found your waist and you instinctively draped your arms over his shoulders.

“you really mean that?” you asked, looking into his eyes.

“of course i do.” he smiled, leaning in to give you the long awaited kiss the two of you had been dying for. his lips were soft and you melted into his arms. he pulled away, resting his forehead on yours. “beautiful in every possible way.”

you felt tears well up as you were being complimented. the sweetest, kindest, most handsome man touching you so delicately and speaking to you with nothing but respect.

you'd completely fallen in love with him, and it was everything you ever could’ve asked for.

----♡----

a few weeks after the two of you made it official, your honeymoon phase was in full force. you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. you were experiencing your first true relationship that made you feel loved and you cherished at every moment.

one evening, you decided to go to suna’s dorm to surprise him.

knock knock

“rintaro?” you called out, opening the door to let yourself in. “are you home?”

“in here, baby.” he replied from the kitchen. he was sharing an apartment style dorm with two other men, but you hadn’t met them yet. they weren’t ever there when you were.

“we finally get to meet your girl, huh?” one of them cooed as you walked in. he had dyed blonde hair and smirked at you as you walked by. “damn, she’s a looker, huh ‘samu?”

samu… why did that sound familiar?

“don’t be such a pig.” the other boy replied. you realized they were twins when he stood up and walked over to you. he smiled, holding out his hand. “nice to meet ya, i’m osamu.”

osamu.

no.

“my name is osamu…”

it couldn’t be.

“…hold on to me if you can.”

no, no, no.

the memories of the night of the assault came flooding back to you.

it only took a moment to realize...

...it wasn’t a random assault at all.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Season 16 (Part 1)

Summary: After being captured by Michael while Dean was under his control, the reader has spent a very long time locked away waiting for someone to come and find her. When the day finally comes that the door opens, it’s not a familiar face she’s greeted with. Somehow the impossible is standing right in front of her but there’s no time to think about that. Something is terribly wrong and the reader needs the help of this strange young man if she wants to stop what Michael’s put in motion and have a chance at seeing Dean alive again...

Masterlist

Pairing: Dean x reader

Square: Free Space

Word Count: 3,600ish

Warnings: language, SPN season 15 and series spoilers, injury, mention of main character deaths, mention of torture, angst, fluff

A/N: This series takes place post season 15 and follows canon (i.e. if it happened in the show, it happened in this story’s universe). This series is told between the reader and Dean’s POV. This was also written for @supernatural-jackles​ Tell Me A Story bingo!

________

Reader’s POV

You just about had a heart attack when the door opened. It’d been such a long time since it’d been opened. Years and years and years. You’d lost track of the days quickly but it was long enough for you to accept that it’d been a very long time. Long enough to accept that when Michael took over Dean and threw you down in the windowless little room, Dean didn’t win that fight.

The only thing keeping you going aside from the spell Michael had put up to keep you permanently trapped, body stuck in time, was the desire to save Dean. Or what was left of him. You’d been alone for years, body having taken a beating by Michael when he first captured you. You were still covered in bruises, broken ribs that wouldn’t heal, pain in every breath. You didn’t sleep, didn’t eat. Solitude, cut off from the world, that was your main form of torture. Dean though...who knew what hell he was going through trapped with a psychopath like that for all these years.

You readied yourself, a dark figure walking inside the room. The room was pitch black to a certain point before you were trapped under a bright light you’d yet to figure out how to turn off. The figure stopped as their feet hit the brightness, a pair of brown boots and slim dark jeans all you could make out. They mumbled something and you felt the air shift slightly. You dared to reach at hand out to where the invisible wall keeping you trapped had been.

Your hand waved right on through it and you suddenly felt cool, clean air hit you. The person jolted when you sprang up, running away as you bolted for the door. You followed them up a flight of stairs and straight out into the foyer of a very nice house. You could see it was a man now and tackled him, straddling his hips and grabbing your knife from your waistband of your loose shorts, holding it to his throat. He breathed hard as you stared at him, cocking your head.

He was the spitting image of Dean. Mostly. His eyes weren’t green and there was something about his nose that reminded you of your own. The biggest tell of all though was the genuine fear in his face, the confusion. 

“What’s your name,” you said. You held up the knife for a moment and tucked it away when you saw he was only focused on it. The young man, no more than twenty years old, took a deep breath. You yelped when he threw his legs up and wrapped them around your waist, yanking you off of him. He scrambled to his feet but you were on his tail, grabbing at his jacket. He spun around and popped you in the face, sending you to the floor.

You whined and cupped your cheek, the young man frozen in the doorway with a horrified look on his face.

“Who punches their own mom!” you shouted. He ran out the door and you went after, growling at your bare feet as he took off down the gravel driveway. “I’m gonna find you!”

You stomped your foot on the cool concrete front path, glancing to your right and spotting a sports car. You jogged back inside and found a pair of women’s sneakers, a little too big but you tied them tight and found some keys on a front table. 

About two minutes later you were pulling up beside the guy on the road and hopped out of the car, the man running into the nearby treeline. You pulled out your knife and threw it, catching his jacket and pinning the sleeve to the tree trunk. He stumbled and fell down as you walked over, staring up with wide eyes. You sighed and ran a hand over your face. 

“Can you at least tell me your first name?” you asked. He shook his head and you crossed your arms. “I bet your name is Lyle, isn’t it.”

“How’d you know that?” he asked, voice a bit higher than Dean’s but it made you smile, something warm and familiar to it.

“I’ve had a lot of time to think recently. Lyle is my top name for a boy if I ever had one,” you said. “So. Lyle Winchester.”

“That’s not my name,” he said. He stood up and pulled out the knife, carefully holding it out to you.

“You look just like Dean and me. You’re my son...somehow,” you said.

“Fine. My name is Lyle and that’s all I can say about myself,” he said. “I’m serious.”

You recognized the tone, that edge to it, the roughness but laced with an undercurrent of worry. Part of you wanted him to tell you everything about him but you knew he couldn’t, instead letting yourself give him a simple nod.

“I’ll make you a deal Lyle. I won’t ask questions about you that you can’t answer if you tell me how and why you got me out of there and answer anything else I want to know about this little situation.”

“Or else what?” he scoffed.

“Or else someday when you’re a teenager I won’t let you do anything. Lyle.” You took the knife from him and put it away, taking a deep breath. You stepped back out to the road, leaning against the car. You shut your eyes, something heavy draped over you. You peeled one eye open, Lyle leaning back against the car next to you in a blue flannel and dark gray t-shirt. His black hooded jacket was over your shoulders and you slipped your arms through the sleeves, wrapping them around yourself. You squeezed your eyes tight, shuddering before warm arms embraced you, Lyle almost as tall as Dean holding you close to him. “How did you know I was down there?”

“I can’t answer that,” he said.

“What year is it?” you asked.

“2089.” You froze, staring up at him. “Well, 2089 where we are right now is.”

“Lyle. It was 2018 when Michael took me. That’s not possible.”

“I can’t answer that either.” Tears welled up in your eyes and he hugged you again. “Sorry.”

“Dean was thirty nine the last time I saw him and it’s seventy one years later? He is dead. Sam is dead. They’re all dead so explain to me how the fucking hell I have a son with Dean!” you shouted. You pushed him away and ran your hands over your face. “Years. Fucking years I’ve sat down there waiting for him to come and get me. Him or Sam or someone. Fucking seventy one years!”

“Y/N,” he said, sounding a bit awkward but he cleared his throat. “I can’t answer everything because I don’t know everything. But I exist and that should tell you something.”

You wiped off your face with his sleeve and looked around, turning back and staring at him.

“I’m at the start of whatever this is and you’re way down the line,” you said. He nodded with a slight smile.

“I don’t understand it but this, where I’m from, this has already happened to you.”

“You’re from the future then,” you said.

“Not exactly,” he said. 

“A different universe?” He looked at you like you were nuts and the air shifted, Lyle freezing. You turned and saw Jack, a smile on his face. “Jack?”

“Hi Y/N,” he said. He stepped over and gave you a big hug, a little bit of ache inside you easing finally. “Don’t worry about him. He’s just on pause.”

“Jack I don’t understand fucking anything. What’s going on?” you asked. He pursed his lips and sighed.

“Well you already figured out Lyle is your and Dean’s son. I didn’t think I could slip that one past you. But it had to be him that came and saved you.”

“Why?”

“Dean’s in heaven. Has been for 69 years.” You broke away from him feeling like you’d had a punch to gut and making you breathless. “I probably shouldn’t have told you that with the whole decades worth of trauma thing happening right now.”

“Did Michael…” you trailed off.

“No. A piece of rebar on a vamp hunt,” he said.

“He what?” you said.

“Yeah got pushed back on it. Sam was okay though. Oh and Dean had a dog for a few months.”

“Dean fucking died from that? That’s what kept him down?” you said. Jack nodded and you looked down, blinking your eyes. “Disregarding what is going on in my head right now about that, why didn’t you heal him? Or Castiel?”

“Well Cas was in heaven helping me rebuild after he sort of died and I brought him back. I kinda am the new God,” he said with a smile.

“I’m proud of that but again, why didn’t you come down here and heal Dean?”

“I’m sort of hands off in that regard,” he said. You were about to go off on him for that when it hit you.

“Jack how long have you known I was alive,” you said. 

“2020 when I took over, I got these extra-”

“You knew I was alive and  left me in a hole in the ground for over seventy years?” you said. 

“Like I said, I’m hands off,” he said. 

“I was your fucking mom! I took care of you! I protected you! I almost died for you more than once and when you find out I’m still alive you say fuck that bitch, she can deal with it on her own? What the fuck is wrong with you!” you shouted. You slapped him in the face, Jack pouting as you sank down to your knees. “I want Dean.”

“Y/N.”

“I want Dean and Sam.”

“Y/N-”

“I want Dean!”

“I can’t-”

“Fuck you! You’re as every bit as evil as that devil father of yours after all,” you said. You forced yourself to your feet, tears prickling in his eyes. “Oh did I hurt your feelings? Tough fucking shit! Do you realize that I have not only been stuck waiting for years but my body got stuck too. I’ve been sitting with broken ribs for seventy years. Every single breath excruciating.”

You yanked up your shirt, deep purple and black skin radiating across most of your abdomen. Jack reached out a hand and you moved back, dropping your shirt.

“I thought you were hands off. I don’t want your-” you said before warmth trickled through you, the pain gone, body feeling so strange at being without it. 

“I don’t have to touch to heal you,” he said quietly. He swallowed and bowed his head. “I tried to let people live their lives without my interference and sometimes they’re messy but I’ve come to realize recently that’s wrong. A bit of help here and there is good. It gives people hope and maybe I should have done things different.”

“My family’s dead and I don’t want to wait around decades more to see them again in heaven. You’re going to-”

“No I won’t. Lyle’s life counts on you doing exactly what you’re supposed to as do your two other children’s. I can’t just put you in heaven. You can’t die right and you have to wait to see Dean until things work themselves out. Lyle’s going to be with you for a while and help get some things settled. It’s already set in motion so go with it,” he said.

“Jack I want Dean. Please,” you said. “Please Jack. Just five minutes.”

“Would you rather have your family back in the near future, alive, or would you rather have your and Dean’s souls torn apart and you never see him again, dead or alive? Rather he over there doesn’t exist? Rather no one exists?”

“I didn’t say that. Of course I would rather have them back alive-“

“Then be patient.”

“Jack. You gotta give me something. Something please.”

“I’ll talk to Lyle, tell him he can loosen up some. But I can’t tell you what to do. You have to follow your gut. Listen to Lyle and it’ll work out,” said Jack. You squeezed your eyes shut, Jack carefully resting a hand on your shoulder. “Do you hate me?”

“I hate that our family was ripped apart. I hate that you didn’t tell the boys I was alive once you knew. I hate that the last time I saw Dean alive we argued. I think what I hate most of all is that you treated us like everyone else. We’re not, Jack. We’re your family. All of us deserved a chance at normal and we didn’t get it.”

“Sam did.”

“How many years did Sam live without us? Without his brother?” you asked. Jack glanced down and you nodded. “You said you became God? Why didn’t you get rid of the monsters altogether Jack. Don’t tell me you don’t have that power.”

“I thought...I thought it was the natural order.”

“Yet you know there are other universes with no monsters at all. You could have taken the monsters away. Shit turn them human for all I care. The boys didn’t have to keep hunting after you took over. You could have been hands off and changed that one fact and saved so many lives, improved so many lives.”

“No. I couldn’t have changed it. Not back then.”

“Why the hell not?” you asked. He pulled his hand away and you found yourself in some clean clothes, Lyle’s jacket folded on top of the car.

“Because when I became God, I learned a lot. It sucks knowing that certain things have to happen and that I had to ignore when Sam prayed to me in that barn because things had to happen this way.”

“But why?”

“Because if I didn’t, if I’d intervened then and there, this universe, all of the ones I’ve been busy rebuilding, the way I’ve been rebuilding heaven...it’d be gone. Destroyed and I wouldn’t be able to put it back. It’s a temporary pain even if it doesn’t seem like it. So please, Y/N, please, listen to Lyle. Work with him. It’ll work out and things can be okay. You can have everything you ever wanted and more. You can have the freaking apple pie life and the no monsters and all of it but please understand you have more shit to go through first and whatever happens, do not let Lyle die.”

“He’s my son. I wouldn’t let that happen to him,” you said. Jack nodded and you grabbed his arm when he turned to leave. “You’ve grown up Jackie.”

“I’m still a baby by God standards,” he said.

“The guys take care of you after I was gone?” you asked. 

“Yeah. I missed you though,” he said. “I accidentally killed Mary and sort of lost my soul for a bit. Things got bad for a while.”

“Do you see Kelly in heaven sometimes? Mary?” you asked. He nodded and you smiled. “Kids can fuck up and your parents will forgive you.”

“I’m sorry it has to be this way, Y/N. If I could snap my fingers to fix it all, stop it from ever happening, I would.”

“I’m going to trust that it had to be this way,” you said. “But give me a ballpark figure here. When do I get the guys back?”

“That’s relative. You’re going to end up breaking the space time continuum so it’s hard to answer that correctly.” You stared at him and he shrugged. “Not too long. A few days at most. I promise.”

“Wait is that how we have a twenty year old son?” you asked.

“Yes. The next time you see Dean he’ll be younger than the last you saw him. Just trust your gut and Lyle. Next time I see you I hope things are much better,” he said. You opened your mouth but he disappeared. You shook your head and turned around, Lyle now wearing his jacket, standing closer to the passenger seat door. For a long while you both simply stared, Lyle looking as if he’d just had his own long conversation with Jack. 

“You can call me Y/N if that makes it easier,” you said. He nodded and you took a deep breath, going to the driver’s side. “So. What’s the next move?”

“Jack just said after I got you out we had to go to Lebanon. He didn’t tell me anything more than that,” he said.

“Any idea where we are?” you asked.

“San Antonio,” he said. “So we go North?”

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “Mind taking the first shift driving? I sort of haven’t slept in like seventy years.”

“No that’s fine,” he said. He walked around the front and you made your way to the passenger side, climbing in and sighing. He got behind the wheel and took a deep breath. “You and dad run a construction business.”

“That’s nice,” you said, smiling to yourself. “Dean’d be real good at that kind of thing. He’s really smart.”

“I know. Most guys can’t call up their dad for help on their architecture homework,” he said. 

“You go to college?” you asked, Lyle nodding. “Do you know about...this stuff?”

“I’m still not convinced I’m not insane. I just got home on a friday night. We had dinner and everyone went outside to have a bonfire in the backyard. I went in to use the bathroom and Uncle Jack stopped me before I could get back outside. He said a lot of crazy stuff I didn’t believe but the fact you were in that basement...you and dad are only like forty but you’re obviously too old right now to have had me when that would have made sense and Uncle Jack said space and time is gonna break and-”

“Lyle,” you said, holding up a hand. “Relax. I just want to know, do you know what hunting is?”

“Dad doesn’t go hunting,” he said, narrowing his eyes. You smiled and nodded to yourself. “We don’t even own a gun.”

“I doubt that. But that must mean that something happens to the monsters along the way too.”

“What do you mean monsters? And why were you kidnapped in a basement? And what the fuck is going on? You’re supposed to be my mom that runs the family business and you kick ass in your soccer league in the summer and you can’t cook to save your life and that’s okay cause you’re really good at baking and pies and shit and I just don’t understand who you really are.” His face was flush, eyes fighting back tears. You smiled, reaching over and cupping his cheek.

“You’re a good guy Lyle. We obviously did something right,” you said, wiping away a stray tear that fell. “It’s scary. It’s really scary. I’m not your mom yet but I will be someday. I promise I will tell you everything you don’t know when I catch up to your time. Dean and I will. But we need to go to Lebanon and the faster we can go there and figure out what we have to do, the faster we can get you back home where you belong.”

“But can’t you-”

“This world isn’t safe, Lyle. It is very unsafe for a Winchester especially. Please drive now,” you said. You put on your seatbelt and he closed his eyes. “Please.”

“I was supposed to be having a smore right now,” he said.

“I know. But saving the world is kinda cool,” you said. 

“I don’t want to save the world. I want to go home and not see my mom be beat to shit. I want my dad to go back to teasing me at dinner and not being dead,” he said. 

“If we do this right, you can go back to that really soon. It hasn’t happened for me yet. We can talk all about this when you come back. The night you come back we can talk through it all. But we have to get going. The sooner we go, the sooner it goes back to normal.”

“It’ll never be normal again.”

“Yes it will. I promise.”

“How do you-“

“Because I just had this really bad thing happen to me but someday I’m going to have you and everything I ever wanted with Dean. So it sucks right now but it’ll be better eventually. I know it will. You’re here so I know it’ll be normal.” He nodded and wiped off his face, starting the car up again.

“Y/N. Are you okay after...you know...being down there beat up all that time?”

“Not really,” you said. He took off his jacket and handed it to you. You stared before he rolled his eyes, laying it over your front.

“Sleep. I can drive.”

“Lyle.”

“Y/N. Rest. It’s safe. I got this.”

“You take after your dad.”

“Take after someone else too,” he said. You smiled and nodded, resting your head on your shoulder, closing your eyes. “I’ll wake you up for breakfast.”

“Egg and-”

“Cheese on a biscuit, two breakfast burritos, extra hot sauce and a small hot latte.”

“At least my road trip order didn’t change,” you said, quickly relaxing and falling asleep for the first time in ages.

_______

A/N: Read part 2 here!

[mandos-sluts]

The Payment

The Mandolorian x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Wordcount: 2.8k

Warnings: Smut, fingering, vibrator usage, bondage, dubious consent

Summary: The Mandalorian detains your criminal boyfriend you barter for his release

A/N: Please message us or comment if you want to be on our tag list!!

You’ve been tailing the Mandalorian for about half a mile, keeping a long enough distance behind him so that he doesn’t know he’s being followed. He and his bounty finally reach his ship and enter the open hatch. Once he disappears behind the walls, you sprint to the ship and tip toe up the ramp. You’re lucky he didn’t close the door as soon as they entered.

“Let him go.” You say holding a blaster in the air with two hands. It’s pointed directly at the Mandalorian’s back. He jumps and turns around quickly, reaching for his blaster on his hip. Once he lays his eyes on you, however, his stance relaxes and his hands fall back to his sides.

“Who are you?” The Mandalorian sighs in annoyance.

“Let. Him. Go.” You say as confidently as you can, staring him down, arms straight out in front of you. Why isn’t he alert? Why isn’t he trying to get you to drop your blaster? Ugh, why isn’t he intimidated by you?

“He your boyfriend or something?” He returns casually.

“I’ll say this one more time.” You state slowly. “Let him go, or I will shoot you.” Your arms begin to shake.

“Listen sweetheart, your little boyfriend is already in carbonite, and I'm wearing beskar, so good luck shooting me.” The Mandalorian says in a condescending tone.

You lower your blaster in irritation. This is not at all what you had envisioned this playing out. You thought he would at least be semi threatened by you?

“How much do you want for him?” You ask bluntly.

The Mandalorian let out a chuckle.

“Come on.” You say.  “The bounty on his head can’t be that high. How much do you want?” You honestly weren’t even certain the exact reason for the bounty. It was probably embezzlement or fraud or something involving the illegal methods he used to amass his wealth.

The Mandalorian is barely paying attention to you. He’s unloading and his blaster, or organizing his blasters, or doing some trivial task in his weapons armory. “I’m not gonna let him go, I don’t care how much money you offer.” The Mandalorian says without lifting his head. “But consider yourself lucky.” He turns to look at you. “Now you can go off and find yourself a real man. Someone who can actually satisfy you.” He turns back to whatever it is he was doing.

“Excuse me?” You say, crossing your arms. The Mandalorian doesn’t respond or look up, and you stand there in silence for a moment. “Not that it’s any of your concern, but my boyfriend satisfies me just fine. Now...how about two thousand credits.” You ask awkwardly.

“That pretty boy?” He asks pointing at the carbonite chamber, not acknowledging your offer. “Ha. The fight he tried to put up was laughable. There’s no way he can fuck you good.” The Mandalorian says with ease. “Which is a shame, because you seem like you need a good fuck.”

“I–”

“I’m gonna depart now.” He cuts you off. “So unless you wanna go to Nevarro, I’d get off my ship.” His voice is deep and unsympathetic.

Who does this Mandalorian think he is? Why does he think he knows anything about your relationship? You feel like you should feel insulted, but it’s your boyfriend he’s insulting, not you. In a fucked up way, he is sort of complimenting you– implying that you deserve better than your boyfriend. You have a feeling the Mandalorian knows exactly what he was doing.

You open your mouth but pause for a moment, unsure of how to proceed. “Five thousand credits.” Is all that you can think to say.

“Little girl.” The Mandalorian exhales. “Your credits are worthless to me.” He says peering at you. “...but...” He pauses as he considers if he actually wants to do this. The Mandalorian is a highly respected professional bounty hunter after all, and proposing this kind of trade is anything but professional. Yet at the same time, you are one of the most beautiful women he has ever seen; he’s never wanted to fuck someone more. And he just apprehended your pathetic and weak boyfriend, he knows you haven’t been properly taken care of. He knows he can take you to a level you’ve never been to before and give you the best pleasure you’ve ever felt. That concept in and of itself fills the Mandalorian with arousal.

“...but perhaps we could arrange a different form of payment.” He says taking big, slow steps closer to you. *see gif*

“….A different form?” You say hesitantly as he continues to approach you. You can’t believe what you are hearing. You’re well aware of the reputations that Mandalorians boast, and you would never guess that one of them would propose something so risqué. To be honest, you’d be lying if you said that a small part of you wasn’t really turned on by the situation at hand. The Mandalorian was the opposite of your boyfriend. Sure, your boyfriend was conventionally handsome, but he is cocky while the Mandalorian is confident. The Mandalorian is big, strong, and tough, and your boyfriend has been waited on his entire life.

You’re frozen where you stand and your heart is racing as the Mandalorian creeps into your personal space. He puts his gloved hand on the bottom of your chin and pulls your head up so that you’re looking directly into his visor.

“Let me fuck you, and I’ll let this loser boyfriend of yours go.” The Mandalorian says in the deepest, sexist voice you’ve ever heard. But snap out of it! Your attraction to him doesn’t matter. You’re here to save your boyfriend.

“Fine.” You say, trying your best to project a neutral demeanor. “But I’m not going to pretend to enjoy it.”

The Mandalorian lets go of you and presses a button on the wall. “You won’t need to.” He says removing his gloves as the hatch closes. He sits on a bench and leans back, spreading his legs. He has an unmistakably large bulge that he’s not at all trying to hide. His arms stretch out on either side of him to rest on the back of the bench. You’re standing a few feet away from where he sits, and his helmet is glued to your image.

“Take off your clothes.” He commands in a flat modulated voice.

Your heart has fallen to your stomach. The idea of this was hot, but now that it’s actually happening, you’re terrified. What have you gotten yourself into? Why would you agree to have sex with a Mandalorian? Mandalorians are ruthless. They are feared across the galaxy for a reason!

You shake with fear as you struggle to get your shoes, pants, and shirt off your body. You discard your clothes on the cold metal floor and are left standing in just your tiny thong.

The Mandalorian stares at you for what seems like forever. “C’mere.” He says sitting up straight.

You walk over to him and he pulls you to stand in between his legs. You look down at him with what you hope is a poker face. He runs his bare hands all over you. His hands are so big wrapped around your waist, you feel like he could snap you in two. He gropes your ass and your tits and pulls you even closer. Your skin is so frikin smooth against his rough hands, and the Mandalorian can’t get enough of it.

“Fuck.” He spits out. “You’re so fuckin sexy. I can’t believe you settle for such a coward. He must be loaded or something.” He maneuvers one of your legs over his.

“Why you with him, huh?” He asks in a patronizing tone.

“None–”

“Doesn’t matter.” He interrupts. “I’m gonna show you what you’re missing.” He says as he lifts his thigh to meet your crotch. He begins rubbing his thigh between your legs, and the friction against your clit feels amazing. You bite your bottom lip to stop yourself from letting out a little pathetic moan.

He removes one of his hands from your butt and brings it to his belt. All of the sudden, he clasps handcuffs on you, binding your hands in front of your body. Your body tenses up. “What are you doing?!” You exclaim. Any arousal you had is now overridden by fear. If you were nervous before, you are petrified now. The panic you feel is written all over your face.

“Don’t worry, little girl.” The Mandalorian says in a low, soothing voice. “I’m not gonna hurt you.” He says as rubs your cheek with the back of his hand. Then, he abruptly stands up and throws you over his shoulder.

“Ah!!” You scream. That’s it, you’re pretty sure you’re gonna die. He carries you deeper into the ship. Your ass is in the air, and your handcuffed hands are swinging down by the Mandalorian’s legs. “Wha– what are you doing?! Where are you taking me?!” You shout as distress pulses through your veins.

Without responding, he enters a room, and gently lays you down on a bed. Then he reaches over you and attaches your handcuffs to the head of the bed frame. You lie on the bed with your hands bound and stretched up above your head, completely naked except your panties. The Mandalorian loosens the handcuffs and lengthens the cord between your hands so as to spread your hands further apart from each other.

You take a deep breath and begin to feel a little bit better. Although the position he’s put you in screams danger, you for some reason feel safe with him. Your body still trembles, though.

The Mandalorian can sense your unease. “Relax, pretty girl.” He says with his modulated voice. He’s standing on his knees with one of your legs between his on the bed. “I told you I wouldn’t hurt you. Just breath.” He says quietly as his hands travel down your sides. He alternates between softly caressing and aggressively kneading your body. The way he’s touching you, the way his visor is swallowing every part of your body, it makes you wet. You feel so small as he kneels over you, you can hear his breathing, and you can tell he’s holding back.

The Mandalorian is holding back. He can tell that you’re scared and shy, and he knows you’re inexperienced, so he’s trying his best to be gentle. He’s restraining himself from treating you like the whores he fucks the shit out of in brothels. The Mandalorian scoots back and runs one of his hands up your thigh before dancing his fingers on your clothed cunt.

“Fuck. You’re already leaking through your panties.” He spits looking up at you. You say nothing in response and try to give off an uninterested look. The Mandalorian moves your thong to the side, exposing your glistening pussy. “What a pretty little cunt you have.” He says as he drags his fingers through your wet folds.

The feeling of his fingers trailing through your pussy sends shocks through your body. You let out a high-pitched breath and bite your lip to stifle any more from escaping your lips. You really don’t want to give the Mandalorian the satisfaction.

The Mandalorian slyly reaches under the bed and grabs a small, roundish cylinder-shaped object of metal, of which you could tell is beskar. He gently pushes your thighs apart, and repositions himself in between them, your legs laying flat on the bed. He flips a switch on the object and it begins vibrating. He brings it to your groin and starts circling the vibrator on your clit.

You gasp and bring your knees into the air and plant your feet on the bed. Your back arches and your legs impulsively open up wider, almost inviting the Mandalorian in for more. You can’t even attempt to look inexpressive anymore. Your breathing picks up and your exhales are laced in moans. His other hand is on your thigh, and his thumb is stroking your skin. You close your eyes.

“Open your eyes. And keep them on me.” The Mandalorian orders, squeezing your thigh. He wants you to be looking at him as you come apart at his will. He wants you to see the things he’s doing to your pussy. He wants you to have to face the fact that he is bringing you such immense pleasure. The Mandalorian flips another switch and the object begins vibrating faster. You clench your teeth down on your bottom lip as you try to keep your moans as small as possible. Your pussy is so wet you can hear its gushing sounds over the vibrating.

“You like that?” He asks.

“N–no...” You respond. You wish that was true. It should be true. You’re handcuffed to a bed on a dirty old ship, forced let this vulgar Mandalorian fuck you to save your boyfriend. You should not be liking it.

He scoffs. “Your mouth is telling me one thing, but your pussy is telling me another.” Your denial of the obvious truth just turns on the Mandalorian even more. He loves watching your pathetic struggle to hide and contain your reactions. It makes him all the more determined to break you; he loves a good challenge.

Keeping the vibrator on your clit, he teases your entrance with his middle finger before pushing it inside of you. “Fuck.” You mutter out between breathy moans as he starts thrusting his long thick finger in and out of your hole.

“Of course you’re tight as shit.” The Mandalorian says under his breath. “Tell me, baby girl, have you ever cum?” He asks in his deep voice.

“I– I don’t know.” You respond as he continues pumping his finger and circling your clit with the vibrator. Frankly, you didn’t even know if you could cum. You know that it's possible for women to orgasm– you’ve heard your friends speak about it before. But you're fairly certain you’ve never cum before.

“Awww, poor girl.” He says in an arrogant tone. An “I don’t know” is a “no” and both of you know it.

Suddenly, he starts circling your clit and thrusting you even faster. He adds another finger and this just about sends you over the edge.

Alright, you don’t have the energy to pretend anymore; you’re over trying to put on this charade, which you know isn’t fooling him. Now all you care about is chasing this high you’re feeling creeping into your pussy. Your body has never felt this way before, you can feel the pleasure pulsing in your cunt. Your heaving breathing is now unapologetic moans.

You can tell you’re approaching a climax. Your legs are twitching and your back is arching so much. But then the Mandalorian begins slowing things down, though still persisting.

“Plea–Please.” You moan out, looking at him with puppy dog eyes. If you could, you would grab his arm and guide him to finger you faster, but your hands are still bound above your head.

“Please what?” The Mandalorian inquires. “You want me to stop? Or you want me to keep going? Be a good girl and use your words.”

You wrap your legs around him. “Keep going. Harder. Fas–Faster. Please!”

The Mandalorian lets out a satisfied grunt as he grabs one of your legs and brings it on his shoulder, opening your pussy up even more and affording him a better angle. He cranks up the vibrator’s speed and his two fingers pump you with unmatched rapidity. Your mouth is open wide as your chest heaves. Your eyes fall shut as you can feel your orgasm on the horizon.

“I said, eyes on me.” The Mandalorian orders with a stern voice. “I want you looking at me while you cum for the first time.” You force your eyes open and glue them on his visor.

He watches you scream out and come apart on his hand. “Ahhh!! Mando! Fu– fuck ahhh yes Mando! Yes!!” You cry, maintaining eye contact with his visor. Your entire body is shaking as your orgasm rips through you, a sensation you’ve never felt before.

“Good girl.” He says, pushing a strand of hair out of your face. “You look so pretty when you cum.”

“Mando, I– I want your cock.” You stutter out, coming down from your orgasm.

“Oh yeah?” He asks caressing your thigh.

“Can you let my hands go, please?” You ask in the most begging-little-girl-voice you can.

The Mandalorian sighs out. “Sure...You’ve been a good girl.” He says taking your handcuffs off. You bring your hands down and sit up while you move your hair behind your ears. You take a deep breath and move your hand down to cup his bulge. You’re so turned on that you’ve completely forgotten why you’re here. All you want to do is release the Mandalorian’s cock and pleasure him the same way he did to you.

TO BE CONTINUED

The Payment Part Two

**********************************

Masterlist

**********************************

Taglist:

@pinkninja200 @raspberrymama @stevie75

[solomonish]

selfless (to a fault?) [demon brothers]

CW: allusions to past toxic relationships. minor description of injury in beel’s. belphie’s is a bit sad (happy ending! just melancholic vibes) and alludes to chapter 16.

no problem nonnie! i hope this is to your liking <3

nowdateables: here!

---

Lucifer

Honestly, he'd be a tough one to get to allow you to do anything for him. You know, the whole avatar of pride thing….and he also just generally has a habit of holding the weight of the world on his shoulders. He thinks - no, he knows he can handle everything on his own

If he's letting you in enough to help him - not only trusting you enough to think the tasks he delegates to you will be done to his liking, but allowing you to help and opening up the possibility that he might be risking his image of perfection - he can only expect you'll let him do the same for you. It's like your own special love language, right?

He does NOT like how jumpy you are about the subject. At first, he's miffed. Do you not think he can do the task to your liking? Has he given off the false impression that he cannot take any more work than he already has? Was your offer to help not based on affection, but pity??? It really ruffles his feathers.

He's the type to confront you head-on. At first, his voice is harsh because he's talked himself into thinking you've offended him, but when you start backing away and trying to dodge the conversation, apologies falling from your mouth about how the last thing you wanted to do was upset him, he softens. He doesn’t understand yet, but something is upsetting you and he intends to get to the bottom of it.

Not one who would pester you about opening up to him, but the sooner you do, the more of a show of good faith it is. He’ll trust your word entirely regardless, but it does a lot to soothe the upset of his own creation if you come back to explain sooner rather than later. After all, being vulnerable is perhaps Lucifer’s greatest show of love - it does not go unnoticed when you do the same.

Doing his best to talk through a solution is act of kindness #1 - and it helps you adjust a little since you worked with him rather than completely handed him the reins. He starts off his own plan to help you out by bringing in things he was already going to do for himself - offering you coffee when he gets his own, for example. He uses the fact that you’d feel bad for refusing against you for a little bit, but he means well!

You might notice him going softer on you for just a little bit - don’t say anything about it. He’s worried that he gave off the impression of using things against you because of how much of a disciplinarian he is. Besides, the two of you normally don’t get into arguments (he doesn’t have the time to let things simmer - if he’s that upset about something, he’ll try to address it immediately), so he doesn’t really know how else to change his behavior. He just hopes that allowing you the opportunity to open up to him again, should you need it, will alleviate the feeling that he’d ever use your kindness against you.

Mammon

The first time you stiffened up after he tried to help you, he thought you were crazy. Lucifer had just given you a punishment for one of his schemes that you took the fall for (and he still isn’t sure why Lucifer let you take the fall when it was obviously Not You), and you insisted that you could do it by yourself! He wasn’t too keen on cleaning every window in the House of Lamentation himself, so he left soon after placing the offer, but his time was spent mindlessly wondering about you.

The next time was shortly after, when you came into his room and crashed on his bed. He offered you a hand massage, although he did it in a very muttered voice with dark cheeks - and you said no again! Forget being offended that the romantic hand-holding idea he totally didn’t get from a magazine he was reading waiting for you (that would’ve somehow ended in disaster anyway) wouldn’t play out - he was getting worried.

He doesn’t bring anything up immediately, but he worries about you and watches you intently. Sometimes you’ll catch him staring at you, and he flips out when you ask him what’s up. The only clue Mammon gathers is that you don’t seem to be angry with him, so what’s up? He’s used to his backwards advances working against him, but he’s making a genuine effort here!

He finally gets pent up in his frustration and asks you head-on. Mammon isn’t known for his tact - “Oi, why won’t you just let me take over once in a while? Cut yerself a break, MC!” - but there’s a certain...desperate tinge to his voice that makes you realize he really does care (and is driving himself crazy trying to figure things out on his own). When you DO finally tell him, he sort of deflates and his voice goes to that softer, more genuine tone.

“H-hey, I would never do that kind of thing to ya…” He starts shuffling in place, kicking at rocks (if there are any) and you realize he kinda looks like a kid. “You do so much for everyone, and it makes me feel real good inside. I just wanna make you feel that, too. Besides, we don’t need TWO cranky workaholics in the house. Lucifer is plenty.”

He knows one moment of honesty isn’t going to fix your entire way of thinking, but he goes right back to his blatant offers after that. Maybe if he desensitizes you to it, you’ll feel less weird about accepting his help! It doesn’t work, so he shifts to little things. Catch him running across classrooms as soon as you’re dismissed so he can grab your textbooks to carry for you off the desk before you can. 

Once he realizes you’re more receptive to him helping you, he’s ready to breathe a sigh of relief and be annoying about it again. Generosity doesn’t come easy to him, okay? Besides, he’s The Great Mammon! You should’ve known he’d be better than any other guy you’ve been with!

Leviathan

Of COURSE you wouldn’t want someone like him to help you out. He’d probably mess it up, anyway…

Seriously, Leviathan is very sensitive to rejection, so the moment you politely decline any offers to help he backs up about a thousand miles and sulks when you’re not around. It’s hard for him to get out of his own head, and he’s so ready for you to just tell him what everybody else is thinking and how much he sucks…

It dawns on him, though, that you never gave up on him when he pushed you away. It’s totally not poggers sucky of him to just give up on you like that. You’re his henry! You’re his s/o! He’s totally ready to fight any boss for you!! …..after he levels up a little more.

Levi spends a TON of time looking up ways to talk to you, one-on-one. He isn’t good with emotions like this but he is capable of them and having deep, serious talks. It shouldn’t MATTER that his research material is a bunch of feel-good romance anime scenes that he based his most recent Top 10 OTPs of the season post on! 

Surprisingly enough, he brings it up relatively smoothly one night when you’re chilling in his room and he’s playing some relaxing simulator. You’re complaining about the things you have to do in the morning, and when there’s a lull in your conversation Leviathan turns and tentatively asks, “Hey...why don’t you try letting me help you out?” He can feel your refusal before it comes so he hurriedly adds “Please! I just- you stress yourself out so much and what good am I if I can’t even help you at all?”

Is it his impassioned plea for you to let him in? Is it his willingness to obviously step out of his comfort zone? Have your walls just conveniently crumbled at this moment? Whatever it is, you don’t have it in you to reject him when he’s so open about wanting to help you (and the pain it’s caused him not to). Either way, you sigh and give him a few, small tasks that you think you both could manage him having and he swears to do them well!!

Truly opening up to him about the reason why you were so hesitant on letting him help takes a while, and he doesn’t exactly pick up on it himself. Once you do tell him, though, in your journey to help yourself let him in, he holds you a little tighter and mumbles that he’ll never do that to you. Levi knows better than anyone that words can only mean so much, but he’s grateful for the chance to prove it to you. He won’t let his Henry down!

Satan

Satan is perceptive, and he knows how to talk about emotions. He might even have suspicious about the root cause before you even think about letting him know what’s up. He’s already started doing a few things for you - carrying each other’s books, for example. Small acts of kindness to get the both of you through the day.

However, one thing Satan isn’t good with…..is dealing with emotions head-on.

He spends so much time keeping his own under lock and key! After doing his best to keep the most calm, analytical front he can, Satan tends to uh….forget about the emotional part of emotions.

So. When he asks why you won’t let him reciprocate in the relationship, attempting to display that he just wants the two of you to be on equal ground and he is worried about you, he sort of comes off...as cold. And like he’s accusing you of feeling a certain way. He definitely presents it as “I’ve noticed you feel x and i think y would be helpful for us to fix it” rather than “how are you feeling? What is causing you trouble? How can i offer assistance in a way that translates well to you?” And if that doesn’t bring back some memories…

He feels awful, and at the end of it all you’re crying (or presenting your stress and bad memories however you normally do) and he still doesn’t know how to fix things. Counterintuitively, he looks through his books for an answer, and it takes him a few days to realize that’s what got him into this mess.

So he goes to you directly and, albeit a little clumsily, apologizes and asks what he can do to help you through this. You say that’s just the problem - you don’t want his help - and he sits next to you and just asks why? The two of you wind up talking for hours, sitting next to each other and just...really talking. You aren’t the only one feeling vulnerable - Satan is talking about his emotions full-on rather than through a scientific lens and it makes him just as nervous as you are.

Satan doesn’t get into arguments with you. He runs from the possibility because he’s worried about what his wrath could do to you. But he promises you that he could never hold anything against you, especially something like asking him for help. It’s an honor that you let him this close, and he can only return the favor in kind. He hopes you have enough faith to believe in him until he has the opportunity to prove it beyond a doubt.

Asmodeus

Asmo does things for people without asking. He gives unsolicited makeup and relationship advice, he offers to touch-up any products you may have on, he lends you clothes just because he felt like he should…

The thing is, Asmo will start before you even have a chance to ask him to stop. He’ll start before you’re even wondering if you like him. And at first, you’re ok with it. Well, you’re not, but you can decide he’s just testing the waters or that this is some weird demon way to earn your friendship or tell you he considers you a friendly presence, like cats. But it still rubs you the wrong way.

However, Asmo always notices that you...aren’t receiving it the way he wants you to. He invites you out and leaves you an outfit on your bed, and you come out wearing something entirely different. He leaves you a bouquet of flowers, and suddenly the dining room has a new bouquet in the center of it. (and you always avoid his gaze during those dinners, which is totally weird.) It’s almost like you’ve recognized the face he makes when he’s about to touch up your makeup, because you pull out a pocket mirror and check yourself over before he even has a chance to!

Are you leading him on? He doesn’t think so, but you are quite literally the only person he can’t literally charm the pants off of, and he isn’t quite sure how to navigate the signals you’re giving him. You seem fine with the relationship - it felt pretty genuine to him, and you looked thrilled when he made the romantic moves on you - so what was going on?

He finally caves and asks when he’s going through your wardrobe, sifting through it with you on the bed to make room for a shopping spree the two of you had been planning, and sees all the outfits he’d bought you hanging, still in their outfit bags. Some of the bags even had DUST on them!

He turns around and puts on a gentle voice. Though Asmo doesn’t know what’s happening, he can feel the air in the room shift and he knows he’s encroaching on some sensitive territory. “Hey, do you not like when I give you gifts? I haven’t been able to understand what’s been bothering you, but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable…”

He does NOT like the way you turn your face away from him, but he sits a respectable distance away and keeps his hands in his lap. Asmo is as good at genuine advice as he is at gossip, so it isn’t hard for him to get you comfortable enough to open up to him. You don’t have to tell him everything at once - he’ll listen to whatever you’re willing to tell him, letting you lean against him when you’re ready.

Asmo is known for being petty, but you bring out sides of him nobody knew were there. He’ll swear up and down that he’d never turn your good heart against you - after all, it’s one of the many things he loves about you - but he does understand where you’d get that impression. If you’ll let him prove it to you, he will - and he’ll start by only pestering you to let him buy one outfit for you on that shopping spree!

Beelzebub

Listen. Beel is a generous soul (for a demon) ((to those he really loves)). He just doesn’t ever really find himself in possession of anything worth sharing. Really, the only thing he is ever in the possession of is food. When he isn’t at his sports practice, working out or studying, he’s eating, and he’ll gladly share his food with you.

Oh? You don’t want it? He gives you a confused look - he’d ask if you were feeling well if he hadn’t eaten lunch with you just an hour before - but shrugs, his growling stomach winning over his concern. It’s not like you’re skipping meals, anyway. It isn’t until you get hurt helping him work out and refuse to let him pick you up to carry you to medical attention that he gets VERY concerned.

He feels awful enough as is. It was his fault you were even there - he just wanted to add more weight to his workout. (And, he won’t admit it, the idea of using a bench you were sitting on to lift over his head may have been a bit overkill. But he saw that little spark that said ‘that isn’t possible but man i wish it was’ when you saw it happen in that show and mmmmmmaybe he wanted to impress you. How was he supposed to know Mammon had broken it and left it there?) He could practically feel the pain in your ankle from the sound it made, and you were clutching desperately to your shin, wanting to press on the wound but knowing it was a bad idea. MC, there’s no way you can walk on that, why aren’t you letting him help?

The guilty puppy face he’s giving you is making the whole situation worse. It’s taking everything you can not to snap on, from the overwhelming pain in your ankle to the negative thoughts racing in your head to the knowledge that you’ll have to give in eventually. Finally, you face him head on and decide to just rip the band-aid off. “I don’t have the best experience with letting people do things for me. If you’re expecting to use this against me, I’m going to be out of commission for a while, so remember that.”

He is. So confused. Are you really mad at him? What are you talking about? It’s not that he’s stupid - because really, he isn’t - this just kinda came at him from left field and he does not know what to do about.

“What? I’m worried about you, MC, and there’s no way you can walk on your ankle. Come on, please let me take you to get help. I won’t mention it ever again if that’s what will make you happy.”

So maybe it takes a while to get to the nearest infirmary, and maybe he’s going extra slow so as not to jostle our injury, and maybe in the meantime he’s being so contemplative and quiet that you have a heart-to-heart. Beel’s too genuine not to trust him when he swears he’d NEVER use your kindness against you, but he understands it’ll take a while to show you.

Belphegor

So. Um. This is awkward.

Belphie is a smartass, and he’s the youngest and used to getting his way. He’s definitely the type to dig his heels in and fight dirty in an argument, just because he’s used to winning. He’s also sadistic and has plotted with you to use his brothers’ weaknesses against them for fun. So he gets it. He totally gets why you would think he’d do it. Honestly, that’s basically what he did to free himself from the attic, only with more violence involved. He gets it.

Since Belphegor hasn’t exactly been the nicest to you in the past, he isn’t about to make you pity him with words like “yeah, of course you wouldn’t trust me after what I did to you…” First of all, on the off chance that it’s completely unrelated, he doesn’t want to put that idea in your head and give you a resentment you never had, but also he’s getting a hang of this redemption thing. Yes, on an average day he’s still a bratty, selfish little shit, but he does show you how sorry he is for using you and hurting you. It shows in the way he checks up on you in situations he knows you’re uncomfortable in, in the way he cares for you in that gentle way that’s so subtle you wonder if he’s even actively doing anything. (He is - offering you the best spot in a blanket nest, suggesting your favorite meals when the brother on dinner duty needs ideas, little things - and you both know it.) But how does he repent for something he doesn’t even know if he’s doing?

The way you stop cold when you peek in the kitchen and see him (and Beel) cooking the dinner you just complained about wanting hurts. The two of you have a stare-off for a moment, and Beel gets the message to slide out of the room. Belphegor clears his throat.

“What do you want?” You ask with narrowed eyes. Ouch, way to be a Lucifer. He instead says, “Nothing. I just wanted to do something nice for you.” “And you don’t want anything in return?” “Have I given off the impression that I would?”

You sigh and step into the kitchen to wash your hands, asking if he needs help since Beel left. He grabs your wrist. “You’re welcome to keep me company, but I want to do this for you.”

He doesn’t like you looking at him distrustfully, but is relieved you sit at the counter instead of leaving. He wants to ask you what’s up, but something is stopping him - he ignores that what’s stopping him is fear that you’ll have another thing to add onto the list of the unforgivable sins he’s committed. If you feel like telling him, he’ll listen - but until then, he’ll go back to quietly trying to prove his worth to you, hoping one day you’ll see that it’s genuine and let him give you all the good things you deserve.

[hwascripts]

Masterlist

WC: Unknown

TW: Swearing, mentions of murder, a bit of angst, I think that’s it!

This is heavily unedited because it’s my Levi simp hours and I need Dad!Levi headcanons. Also your kid and Eren’s kid are gender neutral

Levi as a father 

-I honestly don’t picture Levi as someone who planned on having kids but rather someone who ends up having kids by complete accident. Living in the walls during a war is absolute hell and he doesn’t want his kids to suffer the same way he did growing up.

-Whether or not the kid is adopted or his biological kid- it doesn’t matter to him, he couldn’t give less of a shit about the parentage of his kid...if he raises the kid then you better believe it’s his kid.

If your kid is adopted then here’s how I picture you guys becoming their parents

- During one of your expeditions beyond the walls you find (what you think is) an abandoned cabin in the woods. When you point it out Levi just tells you to ignore it and focus on the task Erwin gave you, but you have this weird gut feeling that someone is in there. While Levi is distracted you go off to the cabin and peek inside and to your horror- there is a small child, no older than a few months crying in it’s deceased mothers arms. You run over and pry the crying baby from the mother’s hands and immediately start trying to hush it’s cries

-Levi notices the fact that you’ve left his side after a few minutes of silence and he pinches his nose in frustration- of course you went to check out the cabin he told you to ignore. He flies away from the tree he was perched on and makes his way to the cabin to look for you- upon reaching the cabin his eyes widen from pure shock. Where the hell did you get a crying baby from? he can’t help but be filled with sorrow when he notice’s the child’s dead parents on the ground behind you- bandits had probably murdered them.

-The two of you have a huge argument about what you should do with the orphan child and this results in the two of you not speaking for over a week. But as the week goes on, he realizes that him and that baby are more similar than he thinks. Levi never had a father- the closest father figure in his life being Kenny who abandoned him at a young age, and his dear mother Kuchel who died of sickness when he was just a boy. Both Levi and the child didn’t have parents in their lives, fate cruelly ripping that away from them. He see’s himself in that baby.

-After a week of silence Levi storms into your office only to catch you asleep with the baby on your chest, his heart softens just the slightest bit at the image. He sits next to you and gently shakes you awake- careful to not wake the sleeping baby. Before you can even say anything he quietly states:

-”we’re not abandoning the baby, we can raise them together”

-All the worry and stress you carried melted away after hearing his words.

If your kid was biologically his, this is how I picture it turning out:

-The day Hanji informed you that you were pregnant was quite possibly one of the worst days of your life (sorry to be angsty) how the hell could you have gotten pregnant? the amount of stress, physical strain on your body and sleepless nights is not ideal for fertility- so how the hell did this happen?

-How the hell would you even tell Levi? The topic of children has never once come up and you’re sure he would never want to raise a child in the walls while titans destroy and kill everyone in sight. Besides- the two of you already have enough on your plates as it is.

- You’d tell him straight out that you were pregnant during your nightly tea time before bed, just straight up dropping the news on him. It takes a few seconds for him to fully register what you just told him but once he finally understands he drops his teacup, the boiling hot tea staining his jacket. All he can do is sputter like a fish out of water and aggressively try to clean the stain.

- I’m going to be realistic here- the last thing he would do is jump for joy and kiss you. I hate to be angsty again but realistically he’d probably storm off and go for a walk around the town while he tries to take in the news. I see him unintentionally ignoring you for a few days while he tries to accept the fact that the two of you are bringing a child into this world.

-After about a week he’s finally calmed himself enough to talk to you about the situation and what the best thing for the two of you is. Again, he isn’t happy that you guys are bringing a kid into this- but who the hell would be? but he sure as hell won’t take that out on the kid, he thinks that’s the most pathetic thing you can do as a parent.

-”look, our situation is shitty but I’m not leaving you to raise the brat on your own”

How he is as a father

- I’m not going to lie to you, he is not the type to coddle his kid or show them a lot of affection. To be honest he doesn’t know a single thing about parenting, the only “parent” he had taught him violence and then left Levi to fend for himself- but he does know that most children don’t grow up around violence so he refuses to be even the slightest bit like his uncle Kenny.

- 100% calls his kid brat, ankle-biter, kid...you name it- but he doesn’t mean it in a derogatory way because deep down inside he still has a soft spot for the kid. 

-He rarely ever shows physical affection to the kid because he just doesn’t know how, he never knew the affectionate touch of another human until you came along. That’s not to say that he doesn’t love his kid- he would sacrifice his life without second thought to protect them.

-He doesn’t realize how distant and cold he can be to his kid until he overhears them crying to you about how “daddy doesn’t love me” and his heart just shatters into a million pieces because he DOES love them but for the life of him he just can’t find a way to show it.

-Levi ends up sitting down with the kid and having a conversation that was long overdue (for reference the kid is now 7 years old) and he admits that he loves them more than anything for the first time.

-Your kid just stares at him for a second and blinks because this is the VERY FIRST TIME they’re hearing their dad say I love you- Levi nearly has a heart attack when the kid launches themselves into his chest and starts sobbing.

-For the very first time in 7 years this kid is finally experiencing the love from their father (besides awkward headpats) and the feeling is just so foreign to both of them that even Levi sniffles a little bit

-Levi silently rocks them back and forth while he rubs their back, the child’s sobs turning into soft sniffles. But what Levi says next shocks all three of you.

“I’m sorry for being a terrible father. forgive me little one?”

-You don’t know what shocks you more- the fact he apologized or that he called your child “little one” instead of the usual “brat”. The kid looks at him while wiping their tears away.

“you’re not a bad daddy. I love you papa”

-To this day Levi swears he just had watery eyes because of the dust but you know damn well they were fat tears rolling down his face

-After this incident Levi swears to himself that he’ll be a more affectionate father, a father who tells his kid that he’s proud of them, a father who their kid can rely on.

-He’s tough on his kid and never lets them slack off, he scolds them whenever they make bad choices and sometimes your kid says he’s got a stick up his ass (you lightly scold them but the two of you always end up laughing because it’s true) but your husband deeply cares for your child and does it so they can grow into the best version of themselves.

-Did I mention that he absolutely flips the fuck out when your kid brings home Eren’s kid to introduce you to them? You have to sit on him to make sure that he doesn’t strangle the poor bastard. 

“If that son of a bitch is anything like his father then they’re going home in a bodybag!” “Levi you can’t threaten them just because they’re Eren’s kid!” “Like hell I can’t! nobody is good enough for our child”

-Your kid quickly learns that they can’t bring their significant other home while Levi is there- unless they have a death wish. The two of you team up to keep Levi distracted for a few hours while the couple chills in your living room

-Your kid swears like a sailor (just like their dad) and Levi swears on his life that he’s not the one that taught them that.

“What the hell do you mean? I didn’t do shit! I don’t fucking know where they picked that up from!” *cue you looking into the camera*

-He’s so damn proud when he see’s his kid graduate at the top of their class. He doesn’t scream at the top of his lungs when your kid walks across the stage but he pulls them to the side after and congratulates them with a small smile on his face

“Good job. I’m proud of you, damn brat”

-Gives them one of his rare Levi hugs and the kid nearly drops the diploma in shock because “wtf dad never hugs me”

-You have to pinch his side multiple times during your kid and Eren’s kids wedding because he won’t shut the hell up with snarky remarks

“Say no goddamnit!” *you pinch him* 

“Ow son of a bitch! what the fuck Y/n?”

 “Would you shut the hell up and be happy for our child on their wedding day?!” 

“I would if our child had taste and picked someone el- OW FUCK!” 

“Shut the fuck up already and behave, Levi!”

-He grumbles while the rest of the former cadets and captains laugh at his sour look

Silly headcanons

-God could you imagine Levi and your kid sitting at the dinner table, it’s almost midnight and they’re arguing over a homework question neither of them understand. This is the night both of you hear your kid swear

“What the hell is this shit? Improper fractions are made-up bullshit”

“If you don’t know then how the fuck am I suppose to know?”

-It’s so silent you can hear a pin drop

“Levi come here for a second”

“Shit...finish this while I’m gone, brat”

-Your kid laughs their ass off while you pull Levi’s ear and drag him to your shared room

‘Yeah keep fucking laughing at your dad, brat!”

“LEVI!”

-An absolute nightmare when it comes to cleaning oh my god both you and your kid wanna kill him sometimes

“This shit isn’t clean, you wipe it down six times and then place it at an angle”

“Levi it’s a fucking T.V. Remote”

-The war ended years ago now and he tells your kid about all the titans he killed and the ass he kicked

“And then I sliced that ugly bastard titan’s head clean off!”

“Levi for someone who’s a clean freak your stories sure are gross”

-The noise the toaster makes when it’s done scares the shit out of him. He’ll be in the middle of scolding your kid and then he jumps because the toaster is done and your kid just thinks it’s comedic gold

“I fucking told you not to do that shit but you went and did it anyways, do you know how irresponsi-FUCK! damn toaster- Hey stop laughing brat I’m not done yet!”

That’s all I’ve got for now- stay tuned

[recklessmark]

prove it

—enemies to lovers trope

Mark Lee x Reader

Words: 2180

Warnings: unprotected sex (be safe guys), face-cumming, oral sex, a lot of degradation, dirty talk, overstimulation, fingering, mirror sex, spanking, breeding kink, idk but it’s just mark fucking you dumb.

You tied your hair up in a high ponytail. Washing your face with some water, you look at yourself in the mirror. The thoughts of him have been wandering in your mind for eternities and you hate it.

Walking into the training room, you were expecting to be alone, to exercise and clear your mind of all distractions of Mark Lee. You clearly did not expect to see the man in question himself, your enemy to be in the room. His fists mercilessly pounding into the punching bag, he’s shirtless, skin damp and glowing. You definitely should try harder to hate Mark but he always makes thing so damn hard. Without making a noise, you swallow hard, turning around to leave when suddenly a hand slamming the door closed, a body pinning itself against your backside. You froze at your place, biting your inner cheeks when a pair of lips lands on your ear.

“You really don’t think that we can get along for at least 10 minutes?”, Mark asks, his breath hot against your skin.

“Are you repulsed by me that much?”, his hand is suddenly at your hip, “Or is it the opposite?”

“Don’t flatter yourself too much, Lee.”, you sway his hand away, turning around to face the man.

His eyes intensely stare down at you making you feel weak. You hate the fact that every time you’re facing Mark, you can’t control the way your heart beats like a piston or your hands all get sweaty. You hate the fact that Mark makes you feel, you were so heartless and this is nothing good.

“Why should you call that “flatter” when I’m the only one can make you bow down?”, he smirks cockily.

Now you’re getting somewhere. Did you say that you also hate the fact that Mark can probably see through you, you hate to admit that everything he said was right.

“Prove it.”, you surely don’t want to back off.

You raise your hands up in fists, ready for a hand to hand fight when Mark catches both of your wrists into one of his palm.

“Oh no princess, I have other ways to beat your ass. Fighting is none of that.”

You see something glinting in his eyes that you can not tell, ambition, stubbornness or is it lust? His grip on your hands is tight, forbids you to move away. Mark is now like a predator targeting its prey when he takes a step forward making you step backward until your back is against the wall mirror of the room. His hand finally lets your wrists free, but instead grabbing your neck causing you look up slightly. You squeeze your eyes shut when there’s something crashes onto your lips. Mark’s crazily kissing you, his tongue slips into your mouth, licking all over. You feel the urge to pull away but the tight grip on your neck reminds you of your vulnerable situation now. His mouth leaves your, letting you breath but not without latching his lips onto your neck. Mark licks a stripe up on your sensitive skin causing you to moan slightly, he makes sure that he leaves some marks on your exposed neck. You feel Mark then comes down to your cleavage since you’re wearing a crop top for practicing. He moves back a little bit to take your top off, unclasping your bra, throwing the clothing somewhere. You vulnerably give up when Mark attaches his mouth onto your nipple, making you cry out.

“Mark-“

“That’s it, I’ll fuck you so good that the only thing you have in your mind is my name.”, he says while moving between your nipples.

You’re feeling your legs weak when Mark push you to kneel on the floor but not before taking every fabric left on you and him off. Your face burns up at the sight of Mark’s semi-hard cock which is directing right into your face. He pumps it with his hand making you swallow hard, wanting his length to fill up you mouth. His free hand makes contact with your face, tilts your chin up slightly to look at him.

“You want it huh? You want my cock to thrust deep down your throat so that I can cum all over your face and you’re gonna lick up everything, don’t you?”

You feel embarrassed but you can’t deny you don’t like it. However you don’t want Mark to know that you’re into this so you nod instead, hoping that you can cover up your desire. But you may forgot that Mark probably can see through you, and he’s not happy with it.

He slaps your face lightly with his palm, “Words, slut.”

“Yes I want it Mark, just fuck my mouth-“

Your sentence is halfway cut when Mark suddenly thrusts his cock into your mouth, stuffing it full not even with half of his length.

“Fuck- I fucking know you’re a slut. Your mouth feels so good god-“

Mark babbling while holding your head in place, his tip hits the back of your throat every time he thrusts in. He leans down making his cock even deeper, his hand finds your wetting cunt, landing a harsh slap on it. Your moans send vibrating onto his cock, you swallow your cheek, attempting to make Mark cum.

“Fucking cockslut,” he slaps onto your clit, “Sucking my cock like it’s your last meal, gonna cum all over your face, and you’re not wasting a single drop huh?”

You dart your tongue around his sensitive tip, tasting the leaking pre-cum.

“Fuck fuck fuck- god I’m gonna cum-“

Mark quickly pulls out, there’s a string of salvia between your mouth and his tip. His hand pumping his cock as you look up as his face, stick your tongue out. The sight of you looking at him sends him over the edge as sprints of cum landing onto your face, some onto your waiting tongue and some in your opened mouth.

“Jesus you’re so hot.”

Mark finally calm down, he smirks as the sight of your face painted with his cum. His thumb collect some on your cheek, shoving it into your mouth as you suck on his fingers.

“Yes, lick it all, don’t waste a single drop.”

He pushes you to lay your back on the floor, spreading your legs wide, exposing your wetness. His thumb leave your mouth, full of your spit, circling you clit. Your body squirms at the pleasure, wanting something more.

“Ask for what you want, darling.”, his fingers collect your essence, teasing you.

“Anything Mark, I’ll take whatever you give me.”

You’re now too gone to talk properly. Mark chuckles, finally shoving two of his fingers into your core.

“I barely do anything and you’re fucked up. Who knows you’re such a slut Y/N?”

Suddenly something pops up in Mark’s mind when he sees your palm pressing against the mirror. He retracts his fingers from you causing you to whine but he quickly makes you sit up, turning you around so that you’re facing the mirror. His fingers brush your slit again but he doesn’t go inside, you squirm inside his embrace.

“Open your eyes.”

You follow his demand, opening your eyes, welcomed with the sight of you become undone under Mark’s touch. You’re a mess, completely naked, your cheeks are bright red and his hand playing with your pussy, your arousal dripping. You immediately close your eyes, embarrassed with the image of you but you feel his fingers leave your core.

“If you want my fingers inside you, watch.”

Mark whispers in your ears, his teeth nibbling your earlobe.

Trying to ease the embarrassment away, you open your eyes, watching as his fingers make their way to your pussy again. He slips two fingers in you, pumping them in and out.

“That’s right, baby. Look at the way your tight pussy all wet, sucking my fingers in.”, Mark groans, biting your shoulder.

Your hand grips his thigh as he starts moving his fingers faster, trying to keep your eyes opened.

“M-Mark, I wa-wanna cum...”, you stutter, looking into his eyes through the mirror. You know if you didn’t do it he would stop.

“Do you deserve to cum? I don’t think so but I’ll do a favor since you sucked my dick so good.”

His tongue licks the corner of your mouth, you feel his fingers going even deeper, curling against your sweet spot. His eyes didn’t leave the reflection of you in the mirror for a second, examining every expression you make. You want to close your legs as your orgasm hit you but the firm grip Mark made on your thigh prevents you from it. You eventually give up, squeezing your eyes, your head burried in the crook of his neck, you scream his name like a mantra as he fingers you through your orgasm.

Mark retracts his finger from you, manhandles you into a doggy position. His hand pulls your ponytail, yanking your head back.

“What did I say about closing your eyes?”, his other hand slaps your ass harshly, “Should I punish you?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-“

Another slap lands on your ass makes you bite your lips.

“No talk back. A slut like you can only do what I say, understood?”, he pulls your hair again, your back almost breaks from arching too much.

“Yes sir.”, you mutter out.

“You want my cock huh? You want my big cock in your tight dirty pussy, don’t you?”

Mark teases you with the head of his cock, sliding it against your heat, making you clench around nothing.

“Yes please, I want it so bad, I want your big hard cock in my wet pussy, fuck me.”, you shamelessly beg.

Mark chuckles, “Since you asked so nicely.”

Your mouth opens wide when Mark pushes his cock inside you deliciously. Mark has been wanting to fuck you, every time you give him that hateful look or every time you compete. That stubbornness, that ruthlessness, he wants to claim you his. And now, you’re sticking your ass up, begging him to fuck you making him regret, regret that he didn’t fuck you sooner.

“Fuck, you’re so tight. Look at yourself, such a slut. All that toughness is such a perfect cover, for the fact that you’re a cockslut, my cockslut, always desperate for my big cock, isn’t it?”

Mark leans forward to whisper into your ear, holding your chin so that you’re staring at your reflection in the mirror.

“I’ll fuck you so good, do you want everyone to see you like this? Letting me fuck you however I want. Stretching out your little tight pussy. I bet everyone can fuck you, right?”

The pleasure is too much for you to notice what Mark is saying, you’re just babbling nonsense.

“Fucking answer me. Or did I fuck you dumb? Who fucks you so good like this? A slut like you will let anyone fuck you, don’t you?”

You hear Mark growls into your ear, you clench your walls around his cock.

“You Mark, you fuck me dumb. Only you can fuck me, I’m yours, all yours.”

Satisfied with your answer, Mark pounding into your faster, his cock hits your sensitive spot.

“Fuck Mark-, too much...”, you stare in the mirror as Mark thrusting into you.

His thumb comes find your clit, rubbing circular figure on it, increasing the pleasure on you. His lips leave wet kisses on your neck and your shoulders.

“I-I’m gonna cum, fuck, M-Mark!”

You cry out, feeling a knot tightens in your belly.

“Yes! Fucking scream my name so that everyone can hear you. Look at yourself when you cum, look at me thrusting my cock into your cunt. Fucking cum baby, cum for me, cum all over my cock!”

All that words of Mark send you into oblivion as you reach your climax. Mark didn’t even slow down, his thrusts become sloppy as you feel the overstimulation.

“I can’t- Mark! Too fast- god...”

“I’m gonna cum in your dirty pussy. Filling you up with my cum, putting my baby inside you. You’re gonna bring my child, yeah, I’m gonna make you fucking pregnant.”

His breath hot on your skin, the sound of your skin slapping echoing around the room, giving you another orgasm.

“God I wan-wanna cum Mark! I’m gonna- gonna cum-“, you stutter.

“Yeah, cum baby, cum again for me. Fuck yeah- god I’m cumming-“

You cry out as the second orgasm hits you, blowing your mind away. With a few more thrusts, Mark reaches his climax, filling his seed inside you.

“You’re not wasting a drop of my cum, you will be pregnant with my child, yeah?”

Mark pulls out as he calm down from his orgasm. His fingers trace on your slit, pushing his leaking cum inside you again, making you whine.

“I win, princess.”, Mark kisses you sweetly.

©️  DREAMYKRAM. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED