#is that a gift from God; because he is full of faith even if damned?

[iambecomeafangirl]

Watching Midnight Mass ep 02.

The priest is a vampire right? And he can make miracles after drinking human blood.

[lizzaneia-elizalde]

Hi I'm back. How are you?

How about... A yandere that has had a bunch of lovers and either killed them because he got bored or broke their heart beyond repair? But them he meets the reader and something changes?

Idk it seems like a fun dea.

Yandere! Male! Player x gn! Barista! Reader

Uh ohz, here is the player 🙄 there's a little twist to the request, meowing! I hope you don't mind. (Another Greek mythos twist. Not as blatant as Hades though. Only a bit of the Greek mythos is grabbed, not all.)

I'll see to it how can we break this little man

ヘ(￣ω￣ヘ)

AND, I AM GOING TO STOP TAKING NEW YANDERE REQUESTS! But, I am going to take asks about the existing yanderes now!

Yandere! Player name: Amor

A resounding slap echoed throughout the bustling cafe, silencing the people talking to each other. The woman, tear stricken and angry, looked at the man in front of her.

"We're over!" She yelled before stomping away from the cafe, leaving the man behind.

The people started to gossip amongst each other, but one particular action by the man stunned them.

He just sat down, took out his phone, and called somebody.

"Hey, fancy meeting tonight? I just know of this nice cafe. Date, my treat."

Shameless, the people thought as he chuckled and ended the call with a lazy smirk, stirring his coffee and sipping it.

Amor. Extremely handsome man. Charming, always knew how to get the ladies.

That's what made him full of shit since being handsome is his only redeeming quality.

He's arrogant, a bastard, selfish, has a pride taller than the Eiffel tower, and a total player.

He juggles women left and right, flavor of the day, who's gonna be my girl for the morning, afternoon, and night?

Why do people flock to this man again?

Ah, because the Gods favor this bitch.

What did he do in his past life that women love this man?

Well, in his past life, he's a boring nerd.

His family loved him dearly, and wanted him to succeed in life.

So, attending academic camps, prestigious schools, goddamn Kumon? He got it all.

Awards, upon awards. He collects them like pokemon.

Did it make him interesting?

No. All he knew is academics, and no outside skill.

He's book smart, not street smart.

Poor guy wasn't even attractive. So, when he finished University in an Ivy League Uni, he's lost. He doesn't have charisma to charm employers, he doesn't have the confidence to do public work...

Well, that, and NASA already hired him.

What? He is not street smart and has a hard time finding a job himself, but that doesn't mean he doesn't have connections.

In short, he's a Nepo baby.

At least he's a genius so NASA made sure to use him thoroughly.

But, he felt... Bored.

He wanted more from this life of his.

He wanted a girlfriend for fuck's sake!

So, by some stupid and desperation he himself never thought of doing, he turned to the old gods.

The old Gods, surprised by a sudden influx of eager and desperation of faith from only one man, decided to entertain them.

"PLEASE! WHEN I DIE, MAKE ME EXTREMELY HANDSOME AND HAVE WOMEN LEFT AND RIGHT!"

Oh... That's not...

He's really superficial....

Did the Gods care though? Nah. He's really entertaining. Awakening old Gods just for... Women?

So they granted his wish.

When he died of old age (unfortunately for him.), He woke up to another wealthy and loving family. But this time, he's the son of a world renowned Kpop idol, and a Miss Universe.

"This is overkill." Amor thought to himself as his mother cradled her. "But damn, ain't I happy!"

Growing up, even as a kid, girls liked him. He felt like on the top of the world. He retained his memory, so he's practically a gifted child. No, perfect child even!

Except that he's actually a foul kid.

He became arrogant, a snob. Someone who viewed himself too highly for people.

But do his parents care?

Eh...

They spoil the kid a lot. And turn a blind eye to his lack in manners.

Again, went to prestigious Universities, to Kumon, academic camps.

Everything was a breeze for him now.

He got a job as a model immediately. He decided to not go down the academic path, but use his parents' connections once more to climb up the showbiz ladder!

He's still a Nepo baby in this life.

Well, again, his handsomeness is almost too good to be true (work of the goddess of beauty), so his model career is skyrocketing in success.

And women.

Countless of them.

He cycles through them like toilet paper. Throwing them away once he's got his fill.

Yet, people don't care.

He somehow built a reputation off of being a player. When people say that "he broke somebody's heart again!"

"Eh, what did you expect from being in a relationship with Amor?" They would say with a shake of their head and a smile.

That's how much the Gods intervened with his life.

Once he sets his eyes on someone, he 100% would get them.

Unless....

"Tsk. Where can I go now..."

Amor paced around the street, turning heads left and right as this man sculpted by the gods had a worried look on his face.

The cafe he frequents closed down, now he needs a new place to take his women to dates to.

He's about to get his phone when a flyer hit him directly on his face. With an irritated glower, he grabbed the flyer.

"ow! What the f... Oh?"

He stopped, seeing the content.

"new cafe open?"

It looks like a generic cafe. But what was interesting was that the cafe is located in an indoor garden. Like a greenhouse.

"This is interesting. Women love flowers, don't they? And a garden of all places!" He laughs, making the gods stir from the sudden new cafe they got.

They all fuzzed, saying that this would be a good place. But, the goddess of Beauty stirred. Saying she got a bad feeling about this.

"relax, nothing will happen."

And when he got inside the cafe, he immediately got shocked by the barista, you.

Has there ever been an ethereal beauty like you? Someone... Someone who rivals even the goddess of beauty herself?!

The goddess stirred again, shackles raised. She never made you, so why are you this attractive?

Then, the goddess whispered on his ear.

It's to make you fall in love with a monster. Someone ugly, a beast... Anything to get your status down! Nobody can be as beautiful as her!

Envy filled the goddess as she gave Amor arrows to hit you with.

Now, assigned with the task of making you fall in love with what the goddess call a 'monster', he sets off to your house in the middle of the night. With the help of the other Gods, he became invisible and flew on to your balcony.

With a creak, your balcony doors opened. Making him shimmy inside through the small crack.

Yet, fate tempted him as the moonlight hit your form. In a vulnerable state, your androgynous beauty is amplified. Your long eyelashes, your skin... Your figure...

Truly, your beauty rivaled the goddess. No, you were more beautiful than her.

His throat dried, eyes glazed over.

Gods, are they tempting him?

It would be a waste for you to fall in love with an ugly guy.

His fingers twitched, trying to grab the arrow.

"OW!"

He seethed, doubling over as he clutched his finger. It got pricked by the arrow.

He somehow forgot a crucial information.

'whoever the first person the pricked sees if the arrows only pricked one, they will fall in love with the first person they sees.'

And, as his eyes irritably looked at you, overwhelming love filled inside him as he gasped in the sudden influx of emotions.

He kneeled down, eyes wide.

He's rigid. All he could see is your form. Lovely and so bright.

And hid eyes softened. A dull light in it as his lips twitched into a lovesick smile.

He was already attracted to you before, and now, pricked by the arrows, he's utterly obsessed with you.

With a twitch of his hand once more, he grabbed the arrow and stabbed himself fully to the thigh.

"GAGH!"

He doubled over, gasping, twitching for air as his heart pulsed through his ears. His eyes frantically finding your sleeping form before letting out a shaky moan from the satisfaction.

It was like a drug. Everytime he sees you, he gets overwhelmed with feelings of affection.

Is this what love is about?

And before he knows it, the arrows are all used up.

It was morbid, seeing this man stabbed with so many arrows.

But his face says otherwise. Like a drugged up man, overdosed on ecstacy, he was in a drooling trance from the addictive feeling of love for you.

The arrow is effective enough by one arrow, and now this?

Well, let's just say...

"I count, right?" He shakily asked the gods. "I'm a monster, somebody who breaks women's heart left and right."

He trembled, standing up.

He walked over to you, legs unsteady as he dropped to his knees once more and planted his lips on your own.

It tasted, you tasted so sweet, divine upon his lips.

He wants more, but he can't risk waking you up.

"Goodbye, my love. See you tomorrow." Amor whispered, grabbing your hand and dragging his nose on your skin and inhaling your scent. Exhaling shakily, he stood up and flew away.

Let's say, the goddess of Beauty was really angry at him.

But her condition, a 'monster', fits him. So, what can she do?

She gritted her teeth and looked at him with hatred, yet complacency.

You're so pretty, it hurts.

"Welcome to the Psyche cafe! How may I help you-- oh hello, sir Amor! The usual?"

Amor slowly nodded, clearing his throat.

"yes. The usual."

It's been weeks since then. And he made sure to make himself a regular in the cafe. He stopped going on dates, and pulled a lot of strings to somehow burry the player accusations. He knows he can't really burry it all.

So he made (threatened) the women he dated to be positive about him.

He wants to fly on your radar, spot on the middle, so bad.

So, with the invisibility power he got from the Gods, he always followed you. Even up to your home.

At first, his heart pounded like crazy. What if he suddenly appeared? Will you be freaked out? Surprised? Will you run away--

No, you can't run away.

Like you can, anyways.

He knew of your favorite food, fashion sense, hell, your taste in men...

He slowly changed himself into the man of your dreams.

Like a persona he integrated into himself, this sudden change shocked the people. But, they welcomed this change.

"Is he in love, that's why he's changing?"

More than that.

He's making himself into the perfect boyfriend for you.

Now, all he needs is you!

"Here's your coffee, sir!" You greeted with a sweet smile that he swore he had to grab his soul from leaving his body. "Enjoy!"

He gently grabbed the coffee and as usual, gave you 200$.

"sir..." You grimaced.

"Please, just accept it." He smiles. "You've always been a pleasant person to talk to, y/n. So, just see it as a generous tip. That I frequently give."

You looked down at the bill and smiled. Warmness spreads through your chest.

"thank you s--"

You looked up, and froze from the look he's giving you.

Deep, crazed...

Obsessed.

You shivered in fear.

Sensing your eyes on him, he coughed loudly, averting his eyes before returning to the man you knew.

Or did you actually know him?

You don't even know anymore.

But hey, he gives huge tips.

"Thanks again for the coffee." Amor smiles, trying to sweep what happened under the rug as he waved at you.

He went to his usual table. Somewhere secluded, yet has a clear view of you surrounded by flowers.

He observes you. Plans on what to do next.

He knew he can't just waltz in and whisk you away. That's barbaric.

But he's not opposed to the idea though...

He smirks.

He can probably pull tons of strings for you to end up in his arms.

He loves you, don't mistake that.

But, a little bit of... Force would be good.

He's an impatient man.

Also, did he mention that he's a selfish asshole?

How about, making your life so miserable. Getting you kicked out of this cafe, your family suddenly getting a huge debt...

Something he knows you can't pay immediately.

And his family would coincidentally sponsor you by giving you a condition of marrying him!

Anything to be with you, really.

Or, just steal another arrow and hit it with you. That's also plausible.

But, the goddess is pissed with him. So that's the last resort.

He sips his coffee and crosses his long legs.

He's favored by the Gods anyways.

His eyes narrowed slightly as you interacted too amicably with your coworker. An obvious blush on the coworker's face as he got too touchy with you.

No, everyone in the cafe is enamoured with you. Your beauty too good for this world.

He gripped the handle of his cup.

But first, let's get rid of potential rivals, yes?

You are only his.

What is there to fear? He has the resources in his hands to make you his.

You didn't know yet, but your fate is already sealed, tied, and shackled to him.

You don't really have a choice.

[iridiss]

I want a (non-canon compliant) Narinder whose gentle.

I want a Narinder who was once a kitten, newly crowned immortal, under Shamura’s careful mentorship. Who grew up the hard way, who learned you have to be rough, loud, mean, manipulative, and maniacal, you have to be bloody and violent and cruel, in order to survive in this world. In order to survive against Leshy and Heket’s brutality and Kallamar’s back-handed cunning. He learned from a family cruel and cold that love was a fool’s game, that sentiment was insignificant, that caring was weakness. So he scoffed at caring for anybody at all and learned how to break and toy with people as if they were dolls, made only for his own consumption and desire. That’s what his siblings told him, that’s what Shamura told him, that’s what his subjects and the fight to survive told him.

But he never saw his toys fit for anything more than the most necessary use, he never let them come any closer than professional arms-reach business, and he made sure to throw them away the second they were no longer strictly necessary. And he hated the cruelty of his siblings. He hated how they treated him, he hated how they made him fight for his fair share. And then he kept rebelling against the doctrine of the Old Faith. He would take the cruel, old, traditional rules of how one was supposed to act, and he would take them more as loose suggestions than anything severely concrete that you had to live by. He would start making up his own rules, or ignoring other rules that he simply didn’t like or deemed “inconvenient.”

He quickly became the black sheep of the “family.”

And then the Gods of The Old Faith betrayed him. And everything he was ever taught became a horrible lie. Everything became unjust. Everything turned into a false, corrupted kingdom that had to be torn down, that he could fix, that he could replace with something better. He tore it all down, violently lashing out against the family he had trusted, the family he had followed to the end of the road at his own expense, tearing them apart with his own two hands, because the scars he bore over the years became far too fucking loud to bear. Because everything had been a lie all along. Everything had been wrong, this whole damn time.

And they killed him for it. He screamed so loud about their lies that they simply had to smother the sound. They murdered their own brother—if he was ever a real “brother” to them at all, or nothing more than another religious heir to a crooked throne.

He was a God turned exiled heretic.

So he’d make his own fucking kingdom instead. He would undo everything, and start anew, following the doctrine he always knew was better. What he thought was superior. But problem is, it’s not that easy to shake off the entirety of one’s religious upbringing overnight. He was still clinging on. He would scream and shout about the incongruities and arrogance of The Old Faith all damn day—but then he’d keep Aym and Baal, a gift from his old mentor and oldest sibling, close to his side. He would call them fools and tyrants and wretched liars, but he’d remember the Darkwood flowers with a fondness, yearning to stand in his brother’s flower fields again someday. He would stay in the Lamb’s cult, when he could easily become a constant dissenter and leave like any other follower, when he could attack them, maybe even kill them, at any given moment. He doesn’t. He stays. He clings on to the fondness. He never fully let go of that old sentimental feeling.

I want a Narinder who doesn’t understand what love looks like, because the closest thing he’d ever known to true, honest love growing up was the scraps he’d receive from a withdrawn and uncertain Shamura. Those rare moments where Shamura was kind, warm, gentle, full of love, when he’d listen to the lullabies and the poems that they would weave to put him to sleep, when he’d be wrapped up in the blankets of their webs and their nests. When they would give him gifts.

When they gave him their final gift.

He doesn’t understand love. He was trained to view it as weakness. He still feels deeply, severely insecure about showing said weakness, he doesn’t want to face the severe and violent consequences of welcoming it. There’s a part in him deep down that understands devotion, that already internally understands what real trust, respect, loyalty, and integrity looks like. But it’s buried deep, under layers upon layers of indoctrination, manipulation, fear, insecurity, doubt, ungodly amounts of pain, and rage. He has enough of a natural moral compass to be able to tell when someone’s entire belief system is flawed or fucked up, and he has enough justice in him to want to tear the entire damn world apart from the ground up. Even if it’s just in the name of avenging the kitten in him that was forced to die all those centuries ago.

He isn’t aware of it. He doesn’t understand what’s going on inside of him. He’s never even taken an introspective glance at himself and why he feels everything that he does, he’s never even asked himself why everything hurts so much beyond the simple “my siblings betrayed me, therefore they all must die as they killed me” surface level. Frankly he’s too scared to look, so he pushed it all away and easily leans on the grinning, devilish, mean mask he always depended on before.

Then I want a Lamb that’s everything he ever needed. Literally, yes, as the vessel prophesied to save him, but also emotionally.

The Lamb had everything taken away from them by The Old Faith. They were killed and thrown away to Narinder’s feet like a broken toy. They want to destroy the doctrine of the Old Faith, they want to rip the world apart from the ground up and completely start anew. They share Narinder’s moral core, his drive for justice, his drive for revenge.

But they also learn, through their own cult, how to rule with love and mercy. They save and spare each follower individually, they marry their own followers, they cook for them, clean for them, house them, decorate for them, they love their followers. They learn that there is value and strength in utilizing the “sentiment and care” that the Bishops deemed as weakness. Literally: one of the best and most overpowered mechanics of the game is building your friendship level with your followers. You can’t live without them. You are their servant as much as they are one to you.

And when Narinder demonstrates his upbringing at its fullest by betraying Lamb and throwing them away like they were nothing more than a toy—The Lamb spares him, too.

I want to express to you how much that means, especially to him. I mean, hell, Narinder wasn’t spared by his own family. But instead, this tool, now proven Almighty God, gave him a level of grace that he wasn’t even allowed to fathom before. There couldn’t be a stronger, faster way to take a wake-up-sledgehammer to someone’s childhood manipulation. The Lamb was sent to destroy every last trace of the Old Faith, and I don’t think Narinder ever considered the extent of what that entailed.

He’d been lied to his entire childhood, being told that heart was weakness, that kindness would be his downfall, that sentiment was heresy. And yet here was a God besting him and every other deity/bishop in the land, and still cleaning up their servants’ shit with a broom. And I like to think that Narinder would undergo a massive change during his time in the cult.

He’d start off hostile and vicious and mean, because he’s still convinced that the Lamb betrayed him and “betrayal” is kind of a very emotionally heated topic for the guy right now. Even if the Lamb actually did the opposite of what his siblings did to him. He’s also terrified, confused, lost, and he certainly doesn’t trust any of the flowery, overly friendly mortals getting all touchy-feely with him.

But maybe he starts to show a little more wistfulness and nostalgia through his side-quests, maybe he’s trying to gauge how trustworthy the Lamb is by asking them to bring him special items from his childhood, and when they follow suit, he dips his toe in the water and shows just a little bit more of his heart, a tiny, itty bitty fragment. And then they don’t hurt him for it. They treat him with the same kindness they give to all of their followers.

And over time, he starts to see that the Lamb’s dominion is one of safety. All of their safety had been violently torn from them in the hunt for the last lamb, so now they do everything in their power to make their cult a home. And they welcome Narinder into that home, and Narinder is safe, and he’s loved, and he’s taken care of, and he’s respected, and he becomes one with the community. The Lamb is able to rule like this and still keep their power. And actually, their power is tripled by their bond with their people! Their kindness literally becomes a strength, and Narinder has never seen anything like it before, but they pull it off! In fact, the Lamb literally defied and beat Narinder into the ground because they weren’t willing to give up their home and their people.

I think he’d come to see The Lamb very differently over time. He’d go from seeing them only as an insignificant weapon for someone else’s use (possibly projecting a lot onto them), to bring in total awe of them, to learning that they’re trustworthy and safe, to seeing them as an equal.

I think they’d be two halves of the same whole. They understand each other in ways that no one else ever will. They’re the Gods of Death, past and future, they belong to the same power. They sit on this throne together. They teach each other everything they ever needed. They’re immortals together. Lamb once served Narinder in total devotion, then Narinder served Lamb in total devotion, and now they’re equals in every conceivable way. They have literally trusted each other with their lives. They were forged in very similar religious trauma and bloodshed, they were there at each other’s darkest time, working as a team. They’re vengeance-bonded. They saved each other. They spared each other, gave the other a second chance. They made each other better. Bonded in blood, divine vows, death, and resurrection. They are THE POWER TEAM.

As their bond grows, Narinder would end up letting his repressed soft side shine through. I can see him allowing himself to be kind for the first time, learning to recognize that not only is it safe for him to care here, it’s fully embraced and encouraged. The Lamb will punish him if he’s too mean to one of their followers. He can be gentle here, he can let his guard down and unwind. So he does, and he becomes a whole new cat. The Lamb eventually trusts him with leadership positions in the cult, until they’re ruling side by side, as they should. Narinder moves on from any desperate reach for power, because he’s secure enough in himself to know he doesn’t need to fight for it anymore. He would fight and die for Lamb as much as they would fight and die for him. They’ve given him true sanctuary, true family. True devotion.

[whothehellisoli]

sick of the notion religious trauma is just about sexuality. it’s being told that your heart is sinful from the moment you are born, being told human nature (7 deadly sins) is a crime, being told you can’t love anything or anyone more than god, including yourself, being told every white lie you tell is another crown of thorns on jesus’s head, not having blind faith is disrespectful.

being a young girl and hearing over and over that you can’t have an important position in the church, but you can be a nun. being told every little thing you do will hurt the man who loves you so much, and he’ll send you to hell if you disappoint him, and even though you are damned for all eternity and he sent you there, he’ll be full of nothing but sadness

being told free will is a gift but if you choose wrong you’ll suffer so choose whatever you want but don’t choose sin, and jesus loves you so you should pray every morning and every night and before every meal and don’t be ashamed of your love for god but don’t flaunt it. he is the one true god but don’t worship other gods cause they are a threat to him

god is perfect but he made us imperfect and he made the universe so we should cherish human life but if you’ve lost someone it was gods plan and he wanted them to die but he won’t interview with human affairs but he also flooded the world because people stopped worshipping him but you can’t be prideful

i could probably go on but i have to go to work

growing up catholic is traumatizing in so many ways, not just because some christian’s are bad people, but because the religion itself is corrupt and founded on misogyny and built up by racist imperialism. and this post is just about my own experience as a middle class white person, there is so much wrong with the church and it’s devastating but we still use it to form our laws and morals and who gets to kill and conquer who.

fuck the catholic church and fuck anybody who helps in perpetuating it, from the pope to the volunteers in the faith formation classrooms

[pillarsalt]

Anon worried about her trans-identified friend again, I wish I had the words to express how much I appreciate your kind words!!! (Maybe admitting it made me tear up would help? haha) Your response was just as thoughtful and considerate as I thought it would be, but I never expected you'd write so much for a stranger talking about another stranger, let alone throw compliments my way. You're a truly special person and everyone on here, including me, is so lucky we get to hear what you have to say and chat with you :) (And see your wonderful art to boot!! Finding another bug-lover is such a lovely surprise!)

I'll keep your kind thoughts in mind whenever the rare friction comes up again between my friend and me. It was such a quick process for me to desist and become gender critical that I think it's easy for me to forget how much harder it is for people to change their minds on the trans topic when they're so much more invested in it than I was. (Feel the same way about religion too, even as a little kid I was asking questions about why certain things bothered me in the Bible and getting frustrated when I got shame instead of answers. Maybe being annoying and asking too many questions is just in my DNA haha. But all the more reason why it's important to help those who aren't naturally critical: they're the ones falling for unreality the hardest because of that fact.)

Ultimately I will keep being me and see what happens, like I've done before. If nothing comes of it, then there was nothing else I could've done differently anyway. I've asked her if she'd like to do gift exchange for the holidays. We're planning on getting each other a few embarrassingly nerdy collectibles we've been eyeing for a while :)

Thank you again for your help, I'll cherish your words always!!! Hope you have a blast on your trip and get to see all the little guys you could dream of!!!

I'm very glad to hear from you, anon! :) and thank you so much for the kind words! it makes me very happy to be able to help in any way. ❤️

It's funny that you mention questioning the bible as a kid. I went to catholic school and I remember being taught in first grade that we were supposed to love god more than anything. More than we loved our parents or even our dogs, and I just couldn't get past the notion that I had to somehow love the kinda mean, angry, invisible flying grandpa*, who never says a damn thing when I pray, over the actual people who had raised me. I stayed in catholic school until graduation despite opposing catholicism, argued a LOT. I think my point is that I've also kind of been primed for voicing unpopular opinions, so I'm biased when it comes to people who are more hesitant to take any position on the matters at hand.

*sidenote, around this time I obsessively read My Book of Bible Stories (1978) which was given to me by JW doorknockers. This is a bit uncanny, I haven't seen this since I was about 8. It was a treasured book to me, it's full of old testament stories and pretty brutal:

To demonstrate how young I was while reading this: the book refers to god as Jehovah, but I was still learning to read and thought he was called Joseph. So all the adults I told all these Joseph stories to were confused as to why I thought Jesus's stepdad was so OP. Anyway yes, Joseph was a scary guy in my mind, I mean look what he made abraham do before he said sike:

which really didn't give me much faith in him. Kind of a questionable thing to do to a guy tbh. Finally here's the illustration that basically inspired my URL:

Sorry to hijack your ask anon, for some reason your message sent me down memory lane. Finding that pdf was crazy.

ANYWAY: you made my night with yoir nice message, so thanks for that, hope you stay well. I'm happy that it's chill for the time being, and the gift exchange sounds like fun. Come around to chat anytime.✌️

[thebindingofpillo]

Bethany

Bethany is a bit of an odd one out, because unlike the rest of the cast, she is not reincarnated! This is her first time ever being alive! The fact that she happened to be Lazarus’s sister was a complete coincidence. This means she’ll never have to deal with unpleasant memories resurfacing, but also that she’s completely in the dark about anything supernatural going on around her. She doesn’t know about angels, or demons, or that her brother is THE Lazarus, and he is totally cool with that, he wouldn’t want his little sister scarred forever anyway. So… Bethany is just a normal gal! A bit of a nerd, she likes comic books and silly t-shirts (the ballama split is her favourite one), is a huge bookworm and while introverted, she still likes to spend time with her friends and doesn’t mind going out with them. Her introduction is done, more stuff about her under the cut!!

Bethany is Lazarus’s younger sister, and has spent most of her life following her brother to the ER. While not sick, Lazarus was incredibly unlucky, and got into a series of increasingly ridiculous accidents, which landed him in the hospital every single time. Anyway, due to the hospital being quite strict with kids running around and/or being loud, Bethany quickly grew up to be a quiet, introverted kid, perfectly content to spend time on her own. Her parents tried their damn best to always have at least a babysitter or even a neighbour watch over her, but more often than not, the very young Bethany was left to her own devices. This resulted in her spending a lot of time in the hospital waiting room, and when she was old enough, the school’s library, where she quickly developed a deep love for reading. While this was a great way for her to pass time, spending so much time in the library took a toll on her social life, and she didn’t have any friends until way later in life. Even now, most of her friends come from Lazarus’s clique, and are much older than her. She met Jacob and Esau in the hospital (they were in the same room as Lazarus) and Jacob was the one who first introduced her to comics (her second biggest passion after the Lord /j)

Anyway, when Lazarus wasn’t trying to end his own life in a very stupid way, they usually visited their grandparents (who are not gonna feature in the story bc they’re either dead or live too far away and I don’t want to design them), and this is where Beth had her first introduction to Christianity. They even gifted her the Book of Virtues! Something she still holds dear to this day. While her parents were usually too busy to give much thought about religion and Lazarus didn’t really care either way, Beth found solace in her faith, which helped her feel less alone in general. Who wouldn’t feel alone in knowing their guardian angel was constantly watching over them? Beth would spend quite some time talking to god and her guardian angel (in private! As to not be caught talking to herself by the other kids) but this didn’t really helpe her make any new friends. While elementary school was bearable, and her classmates were essentially used to the quiet girl with her nose always buried in a book, things took a turn for the worse in middle school. The kids were shuffled into new classes, her old acquaintances ended up somewhere else, and little Beth found herself surrounded by completely new people who weren’t used to her “quirkiness”. Bethany was quickly singled out by her new classmates, and what started as admittedly innocent teasing, quickly spiralled into full-on bullying. More often than not, Beth would find her beloved books damaged, her personal items stolen and her life generally being made hell. This culminated into an incident where all the girls in her class cornered her in the bathroom and convinced her to let them put makeup on her, to disastrous results.

At the time Beth didn’t really have the tools to communicate what was happening at school, and wasn’t really able to understand that the attention she was receiving from the other girls wasn’t… good. But not having had anyone explain to her what healthy boundaries were, she didn’t really understand what she was going through. She would however, develop quite a bit of school-related anxiety, but not knowing anything about this new and foreign feeling, she just never thought much about it and powered through three years of misery. The only silver lining was her brother, who was always there to support her and help her when the stress got too much for her and she risked failing her classes. Thanks to Lazarus, Bethany never went below a B grade.

Highschool was marginally better, but years of teasing and fake kindness had left Bethany absolutely traumatised, so she didn’t really make any friends there either. Lazarus and the twins tried to mitigate the damage, but an eight year age gap is pretty difficult to fill. During all of this, Beth’s only comfort was her faith. She would pray to God every night, and even if He didn’t really respond, talking to Him still made her feel a little bit better.

Once highschool was out of the way, Bethany’s parents pushed for her to get a degree, and she enrolled to study medicine. Spending so much time in hospitals made her realise how much people needed eachother, and she was eager to help. Or at least, this is what she told herself every night, pouring over increasingly difficult books, taking one class after the other. Bethany might have realised that being a doctor might not be the right career for her, but she’s already got two whole years of university under her belt, it would be a waste to drop out now, right? And her parents are counting on her! She would never let them down. When she’s not studying, Bethany is slowly trying to expand her social circle. She met Samson through Esau, and while the two aren’t incredibly close, she still likes him well enough. Her biggest achievement was meeting and getting to know Maggy and Azazel Zachary, two lovely people she met at mass one Sunday. She’s been working up the courage to ask them to hang out together, or even grab a coffee. And that’s where we are now! She’s currently living with her brother in an apartment their parents have rented for them, so Bethany could be closer to her school. Said apartment is also conveniently close to Jacob and Esau’s house, so the four of them can still hang out together after all these years!

Her personality Ever since I envisioned Beth’s character, I knew I wanted her to be like Ella, my favorite character from Lucifer (which is a pretty good show, esp. the first three seasons). Despite her crippling shyness, and still quite a bit of anxiety due to her past, Bethany is trying her best to be more open to new people, even if it leaves her drained most of the time. Even then, she’s not one to turn down an invitation to go anywhere, or do anything, usually being the first one who suggests outings or activities. It’s almost like she’s trying to prove something! Mainly that she’s not the shut-in of her teenage years anymore. This is Big Girl Bethany, and she has tons of friends and is not afraid of anything and anyone.

On the downside, this often makes her… a bit overbearing. Not everyone can handle somebody who tries to be cheery 100% of the time, and Beth might even overstep a few boundaries while trying to be as friendly as possible. And by constantly trying to put herself out there, she runs a big risk of burning herself out, which in turn could reflect poorly on her grades. Her only friends at the moment are the one she met at mass, so Magdalene and Azazel (who she doesn’t know is a demon) and even then, they haven’t really hung out together yet. But one day!

Note, this “party girl” persona is not a mask, she genuinely likes going out with people and making friends, she has to leave herself enough time to recharge afterwards. Moreover, she still feels unsafe about sharing her interests (mainly reading, comics, and being a nerd) for fear of being ostracised like she was in middle school, so if asked about what she likes to do in her spare time, she either tries to avoid the question or change the subject. She knows, objectively, that adults don’t make fun of other adults for something mundane such as liking things but her trauma runs deep. If shown genuine interest and respect tho, Bethany is quick to open up to people, but this also makes her incredibly easy to manipulate (she’d do anything for her friends) so she tends to approach any and all social situation with extreme caution. Very few of her acquaintances ever made it past the “small talk” stage.

Her faith is also a big part of her identity, and Bethany holds a lot of the core Christian values dear to her heart. However, she does not want to push her faith on everyone else, and is an incredibly accepting person. This is also something she doesn’t really like sharing with people though, as she’s been made fun of for being a prude, or for going to church every Sunday. She soon learned that inviting people to mass with her would have been another source of ridicule, so she stopped talking about anything related to the Lord altogether.She has since gotten over this, and while she won’t invite people to mass with her, she has no problem letting other know she’s Christian and reserve herself sometime to pray and do Christian things.

More stuff that I didn’t know where to put

Her birthday is January 9th because of an inside joke with a friend

Eden is deeply fascinated with her. None of the others had any “normal” siblings for quite a long time, and while they’d love to get closer to Bethany, Lazarus is NOT having it, and will chase them away with a broom if needed

Bethany and Lazarus live together, in an apartment their parents have rented out for them. Lazarus was the first to move out, and then let Bethany have his spare room once she had to go to uni, so she would be closer to her school

She still prays to God every night, more as a way to wind down after a long day or meditate on her current situation. It gets worse when she’s really stressed, and she might even need to excuse herself to recite a couple of Hail Marys to calm down during the day

When she was younger, her parents were the ones who took her to mass, but once she was old enough to go on her own they stopped. Lazarus still goes with her sometimes (mostly for the big celebrations, like Christmas or Easter) but 90% of the time Beth goes alone.

While other kids her age had a witch-y phase, Beth had an angel phase! For a brief period she couldn’t get enough information about angels, and still owns a bunch of books about them. In some way, she’s still interested in them, but more in a spiritual sense this time.

Cannot stand horror movies, but will still try to power through them. I weirdly okay with horror comics and books.

Aaand, that’s kinda it! I’m sure I’ll think about ten other things I wanted to say about Beth, but they’re not coming to my mind right now. Hope you’ll like this stream of consciousness that I didn’t proofread! Feel free to ask about her (or anyone else!) my inbox is always open and I have no life.

[thesunicarusfellfor]

Icarus( did I spell that right? ) my beloved does you have any yandere c! Technoblade and philza with a shy reader stories? 👀

Feel free to take as long as you like I'm in no rush hopefully you don't mind me requesting alot if it's a problem then I will stop requesting as much as I do

Agian I love your writing have a lovely day or evening my beloved(platonic!!)

:D

Darling Mooshroom, I adore you so much (platonically). You have my full permission to fill my inbox with any and all requests that come to mind. I love the ideas you give me and you're the only one who has requested more than once (other than anons but I can't tell with them.)

Also. Philza Philza Philza I FINALLY GET TO WRITE FOR THIS MANS WOOOOOOOOOOOO sorry ignore me. Unfortunately, this story will be shorter than my normal ones because I used up the majority of my brainpower on other stories and I feel bad for keeping you waiting <3 (plat)

(Techno is not part of sleepy bois in this story. Instead, Techno and Philza are ancient gods and set more in like Ancient Egyptian times?? Really low key Yandere in this story)

TW: Yandere, mentions of a creep, getting robbed

Mortal of Gold (Yandere!C!Techno x GN!Shy!Reader x Yandere!C!Philza)

Was it your appearance? Or your shy personality? Perhaps it was the various amounts of golden chains and jewels sprinkled strategically all over your person...

Crows and Piglins were naturally attracted to gold, so that's how Techno justified himself, but Philza wasn't stupid, he's been through this many times before. He knew what being in love was.

But they had never felt so... Strongly towards a mortal before.

The God of Blood and War continued trying to deny his feelings for you, but he always found himself watching you shuffle around the Ancient DreamSMP, curled in on yourself as you walked to and from shrines for the gods that you had made.

Philza, the God of Survival and Crows, leaned over a bowl of ink and water and stared into the swirling designs, watching as it shifted into a picture. He saw a lovely figure kneeling at the base of a statue, placing a bowl of fresh bread and cakes, before lighting some incense and standing up, their head dipped in silent prayer.

The winged god chuckled softly and adjusted his large hat before cupping his hands together in a bowl shape. Slowly, with very minor concentration, a golden chain appeared with an emerald heart shape dangling off of it. With a small but sharp whistle, a black crow swooped in through the window and perched itself on his arm, "Yes Dadza?" It chirped telepathically, tilting its head curiously.

"Hello, my child. I would like you to place this on the young mortal's doorstep. I trust you will be able to find it?" He smiled softly and held out the piece of jewellery to the feathered creature who picked it up in its beak.

"Sure, Dadza!" The bird gave a squawk before hopping over to the bowl of ink and water to study the appearance of the mortal. "Oh! It's (Y/n) again! Didn't Technoblade recently cause a man to meet his end because he was rude to them?"

The man sighed, rubbing his face with his free hand, "Yes, Techno is brash like that... I should speak to him about that after... Now, be on your way. I would like them to receive the gift before they start putting their faith in other gods." With another telepathic chirp, the bird quickly took flight and headed out the window. Once his beloved crow, Chat, was gone, he leaned over the bowl again.

The mortal was now praying to Technoblade's shrine, after giving an offering of beer and herbs with the incense now re-lit. Phil decided to disperse the image with a wave of his hand, beginning to make his way to his old friend, the God of War and Blood.

With a flurry of black feathers, Philza landed on the balcony Techno had designed specifically for him and closed his wings neatly behind him, "Techno?" He called, walking through the red curtains into the room of the God. When his emerald-coloured eyes landed on the tall man, he discovered that he was hunched over a large bronze dish like he had been moments ago.

"Yeah, I'm here." The pink-haired male sighed, adjusting his glasses before pushing his long hair out of his face as he looked up from the bowl. "What do you need, Phil?"

"I'm here to discuss (Y/n). That mortal we are both smitten with?" He watched as the god's cheeks visibly turned pink despite his tough demeanour, causing Philza to chuckle into his hand, "Relax. It's obvious. And I know how you had one of your followers beheaded that poor fisherman."

"Millionaires. Not followers." Techno retorted with a scoff as he stepped away from the bowl filled with likely water and ink. "In my defence he deserved it. He should've known better and held his tongue when being in the presents of one of my worshipers."

Phil wasn't able to hold back his sigh, "Millionaires? Good grief Techno, you're just making up words at this point. Besides, that's not the main reason I flew out here," The Survival God's eyes suddenly darkened, catching Techno off guard but nonetheless made him happy, "I heard... That (Y/n) has been getting threats from the village of L'Manberg."

Techno frowned at the thought of anything happening to their favourite mortal. The images that appeared in his mind caused the voices in his head to roar in anger, demanding for human blood to be spilt across his shrines.

"Yeah. I suggest we put a stop to it. But, I do want to meet our little mortal..." Philza smirked a bit, raising his hand in an attempt to stop Techno from seeing how violent his thoughts were becoming towards the humans.

-

You couldn't help but smile as you saw the new jewellery that had been placed at your doorstep, scooping it up into your hands and taking a moment to put the necklace and solid gold armband on. You were quite aware that the vast amounts of jewellery covering your body made you a target for thieves, but you trusted in your gods to keep you safe.

On your eighteenth birthday, your village had dressed you up and offered you to the gods in exchange for safety and a good harvest, chaining you in the middle of the dessert on a stone platform. You would have perished from starvation had a black crow not have carried a basket filled with the ripest and fresh fruits you had ever had. That's when you knew that Philza was watching over you.

Technoblade had started watching over you not long after that. On a trip into the village for yeast to make bread to offer Philza, a creep had cornered you in an alleyway. He began making disgusting remarks towards you, but a man with glowing gold eyes and red sclera came up and pummeled him into the ground before completely vanishing. It had been a high priest of Technoblade's Syndicate temple who told you that it was the God of Blood and War who saved you.

"Look," Techno whispered under his breath as he saw you standing in your doorway with a soft smile. Philza peaked around the corner as well, watching you attach the jewellery to your (s/t) skin with a smile of his own, "I take it the necklace is from you?" The tusked male asked as he pulled the hood on his cheap commoner clothing up to cover his noticeable pink hair.

Phil did the same, trying to hide his inhumane blue eyes from view, while also trying to shoo away Chat who was relentlessly teasing the two of them, "Sh! Chat, it's not like- No. Shut. WHat?! I'm not being a creep!" He hissed to the blackbird, trying to bat it away with his free hand, while Techno was snickering to himself, "Wait, no! This is my bread, (Y/n) made it for me! Get your own!"

After watching his old friend get bullied by Chat for a few minutes, he turned back to watch you walk back out of your home, holding the cup of beer you had placed at his shrine earlier today. Your offerings were always his favourite... He would burn this entire village down if they tried to chain you into the desert again... Actually.. That was a good idea...

The two gods silently followed behind you, watching you nervously try your best to avoid social conversation, but they noticed how the other mortals seemed to look down upon you for wearing so much golden jewellery.

"H-he-hello..." You murmured out meekly as you approached the man selling fruits and different herbs. Leaning forward, you carefully inspected the cranberries and cinnamon specifically, knowing that they were Philza's and Technoblade's favourite offerings.

You heard footsteps walking behind you, but because the market was busier than normal today, you decided to brush it off. Until you felt someone gently grab the golden jewellery dangling from your ears, giving it a light pull, "Solid gold, ey? Aren't you a poor little peasant?" A voice male voice cooed softly in your ear, causing you to spin around quickly, backing up until you hit the table that all the fruit and herbs were placed on.

Dream. The high priest of DreamXD's temple. The God of Control and Manipulation. This man truly believed he was the walking incarnate of the god himself, and even named himself after the god! Truly a maniac...

"Dream..." You murmured softly, your body trembling and flinching away from his touch, "I-I'm not giving them to you for you to offer up to your twisted god... I worship Technoblade and Philza... No one else."

The masked man growled in annoyance before he snapped his fingers and two men in masks grabbed onto your shoulders before beginning to tear the golden jewellery off of your body. Snapping the golden chains off from around your neck and wrists, pulling the earrings out of your ears and the golden bands from around your biceps. The entire time you yelped and begged for them to leave the gifts you had received from your gods alone, everyone else around you putting their heads down and averting their eyes, pretending not to see you.

A flurry of black feathers clouded your vision and you heard three hard thuds before a loud barking voice echoed through your ears.

"How DARE you!"

"Techno! Help me burn this damned village to the ground!"

[ghostofbambifanfiction]

Part 1 of ?????

Started writing this fic a while ago and then lost faith in it. Should I continue? Feel bad for not posting much lately so I thought I'd share this. Read on and weigh in.

COME OUT TONIGHT

NO

You don't have to fucking shout?

Said the pot to the kettle?

Oh you grandmother The caps were an accidental by-product of voice-to-text Blame Siri if you're going to blame anyone

You have a Samsung Galaxy S20.

HAD. It got smashed. Worst luck. Listen, come out with me tonight.

Urghhhhhhhhhhhhhh I'm tired!

https://www.boots.com/wellness/vitaminsandsupplements/vitamins-supplements-shop-by-ingredient/echinacea

Hah (indifferent)

Just come out with me! Isaac has to go see some godawful student performance of the Antigone in wherever the fuck Chichester is and it's Sirius's flatmate's birthday party so I have to go and I don't know any of his weird mates

You don't HAVE to go.

Have to/want to Semantics

I'm not in a birthday party mood. I'm having a stressful week. My arse has been tense since Tuesday.

I will wade into the deep and massage your arse if I have to, just come It's a swank pad in Belgravia! I bet they'll have all sorts of expensive nibbles!

I read that as expensive nipples.

Those too!

Partying it up with the children of wealthy Tories. Sounds super fun.

Just come out with me, for fuck I'll pick you up at 7 and we can steal their silverware if it's boring as the grave

URGH I'll go but I'm NOT dressing up!

You don't have to dress up!

FINE!

*

take the drawings down please i'm begging you i'm actually begging you

Nah mate

siriusssssssss pleeeeeease

Nah

PLEASE

Nah

PLEASE ffs it's MY birthday!!!! there are going to be PEOPLE there! standing around! AT EYE LEVEL

I don't see what the problem is.

EVERYONE will see what the problem is! they literally will not be able to IGNORE what the problem is!

Sounds like a recipe for lively discussion to me tbh

that is NOT what i want people talking about at my birthday!

If I take them down, I'll have to take all the nails out and that'll leave nail marks all over the walls. It would be unsightly.

MORE UNSIGHTLY THAN YOUR DICK, SIRIUS?

My dick is bewitching.

DIE

*

She walks in expecting to find herself the infiltrator of a Made in Chelsea/Royal Ascot/Henley Regatta netherworld, filled with a gaggle of giggling, SW-postcode socialites wielding suspiciously powder-edged Harrods Amex cards in the place of horses and boats, but that's not what actually greets her on the other side of the lacquered front door.

What greets her is really quite ordinary.

Aside from the naked drawings of Kingsley's mate, which aren't.

Otherwise, the whole affair is pretty relaxed. People her age are clustered in their small groups, swigging beers. There's a table of oven-heated party foods, salty snacks and rapidly depleting ramekins of guac. She spies more band shirts than there are dress shirts. There's a round of Fortnite in full swing on the TV.

It's all just...startlingly normal. A normal birthday party.

And that's sort of embarrassing, really.

Where are all the visible Tory toffs, she wonders? Where is the braying laughter? The Eton alumni reunion? The glimpse of hunting-happy tweed and shotgun barrels as a coat cupboard door swings shut? Where's the indelible air of sneering superiority, of "we're richer and more privileged and better than you, so fuck the NHS and death to foxes!" that she'd been expecting? There's a fucking Henry Hoover in the corner of the hall, for Christ's sake. Lily came here to smile through her teeth at them all, to listen to the champagne problems privilege that bubbled from their lips and tell herself that she was the one who knew better, who thought better. Her plain white tee and skinny jeans and scuff-toed, high-top trainers were supposed to be a statement, a subtle setting-apart, but she's not even the most underdressed person in the room.

She pre-judged a house full of people. What's that about?

There's a lesson to be found in this. Perhaps.

*

James covered all of the dicks in Paw Patrol stickers that he bought from the newsagent on his way home from his mum's, but Sirius peeled them all off while he was taking a soothing lavender bath, so what's the bloody point in birthdays anyway?

It's early in the evening, and he's wedged—against his will—between the dining room bar and Shane Ruttle, who has just pointed at one of the many lamentable dicks and asked, "Is this one of yours?" which James kind of wants to thump him for. It's bad enough that he looks like a madman who stuffed his house with naked drawings of his brother, now people are actually assuming that he drew the damn things, even though most of the compositions are appallingly far beneath his skill level. He's a professional illustrator, for the love of god, and Shane is really standing before him like the posturing prick he is, asking him if he's the one who drew Sirius with one arm disproportionately longer than the other.

He knows that he should cheer up.

It is his birthday. There is cake.

Good cake, too, not the kind that gets buried in too-thick fondant that he has to pick off before he can eat what's underneath.

The problem is, there's also a party, and his friends are his friends, Peter and Sirius included, and Peter and Sirius can both get drunk much faster than James can. When Peter and Sirius get drunk, serious injuries tend to follow, Remus tends to fuck off in a flash and James tends to be the one who calls for an ambulance or mothers them back to health—physical, mental or otherwise. He has just turned twenty-six, and these repeated, drunkenly dramatic medical emergency scenes are starting to wear a little thin.

Can't a man get comfortably drunk and have a laugh at his own birthday party?

No, he can't, because Peter's already halfway to trashed, wobbling unsteadily towards the French doors that lead to the terrace, wearing that look on his face that says I'm definitely going to vomit or maybe even shit myself like I did on that one night we all spent in Munich with the Belgian handball team and the creepy tour guide who couldn't keep his sleazy hands to himself. For the sake of sparing the lawn such a punishment, James hastily removes himself from Shane, grabs Peter by the collar, shoves him in the direction of the downstairs loo and retreats to the safety of the living room, where there are, at least, no naked drawings of Sirius gracing the walls.

Most of the people in here are transfixed by Saffy Stephens, who is down to the last three in her Fortnite game and cursing like a sailor, but there are a small pile of birthday cards on the end table where James and Sirius normally keep their keys. He perches on the sofa arm, sets his half-drunk beer bottle on the carpet, pushes his dark, disheveled hair away from his forehead and begins leafing through them. It's a necessity when one lives with Sirius, who thinks nothing of swiping gift cards when the mood strikes him and he's had enough to drink.

They're mostly from his female friends, and all pretty standard, until he reaches the middle of the pile and finds a card bearing a picture of a moustached tabby and the caption: Have a Purr-fect Birthday!

The inscription inside is written in a lovely, swirling hand.

To Jasper/Jack/Jason/maybe Ja Rule?/J-something idk

(see above: everything I've learned about you from the friend* I came here with, verbatim)

(*who can't remember your name)

Happy Birthday! Thank you for (not) specifically inviting me, a stranger, to your party to celebrate this momentous event in your life. Please enjoy this festive card/social nicety/convention from me to you. My friend brought rum which you may prefer.

I'll be around. Not that you'll know.

LE

James lowers the card and twists on the sofa arm at once, eyes darting around the room in search of its author, as if they might be laying in wait to watch him read it and see how he reacts. Nobody appears to have ducked behind the couch, however, so the situation merits further scrutiny.

Obviously, he needs to meet this person.

A mystery! At his birthday party!

He perks right up after that.

*

She's coming out of the downstairs loo when a short, blonde man in a garish Hawaiian shirt barrels past her and pukes all over the chequerboard tiled floor, narrowly missing her jeans.

"Oh no," he moans into his wet hands. "Oh no—"

"There there, mate," says Lily consolingly, never one to judge somebody for getting drunk early at a party. She pats him on the back before squeezing past him and rejoining Kingsley, who is standing in one of this meandering Georgian house's many hallways, chatting to a bloke in a houndstooth sweater vest and holding two glasses of something very, very sparkly that she must try at once.

"It's like...it's like everything and nothing at the same time," Houndstooth Bloke is saying when Lily draws close, gesturing to a huge canvas painting of a rain-soaked fairground at night.

"Is it?" Kingsley asks.

"Mmm. Very." Houndstooth shakes his shoulders like he's slipping out of a robe. "Meant to be esoteric, I suppose."

That sounds suspiciously like pretentious bullshit to Lily, who doesn't find the concept of a merry looking fairground all that difficult to absorb. Kingsley knows more about the art world than she does, but he must agree with her assessment because he grunts and shoves her glass into her hand when she stops beside him, and more roughly than she deserves, as if she's the one who landed him in this mess of a conversation to begin with.

Trust him to find himself stuck with the only dick (not etched by a 4B Steadtler graphite pencil) in the building, and trust her to be stuck with the person who got himself stuck with King.

"What are we talking about?" she asks brightly, just to fuck with him.

"Drink your champagne, there's a good little hen," King mutters, his teeth clenched together, hallway lights bouncing off the smoothly waxed dome of his bald head.

"We've been discussing this piece." Houndstooth nods to the painting, but his limpid eyes narrow on Lily's face. "Christ, you're very redheaded, aren't you?"

It's decided. She'll wait 'til Houndstooth is drunk and trip him up with Henry Hoover's hose.

"Ergo soulless, yes," she agrees.

"And you...enjoy that?" he asks, as if being redheaded is her profession.

"Very much, thanks."

"Hmmp. Well. I came here with Saffron," he announces, pronouncing it Sef-ron. As if Lily is supposed to know who that is. "Platonically, of course. Actually, we're some sort of cousins, I think. What do you think the artist is trying to convey?"

He's very pointedly asking her, so Lily blinks at the painting, her eyes on the outstretched arm of a child on the carousel.

"I like the pretty colours," she decides aloud.

"Right," says Houndstooth, "but that's not—"

"And the lights, too. The lights are really pretty."

"But—"

"I love funfairs, actually," she brightly continues, finding a strange satisfaction in playing dumb in front of Houndstooth and his overbleached fade. Although she does really like the colours. "Haven't been to one in years!"

"Yes, good, whatever, but what is the artist trying to convey?"

"What artist?" comes a voice from behind them.

Lily glances over her shoulder and finds herself looking up at the man whose penis she's spent the past thirty minutes avoiding eye contact with, though he is taller, better proportioned and infinitely more beautiful than any of those crudely drawn depictions could possibly convey. He is also beplumed and bejewelled like a pirate, wearing a sumptuous velvet jacket over a loose white shirt, numerous rings on his fingers and an assortment of silver chains around his slender neck, while his grey eyes and elegantly high-set cheekbones are framed by a tumble of black hair that genuinely looks like silk.

The man is so beautiful, in fact, that Lily immediately wonders why he's been taking sketches home from the life drawing class that he and Kingsley pose for—hence their acquaintance and Lily's presence at this party—when nothing she's seen tonight has done him any justice.

Most happily, his penis is tucked safely out of sight.

"Alright, Sirius?" says King.

"Alright, Marvel?" Sirius claps a hand to the taller man's massive shoulder. Kingley's muscles bulge in a way that cannot be hidden by modern habiliments. "What are we talking about?"

"Not much." Houndstooth looks put out by the arrival of yet another person. "We were just mesmerised by this piece."

Lily refrains from gesturing to the painting with both hands and a "ta-dah!" choosing instead to sip her champagne.

It's very good champagne. Mmm. Yes.

"Oh, yeah, it's really something," Sirius agrees. He brushes past Kingsley and runs a finger over the illegible squiggle of a signature on the canvas. His nails are beautifully manicured. "Local guy, young up-and-comer. I assume you've heard of Algernon?" he asks Houndstooth, fixing him with a steely-eyed stare.

"Er, yes." Houndstooth's gaze slides from Sirius to the painting. "I know him."

Sirius's eyebrows lift. "Know him personally?"

"Well—"

"That's so weird, I heard he never speaks to people."

Houndstooth chews on the inside of his cheek, weighing up the challenge. "How…funny."

"Funny?"

"Oh, nothing. It's just, I know I've spoken to him before, and since you've bought his painting I assumed that you'd have—"

"That is funny, actually," Sirius interrupts, "because the artist is my brother, and Algernon is the name of his cat."

Kingsley has been tugging on his earring and almost rips it out of his ear as his body convulses, champagne spraying from his nostrils, while an alarming red flush sweeps across Houndstooth's face and he begins to sputter on his own self-importance. Sirius has clearly decided that he's done with all of that noise, however, because he turns back to Lily instead, looking her up and down with great and sudden interest.

"Who's this then?" he asks Kingsley, cocking his head to one side. "James's present?"

The champagne glass swings down and Lily fixes him with a deadpan stare. "Excuse me?"

Sirius slants a grin at Kingsley, a quick flash of teeth. "This one's queenly, isn't she?"

Kingsley wipes his nose with the back of his hand and laughs again. "Hardly."

"This is Primark, mate," Lily retorts, tugging on her t-shirt.

"Queenliness is a state of mind," says Sirius, "not a state of wardrobe."

"You had me marked down as a prostitute not ten seconds ago."

"Oh, that. I was only joking," he sighs, and grips her arm at the elbow, his long fingers cool against her skin. "But still, you're far too attractive to stand here talking to this clown. Come with me and I'll find you someone better."

*

James's friends are useless.

And drunk. Useless and drunk—or sort of drunk, in Saffy's case. Remus is certainly already pissed, but Remus is on meds so often that he drinks but once in a blue moon. One cocktail is usually enough to set him off, and he's been hard at the gin since he turned up with Peter at six.

"I don't know anyone with those initials," Saffy declares, once she has read, examined and even sniffed the birthday card for clues. "Except for Lisa Edelstein."

"Who's Lisa Edelstein?"

"Cuddy from House," says Remus, lowering the negroni from which he has been drinking deeply.

James pulls a face. "What the fuck is a Cuddy?"

"Oh, actually, it could mean le?" Remus suggests.

"Yes!" Saffy points at him like he might be onto something. "Like the French word for the?"

"Exactly, like—"

"It doesn't mean that!" James interrupts, unwilling to allow such profanity in his home. "That doesn't make sense, why would somebody sign their name as the?"

"Now you're asking me to explain how French people think?" says Saffy derisively, adjusting her bra strap beneath that burnt orange waistcoat she loves, the one that makes her look like she's directing a pornographic movie in the 70s when she pairs it with her tortoiseshell-framed aviators. It clashes wildly with her electric blue buzz-cut. "Am nooooo drunk enough for that."

"They could be one of those one word moniker pop stars, I suppose," Remus pipes up, smiling slyly. "You know, like Madonna?"

They think James doesn't realise that they're taking the piss out of him, but neither of them are sober enough to attempt their gambit with any kind of subtlety or grace.

"You know that's actually her real Christian name?" says Saffy.

Remus turns towards her with interest. "What, Madonna?"

"Yeah!"

"Really?"

"Yeah!" Saffy repeats. "I thought it couldn't possibly be her real name because, I mean, Madonna, yeah? But then I looked it up and apparently that's the name her mummy gave her, just goes to show—"

"I'm sorry," James interrupts, "but is Madonna relevant to this conversation?"

"Yes, always," says Saffy.

"She's an international pop megastar," Remus seconds.

James stares at his friend incredulously. "Drinking really chips away at your wit, y'know?"

"Does it?" Remus grins lazily and jiggles his cocktail in the air. "Oh, well, I'm negronly joking."

Saffy does a spit-take without the spit and clings helplessly to Remus's shoulder as she laughs, knees buckling, bangles tinkling, but James fights his own urge to start snickering.

"It's not that funny," he lies, and Remus eyes him with an alarmingly teacher-like shrewdness, despite the tellingly intoxicated flush that has crept into his thin, freckled face.

James's love of puns is tragically well known.

"You didn't get it." Remus points at his drink. His speech is starting to slur. "This is a negroni, what I said was—"

"Yeah, I got that part, I just—"

"Jesus fuck, look at her!" Saffy suddenly hisses, staggering sideways into Remus and sending him into the wall in a flurry of giggles—Remus giggling?—her voice hushed and urgent. "Who the hell is that?!"

James does look, following the direction of Saffy's gaze. Sirius has just entered the living room, casually clutching the elbow of a……

……goddess.

An actual. Like. Goddess.

A goddess. In James's house. In his living room. In the place where he eats his chocolate boulder cereal and rewatches Scrubs (even season 9, which is hilarious, and very unfairly disparaged by Joe Public) on Saturday mornings.

She's a goddess. A real one, and cleverly disguised as a mortal, sure, with her slouchy white t-shirt and her big hoop earrings and her light blue jeans that are torn at the knees, wearing her shoulder-length red hair half up, half down and slightly messy, but that doesn't hide what she is.

"Oh my god," he murmurs. His heart is pounding all of a sudden, which is so...utterly bloody stupid, but Saffy's right, bloody look at her, Jesus fuck.

"Surely she can't be with Sirius?" Saffy murmurs back.

"No, she—" He watches Sirius lean down to mutter something in the redhead's ear. A ghost of a laugh flits across her beautiful face. "She's not his—he isn't—"

"D'you think—"

"No, I—"

"Good," says Saffy firmly. She lets go of Remus and rises, lengthening her spine. It is a battle stance of some sort, presumably. "Because I saw her first."

"No!" James cries, wounded, and the redhead shoots him a curious look with a pair of eyes that are startlingly emerald green, even from all the bloody way over here. He spins to face Saffy and lowers his voice, face burning. "It's my house!"

"What are you arguing here, ownership rights?"

"No but it—it's my birthday!" James retorts, jabbing at his own chest. "And, actually, and—"

"It's in the bloody post!"

"—you didn't get me a present!" he finishes in triumph, not that he knows what he's arguing for, because the likelihood is that his tongue will glue itself to the roof of his mouth if he even dares to look in her direction one more time. "Plus I set you up with Vanya Petrich, with whom, as I recall, you enjoyed four years—"

"Stop throwing that in my face!"

"—four blissful years—"

"Is it my fault that you've never fancied any girl I've set you up with?!"

"—promised me an Easter ham for setting you up with her and I never got it—"

"So now you'll trade a woman for a ham?" Saffy accuses, though her face is too lit up, her brown eyes too crinkled at the corners—she's having fun with this and she isn't going to fool him and she knows it. "That's so low, even—"

"Don't start with that," James scathingly cuts in. "You offered me Sean Connery's autograph for Bonnie Grogan's number—"

"Which you never gave me!"

"Because you forged the bloody signature!"

"And now she's bloody married!"

"Yeah, well, Isabella wouldn't give me a counterfeit present, would she?" he retorts, and Saffy lets her shoulders drop, smirking. "This is pointless, Saf, we can't—"

"She's just left with Sirius," Remus informs them, and burps.

[searenbound]

This took me so long to get done and I wish I could tell you why but I got nothing. So uh here and Please let me know how it was! I might do more stuff like this because I enjoyed writing it.

Warnings: swearing, mutual voyeurism, masturbation

It was funny really. How innocent everyone thought her to be. How sweet and demure she was believed to be. How naive he thought she was. It was hilarious just how oblivious he assumed she was to his old habit when in reality it was the reverse.

She was a number of things. Smart, kind, a total whore for his undivided attention, but never has she been innocent or naive. It was evident in her favorite pass time of frustrating the living hell out of her perpetually angry neighbor. Her neighbor who just couldn’t keep his eyes off her.

He always had hard time with that, ever since high school. It was something she didn’t realize she would miss so much when they graduated. She had grown so used to his intense gaze that it had felt wrong to not be watched by him.

So imagine her absolute elation when she discovered that not only was her new home close to his, but that his bedroom window looked into hers. More importantly, that she had a full unobstructed view of him sitting on his bed, his hungry eyes scanning over her as she stripped down. He must have missed her just as badly to just assume that she wasn’t able to see him. She figured he must’ve forgotten that her quirk granted her super vision. His room being pitch black didn’t mean much when she could see him crystal clearly regardless.

She was beyond thrilled with this. He still wanted her. Still lusted for her. She sighed dreamily, she was so happy. So happy in fact, that she wanted to give him a special treat. She bit her lip, pressing her thighs together at the thoughts that ran through her mind. She’s never gone this far for him before, really she just pranced around her room in various states of undress, but her body ached for this. Besides he really did deserve something really special for waiting this long for her.

She had to start slow though. Get him all riled up and wanting more of her. She faced her mirror to examine her own form, thrilled to feel the set of burning red eyes set fire to her body. She wondered how much hotter that gaze would be if she was face to face with him.

If he was sitting on her bed watching her innocently fussing with her hair, before turning this and that way to admire her own ample curves. If he’d watch patiently until she was ready to give him her attention or if he would wrap his arms around her thick waist and demand she stop teasing while her hands ran up her thighs, over her hips and stomach before resting over his arms.

How gentle would he be?

How rough?

Would he praise her?

Tease and toy with her?

Would he take her right there against the mirror or lay her down on the bed?

The possibilities were exciting her more than she had thought they would. She ran her fingers along her clothed sex, shuddering at her own sensitivity and biting her lip. She had wanted to tease him just a little bit longer, but she just couldn’t hold out anymore. She had to rush this game a little bit and take care of this quickly developing neediness now.

If only she could have heard the noise he made when she laid on her bed, sliding her panties over those plush thighs of hers. It was somewhere between a chocked moan and startled gasp. Something he thanked every possible deity in existence that she couldn’t hear.

He got over his shock quickly, to preoccupied with the sight of that cute little slut spreading herself open. He never thought he’d get a chance to see her like this. Hell, he didn’t even think he would ever get another chance to watch her walk around in those skimpy things she called underwear. A good eyeful of her greedy, pretty little cunt wasn’t something he ever thought he’d be blessed enough to get the privilege of seeing. Even if it was from a distance, even if she wasn’t aware of it, he wouldn’t take this opportunity she was presenting him for granted.

He groaned lowly, palming himself while she put on her little show for him. He wasn’t going to let this chance slip away from him. He was going to hold out as long as he could and take his time, really enjoy this. After all this time he deserved to indulge in this didn’t he?

He’s never even considered another woman other than her. He was completely faithful and loyal to her even if she didn’t know it yet. He’d tell her that someday, maybe someday soon, but for now he’ll just indulge in the way she played with herself. The thought of her possibly getting off to him exciting him further. If only he knew.

“K-Katsuki mm… fuck” she whined, spreading her legs wide, refusing to hide anything from his lustful gaze. He deserved this. He deserved all of her and maybe someday she’d work up the courage to give herself to him properly. For now though, knowing he was just the next building over watching her get herself off would have to do.

She gave a breathy moan, pumping her fingers in and out of herself. She loved this. Loved how it felt to have his eyes all over her again. She couldn’t help but wonder how his hands would feel though.

She shudder at the thought. Lifting her other hand to her chest, pinching and rolling her nipple in between her fingers and closing her eyes.“Katsu” she whined , wishing he was the one working her clit instead. Rubbing and massaging the bundle of nerves occasionally giving it a pinch before sliding his fingers into her sopping cunt.

She could practically here the way he would groan, praising her body and telling her how badly he needed her while he made her come undone with just his fingers.

“What a dirty little slut you are” she moaned, closing her eyes and imagining him with her, growling against her neck as he spoke. She could almost feel him over her, just barely able to imagine his calloused fingers rubbing against her inner walls as he continued to speak “Hiding such a cute little pussy from me for so long, making me wait for you like this”.

She let her thoughts snap back from her fantasy at the realization that he was in fact still waiting for her while she focused just a little too much on herself. This was meant to be a gift for him after all.

She should at least make sure he was enjoying himself shouldn’t she?

She chanced a look at him, hoping he wouldn’t realize she was aware of his actions. If he found out like this she would never live it down.

Her breath hitched at the sight of him tugging off his clothes. The fact that he had so much restraint to just sit there and watch her was somehow more attractive than if he had been getting himself off to her. Something about it made her feel so wanted. Like even without being aware of it he had put her needs first.

Maybe it was just her lust talking or maybe it was the fact that he had never been the patient type, but it drove her crazy regardless.

The sight of his cock once he finally got his damn pants off only confirmed what she already knew. She needed him so badly but for now “F-fuck… Katsu” for now this had to do.

Her breath came out in stutters pants, slowly pumping two of her fingers in and out of herself. She kept her eyes on him, focused how his hand worked himself and wishing she was the one getting him off herself.

She did her best to commit his actions to memory. Hoping to learn how to make him feel good watching him pump himself. Slow and firm strokes that slowly built in speed similar to her own fingers that delved into her.

A loud moan lift her when she realized that he had to be mimicking her tempo. Was he trying to keep with her? Was he imagining that he was the one fucking her? God what she’d give to know for certain. To know what he was thinking, what exactly his moving lips were saying.

"Damn Princess…" he groaned watching her bring her other hand up to play with her chest “You’re so fucking gorgeous”. He began picking up his pace, intently watching her eyes screwing shut and adding a third finger to fuck herself with.

What a sensitive little slut he fell for. So pretty with her desperate face and shaky legs. He wondered how much she could handle. If she could take it once he got his hands on her and just how damn beautiful she’d look coming undone up close.

He wanted know everything and just imagining that cute little pussy of hers clenching and twitching around him wasn’t enough anymore. He needed more.

He needed to actually feel her. Watch her whole body bounce with every buck of his hips. Hear her pretty little moans and listen to the way his name fell from her lips.

He could almost hear when he focused. “K-Katsuki, Katsu please. I’m gonna- ahah!“ his hips snapped up, thrusting himself into his hand frantically. He threw his head back, letting himself get caught up in his fantasies of her with his eyes shuts tight. Trying to imagine fucking her instead of his own hand.

He laid back, imagining how her tight, wet warmth would feel around his cock. Her adorable incoherent babbling where the only sense she made was his name and desperate love yous. Another moan left his lips, the muscles in his thighs tensing. He sighed and swore under his breath stroking himself hard.

He so close, he didn’t even care that he’d get off before she could finish for him. He just needed his release. “F-fuck, damn (Yn)” he groaned thrusting into his hand and moving his free hand to his balls, rolling and massaging them.

He spared her one last look before spiraling off the edge. The sight of body locked in her own orgasm pushing him into his own.

[xu-ren]

A Kinder End

Genre: Fluff and angst

Pairings: Diarmuid (Fate/Zero) x reader

Wordcount: 2000+

My requests and askbox are open, so pretty please don't be shy.

Masterpost

*~*~*

“Lancer, prepare yourself! I can’t hold this spell for long.” Lancer readied himself at [Name]’s words. “God of the North wind, Boreas, God of the East wind, Eurus, God of the South wind, Notus, God of the East wind, Zephyus, Your faithful servant besieged you to lend get your strength so that she may vanquish her mighty foe!”

The wind tore her hair away from her usual bun, letting it whip freely around her. Had it been any other time, Lancer would have appreciated the sight of her unbound black tress. As it was, the wind she summoned started to clear a path to Caster. Lancer tensed up as her wind went closer and closer to Caster. ‘Come on…Just a bit more…’ Just as Lancer caught a glimpse of Caster, her spell failed and she collapsed.

“My lady…!” Luckily, he managed to catch her just before she hit the ground and lowered her down gently. Saber and Rider, who had stopped their assault on Caster when [Name] started her spell, prepared to resume their assault on Caster. Rider offered to buy them time to think of another plan to defeat Caster as [Name]’s plan had failed. Lancer didn’t hesitate to break Gáe Buidhe so that Saber could defeat Caster. His number one priority was to get [Name] to safety now that she was unconscious and vulnerable. However, he had to ensure that Caster was defeated first so he stood at the water’s edge cradling [Name] carefully as he watched Saber defeat Caster.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

Lancer laid [Name] down as gently as possible at an abandoned building. It was unfortunately the best place that he could find for now.

“Lan…cer?”

“My lady!” *Her eyes narrowed for a brief moment before they relaxed again. It was a testament to her weariness that she didn’t even bother to correct him.

“Where are we?” “An abandoned building, my lady. I apologise, it was the best…” Lancer trailed off as [Name] raised a hand to silence him. They both kept silent as [Name]’s eyes darted around, absorbing every minute detail of their surroundings.

“Diarmuid, where’s Gáe Buidhe?”

“I…broke it so that Saber could defeat Caster. I apolo…” This time, [Name] pushed herself up and placed a finger upon Lender’s lips to silence him. They stayed as they were for what seemed to be an eternity until [Name] collapsed upon Lancer’s chest. What meagre strength she had accumulated from her brief rest had been spent.

“You are apologising a lot today, aren’t you, Diarmuid?” asked [Name], her tone mildly scolding.

“I apolo-“

“You are doing it again, Diarmuid. You have no reason to apologise to me, after all, you merely did what you thought was best at that moment. Besides, we are a team, not master and servant.”

By the end of her short speech, her voice was scarcely a whisper. If not for their proximity, he would have never heard it.

“My lady…”

Suddenly, Lancer tensed up and he tightened his hold on [Name].

“Diarmuid?”

“Someone’s here.”

“Go, Diarmuid.”

“My lady…”

“Go on, I await your return.”

“Yes, my lady.”

He hated to leave [Name] alone, especially when she was so vulnerable but he couldn’t disobey her either.He wasn’t very surprised when it was Saber who met him in the courtyard of the abandoned building. At the very least, they would finally be able to finish their battle.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

She watched from her spot as the two servants fought it out. Such honourable warriors, there were no one more deserving of the title ‘Heroic Spirits. She was glad to have met them despite her reluctance to enter this war in the first place.

Suddenly, a shadow was casted upon her and she looked up to see Kiritsugu pointing a gun at her. 

“Mr. Kiritsugu, how…expected,” she whispered quietly as her lips formed a small, wry smile. 

He put his finger to his lips in the universal gesture of silence. She cocked her head to the side. In response, Kiritsugu hands her a scroll.

‘A Self-Geas Scroll. A magical item used by Magi to form an unbreakable contract. Binding spell… Affected Party: Emiya Kiritsugu. The Emiya family crest orders the following. The pledge is to be observed by the affected party upon fulfilment of the conditions described herein. Pledge: Kiritsugu, son of Norikata and the fifth descendant of the House of Emiya, will be forever forbidden from harming or intending to harm, [Name] [Middle Name] [Last Name]. Condition…’

 After reading the scroll, she looked at Kiritsugu searchingly. She gathered the magick stored at the amulet around her neck before speaking into his mind. To his credit, he didn’t even flinch. In fact, the only outwardly respond he showed was the slight widening of his eyes.

‘I won’t do it.’

Kiritsugu responded by pulling the safety of his gun.

‘After all, it doesn’t matter, does it? You are going to kill me either way. A master without a servant can form a pact with another servant and you can ill afford that.’

For a moment, she thought that she saw a shadow of surprise pass through Kiritsugu’s face.

‘Kill me, Emiya Kiritsugu. Let me be but another life you sacrificed in your quest to save the world. However, will you listen to this girl’s final wish?’

He lowered his gun slightly and she took it as her cue to continue.

‘Ensure that my death isn’t instant.’

This time, she definitely saw the surprise on his face. She smirked. It was a highly unusual wish as most people hoped for the opposite.

‘I wish to say farewell to Lancer.’

He nodded and shot her in the aorta, ensuring that it gazed the aorta so that she would bleed out in 5 minutes.

‘Thank you.’

The gunshot rang across the abandoned building.

Lancer’s head whipped towards the direction where the gunshot came from so fast that he gave himself whip splash. He immediately abandoned his stalemate with Saber when he saw that the gunshot came from where he had left [Name].

“My lady!” 

He raced towards her, hoping against hope that she wasn’t shot. His heart had never been filled with such rage as when he saw her bleeding from where he left her with Emiya Kiritsugu standing over her holding a gun. He readied his lance to slay the miscreant who dared to harm his lady.

“Diarmuid!”

Her voice was authoritative and they had been together long enough to know that she wanted him to stand down. He tore his gaze from where he was glaring at Kiritsugu to look at her. He barely registered the shocked gasps of Saber behind him.

Her right hand on her chest was stained with blood while she used her left hand to gesture for him to come to her side. He approached her while keeping Kiritsugu in his line of sight. As he got closer, Kiritsugu backed away to give them some privacy.

He dropped down on his knees next to her as she smiled at him. Her face was paler than he had ever seen and that only makes the blood on her lips stand out even more starkly. He held her gently and lowered her carefully to not aggravate her wound so that her head rested on his knees in hopes of making her more comfortable.

***His clothes changed to the daily wear that [Name] had bought for him and he made to tear it apart to make some makeshift bandages.

“Lea…ve it.”

“My lady…”

“Leave. It.” 

“My lady, I can see the blood on your clothes.”

She opened her mouth to answer him but more blood merely dribbled out of the corner of her mouth. Instead, she spoke into his mind.

*‘Is that so? I will find even darker clothes next time then.’

She tilted her head to the scroll resting innocently at her side so he picked it up and read it. His eyes widened with understanding as he read it.

“My lady! You should have let me die.”

 ‘Do I seem like such a heartless person to you, Diarmuid? I would never even think of sacrificing another’s life for mine.’

“I don’t mean to insult you, my lady, but I have already died once.”

‘It doesn’t matter. Kiritsugu had no intentions of allowing me to live either way.’

“But…”

“My servant. By her Command Seal, [Name] [Middle Name] [Last Name] orders you, Lancer, to not take revenge upon…” she coughed, causing blood to bubble out of her mouth. “Emiya Kiritsugu or anyone else that you hold responsible for her death.”

“My lady!”

“By my Command Seal, I order you to return to the spirit world upon my death. And by my Command Seal, I order you to not form a pact with another master for the duration of the 4th Holy Grail War.”

More blood spilt from mouth and her face was bone white.

“My lady! How can you possibly expect me to do such things?”

‘You will do it, either because I commanded you or as a deathbed promise to me. And no more of that my lady nonsense, I have used up all three Command Seals and therefore am no longer your master. Call me [Name] at least once before I go, please?’

“My…[Name].”

A wide, genuine smile spread across her face and suddenly, she looked as if she was full of life despite the blood seeping out of her. Using the last of her strength, she spoke into the minds of Diarmuid and Kiritsugu respectively.

‘Don’t despair. Let’s meet again in another life, Diarmuid.’

‘The ends don’t justify the means, Emiya Kiritsugu.’

Lancer’s heart clenched as she raised her right hand to stroke his face, her eyes memorizing every feature of his face hungrily before her hand fell and her eyes closed for all eternity.

“[Name]…! [Name]…! Please…come back…!”

He rocked back and forth while holding her tightly to him, his lithe body wracked with sobs. He brushed her hair from her face and the memory of brilliant smile she had gifted him with when he called her by name only made him sob harder. If he knew how happy it would have made her, he would have called her by name more often, propriety be damned. If only he had disobeyed her and stayed with her, she would still be alive.

How could life be this cruel? She was a powerful magus with a bright future ahead of her and suddenly, it was gone. She was no more than another life lost during the Holy Grail War. 

How desperately he wanted to take revenge for her death and yet her words bound her. He couldn’t bear to disappoint her, even in death.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

*

“My lady, why are all your clothes black?” Diarmuid was curious, never had he seen a woman who wore nothing but black.

“Black is my favourite colour. Besides, doesn’t it look good on me?” she asked as she gave a little twirl.

Black did look good on her. It emphasised the paleness of her skin and made her eyes look bigger. Her lips, painted black as well stood out starkly against her pale skin. It also made her look slender and intimidating despite her diminutive height.

“Finally, you can’t really see blood on me if I’m wearing black, right?”

“My lady!”

“Kidding… Don’t be so uptight, Diarmuid,” said [Name] while giggling.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

**

“Diarmuid.”

“Yes, my lady?”

“Stop calling me ‘my lady’. I have already said it many times but we are a team and therefore equals. Call me [Name].”

“I’m afraid that I can’t do so, my lady. It would be highly improper to call you by your name.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*

***

“Diarmuid, do you have nothing else to wear?”

“I’m afraid that this is my only outfit, my lady.”

“Well, you certainly can’t go out like that. Let’s go shopping.”

“My lady, there’s …there’s no need to trouble yourself!”

“It’s no trouble at all. Besides, I have been wanting to explore the shops here anyways. How about this? You be my bag carrier for the day and I buy you an outfit as a thank you present?”

“Al…Alright, my lady.”

(Time skip)

“So, so? What do you think?”

“You have good taste, my lady.”

“Of course.”

Lancer couldn’t help but admire his outfit that consist of a dark green shirt, black pants and black shoes paired with a black vest in the mirror. 

“As a bonus, we match too,” said [Name] as she gave a twirl in her black dress with dark green embellishments.

[f0rever15elf]

Not Like Them

Pairing: Marcus Pike x GN!Reader Rating: PG Word Count: 2,524 Warnings: Mentions of Domestic Abuse/Violence, addressing past traumas with DV, food mention, no beta, no y/n

Summary: After an exhausting week at work, Marcus comes home to you with news of a trip to visit his parents. When your unexpected reaction catches him off-guard, he snaps at you, brining up your past traumas. But Marcus isn’t the same as your past traumas, and makes you a promise to keep you safe. 

A/N: This comes as a request from a lovely anon! And I just want to say that lovely, I’m sorry you’ve had to struggle with something like this before in the past. I hope this fic brings you a little bit of comfort and know that my inbox is open if you ever need to talk. 

Masterlist |  Ao3 | Ko-fi

It had been a leap of faith, saying yes to the excitable and extraordinarily kind FBI agent. A leap that you weren’t sure you would ever be able to take, given what your life growing up had been. But there was something in the softness of his rich brown eyes, something in the way they crinkled in the corners when he smiled, or the way he laughed with his whole being. Something in the way that he said your name and when he was focused on you, he was singularly focused on you, that just assuaged the worries that ate at the back of your mind.

So, the day he asked you out to pancakes for dinner when you passed him in the hall of your apartment, you said yes. And the day he asked to make it official, you said yes. When he asked you to move in with him, you said yes. Yes, yes, yes.

...No.

Those two little letters are what started this entire debacle. Thinking it over, you aren’t even really sure why you said no to his request. It had been innocuous enough, him wanting to bring you home to Texas with him to meet his parents in person for the first time. You’ve talked with them plenty over the phone and facetime, so you aren’t sure why going to see them settled something so anxiety inducing in your gut. But it did, and so you told Marcus no, a knee-jerk reaction.

It had been a long week for the gentle FBI agent. Long nights spent on stake outs when he would much rather be home with you paired with the seemingly endless mountains of paperwork that kept ending up on his desk has him in a downright awful mood with the only thing keeping his spirits up being you, and getting to finally introduce you to his parents. In person. The three most important people in his life all together at last. 

He had greeted you as he always does when he made it home, slipping out of his shoes and suit jacket before coming to find you, gifting you with a kiss as he took you in his arms. You looked amazing, as you always do, and it only made his heart swell even more. He had wanted to surprise you with news about the trip over dinner, but he just couldn’t seem to help himself, blurting out how he already had tickets booked. But your reaction could not have caught him more by surprise.

Two little letters left him feeling like you had just sucker punched him in the gut, forcing the air out of his lungs as you carefully extracted yourself from his arms.

“What do you mean ‘no’?” he snaps, far more harshly than the situation called for as confusion and hurt and exhaustion all muddle his thoughts, and you take a step back from him, bringing your arms up to hold yourself as he stands seething with his hands on his hips.

“I-I mean that I-I don’t want to… to go. I don’t want to, Marcus.” Your voice is small and squeaky as you stare at him with wide eyes, terrified of what he might do next. Images flash through your mind of your life growing up. The yelling and the harsh words, the crashing and smashing of things through the house, the nights spent hiding in your closet with your hands over your ears in a desperate attempt to block out the sounds of a relationship left to rot on the vine. And though the rational part of your brain tells you that Marcus would never do something like that, seeing the man you have come to love standing furious in front of you sends fear sliding down your spine like ice water.

“Do you not realize how important this is to me?!” He yells, tossing his hands in the air in exasperation as his eyes narrow at you and you whimper, shrinking away from him as you move to put the island between yourself and Marcus.

The sound hits him like a freight train. It’s a small sound, one barely there, but it’s full of fear. Fear of him.

Oh. Oh, God.

The color drains from Marcus’ face and he slowly lowers his hands, eyes going wide. He holds out his hands in a placating manner, lowering his voice as he quells his vehement reaction in an attempt to calm you down. “Baby… baby, I’m so sorry.”

Your bottom lip trembles and you shake your head slightly, refusing to move back towards him. That was how it had started when you were younger. Loud, accusatory arguments followed by placative apologies. Those always got worse and worse and worse until your grandmother was coming to get you out of the house, trying to hide your line of sight to your parents. But… but Marcus would never put his hands on you… right?

As if to answer your question, he drops his hands and takes a few steps back away from you, making sure to stay clear of the hallway. He’s… he’s giving you a way out, you realize. He’s left a wide enough berth between himself and the hallway, that he wouldn’t be able to reach you if you decided to dart past him and lock yourself somewhere out of his reach. And… and oh my God he looks so deflated. Those lustrous brown eyes look so dull and sad. His strong, broad shoulders are slumped and he seems to be curling in on himself, trying to make himself look smaller, less threatening.

Your eyes dart between the hallway and the man you love as you try to reason with your fight or flight response, your heart still hammering in your chest as adrenaline courses through your veins.

“I… I’m going to shower,” you whisper, side-stepping out of the kitchen, keeping your front directed at Marcus until you’re at the hall, at which point you sprint to the bedroom, grabbing some clothes before ducking into the bathroom. The click of the lock causes your shoulders to relax, and the damn of emotions breaks within you. Tears begin streaming down your cheeks as you turn on the water to cover the sobs that wrack your chest as you climb into the tub, sitting under the stream until the water runs cold.

Marcus’ aches to reach out for you as you dart past him, but he knows better. Hell, he knew better than to yell at you like that, especially in a place where you would feel so cornered, like the kitchen with no way out. He groans, swiping a hand over his face as guilt and regret settle heavy in his stomach. You’d been forthcoming with him, explaining to him your hesitancy at the beginning of your relationship and he had promised you he would do his best to make sure you never had to relive such a situation again. And yet, here he is, bringing your past back to haunt you. He knows his reaction was due to the awful week he’s had, but that was still no excuse to yell at you. And he knows to force you to be okay with him again is something he can’t do. He’ll need to let you come back to him on your own terms. But that doesn’t mean he can’t make a peace offering… right?

His eyes scan over the kitchen, hands resting on his hips. Tonight’s a good night for that carbonara you like, he decides, rolling up his sleeves as he heads into the kitchen to begin cooking.

By the time the water runs cold, your tears have dried and your sobs have ceased. The adrenaline has worked its way through your system, leaving you tired but much more clear headed to digest what has just happened. The facts are the best place to start, you decide. You know Marcus had had a rough week, talking to you about it whenever he got the chance, and he was exhausted because of it. You know that he’s been excited to get you to see his parents in person, he’s been talking about it for months. You know your curt answer caught him by surprise, and he had zero time to prepare for it. You know he had gotten angry and yelled at you. But you also know that he had made no move to hurt you, and that this is the only time he’s ever done anything like this. He hadn’t raised his hand to strike you, he hadn’t reached for anything to throw or break. You also know that he had deliberately given you your space when he saw how scared you looked.

No…. Marcus Pike would never hurt you, you rationalize. Marcus Pike is a good man and the love of your life. But Marcus Pike is also human, with human emotions and human reactions, especially when exhausted and caught off guard. Just like you.

With a bolstering breath, you turn off the shower, stepping out to towel off and change before cautiously poking your head out of the bathroom. You’re met with the muted sound of jazz lilting from the living room paired with the smells of garlic and bacon, and your stomach growls loudly at the tantalizingly familiar scent.

Cautiously still, you make your way quietly down the hall, peaking around the corner to see Marcus over the stove, sleeves rolled up to his elbows as he hums quietly along to the music in the den.

“Marcus?” you ask softly from your observing position in the hallway. He glances back over his shoulder, giving you that beautiful, gentle smile that is so perfectly him.

“Hey beautiful. I figured that tonight would be a good night for my carbonara. I know it makes you feel better.” You take a tentative step from the hallway towards the kitchen, wrapping your arms around your front as you do. “It’s… to say sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.” He pulls the noodles from the boiling water, adding them to the pan with the chicken and bacon before pouring in the egg and cheese mixture for the sauce, stirring vigorously.

You continue towards him, stopping at the dining table to watch him as he finishes, putting the pasta into a large serving bowl before grabbing a couple of plates and utensils, bringing everything over to the table. But he doesn’t approach you. Instead, after setting everything down, he just stands behind his chair and gives you that gentle smile of his that makes your heart pound in your chest. No. No, Marcus Pike would never hurt you. Of this, you are resolutely sure.

Slowly, you step around the chair, towards him, stopping just before him. His hands itch to reach out for you, but he lets you move on your own terms, terrified of scaring you more than he already has. It takes you a moment, but eventually, you look up at him.

“You scared me, Marcus.” His shoulders deflate at that, and he nods, defeated. He knows he did, but hearing it from your lips made it hurt ten times over. “You scared me, but… but I know you aren’t like the family that I came from.” You reach out to take his hand and he squeezes it gently in reply. “But if you keep doing that… then I can’t stay here. I can’t stay with you. I’ve been through it once, and I’m not doing it again.”

Marcus shakes his head frantically before reaching out to take your other hand. “Baby, look at me, please.” You do as he asks, the bright light of determination in his eyes very nearly taking your breath away. “I’m sorry. Baby, I am so, so sorry. I brought the burden of work home with me when I shouldn’t have, and I took my frustration out on you, which I shouldn’t have. I didn’t mean to scare you. God, making you uncomfortable in your own home, or with me in any capacity, is so far from the list of things that I want to do, that I can’t even begin to describe it.” His voice takes on a bit of a warble, thick with emotion, and it only further reinforces what you already know to be true about the man in front of you.

“I’m going to be better, I promise. Work frustrations will stay at work. I’ll be open about when I’m not doing well, and we can handle it accordingly, because baby,” he slowly reaches his hand up, knuckles brushing your cheek, and he lets out a breath when you don’t flinch away from him. “Baby I want you to feel safe here. Safe with me. Safe, and loved, and treasured, and adored. I don’t want to be the reason you feel any kind of fear of discomfort. I don’t want you to walk on eggshells around me, or hold your words back because you aren’t sure how I’d react to them. I want this house to be a home.” He cups your cheek gently, thumb brushing along your cheekbone, and you lean into his touch.

“I have… a lot that still weighs on me, Marcus…. It’s hard to unlearn those formative years. It’s all I’d ever known until I met you….”

Marcus’ eyes search yours as he nods subtly. “I know, and I want to show you what a relationship is supposed to be. I can’t promise I won’t have bad days. I can’t promise that I won’t get angry from time to time. I can’t promise that we’ll never have arguments or disagreements. But what I can promise, is that my anger will never be directed at you. Ever. I can promise that I will never raise my hand against you. I can promise to make this place as loving and safe and comfortable for you as I possibly can. And I can promise to love you with everything that I have in me for as long as you’ll have me.”

By this point, tears have welled up and overflowed in Marcus’ eyes, and you feel your own eyes misting, overwhelmed with emotion. No, Marcus Pike is nothing like your past. Marcus Pike loves you, and is determined to show you what it means to be loved. Marcus Pike is determined to take care of you, no matter what.

You don’t offer him a verbal reply. Instead, you let his hand go before throwing yourself against him, wrapping your arms around his midsection as you bury your face against his chest. He lets out a little oof of surprise before carefully wrapping his arms around you, nuzzling into your hair, and you let yourself be surrounded by everything that is purely him.

“I love you so damn much,” he murmurs into your hair, and you know he means it. You know these words aren’t meant to placate you. You know that when Marcus Pike says he loves you, that he means it with every fiber of his being. You know that here, you are safe. Here, you are loved. 

~~~~~~

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[giorno-plays-piano]

Blood in the water Part 2

Pairing: merman!Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, kidnapping, non-consensual drug use, brief mention of breeding, minor depiction of violence.

Words: 3496.

Part 1

___________________

He started singing again, and you turned on Slipknot to the full volume, carefully slipping on your noise-canceling headphones you ordered not so long ago. They were really a blessing, but even with them and all the noise surrounding you Steve’s voice still rang inside your head. 

He had a beautiful voice, the one people would call heavenly, but his intentions were far from angelic: the first night you heard Steve singing to you, you had almost went to the beach where he was waiting his prey, charmed by his divine voice. Forgetting about the danger, you floated like a cloud to him, only half-awake and clearly unaware of your actions. The only thing that saved you that night was a sharp rock you stepped on, cutting your foot, blood coloring the cold ground as you broke free from Steve’s charms. When you ran home, covering your ears and singing loudly to yourself to silence his voice, the merman let out an unnatural, frightening growl behind your back.

Then Steve started doing it every night, serenading you by moonlight. It could be romantic if only the merman didn’t try drowning you in the sea, determined to make you “his mate”. Worse, with each passing day the mark he left on your neck was becoming more and more painful and itchy, and sometimes you were waking up with deep scratches left by your own nails. 

The villagers couldn’t do much about it, despite being deeply ashamed of their inability to tell you about the merfolk - you realized they had been under some curse as every time they tried talking to you about Steve they were simply losing their voices. Of course, it all made sense now. 

They helped you taking care of the wound, but from all the words they couldn’t say you understood you wouldn’t get rid of the mark easily. Thankfully, it stopped bleeding, but the nasty scar left by Steve’s sharp teeth had still been there. Well, you could live with it, you supposed, if only you leave this forsaken place.

When you got on the first bus, you had fainted in the middle of the trip for no damn reason. You looked so bad with you eyes rolling back into your skull, your body shaking uncontrollably, the driver decided not to risk it and returned to the town immediately, leaving you in a hospital again. Strangely, you woke up with no pain whatsoever, fresh as a daisy. It was the curse the merman gifted you - you couldn’t be too far from him now, dragged back by the mark on your neck, and your only chance to stay alive was either staying with him or taking him with you. 

Maybe you could get rid of the curse if you killed him, you weren’t sure. As far as you knew from locals, they didn’t manage to kill even one in the last several decades. You didn’t know whether you could, too. Even if you would get a chance to stab Steve, you hardly imagined murdering him. You just weren’t the type.

So, he kept singing in his attempt to draw you to the beach again, and you kept hiding in that little cottage you rented. Oh yes, you were also worried about the rent since the month you paid for was coming to an end, but locals just smiled at you sadly, shaking their heads. This was how merfolk was attracting new people to the town.

“But my friends and family will be searching for me.” You mumbled, covering your face with your hands. “I have a job, a life out there.”

“I’m sorry, sunny, but no one will be searching for you,” the doctor said, giving you a salve for your mark - it was easing the itchiness. “You don’t know the merfolk. They'd stop at nothing to keep their mates close.”

“But why, for God’s sake?” You growled helplessly, unable to face the man and staring at your shoes instead.

“Reproduction, sunny. Mermaids aren’t as fertile anymore, and they are facing extinction.” He shrugged.

“And how is it supposed to work? Human with a merman?”

The doctor patted your shoulder apologetically, shaking his head. ‘I can’t tell you, dear. I... I physically can’t.”

You knew what he was talking about and couldn’t be angry at him. These people couldn’t do much, forced to protect their loved ones and living in constant fear of being abducted by the vile creatures living deep in the sea. Most of the time merfolk didn’t come to the town openly, and that’s why those women were so upset you lived far away, completely defenseless. But they couldn’t open up to you, revealing merfolk’s secret, and now Steve kept you on the hook.

Groaning when the sunlight crept in through the curtains, you rubbed your eyes and slowly got up, taking the headphones away and touching your ears. God, it hurt so much, but it was the only way for you to sleep at least for a few hours while Steve kept singing outside.

Oddly, you couldn’t hear the sound of the music as if someone turned it off, and you immediately went to your laptop to check. Shit, you forgot to plug it in. Thank goodness Steve stopped singing before your laptop turned off.

Sighing, you went to the bathroom, opening the tap and splashing some water into your face to wake up. It was barely six, but the sun was shining brightly, giving you no chance to go to sleep - you had always been up with the sun regardless of your circumstances. Now it was one more of your curses, considering you barely slept. 

Watching your reflection in the mirror, you chuckled sarcastically, touching your bottom eyelid - you looked like you just came back from the dead. Would Steve be willing to let you go once he realized you’re no more the sweet beautiful lady he met? What a fucking bastard.

Feeling nauseated, you rubbed your face and went to the kitchen, reheating yesterday’s coffee. You had no strength to make yourself breakfast, even the simplest one. 

Next minute you were wrapping the blanket around yourself and heading out of the house with a mug in your hand, eager to watch the sunrise. You weren’t afraid of Steve since you had never even once spotted him on the beach in the daylight. Besides, you kept a little knife in a pocket of your pants in case you needed to cut yourself and become free from his charms.

You still questioned yourself what were going to do next. Even if your parents and friends would forget you because of the curse affecting them somehow, you still remembered them. You wanted your life back. You wanted to sleep at night, unafraid of being snatched away by someone hiding in the dark. You wanted to wake up, knowing you are safe, and go to work, have one more simple day, then returning back home. You didn’t ask for much.

Well, you would have to figure out how to live in this small town all by yourself, find a new source of income and pretend like no scary mythical creature lingered behind your back. Maybe you would have to ask doctor to make you deaf. It should help with the singing.

Suddenly, you saw a huge figure rising from behind a rock not very far from you. You froze on the spot, looking at Steve walking carefully on the beach. Despite wearing something reminding you of a torn human sweater, he was naked below the waistline, and you blinked, looking at his soft cock dangling in between his legs.

Legs. Steve had a pair of strong, muscled human legs. 

For a second you forgot how to breathe, watching him coming closer to you, his movements a bit unsteady and slow. You became rooted to the ground where you stood, unable to turn away and run from the monster too human to your liking. Was it his magic again? Was it you who couldn’t keep running anymore?

Biting your lips painfully, you felt tears gathering in the corners of your eyes. Steve was wearing your sweater, albeit badly stretched out and torn in a few places - he was so much bigger than you it was a miracle he had somehow managed to put it on. You suddenly remembered how you were searching for this sweater a week or two ago, thinking you had forgot it somewhere in the cottage. How and where did Steve find it? Was he always able to walk? If so, why didn’t he take you away?

Well, maybe that’s what he was going to do now.

Finally finding some strength, you turned back to your cottage, eager to get away as far as possible from him, but then heard Steve’s angry, raspy voice, “Stay where you are!”

And you stood, moving back to face him and unable to do anything at all but watch. 

Steve looked as tired as you are: you saw the bags under his eyes, his full lips cracked, his expression exhausted as if your resistance was straining him. Wasn’t he supposed to be an invincible immortal being wandering the sea? He looked so much more human now you weren’t even sure anymore.

“You want my throat to bleed, don’t you?” He grunted in a hoarse voice, wincing when he spoke, and you realized he lost his voice after signing night after night to you. “I am doing my best for you, and you just turn on that horrible, distasteful music every night!”

You smirked - how dare was he to call Slipknot’s best songs “distasteful music”?

“This shouldn’t happen this way. You’re ruining it.” Steve continued to grumble as he kept coming closer and closer, and, oddly, you found out you weren’t as scared of him anymore as you were in that faithful night. 

“Ruining what?” You asked, sipping your still warm coffee when he approached you, wet and angry.

“The courtship!” The man exclaimed, breathing heavily - it seemed walking on his human legs was talking a toll on him. “You had to come to me, you stubborn woman! And what are you making me do? Come to you instead?”

He coughed, squeezing his eyes shut and touching his neck. It had to be really painful for him to talk.

Despite how wicked he was and how badly you wanted him to have a taste of his own medicine, you almost felt pity for your merman, handing him your mug when he stopped close to you.

“What is this? Coffee?”

“With milk. Good for your throat.” You replied, acknowledging he knew of human drinks.

Gazing at you skeptically, Steve sniffed your mug and then took it in his arms, glancing at the liquid inside. “It’s hot.”

“It’s warm. You won’t burn your tongue.” You said, taking the blanket off your shoulder and wrapping it around his hips - seriously, you felt too awkward to stand near a man dressed in just a little stretched-out sweater.

“You and you fear of nudity, humans.” Steve grunted, but sipped the coffee, nonetheless, quickly getting used to it and finishing your mug. “Oh, this one isn’t bad. I tried espresso, but it was so bitter I couldn’t have the whole cup.”

You chuckled, wrapping your arms around your own body and looking at the merman. What was he going to do now? He didn’t look vile, probably not as angry and upset as before, but who knew what he had in mind.

“So what? Are we going to stay here in the cold or you will bring me to your house?” Steve asked snappish while you snorted at him. 

“Really? I thought your plan was to drown me in the sea, not bask in the warmth of my bed.”

He grinned, pressing your mug to his impressive chest.

“Why would I drown you, silly woman? Come on, it’s cold out here in the morning. I want to stay at your place.”

He took your hand in his, and you finally moved from your spot as if Steve allowed you. Making sure the blanket was wrapped tightly around him, you went to your house, thinking of the knife in a pocket of your pants. If he was planning to attack you, you could definitely stab him through your thin sweater or cut his throat. It would require some skill, though.

Entering the little hallway, Steve looked at the ceiling and winced from the mirror hanging on the wall, looking at his reflection. Shaking his head disapprovingly, he reached out to touch his swollen bottom eyelid. 

“I thought merfolk aren’t afraid of cold.” You said, entering the kitchen and emptying the coffee pot.

“Not in this pathetic human body.” Steve entered after you, rubbing his arm in your completely wet sweater.

“Then you have to take this off and-”

“What? NO!”

He jumped away from you and stayed in the corner like a kid hiding something from his mother. You rolled your eyes.

“Although this is MY sweater, I’m not going to take it from you. I just want to dry it, alright?” You ensured, coming closer. “You’re not going to get warm if you keep it on.”

“This is my sweater.” Steve grumbled, but took it off, regardless, and handed a miserable, partly discolored piece of fabric to you to let you hang it close to the heater, watching you intently - did he really think you’d ran away with your sweater?

When you turned to face him, your blanket wasn’t secured on his hips anymore, and you stared at his naked member again, your face growing terribly hot from the sight. What was that merman thinking? Was he flaunting his.. physique in front of you? You knew of some animals doing that to attract their mates.

“For goodness sake, cover yourself.” You huffed, taking a pack of milk from the fridge. “You don’t want this thing to freeze in the open, do you?”

“Wait, it can freeze if I don’t cover it?” His eyes shot open. “You mean I won’t be able to have children anymore?”

“Yes, this is exactly what I mean.” Oh damn, it was terribly hard not to laugh as you watched Steve looking at you in horror and hurriedly wrapping the blanket around himself as much as he could. It was hilarious. 

Putting two cups of milk into the microwave, you hit the button and pulled out some butter from the fridge to put into the cup once milk would be ready. You certainly didn’t need this hissing little mermaid who lost his voice because he sang too many serenades to you.

“So, what about the courtship?” You asked, stirring melted butter in Steve’s cup as he waited for you, sitting on a chair near the table. “How do you even imagine making babies with me?”

“You don’t know?” He looked at you innocently. “Oh, don’t worry, I’m a pro at that. I’m sure you will enjoy the process.”

“For God’s sake, Steve.” You groaned, placing a cup in front of him and taking yours. “Don’t play stupid here. I can’t live underwater. I can’t even fucking swim!”

“I’m not asking you to.” He shrugged and took his milk, ensuring it wasn’t burning hot before making a sip. “Though you won’t die underwater now. Believe it or not, you can actually breathe there because of my mark.”

You touched the scar, rubbing it with your fingers furiously and narrowing your eyes at the merman who, apparently, seemed very happy to see his mark on your skin. Once he reminded you of this thing, you were ready to snap at him.

“Do you even know how much this thing hurt?” You asked, furrowing your brows.

“This is because you refused to come to me,” he cocked his head to the side, watching you growing angry. “I only need to kiss it to make you feel better. Don’t look at me like that! It’s true, let me show you.”

You stepped backwards immediately as he advanced upon you, caging you with his large body, pressing you to the kitchen counter, his skin cold. Pushing your hands against Steve, you tried to keep him away, but he was so much stronger than you that you almost ended up with your face buried in his chest.

“What the-”

He quickly lowered his head down and sniffed you, bringing his face to your neck. The next moment Steve was touching your scar with his lips, and you whimpered involuntarily, expecting it to hurt like hell. But it didn’t. He simply brushed his dry, chapped lips against your mark, and you felt nothing especially painful. 

You were growing tired of all this magical things you didn’t understand.

“See? There’s nothing scary.” He smiled brightly, and you saw he had human teeth now, too. 

“Yeah, yeah, now please go sit over there,” you grunted, but he didn’t move, laughing at you and ruffling your hair with his large hand. “What are you doing? Go away!”

“Don’t be so cold. You are going to share your life with me, silly woman, so don’t fuss over such little thing.”

You decided it was time for more effective measures and reached out to your pocket to grab the knife, but Steve grabbed your arm before you could do it, sending you a serious look.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. I’m not here to hurt you, I promise.”

“Really? I have some doubts.” You slapped his hand away, but didn’t try to take the knife again. “Because you have just ruined my life with that bite. How the hell this is going to work, anyway? How do you expect me to live with you? You’re a damn mermaid!”

“I’m a merman,” he said, looking resentful, and returned to his seat, sipping his hot milk with butter - apparently, it was working, and his voice sounded less raspy now. 

You exhaled loudly, enjoying the distance and rubbing your mark that wasn’t as itchy as before, but you scratched it, anyway.

“Listen, I’m not saying I’m totally harmless, but I’m not dangerous for you.” He said as he finished his cup. “You can remain living here, on the ground, I won’t pull you into the water... often.”

“Do you understand I can’t just go and be intimate with you, someone I see for the second time in my life?”

“I’d be surprised if you did. Look, I’m not asking for it either. The courtship doesn’t last for a month. You’ll get used to me, I know.”

His dazzling smile was making you feel nauseated, and you grabbed you cup, having a bit of warm milk, too. Steve was being impossible, but you were thankful he wasn’t forcing himself on you now. Maybe there was a chance to trick him into removing this hex, and you would have to figure it out.

“If you want to know whether we can have children together, I can tell you we definitely can. It doesn’t really matter whether I take my true or human form while making love to you, so it’s up to you how you wanna do it.” Steve grinned, and you clenched your teeth, unable to believe he was talking about it so openly, caring little for your consent. There was something barbaric in this charmingly handsome half-naked man sitting in your kitchen.

Suddenly, you felt like the nausea got much stronger, and merman’s smile wasn’t at fault. What was happening? The world was spinning, and you let go of your almost emptied cup, slipping to the floor. Shit, shit, shit. It wasn’t good.

Oh God. It was him, wasn't it? He had done something to you. He smiled and talked and laughed to make you relax, think of your situation like a simple comedy when, in fact, you were still in grave danger. Were you so stupid to believe him or was it his charms again? You hoped for the latter, curshing yourself for being too carefree and letting him into your house.

“Sorry, sweetheart, it seems I put too much medicine in your milk.” He clicked his tongue as you looked at him in horror, barely able to move now. “I thought we had more time to talk. But, well, we can always do it later.”

Steve was near you the next second, carefully lifting you up in the air in his hands, watching you with a bit of concern on his face.

He proceeded to walk in the direction of the door, but before he snatched your torn sweater and put it on his shoulder, carrying you outside of the cottage that had become your little fortress over these few weeks. However, it could keep the monster off your back, and now all you could do was watching the green door becoming further and further from you with each Steve’s step to the shore.

Your body was completely frozen when his feet reached the water, and the merman left a kiss on your cheek, stroking it tenderly despite that wicked smile on his face.

“I told you, you can’t break the tradition. It is time for you to come to me now."

THE END

___________________

Tags: @finleyjayne​ @alexakeyloveloki​   @helenaeisenhower​ @villanellevi​ @hurricanerin​ @void-hoechlin​ @abyssaint​ @heeeyitskay​ @chris-evans-indian-fanfic​ @navegandoaciegas​ @rosalynshields​ @brattycherubwrites​ @sllooney​ @angrythingstarlight​ @lovelydarkdaydream​ @soleil-dor​ @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @sourpatchspinster​

[wiypt-writes]

Riding High

Ch7: Ordinary People

Chapter Summary: Frank faces the aftermath of his dumbass choice whilst Mary heads to Boston for a few days. When the court case starts, emotions are running high and Frank finally confesses his feelings to Fliss.

Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words. Flashback at the start involving domestic violence.

Chapter Pairings:  Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

A/N: Contains SPOILERS for the film!!!!! If you haven’t seen it please be aware of that before you read on. As a Lawyer I know how long the types of cases depicted in GIFTED can take, however they can also be done pretty fast. With that in mind, and because it fits with how I want the story to go I’m spreading it over approximately 6 weeks or so, so just roll with me!

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Riding High Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 6

"I saw you...he had his hands all over you."

"John, I didn't want him too...he was drunk, just being over friendly..."

Fliss cowered as a sneer crossed her husband's face, the features she found so handsome once upon a time were distorted in anger, his dark green eyes clouded with rage as he towered over where she sat on the crouch. In a flash he had reached out and grabbed a fist full of her hair, yanking her to her feet. Fliss gave a cry of pain, stumbling after him as he dragged her up the stairs. She tripped at one point, her hip colliding painfully with one of the steps but he paid it no attention.

No mercy.

"You're mine, Sugar.” He said, his voice steely. “You know that."

"I know," she sobbed as he threw her into the bedroom where she scrambled for purchase on the bed as he pushed her so hard she fell face down. Before Fliss could raise herself, John had grabbed the back of her neck and pushed her face harshly into the pillows.

"Why do you make me do this, Felicity?" He asked, releasing his hold as his thighs bracketed hers. Fliss heard the tell-tale clinking of his belt and she gave another sob, knowing full well what was coming. He roughly pushed her dress up over her hips, leaving her underwear clad ass exposed.

And then the leather stuck her. Again. And again. And again.

"I'll mark you so hard no one else will ever want you," he snarled as he continued his assault ignoring her screams of pain and pleas for him to leave her alone. “You’re mine..." Fliss sat bolt upright, gasping as she glanced around her bedroom. She was shaking violently, the dream had been so real, so vivid, she could almost physically feel the pain. John had belted her so badly that night she hadn't been able to ride for a week, and she still bore the marks where the buckle had ripped through her skin.

The worst thing was, that after he had finished, he had held her, stroking her hair, soothing her, explaining why he had to punish her so much. It was sick, twisted. Just like him. "He’s gone, he was to blame. I’m strong, not weak, I’m strong, not weak." she repeated her mantra through gritted teeth. Thor, hearing her breathing deeply and her trembling voice, jumped up onto her bed and shoved his head under her arm as she hugged her kneed tightly. Looking down at her faithful dog, she buried her face into his fur, holding him tight as she ran through her calming thoughts in her head. The sound of the ocean, the wind in her hair as she galloped on the beach, the soft and gentle hugs she received from her dad, her mum...and dare she even think it, Frank. And then another image filled her head. The sight of him kissing Bonnie at the bar.

“Wanker.” She muttered, wiping the tears from her face as Thor licked her cheek, his tail wagging as she stroked him. With a few more deep intakes of air, her breathing evened out and she gave Thor a final squeeze before she pushed the duvet down and swung her legs out of the bed and headed to the bathroom.

***** Frank had also woken up to a nightmare. His head was pounding from the shots he’d downed at the bar and being jerked awake by Bonnie’s screams as Mary had turned up in the apartment earlier than she was allowed on a Saturday hadn’t exactly helped the situation. He had fucked Mary’s school teacher for no reason other than the fact he was drunk, stressed and needed a release.

Well played, Adler, you fucking moron.

Thankfully, Bonnie seemed to be in the same place as him about the entire situation, hastily telling him that it should never have happened, something he profoundly agreed with, as he saw her out to a cab, apologising for Mary’s interruption, literally incapable of thinking of anything else to say. It was the most awkward morning after he had ever experienced in his life.

And there was something else compounding his growing bad mood. When he had finally checked his phone as he stood outside for a few moments after Bonnie had gone, hoping the fresh air would sort his head out, he realised he had a number of messages and missed calls from Fliss. Groaning he remembered that he should have called her after the court case but had completely forgotten. Firing her a quick apology, along with a promise to talk to her later when it was time for Mary’s lesson, before he headed back inside.

Mary was sat on the rug with her lego, pieces scattered all over, Ice Age playing on the TV.

“Awkward…” she sing songed

“Mary.” Frank looked at her for a moment and when she didn’t look at him he crouched down “Stop! Stop! Stop with the Legos. Listen.” he took a breath and she looked at him “Do we have a rule about Saturday morning?”

“What?” she asked softly

“Are you allowed in this apartment this early on Saturday morning?” Frank pressed, looking at her.

“No.” Mary sighed, averting her eyes from his.

“No!” Frank nodded, his voice a little louder before he paused again “Are you allowed to... hey!” he reached out to stop Mary as she returned to her Toys. “Stop! Enough with the Lego. Are you allowed to use Roberta's keys?”

“No.” she still wasn’t looking at him.

“No! So, hey! Look at me. Then why are you here? Huh? Can you answer me that?”

Mary’s eyes filled with tears but Frank was too angry at the fact she had disobeyed him to comfort her.

“You broke every rule! You just embarrassed me. We have these rules.” He angrily stood up, turning to head back out of the door into the kitchen “We've gone over them a hundred times!” And then, when he stepped on a piece of Lego in his bare feet, his frustration boiled over as he hopped on one leg, clutching the side of the dresser which was pushed flush against the wall.

“Shit…God, damned it…” He yelled as he slapped the side of the dresser, leaning against it, bending down to rub his foot. “Can I just get five minutes of my own life?”

At that Mary jumped up and bolted into his bedroom, shutting the door behind her.

Frank stood up, before he sighed, one hand on his hip, his eyes closed. He’d overreacted, he knew that. He was more pissed at himself for being an idiot than he was at Mary. He ran his hand over his face and glanced at the clock. Mary’s riding lesson was at two and it was now just pushing ten-thirty. Deciding to leave Mary to cool down before he made breakfast, he headed into the kitchen to clear up yesterday’s dishes.

He heard the door to his room click open about twenty minutes later. Giving her another ten he wiped the counter down before he made his way back into the main room and sat on the edge of her bed, where she was snuggled down in her alcove which sported a collection of shells they had stuck to the wood panels and a few photos, one of her mom, one of her and Frank and one of her and Fliss with Monty. She was huddled in the corner, Fred laying on her knee, the laptop resting on his back as she tapped away.

“Nothing that happened today was your fault.” Frank spoke gently and looked at her “I got mad at you...I was really mad at me,” he looked at her and she continued to ignore him, “and the manufacturers of Legos. They should all be in prison. So I'm sorry.” he said gently. She paused tapping but still didn’t look at him. “Do you forgive me?”

“Sure. Whatever.” she mumbled.

“Hey, close the laptop. Come on. Please.” He watched her as she avoided looking at him. “Doesn't count if it's not eye to eye.”

She hesitated so he asked again, gently. “Come on, please.”

With a sigh she did was she was told and looked at him. Her eyes, so like Diane’s, were full of sadness and Frank felt his gut twist in guilt.

“Do you really have no life because of me?” she whispered, her eyes shining with tears and Frank cursed himself for his outburst before.

He shook his head. “That's not what I said.” he looked at her.

“Did you mean it?” she pressed, not buying his statement for one minute, her voice soft.

“Last week you said I was the worst Uncle in the world, and you wished death upon me ‘cause I didn't buy you a piano.” Frank held her gaze. “Did you mean that?”

“No” Mary replied, her fingers tangling in Fred’s fur “Not entirely.”

“Well,” Frank said, not bothering to ask which bit she had actually meant. “There you go. We say things all the time we don't mean. So let's forget it, okay?”

“Okay” Mary agreed

“Okay.” Frank nodded, standing up

“Frank?” she called as he headed towards the door to head down and check the mail. He stopped and turned back, even though he couldn’t see her.

“Yeah?”

“Can I have a piano?”

“No.” he deadpanned, turning for the door.

He strode down across the lawn to the mail boxes, unlocked his and pulled out two letters. One looked like a bill, the other was in a manila coloured envelope, and was stamped with some kind of official seal.

“Was that really Mary's teacher this morning?” Roberta appeared. He glanced at her and returned to his post “And there was me thinking Fliss would stop you doing anything stupid.”

Frank’s head shot up “Fliss?” he frowned “What are you talking about?”

“She came here last night, to see you. Mary roped her into Karaoke before she left and said she was going to come and find you at Fergs”

Frank frowned. “Well she didn’t. I never saw her last night so she-”

Oh,fuck fuck fuck!

He trailed off with a groan as he realised that she had probably seen him with Bonnie and then felt a stinging slap round the back of his head.

“Shit!” He exclaimed, glaring at Roberta “Jesus, that fucking hurt!”

“Good.” she stared at him. “You know I have a book called ‘Fundamentals of Decision Making’. You can borrow it.”

He glared at her, he didn’t need this. Not now. His attention turned back to the letter and he noticed the seal was from the court house. With a frown he opened it. The header- ‘Highsmith, Kistler & Sellers Attorneys at Law’ -greeted him and he started to read. It was an order for him to surrender Mary for two days into Evelyn’s care, at a time and date to be agreed. It wasn’t unexpected but it was pretty fast considering it had only been agreed yesterday. His mother really wasn’t wasting any time.

“What is it?”  Roberta asked, noticing the frown on his face

“Its nothing.” he said, leaning on the post box, still reading the letter. “Looks like Mary gets to go to Boston for a couple days.” He noticed Roberta stiffen and he looked at her. “It's just two days. Relax.” he said gently.

Because he was always honest with Mary, he sat down once he was back inside and told her about the letter. She knew there was a court case going on, he had explained it all to her as best as he could so as not to cause her any worry. She soaked up the information and shrugged before saying that going to Boston sounded kinda cool. Frank simply nodded and said that he would sort out the dates on Monday. They ate a late breakfast-slash-early lunch and once Mary was changed and ready, they headed up to the riding school.

As Frank drove there his stomach was doing flips, the nerves at seeing Fliss were overwhelming, more so because he had no idea what he was going to say to her. It was strange, he felt guilty about the fact he’d slept with Bonnie, even though he had no real reason to. It wasn’t like he and Fliss were an item.

Fliss greeted Mary with the usual warmth before she turned her gaze to Frank, and he could see the hurt in her eyes, compounding that guilty feeling even more.

“Sorry I didn’t call you last night.” he offered and she shrugged.

“It’s okay, I know you were busy.” her voice carried no sarcasm, it was measured and cool but Frank knew she was referring to Bonnie, his suspicions confirmed. She turned away, barking an instruction to Joanne who looked at her, nodding.

Frank leaned on the paddock fence as he always did, a little way from the other parents and watched as Fliss taught the three girls, that gorgeous smile on her face. Mary was certainly getting the hang of it now and was able to trot around unaided. After about forty minutes they were done and heading out of the paddock. Fliss made no attempt to come and speak to him, like normal, and made straight for her office. Casting an eye on Mary who was leading Monty back to the stable he followed Fliss.

“I take it you’re mad at me.” he spoke tentatively.

“Why would I be mad at you?” she asked, pulling three cartons of apple juice out of the fridge for the kids.

“Because you saw me last night with Bonnie.” he pressed.

He saw her stiffen slightly before she took a breath and turned round.

“I’m not mad.” she shrugged.

“Could have fooled me.”

“I just, well I think you could have considered Mary a little more, that’s all.” “What does that mean?” he frowned.

“You know damned well what it means.” she looked at him “Mary told me before when we were tacking the ponies up that she saw Bonnie this morning, wrapped in one of your sheets. I mean, Jesus Frank that’s her teacher. Can you imagine how awkward its gonna be if any of the kids find out that you’re fucking her?” “Ok, I’m not fucking her.” Frank held his hand out to stop her.

“So what were you doing last night then?” Fliss hissed, “Playing scrabble?”

“Hang on, are we really arguing about this?” Frank looked at her, frowning. “Why? Why do you even care?”

He paused, looking at her. Her eyes locked onto his and she swallowed, and for a moment he hoped she was going to tell him what he wanted to hear but she shook her head and shrugged.

“You know what, you’re right. What, or who you do in your spare time is your business, not mine.”

With that she pushed past him and headed out into the yard. Frank let out another sigh before he headed out to collect Mary.

******

Fliss made no attempts to speak to Frank over the next few days. He messaged her to tell her about Mary heading to Boston at the end of the week and she replied politely, telling him that she was sure it would all work out, but beyond that she didn’t reach out further. However, she did call to wish Mary a safe trip to on the Thursday morning just before Evelyn arrived to pick her up, and told her she wanted to hear all about it when she came home on Saturday afternoon. By the time Frank got the phone back, Fliss had hung up.

“Frank she likes you. “ Roberta said when she popped over to wish Mary goodbye. Mary wasted no time in informing her that the reason Frank was in a bad mood wasn’t just because she was going to Boston, but also because Fliss was angry at him. Of course she had noticed, because she noticed everything. “She’s hurt and it’s yo’ own dumbass fault.”

Yeah, yeah he got that.

With Mary gone, he decided that night to take a cool box of beer down to the harbour and work late. He was in the middle of pulling a gear box apart when his phone went. It was a message from Bonnie asking if she could meet him to talk. Which was how he found himself sat on the deck of the boat, her opposite him, both wrapped in blankets and clutching bottles of Bud.

“I have had a series of nightmares, where I'm fired because of what happened. You get it?” Bonnie shook her head, rolling her eyes. Frank smiled at her as she laughed “And then I remind myself, that everything that happened, was just all the alcohol and people do far worse right?”

At that Frank laughed. “Yeah we were pretty drunk.”

Truth be told whilst he did think Bonnie was attractive, there was nothing there, and that was compounded by the fact that as he sat, looking at her, he felt no urges at all. She was simply another one of his Friday night hook ups, only this had turned out to be slightly more complicated.

Yeah, he should definitely borrow that book from Roberta

“So I guess, what I came here to say,” Bonnie sighed, “I think you’re a great guy Frank, and I’ve got your back on this damned custody case but, me and you…it just…” “Oh, absolutely, I’m with you.” Frank hastily agreed, thanking the Gods she’d brought it up before he had to. “It was a mistake.” Bonnie arched an eyebrow and he groaned. “Shit, I don’t mean that how it sounds but, well, it was, wasn’t it?”

She smiled and nodded, cocking her head to one side as she surveyed him. “I do think you need to speak to Fliss though.”

“Fliss?” Frank frowned, “What’s she got to do with this?”

You like her." Bonnie said simply.

Frank paused before he shook his head, smiling. “Is it that obvious?" "Well, if it wasn’t evident from the way you talk about her, the fact you called me by her name twice last night is most definitely a giveaway." Oh Jesus. Ground please open... "I called you by her name? When we- " he grimaced and she chuckled, raising her eyebrows "Oh God. Bonnie, I'm so sorry." He groaned and ran his hands over his face.

“Like we said, mistake.” Bonnie smiled, “Especially when you’re clearly hung up on another girl. “ "Yeah well, I think I've kinda blown it. Story of my life." Frank sighed taking a pull from his bottle.

“Blown it?”

“Yeah she's pretty pissed. She saw us in the bar and has hardly spoken a word to me since”

"And you’re giving up that easily?" Bonnie raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t even know if she likes me in that way so…” He shrugged and Bonnie leaned forward slightly.

“If she’s that pissed at you over the fact that you hooked up with someone else then she absolutely feels something for you Frank." Bonnie smiled softly. “And it would be a shame to let something as stupid as a one night stand screw it all up for you.”

Frank looked at her for another moment or two before he finished his beer and offered Bonnie another one which she accepted and then asked him about the court case. Frank filled Bonnie in on the running order for the testimonies which would start on Tuesday before she bid him goodnight and left. He contemplated messaging Fliss once she was gone but decided against it. He would give her a few days to calm down, and give himself some time to figure out what the fuck he was going to say.

***** It was Saturday afternoon when Frank reached out.

Fliss was busy on a lesson when her phone went. Taking a quick minute to look at it, she read the message from Frank asking if it was ok if they swung by as Mary was home. With a deep breath she replied telling him it was fine, before she turned back to her client who was one of the boarders on the yard.

She had just about finished some thirty minutes or so later when she heard Mary calling her name. She turned and gave her a smile and a wave. Once she had finished with her client and taken payment, she turned to Mary and gave the girl a hug.

“Hey!” she beamed as Mary hugged her tight. “I missed you!”

“I missed you too!” Mary beamed “And so has Frank.”

“That so?” Fliss stood up straight and looked at him. He took a deep breath and shrugged, but the little smile on his face told Fliss that Mary had completely and utterly busted him. She rolled her eyes and then gave him a little smile of her own. “Coffee?”

“Yeah, sounds great.” He nodded, gratefully taking the olive branch she had offered.

They made their way into the office and Fliss moved to the small kitchenette area at the back, filling the coffee machine before she turned to Mary, leaning against the counter.

“So, tell me all about Boston.” Mary began to gush about all the things she had done, Fliss listening and asking questions as she made her and Frank a coffee. He took his with a thanks whilst Mary told Fliss how she had looked at some photos, learned more about her mom and then done some complicated Maths for a professor at a University. At that Fliss noticed Frank stiffen slightly and she looked at him, gently shaking her head. He smiled tightly and turned to look out over the yard, taking a few steps outside.

“And she has a piano.” Mary finished, “I mean I didn’t get to play it but…”

“You should come over to my mum’s.” Fliss smiled “She’ll let you play hers. That’s what she used to do, teach people music.”

Mary smiled, before she looked over at Frank who was stood watching a few people riding in the paddock, the lessons for the day having concluded which meant the boarders were free to do what they wanted.

“Are you still mad at Frank?” Mary looked at Fliss.

“Not really.” Fliss shook her head “I got a little bit cross but…” “Yeah, he can make me cross too.” Mary said wisely “He does dumb stuff sometimes.”

Fliss laughed and studied the young girl. “Yeah, you got that right.” “But he’s a good person.” Mary concluded.

“I know.” Fliss agreed, her eyes flicking to him before she looked back at Mary.

“I don’t want to live with Evelyn.” Mary shrugged “I mean she was nice and looks like my mom but…she’s bossy.” Fliss smiled.

“I want to stay with Frank.” Mary continued. “Because I know he loves me. And he did before he found out I was smart.”

Fliss felt a lump in her throat at the girl’s confession. She glanced over at Frank again who ran a hand over his face, rubbing at his eyes underneath his shades.

“Hey, Mary, why don’t you go say hi to Monty.” she said gently. “Tell Joanne I said you could help with the feeds.” “Yesss.” Mary cheered, scooting off her chair and shooting across the yard. Fliss saw Frank follow her with her eyes before he turned to her as she walked over to him.

“How you holding up?” she asked him gently.

“Apart from screwing up my life, I’m good.” Frank snorted, taking off his glasses and tucking them into the collar of his t-shirt. “Just hope I’m not screwing hers up as well.”

“Don’t’ say that.” Fliss shook her head “You know that’s not true. Mary’s fine.”

There was a pause before Frank took a deep breath and looked at Fliss. “I hate that we haven’t been talking. It’s been kinda lonely.”

“I thought you and Bonnie might have, ” she trailed off, shrugging, “gone out or something, I don’t know.”

Frank sighed “I’ve only seen her once since. And that was so we could have a straight up conversation about how what happened was a mistake”

“A mistake?” Fliss raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah.” Frank nodded. “And as far as mistakes go, that one was pretty spectacular.”

“And you actually said that to her?”

He nodded.

“Wow.” Fliss snorted.

“She agreed so we’re both going to try and forget it ever happened.” Frank shrugged and he Fliss’ gaze for a second before he took a deep breath “Is that why you’ve been ignoring me?” he pressed “Because you thought me and Bonnie, were, like together?”

Fliss swallowed and looked away, trying to think of something to say that didn’t give her feelings away. He’d hit the nail on the head. She had thought that, and more over she was jealous so had distanced herself on purpose.

“I just,” she looked back at him, “well, I suppose I didn’t want to step on any toes, so to speak, that’s all.”

“There’s none to step on, trust me.” Frank looked at her. “I don’t feel that way. Not towards Bonnie.”

Fliss looked at him, feeling her cheeks growing warm before she turned away and quickly changed the subject. “So err, anyway, she seems to have enjoyed Boston.”

Frank let out a large breath at the fact that Fliss had effectively withdrawn back from what he had felt had been the edge of a breakthrough there for the pair of them but, well, he had no right to be annoyed, especially after everything he’d done. “Yeah.” He nodded with a little smile.

“So what’s next?” she asked.

“Well she has a court interview with the Child Welfare department or whatever they’re called on Monday.”

“Sure it’ll be fine.” Fliss replied “It’s not like she’s treated badly or her welfare is an issue, Frank.”

“And the hearing starts in full on Tuesday.” He explained “They’re opening with a bang.” At his words Fliss frowned as he turned to face her. “Mary’s biological father has apparently signed an affidavit, nominating my mother as Mary’s legal guardian.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Fliss hissed, suddenly seething with anger as Frank shook his head “That’s a real shitty trick.”

“Yep” Frank agreed.

“Does Mary know?”

“No. I’ll have to tell her though, otherwise Evelyn will no doubt.”

“Your mother gets access to her again?”

“Whilst this is going on she gets visitation rights so…” Frank shrugged, and Fliss couldn’t help but notice his despondent nature.

“So when you gonna tell her?”

“Tuesday night, after it’s done. I don’t want her worrying or knowing he’s in town because if she knows and he doesn’t ask to see her, well at least once he’s gone then…” he bit his lip. “She’s gonna be upset either way but, what else can I do?”

“Nothing, just what you think is best.”  Fliss said gently “I told you before that’s all you can do Frank.” He looked at her and she sighed, opening her arms and he gladly stepped towards her, wrapping her up in a hug.

******

Tuesday rolled around far too quickly for Frank’s liking. The interviews on Monday went fairly smoothly, he had a little bit of a questioning over his TV choices for Mary but other than that he’d left that session feeling pretty okay about it.

And then he’d walked into court, seen his mother and the snivelling little shit that was now being questioned by his Mother’s Lawyer.

“Mr. Polland, are you the natural father of Mary Adler?”

“Yes. Yes, I am.”

Frank sat still, glaring at the ass hole sat in the dock.

“And how you can be certain of this?

“Well, I always knew, but then you had me take a DNA test.”

Course they did…

I would offer the test results as result of evidence of that Mr. Polland is the father and natural guardian of the minor. As well as an affidavit from Mr. Polland nominating Mrs. Adler the maternal grandmother as the legal guardian of the minor.”

Frank sat up slightly, his jaw clenching. This ass hole had no right to decide what was best for Mary, he’d never fucking met her. Greg touched his arm, shaking his head, telling him to keep quiet.

“No objections.” Greg spoke.

“Mr. Polland has Mrs. Adler offered you any monetary reward or employment for coming forward today?” Evelyn’s attorney continued.

No, sir. I have a job of my own.”

Frank suppressed a snort. Bullshit she hasn’t paid you.

“Thank you. No further questions, your Honour.”

Greg then stood up and waited a second before he opened his cross examination “Mr. Polland when was the last time you saw Mary?”

“I've never seen her.” Polland shifted slightly and Frank watched him intently.

“Why not?”

“By the time I heard about Diane…passing the baby was gone already.”

Her name is Mary, ass hole. Frank took a deep breath.

“Well, did you try and find her?” Greg pressed.

“Best I could. I couldn't just go and search the entire country.” Polland shook his head, trying to make a joke out of it. Frank was pleased to see the judge wasn’t laughing.

Greg nodded and paused again, before suddenly asking “Do you use a computer at work?”

“Sure.” Polland replied

“You know what? Help me out.” Cullen turned and grabbed his laptop “Let's google ‘Mary Adler’ and see what we find.” he placed the laptop on the dock and turned it towards Polland. He hesitated for a while and looked at the Judge who gestured with his hand, instructing him to do as he was told. Polland began to tap when Greg spoke again “You know what? You better add her middle name.”

Frank watched as Polland stopped, because of course he had no idea what her midde name was.

“It'll narrow it down. Eileen” Cullen informed him. Polland looked up and caught Frank’s eye, his face sheepish. Frank kept his face straight, his chin resting on his hand, fingers making an L-shape round his jaw as Polland looked away and began to tap.

“Yeah, Hit enter.” Greg nodded. “Okay, now head to page two…second hit. Would you please tell the court what you see there?”

Polland hesitated “It's a newspaper article called ‘Not so terrible twos’”

“And one of them is Mary Eileen Adler.”  Greg nodded “Same name as your daughter. Born on the same day as your daughter. With a photograph”

Polland looked at him.

“In your defence, you'd never recognize it…”

“Your Honour, this is...” Evelyn’s attorney stood up but Cullen was quick to cut him off

“Your Honour, if there's one thing here that's sadly obvious it's that Mr. Polland has never been a genuine guardian of the minor and his nomination of Mrs. Adler is no less disingenuous.” he looked at the Judge.

Frank shifted slightly as Judge Nicholls looked at Polland, then to Evelyn, then to him before he turned glanced at the notes in front of him.

“While the state of Florida gives deference to nomination by natural parent, I'm inclined to side with Mr. Cullen's laptop at this time.” he said, nodding at Cullen, effectively dismissing the affidavit. Frank allowed himself a relieved smile as Cullen nodded.

“Thank you, your Honor”

Once court was adjourned for the day, Frank obligingly walked his mother to her car when she asked him to. And as they walked, she told him about his step father Walter. Frank had found it odd how he wasn’t featuring in any of this, but his silent question was answered as Evelyn told him he moved out and bought a ranch in Montana.

“Bullshit.” Frank exclaimed as they walked in the sun, his suit jacket handing over his arm.

“Exactly. A man whose idea of roughing it is being too far from the ice machine at the Ritz Carlton now owns a thousand acres of grass and dung.”

“Walter Price is a cowboy.” Frank smiled, shaking his head, making a mental not to tell Fliss later. “Walter Price puts on a Brooke's brother suit to take out the garbage!”

“Well, now he has a cowboy hat and cowboy boots and a horse that doesn't know dressage.” Evelyn shook her head.

“Is there some logical reason for this?” Frank asked.

“Midlife crisis, apparently.”

“He's seventy.” Frank scoffed

“I know. Must have been on time delay or something. I guess I should be happy it wasn't a twent-five year old cocktail waitress. But then again an affair you can explain to friends in a minute. For this, you put on a pot of coffee.”

“And he's out there right now?”

“Yessiree!” Evelyn imitated a Western accent. “Riding the range!”

Frank lost himself for a moment as he and his mother joked, mocking exactly what his Step Father would look like. He hated to admit it, but at times like this he was reminded how similar he was to his mother. Same dry sense of humour, no nonsense nature…

“The fastest asset management in the West.” he snorted and Evelyn smiled.

“The man who shot Liberty Mutual. That's what I've been calling him” she said as they stopped at her car.

“That's really, really funny.” Frank chuckled, and then sighed as his mother opened the car door. He leaned down and spoke to the driver. “Take her to the airport.” he said, straightening up. “Go home, Evelyn. Or Montana. Rustle some cattle.” he said gently.

“You know I have no desire to hurt you. I hate it that we're at odds.”

And then, he was also reminded just how different they were too.

“We're always at odds.” he shrugged.

“Yes.” She said, almost sadly before she climbed in the car. “Hotel.” she instructed her driver, closing the door.

**** As anticipated, when he broke the news to Mary about her father, she had a meltdown and locked herself in the bathroom. No amount of coaxing from him or Roberta would draw her out. She was sobbing about how her dad didn’t want her…and then Frank was struck with an idea and he pulled out his phone to call in reinforcement which arrived in the shape of Fliss some twenty minutes later.

“I still can’t believe that wank stain was even given the time of day.” Fliss seethed as Frank greeted her outside. “I mean…”

“It’s done, his claim was thrown out but...”Frank nodded to where Roberta was stood outside locked bathroom door.

“Why you had to tell her that waste of oxygen was testifying I’ve no idea.” the woman shot him a look.

“Because it's the truth. And if I didn't, Evelyn would've.” Frank reasoned.

“If I was the dad of a little girl and I never saw her and I was in the same town. I would visit her.” Fliss heard Mary’s crying and Frank saw her face scrunch up in sympathy. “He didn't even need directions. He could've followed you here.”

“Ok, Roberta, can you…” Fliss asked gently. Roberta stood to the side and Fliss spoked to the door. “Mary, sweetheart, it’s me.”

“Lissy?” Mary sniffled.

“The one and only.” Fliss smiled, before she sighed “You know what, you’re right. He could have come to see you. But he didn’t. And that sucks, but it has nothing to do with you.”

“He doesn't even wanna see what I look like.” The girl sobbed again.

“You know I never met my dad either.” Fliss said gently “He abandoned my mum before I was born, made no attempt to see me at all, and then he was killed when I was 4 months old. He died without ever seeing my face. And you know what?”

“What?” Mary sniffed.

“That was his loss.” Fliss continued. “And then my mom met Bill when I was two, and he’s been my dad ever since. He looked after me and loved me, just like Frank does for you.” Fliss glanced at him and he dropped his hand from where it had been cupping his chin, folding his arms round his chest as he shot her a small smile. “Like we all do Mary, you’re so loved. By Frank, Roberta, me…” Fliss continued, “Now come on, open the door.”

There was a pause and they heard a rustle, before the lock on the door clicked and it opened. Mary stood in the doorway, her eyes red and wet from tears before she gave another sob and threw herself at Fliss. Fliss crouched down on one knee and held her back, gently rocking her and Frank felt his chest tighten at the display of affection.

And then he had an idea.

He crouched next to them, his hand gently reaching out to brush Mary’s hair back as she turned her head which was on Fliss’ shoulder to look at him.

“Put your shoes on. We're going for a ride.” he said to her softly. Then he turned to Fliss “You too, that is if you want to.”

“Sure.” she nodded.

“Roberta?” Frank looked at her, and she shook her head.

“Your truck only got three seats.” “We can take mine.” Fliss offered as Mary gently released her.

“No, I think you two got this.” she said, with a knowing smile.

*******

“What are we doing here?” Mary asked as they sat on the seats in the waiting room and Fliss found herself wondering the same thing. She hadn’t questioned Frank, he obviously had something up his sleeve.

“Waiting.”

“We can see that.” Fliss replied playfully, and he looked at her, rolling his eyes as Mary continued.

“Why?”

“Because I said so.” he shrugged, returning to the National Geographic magazine he was flicking through.

“How long do we have to stay here?”

“As long as it takes. And keep your voice down. It's a hospital.”

As long as it takes turned out to be an hour and a half. Through which time Mary had groaned, moaned, used Frank’s legs as a climbing frame, which Fliss noticed he had expertly ignored simply slouching in his seat, legs apart as Mary draped herself over them. Eventually she had curled up next to Fliss and laid her head on her lap, dozing off.

Fliss was busy reading something on her emails when she heard a bit of a commotion and the group at the other side of the waiting room all stood up. Frank’s eyes flew to them and then he gently gave Fliss a smile before he nudged Mary awake.

She blinked and watched as a man walked into the waiting room dressed in scrubs, a huge smile on his face.

“It's a boy.” he announced and the group erupted into cheers. Fliss glanced down at Mary who was watching in awe as everyone started to congratulate the man, all crying, sobbing with happiness, cheering, praising the lord.

“That's exactly how it was when you were born.” Frank spoke softly and Fliss then understood. He was showing Mary that she was loved, that she was wanted.

“This happy?” Mary asked

“This happy.” Frank confirmed.

“Who came out and told everybody?” she asked, and Frank leaned over gently brushing her hair behind her ear.

“I did.”

The emotion of the moment got to Fliss and her eyes watered. Frank raised his head and they shared a look as he smiled and she smiled back before Mary piped up.

“Can we stay for another?”

So they did, and when the next family all celebrated Mary jumped up, heading over to the group. They all smiled at her as she was swept into their celebrations. Fliss reached over and gently took Frank’s hand, giving his fingers a squeeze, a gesture he returned until Mary came back and pulled Fliss over to the group with her. Frank leaned back and watched as Fliss simply smiled and wiped her eyes as she congratulated the family and he let out a sigh, swallowing slightly, lost in his thoughts.

Eventually the family all dispersed to go and see their new arrival and he told Mary that it was too late to stay for another. She fell asleep on the way home against Fliss and when they got home it was a careful manoeuvre to get her out of the car without waking her up. He gently placed her in bed before he walked Fliss down to her car.

“Thank you.” he broke the silence.  “You were amazing before. You’re just amazing full stop.” he said, trailing off.

She blushed slightly and tucked her hair behind her ears.

“I mean it Lissy…” he sighed, “You just…”

He hesitated for a second before he reached out and gently placed his hand on her hip, pulling her softly towards him

“Frank.” she protested softly as his face dropped towards hers, her hands gently on his chest keeping him away from her “Look, I, ”

“I’m sorry.” he swallowed, his head dropping as he sighed at her rejection “You don’t have to explain.”

“It’s not even three weeks ago you were in bed with another woman.” she looked at him and he grimaced, pulling away.

“I know and I really wish that hadn’t happened” he sighed, the hand that had been on her hip moved and ran through his hair “My head was fucked and…”

“How do I know it isn’t now?”  Fliss looked at him “How do I, or you for that matter, know that this…” she gestured between them with her hand “…isn’t just an emotional response to what’s going on as well?”

“Because it’s not.” he shook his head, his eyes not leaving hers as he drove his message home “I care about you Fliss, more than just as friends, and I’m kicking myself now because what I did means you don’t believe me.”

“It’s not that I don’t believe you.” she took deep breath, as she looked down at her hands, the fingers of her right hand fiddling with her left. “And it’s not that I don’t feel the same.” She looked up at him, her voice quiet.

At her words a soft smile formed on his face as she continued to talk.

“But right now, you need to concentrate on Mary, and getting through this week.”

He nodded, swallowing “Yeah, I know, you’re right.”

She smiled, and reached up, taking his face in her soft hands. “But I promise you I’m not going anywhere.” her eyes locked onto his “And whatever this is,” she gestured between them once more, “if it’s right, then it’ll still be there when this is all over.”

She stood on her tip toes to place a gentle kiss to side of his mouth and he leaned down, pressing  his forehead against hers, his eyes closed as he swallowed. They stayed like that for a moment until Fliss backed away gently, squeezing his hand.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” he frowned

“Yeah, the Wicked Witch of The West is testifying is she not?”

Frank gave a huff of a laugh “Yeah she is.” “Like I said, you’re not alone. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He watched her climb in her car and waited until the tail lights had disappeared before he turned and headed inside. Finally all the cards were on the table, and it hadn’t been a rejection, quite the opposite actually.

For the first time in days, Frank slept soundly that night.

**** Chapter 8

[lovehotelreservation]

Confection Confession

Summary: Another year, another White Day full of the Grandcypher’s most eligible bachelors gifting you chocolate as means to show their appreciation for you, their Captain.

And while Rackam did work hard to make sure his present was impeccable to the taste, he hopes that you enjoy the unique little add-on he prepared for you.

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Reader/Rackam

I STILL NEED TO KNOW WHY LUCIO SCREAMS “RACKAMUUU” WITH SUCH RAW INTENSITY IF HE FALLS IN BATTLE HFLAKFHAKL

BUT WITH THIS PIECE, SO CAPS OFF THIS ROUND OF COMMISSIONS!!! Thanks so much to @thosegloriouspancakes FOR SUCH A PURE AND TENDER COMM PROMPT!!! ; v ;

PLS ENJOY!!!! 

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

There were some things that Rackam could and could not do.

Fix the Grandcypher while blindfolded and being hoisted up and down by the Lowain Bros?

He could do that.

Beat Eugen, Soriz, and Jin in a drinking contest?

He could do that, albeit at the expense to his liver.

Tame a raging Bahamut while Lyria takes a nap from the power of an Aoidos lullaby?

Hell, he would rather do that if it meant he didn’t have to deal with this nerve-wracking sensation that was currently gripping him by the neck!

Before him upon the Grandcypher’s deck was a mountain of confectionaries, from the finest sweets handcrafted by chocolatier gods to homemade cookies where taste surpassed lumpy but heartfelt presentation, all gifted from the likes of royal princes, faithful knights, battle-hardened warriors and whimsical, all sharing the common trait of being White Day gifts denoted to one single person.

But even closer to him was the receiver of these presents.

The Grandcypher’s dearest captain.

The hero across all the skies.

The person who was currently handling his heart like the handmade chocolates they were delicately bringing up to their lips.

Who else but you?

It was strange as it was bothersome that he stared right into the eyes of fearsome primal beasts and the like for battles that determined the fate of the skies, but just gazing upon the curious expression on your face while you sampled his White Day present to you--the last you received from the rest of the crew--was playing with his nerves like a damn fiddle.

Though, considering why he was gifting these sweets to you today, the butterflies fluttering around his stomach as though guided by the gusts of Tiamat herself were only to be expected.

Thankfully, the wide smile that slid onto your lips quickly absolved the burden weighing on his heart.

“They taste really good, Rackam! I’m impressed!”

Tension began to leave his shoulders.

Relief.

Grinning from ear to ear, he chuckled,  “They’d better! You know I wouldn’t perfect these for just anyone!”

He watched as your tongue swiped along your thumb as you indulged in the taste of his handmade sweets further. The sight of that, along with the realization of the implication of his words had his eyes widen, a stutter beginning to seize his words. “I mean, well--! By that, I’m trying to say, uh…”

And then he watched curiosity flicker onto your face just before the smile on your lips turn sly.

“Did you have something you want to tell me?”

A hot blush found its way to his whiskered face.

He knew what that smile meant.

You knew without him having to say much.

As expected of his treasured captain.

His hand found its way to the back of his neck as he huffed, “Oi! Since when’d you get so mischievous, huh?” Still, unable to hide the overjoyed smile that crept onto his lips, he continued, “How did I miss our sweet, courageous captain turning into such a teaser?”

“Is this mutiny that I’m sensing, Rackam?” You giggled, setting down his gift box aside before taking a step closer towards him, closing the distance between you both.

You were offering him an opportunity.

And he would be a fool to refuse.

“Tch, you could push me right off the deck and I’d still come clawing back up to you, you know this more than any one.” He let out a snort, but his arms found its way around your waist while his eyes sought out yours. “And that’s why I gotta get this off my chest, right here, right now.”

You leaned closer into his embrace and he knew there was no further reason to feel nervous, but to feel emboldened instead.

“Captain,” Rackam began, just before his voice took on a tender tone as he uttered out your name, “You really changed the way I see the sky the moment you brought me along for the journey of a lifetime. I’m thankful for it--thankful for you.”

He brought a gloved hand up to your cheek, cupping your face gently. “More than anything, through whatever weird crap that threatens our beautiful blue sky, through all the damn good merry times we have here on the Grandcypher, I wanna stay by your side--”  

While his voice remained sweet in inflection, his words were firm in resolve. ”--all the way to Andalusia and way beyond that. You know I already have your back, but just know you’ve got my heart too, all right?”

“Rackam…”

The look on your face--so elated and thrilled.

These were the words you’ve wanted to hear for so long that you couldn’t even begin to express your own joy. Still, with just as much earnestness, your hand rested upon his as you declared, “I want you to have my heart too.”

“Jeez, you really know how to make a man happy...!”

You barely caught sight of Rackam’s elated grin as his lips suddenly met yours for a kiss.

And then another and another.

You were smiling against his mouth with each kiss, giggling when he finally drew back fully, “Good, because I could see how nervous you were getting while you were waiting to see my reaction to your chocolates.”

His lips puckered into a pout as you laughed. “Oi, oi, when you’ve got literal princes and demi-gods handing you the finest chocolate made outta the silver lining of clouds, what’s a man supposed to do? I’ve got tough competition!”

“First mutiny, and now jealousy, Rackam? It’s really cute,” you taunted gleefully.

“‘Cute’, huh?”

There was a slight but sudden shift in his voice, all while the arm he had around your waist tightened its grip.

He kissed you again--loving but not quite as tender as the ones before.

You were breathless by the time he pulled away, shivering as you heard him murmur into your ear, 

“Well, let’s see how cute you’ll find me when it’s just us in your quarters, yeah?”

[marlborodean]

spn quotes: season three

i’m collecting a bunch of quotes from the show! my favorite lines, good points of characterization, etc. all organized by episode and character, and with timestamps!

w/ncest shippers get lost

season one. two.

1. THE MAGNIFICENT SEVEN

Dean—

[Bobby: So we're eating bacon cheeseburgers for breakfast, are we?] Well, sold my soul, got a year to live. I ain't sweating the cholesterol. (07:04)

[Tamara: I'm heading back to that bar.] I'll go with her. [Sam: It's suicide, Dean!] So what? I'm dead already! (21:27)

[Envy: You really think you're better than me. Which one of you can cast the first stone? Huh? What about you, Dean? You're practically a walking billboard of gluttony and lust.] (24:46)

[Sam: Think she's gonna be alright?] No. Definitely not. (34:18)

[Sam: What, you got some kind of death wish or something?] It's not like that. [Then what's it like, Dean?] Sam— [Please. Tell me.] We trap the crossroads demon, trick it, try to welch our way out of the deal in any way, you die. Okay? You die. Those are the terms, there's no way out of it. If you try to find a way, so help me God, I'm gonna stop you. [How could you make that deal, Dean?] 'Cause I couldn't live with you dead. Couldn't do it. [So what, now I live and you die?] That's the general idea, yeah. [Yeah, well, you're a hypocrite, Dean. How did you feel when Dad sold his soul for you? 'Cause I was there. I remember. You were twisted and broken. And now you go and do the same thing. To me. What you did was selfish.] Yeah, you're right. It was selfish. But I'm okay with that. [I'm not.] Tough. After everything I've done for this family, I think I'm entitled. Truth is, I'm tired, Sam. I don't know, it's like there's a light at the end of the tunnel. [It's hellfire, Dean!] Whatever. You're alive, I feel good for the first time in a long time. I got a year to live, Sam, I'd like to make the most of it. So what do you say we kill some evil sons of bitches and we raise a little hell. Huh? (37:12)

Sam—

Look. If we're going down, we're going down together, alright? (27:09)

[Pride: And you...are Sam Winchester. That's right, I've heard of ya. We've all heard of ya. The prodigy, the boy king. Looking at you now, I gotta tell ya.... Don't believe the hype. You think I'm gonna bow to a cut-rate, piss-poor human like you? I have my pride, after all. And now with your yellow-eyed friend dead, I guess I don't really have to do a damn thing now, do I? You're fair game now, boy, and it's open season.] (31:51)

You know what? I've had it. I've been bending over backwards trying to be nice to you, and...I don't care anymore. [Dean: That didn't last long.] Yeah, well, you know what? I've been busting my ass trying to keep you alive, Dean, and you act like you couldn't care less. What, you got some kind of death wish or something? (36:56)

[Dean: I couldn't live with you dead. Couldn't do it.] So what, now I live and you die? [That's the general idea, yeah.] Yeah, well, you're a hypocrite, Dean. How did you feel when Dad sold his soul for you? 'Cause I was there. I remember. You were twisted and broken. And now you go and do the same thing. To me. What you did was selfish. (37:44)

Misc—

Greed: We're not sins, man. We are natural, human instinct. And you can repress and deny us all you want, but the truth is, you are just animals. Horny, greedy, hungry, violent animals. And you know what? You'll be slaughtered like animals, too. (25:32)

2. THE KIDS ARE ALRIGHT

Dean—

[Lisa: You can relax.] Good. [I swear you look disappointed.] Yeah, I don't know. It's weird, you know, your life. I mean, this house and kid. It's not my life, never will be. Some stuff happened to me recently, uh.... Anyway, a guy in my situation—you start to think, you know, "I'm gonna be gone one day, and what am I leaving behind besides a car?" [I don't know. Ben may not be your kid, but he wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for you. That's a lot, if you ask me.] You know, just for the record, you got a great kid. I would've been proud to be his dad. (26:18)

Sam—

[Ruby: All I know is that it's about you.] What? [Don't you get it, Sam? It's all about you. What happened to your mom, what happened to her friends—they're trying to cover up what he did to you. And I want to help you figure it out.] Why would you want to help me? [I have my reasons. Not all demons are the same, Sam. Not all of us want the same thing. Me? I want to help you from time to time. That's all. And if you let me, there's something in it for you.] What could you possibly— [I could help you save your brother.] (40:40)

3. BAD DAY AT BLACK ROCK

Dean—

Just Dad. You know, him and his secrets. We spent all this time with the guy and it's like we barely even know the man. (06:20)

Oh wow! It's my first sawed-off. I made it myself. Sixth grade. (07:59)

That's what killed your friend. My brother here is next. And who knows how many more innocent people after that. Now, if you don't help us stop this thing, then that puts those deaths on your head. Now, I can read people. And I get it. You're a thief and a scumbag. That's fine. But you're not a killer. Are you? (22:46)

So you know the truth about what's really going on out there and this is what you decide to do with it? You become a thief? [Bela: I procure unique items for a select clientele.] Yeah. A thief. (29:46)

So you're only after yourself, huh? It's all about number one? [Bela: Being a hunter is so much more noble? A bunch of obsessed, revenge-driven sociopaths trying to save a world that can't be saved.] Well, aren't you a glass half-full. [We're all going to Hell, Dean. Might as well enjoy the ride.] I actually agree with you there. (31:30)

The hell is wrong with you?! You don't just go around shooting people like that! (36:04)

Sam—

[Dean: She knows what your weakness is. It's me.] (03:32)

[Dean: You're okay, right? I mean, you're feeling okay?] Yes, I'm fine! Why are you always asking me that? (04:04)

No way! That's my division championship soccer trophy. I can't believe he kept this! [Dean: It was probably the closest you ever came to being a boy.] (07:45)

4. SIN CITY

Dean—

[Casey: Lose something?] All you demons have such smart mouths. [It's a gift.] Yeah. Well, let's see if you're smiling when I send your ass back to Hell. [Without your little exorcism book? Hey, go ahead.] Spiritus immunde. Ungo— [Having a little trouble there, sport?] Spiritus immunde, undolara. Pasonitote.... [Nice try, but I think you just ordered a pizza. Guess you should've paid more attention in Latin class.] I don't know what you're smiling about. You're not going anywhere. [And, apparently, neither are you.] Yeah, but I got somebody coming for me, and uh, he did pay attention in class. (20:02)

[Casey: You Winchester boys are famous. Not Lohan famous, but, you know.] Well. That's...flattering. I'll be sure to let Sam know when he gets here. (20:58)

So demons take over. I thought the meek shall inherit the earth. [Casey: Oh, according to your Bible. It's only a book, Dean.] Not everyone would agree. [Because it's God's book? Do you believe in God, Dean? I'd be surprised if you did.] I don't know. I'd like to. (24:59)

[Casey: You're alright, Dean. The others don't describe you that way. But, you know, you're...you're likable.] A demon likes me. Sorry, I don't know how to respond to that. (29:34)

[Casey: That deal you made to save Sam—a lot of others would mock you for it, think it was weak or stupid. I don't.] It's been kind of liberating, actually. I mean, what's the point in worrying about a future when you don't have one, huh? [Still, a year to live. You're not scared?] No. [Not even a little?] Of course not. (29:50)

Sam—

Oh God. Uh. I'm sorry. That's—just—I think this was just a minor misunderstanding? yeah, okay, um. How 'bout I just—I just leave, 'cause—I'll take these—okay, I'll, uh, I'll leave this for, uh...you, uh...have a nice day? (17:20)

[Dean: Yeah, but I got somebody coming for me, and uh, he did pay attention in class.] [Casey: Oh, right, Sam. Everyone says he's the brains of the outfit.] [Everyone?] [Sure! You Winchester boys are famous. Not Lohan famous, but, you know.] (20:46)

Yeah, I like being able to help people. [Father Gil: Ever think about doing anything else?] Like what? [Hm. Anything. You seem like a pretty smart kid. Somehow I see you out in front of the pack. You could do some great things.] I don't know. I like what I'm doing, I guess. [Well, it's your life. Does, um, Dean?] Yeah, Dean. [Does he find trouble often?] Yeah. Yeah, Dean finds his fair share. [Hm. Well, it's a good thing he has you. His brother's keeper.] (30:32)

[Ruby: You're gonna have to do things that go against that gentle nature of yours. There'll be collateral damage, but it has to be done.] Well, I don't have to like it. [No. You wouldn't be Sam if you did.] (39:24)

Misc—

Casey: You don't get it. All you gotta do is nudge humans in the right direction. Some whiskey here, a hooker there, and they'll walk right into hell with big, fat smiles on their faces. Your kind is corrupt, Dean. Weak. Our will's stronger. That's why we'll win. (23:55)

Casey: What, you think humans have an exclusive on a higher power? [Dean: You have a God?] Sure. His name's Lucifer. [You mean the Devil?] Your word, not ours. "Lucifer" actually means "light bringer." Look it up. Once he was the most beautiful of all God's angels. But God demanded that he bow down before man, and when he refused, God banished him. Tell me, Dean. How do you like bowing before lesser creatures? [Lucifer's really real?] Well, no one's actually seen him, but they say that he made us into what we are, and they say that he'll return. [Oh yeah? And, uh, you believe that?] I've got faith. [Hm.] So, you see? Is my kind really all that different than yours? [Well, except that, uh, demons are evil.] And humans are such a lovable bunch. (26:39)

Casey: [Hell] is a pit of despair. Why do you think we want to come here? (28:02)

Casey: Sam was supposed to be the grand poo-bah and lead the big army, but he hasn't exactly stepped up to the plate, has he? [Dean: Thank God for that.] Again with God. You think this is a good thing? Now you've got chaos, a war without a front, hundreds of demons all jockeying for power, all fighting for the crown, most of them gunning for your brother. (32:22)

5. BEDTIME STORIES

Dean—

[Sam: I don't understand, Dean, why not?] Because I said so. [We got the Colt now.] Sam— [We can summon the crossroads demon—] We're not summoning anything. [—pull the gun on her, and force her to let you out of the deal!] We don't even know if that'll work! [Well then, we'll just shoot her! If she dies, the deal goes away!] We don't know if that will work either, Sam! All you're pitching me right now are a bunch of "if's" and "maybe's," and that's not good enough! Because if we screw with this deal, you die! [And if we don't screw with it, you die!] Sam, enough! I'm not gonna have this conversation! [Why, because you said so?] Yes, because I said so! [Well, you're not Dad!] No, but I am the oldest. And I'm doing what's best. You gotta let this go, you understand me? (03:46)

[Sam: Is that what you want me to do, Dean? Just let you go?] (33:26)

Sam—

[Kyle: Those were my brothers. This guy, he killed my brothers. How would you feel?] Can't imagine anything worse. (06:34)

Look, Callie is killing people. She's angry. She's desperate because nobody will listen to her. So you have to listen to her. Please. Listen to your daughter. (29:28)

[Crossroads Demon: Aren't you tired of cleaning up Dean's messes? Of dealing with that broken psyche of his? Aren't you tired of being bossed around like a snot-nosed little brother? You're stronger than Dean. You're better than him.] Watch your mouth. [Admit it—you're here going through the motions, but truth is, you'll be a tiny bit relieved when he's gone.] Shut up. [No more desperate, sloppy, needy Dean. You can finally be free.] I said, shut up. [Huh. Doth protest too much, if you ask me.] (37:15)

6. RED SKY AT MORNING

Dean—

Somebody stole my car?! [Sam: Hey hey hey, calm down.] I am calmed down! Somebody stole my— *nearly has a heart attack* (08:15)

[Bela: He can't be saved in time, and you know it.] Yeah, well, see, we have souls, so we're gonna try. (12:39)

Hey, Bela, how did you get like this, huh? What, did Daddy not give you enough hugs or something? [Bela: I don't know. Your Daddy not give you enough? Don't you dare look down your nose at me. You're no better than I am.] We help people. [Come on. You do this out of vengeance and obsession. You're a stone's throw from being a serial killer.] (12:57)

This is an uncrashable party without Gert's invitation, so— [Sam: We can crash anything, Dean.] Yeah, I know, but this is easier and it's a lot more entertaining. (21:57)

I'm thinking. [Bela: Don't strain yourself. Interesting, how the legend is so much more than the man.] (23:12)

Screw you. [Bela: Very Oscar Wilde.] (24:32)

So ponying up ten grand is easier for you than a simple thank you? You're so damaged. [Bela: Takes one to know one.] (38:08)

Hey, listen, I've been doing some thinking. Um...I want you to know I understand why you did it. I understand why you went after the crossroads demon. You know, situation was reversed, I guess I'd have done the same thing. I mean, I'm not blind. I see what you're going through with this whole deal. Me going away and all that. But you're gonna be okay. [Sam: You think so?] Yeah, you'll keep hunting. You know, you'll live your life. You're stronger than me. You are! You are, you'll get over it. But I want you to know I'm sorry, I'm sorry for...putting you through all this, I am. (38:56)

[Sam: That's the whole problem in the first place. I don't want you to worry about me, Dean. I want you to worry about you. I want you to give a crap that you're dying.] (39:52)

Sam—

[Dean: It was a stupid friggin' risk, you shouldn't have done it.] I shouldn't have done it? You're my brother. No matter what you do, I'm gonna try to save you, and I'm sure as hell not gonna apologize for it, alright? (04:32)

[Dean: Can I shoot her?] Not in public. (09:55)

[Dean: You can't save everybody, Sam.] Yeah, right. S—so, what? You feel better now or what? [No, not really.] Yeah, me neither. [You gotta under—] Just lately I feel like I can't save anybody. (16:24)

[Dean: I can't believe she got another one over on us.] You. [What?] I mean—I mean, she got one over on you, not us. [Thank you, Sam. Very helpful. (31:12)

[Dean: You're gonna be okay.] You think so? [Yeah, you'll keep hunting. You know, you'll live your life. You're stronger than me. You are! You are, you'll get over it. But I want you to know I'm sorry, I'm sorry for...putting you through all this, I am.] You know what, Dean? Go screw yourself. [What?] I don't want an apology from you. And by the way, I'm a big boy now, I can take care of myself. [Oh, well, excuse me.] So would you please quit worrying about me? I mean, that's the whole problem in the first place. I don't want you to worry about me, Dean. I want you to worry about you. I want you to give a crap that you're dying. (39:20)

Misc—

[Sam: What'd you do, Bela?] Bela: You wouldn't understand. No one did. Nevermind. I'll just do what I've always done. I'll deal with it myself. [Dean: You do realize you just sold the only thing that could save your life.] I'm aware. (34:01)

7. FRESH BLOOD

Dean—

[Sam: There you are!] Yeah. Sorry, I stopped for a slice. [Nice move back there, Dean, running right at the weapons.] Well, what can I say? I'm a badass. (14:02)

I want you to stay out of harm's way. I'll take care of it. [Sam: Well, Dean, you're not going by yourself. You're gonna get yourself killed!] Just another day at the office. It's a massively dangerous day at the office. [So what, you're the guy with nothing to lose now, huh? Oh, wait. Let me guess. Because uh.... It's because you're already dead, right?] If the shoe fits. [You know what, man? I'm sick and tired of your old, stupid kamikaze trip.] Whoa, whoa. Kamikaze? I'm more like a ninja. [That's not funny.] It's a little funny. [No, it's not.] What do you want me to do, Sam? Huh? Sit around all day writing sad poems about how I'm gonna die? You know what? I got one. Let's see. What rhymes with "Shut up, Sam"? [Dude. Drop the attitude, Dean. Quit turning everything into a punch line. And you know something else? Stop trying to act like you're not afraid.] I'm not. [You're lying! And you may as well drop it 'cause I can see right through you.] You got no idea what you're talking about. [Yeah, I do. You're scared, Dean. You're scared because your year is running out and you're still going to Hell and you're freaked.] And how do you know that? [Because I know you!] Really? [Yeah, because I've been following you around my entire life! I mean, I've been looking up to since I was four, Dean—studying you, trying to be just like my big brother. So yeah, I know you. Better than anyone else in the entire world. And this is exactly how you act when you're terrified. And I mean, I can't blame you. It's just....] What? [It's just, I wish you would drop the show and be my brother again, 'cause.... Just 'cause.] (28:16)

That's my job, right? Show my little brother the ropes? (39:01)

Sam—

[Dean: And how do you know that?] Because I know you! [Really?] Yeah, because I've been following you around my entire life! I mean, I've been looking up to since I was four, Dean—studying you, trying to be just like my big brother. So yeah, I know you. Better than anyone else in the entire world. And this is exactly how you act when you're terrified. And I mean, I can't blame you. It's just.... [What?] It's just, I wish you would drop the show and be my brother again, 'cause.... Just 'cause. (29:17)

[Gordon: You're right. I'm a bloodthirsty killer.] Don't talk about it like you don't have a choice. [I don't.] Yes, you do, Gordon. (34:03)

Misc—

Gordon: We're the same now, you and me. I know how it is, walking around with something evil inside you. It's just too bad you won't do the right thing and kill yourself. I'm gonna! As soon as I'm done with you. Two last good deeds: killing you, and killing myself. (34:56)

8. A VERY SUPERNATURAL CHRISTMAS

Dean—

Santa doesn't have a brother. There is no Santa. [Sam: Yeah, I know. You're the one who told me that in the first place, remember?] (04:57)

Hey, speaking of, we should have one this year. [Sam: Have one what?] A Christmas! [No, thanks.] No, we'll get a tree, a little Boston Market—just like when we were little. [Dean, those weren't exactly Hallmark memories for me, you know?] What are you talking about? We had some great Christmases! [Whose childhood are you talking about?] Oh, come on, Sam. [No! Just...no.] Alright, Grinch. (05:43)

[Sam: I'm old enough, Dean. You can tell me the truth.] You don't wanna know the truth. Believe me. [Is that why we never talk about...Mom?] Shut up! Don't you ever talk about Mom! Ever! (07:32)

Why are you the boy that hates Christmas? [Sam: Dean—] I mean, I admit it, we had a few bumpy holidays when we were kids. [Bumpy?] That was then! We'll do it right this year. (10:24)

Remember that wreath Dad brought home thy one year? [Sam: You mean the one he stole from like, a liquor store?] Yeah, it was a bunch of empty beer cans. That thing was great. I bet if I looked around hard enough, I could probably find one just like it. (18:30)

[Sam: Alright. Dude. What's going on with you?] What? [I mean, since when are you Bing Crosby all of a sudden? Why do you want to do Christmas so bad?] Why are you so against it? I mean, were your childhood memories that traumatic? [No, that has nothing to do with it.] Then what? [I mean, I just—I don't get it. I—you haven't talked about Christmas in years.] Well, yeah? This is my last year. (18:47)

We have the coolest dad in the world. He's a superhero. [Sam: He is?] Yeah. Monsters are real. Dad fights 'em. He's fighting them right now. [But Dad said the monsters under my bed weren't real.] That's 'cause he'd already checked under there. (21:20)

Sam—

[Dean: Santa doesn't have a brother. There is no Santa.] Yeah, I know. You're the one who told me that in the first place, remember? (04:57)

[Dean: Hey, speaking of, we should have one this year.] Have one what? [A Christmas!] No, thanks. [No, we'll get a tree, a little Boston Market—just like when we were little.] Dean, those weren't exactly Hallmark memories for me, you know? [What are you talking about? We had some great Christmases!] Whose childhood are you talking about? [Oh, come on, Sam.] No! Just...no. (05:43)

Alright. Dude. What's going on with you? [Dean: What?] I mean, since when are you Bing Crosby all of a sudden? Why do you want to do Christmas so bad? [Why are you so against it? I mean, were your childhood memories that traumatic?] No, that has nothing to do with it. [Then what?] I mean, I just—I don't get it. I—you haven't talked about Christmas in years. [Well, yeah? This is my last year.] I know. That's why I can't. [What do you mean?] I mean, I can't just sit around, drinking eggnog, pretending everything's okay, when I know next Christmas you'll be dead. I just can't. (18:47)

[Edward: You, mister, better show us a little respect.] Or what? You'll eat us? (29:29)

Here. Take this. [Dean: No. No, that's for Dad.] Dad lied to me. I want you to have it. [You sure?] I'm sure. (37:02)

9. MALLEUS MALEFICARUM

Dean—

I hate witches. They're always spewing their bodily fluids everywhere. [Sam: Pretty much.] It's creepy, you know, it's downright unsanitary! (05:05)

[Ruby: Why are you even a part of this conversation?] Oh, I don't know, maybe because he's my brother, you black-eyed skank! [Oh, right, right! And you care about your brother so much. That's why you're checking out in a few months, leaving him all alone?] Shut up. [At least let me try and save him since you won't be here to do it anymore.] I said shut up! (19:22)

It tasted like ass. (24:36)

So all of them? Every damn demon, they were all human once? [Ruby: Everyone I've ever met.] Well, they sure don't act like it. [Most of them have forgotten what it means, or even that they were. That's what happens when you go to Hell, Dean. That's what Hell is: forgetting what you are.] Philosophy lesson from a demon. I'll pass, thanks. [It's not philosophy. It's not a metaphor. There's a real fire in the pit, agonies you can't even imagine.] No, I saw Hellraiser. I get the gist. [Actually, they got that pretty close, except for all the custom leather. The answer is yes, by the way.] Sorry? [Yes, the same thing will happen to you. It might take centuries, but sooner or later, Hell will burn away your humanity. Every Hell-bound soul, everyone turns into someone else. Turns you into us, so yeah—yeah, you can count on it.] There's no way of saving me from the pit, is there? [No.] (35:42)

Sam—

They need to be stopped. [Dean: Stopped like, stopped? They're human, Sam.] They're murderers. (17:49)

[Dean: Are you feeling okay?] Why are you always asking me that? [Because you're taking advice from a demon, for starters. And by the way, you seem less and less worried about offing people, you know. It used to eat you up inside.] Yeah? And what has that gotten me? [Nothing, but it's just what you're supposed to do, okay? We're supposed to drive in the freaking car and freaking argue about this stuff! You know, you go on about the sanctity of life and all that crap.] Wait, so you're mad because I'm starting to agree with you? [No, I'm not mad! I'm—I'm...I'm worried, Sam, because you're not acting like yourself.] Yeah, you're right, I'm not! I don't have a choice! (20:45)

Look, Dean, you're leaving, right? And I gotta stay here in this crap hole of a world. Alone. So the way I see it, if I'm gonna make it, if I'm gonna fight this war after you're gone, then I gotta change. [Change into what?] Into you. I got to be more like you. (21:25)

10. DREAM A LITTLE DREAM OF ME

Dean—

Can I get a whiskey? Double, neat. [I'm serious, Dean.] No, you're drunk. [I mean, where you're going, what you're gonna become. I can't stop it. I'm starting to think maybe even Ruby can't stop it. But really, the thing is, no one can save you.] What I've been telling you. [No, that's not what I mean. I mean, no one can save you because you don't want to be saved. I mean, how can you care so little about yourself? What's wrong with you?] (03:16)

You gotta snap out of this now. You gotta snap out of this now! You're not gonna die. I'm not gonna let you die. I'm not gonna let you die, you're like a father to me. You gotta believe me, please! [Bobby: I'm breathing?] Yes! Now take control of it! (22:30)

Great! Well, I'm just gonna go blow my brains out now! (25:59)

Well, aren't you a handsome son of a gun. [Nightmare Dean: We need to talk.] I get it, I get it. I'm my own worst nightmare. That it, huh? Kinda like the Superman III junkyard scene—a little mano y mano with myself? [Joke all you want, smartass, but you can't lie to me. I know the truth. I know how dead you are inside, how worthless you feel. I know how you look into a mirror, and hate what you see.] Sorry, pal. It's not gonna work. You're not real. [Sure I am. I'm you.] I don't think so. 'Cause see, this is my siesta. Not yours. All I gotta do is snap my fingers, and you go bye-bye. [I'm not going anywhere. Neither are you. Like I said, we need to talk.] (30:37)

[Nightmare Dean: I mean, you're going to Hell, and you won't lift a finger to stop it. Talk about low self-esteem! Then again, I guess it's not much of a life worth saving, now, is it?] Come on, Dean, come on, wake up. [I mean, after all, you've got nothing outside of Sam. You are nothing. You're as mindless and obedient as an attack dog.] That's not true. [No? What are the things that you want? What are the things that you dream? I mean, your car—that's Dad's. Your favorite leather jacket—Dad's. Your music—Dad's. Do you even have an original thought? No. No, all there is, is "Watch out for Sammy. Look after your brother, boy!" You can still hear your Dad's voice in your head, can't you? Clear as a bell.] Just shut up. [I mean, think about it. All he ever did was train you, boss you around. But Sam—Sam, he doted on. Sam, he loved.] I mean it, I'm getting angry. [Dad knew who you really were. A good soldier and nothing else. Daddy's blunt little instrument. Your own father didn't care whether you lived or died. Why should you?] Son of a bitch! My father was an obsessed bastard! All that crap he dumped on me about protecting Sam—that was his crap! He's the one who couldn't protect his family! He's the one who let Mom die! Who wasn't there for Sam! I always was! It wasn't fair! I didn't deserve what he put on me, and I don't deserve to go to Hell! (33:21)

[Nightmare Demon Dean: You can't escape me, Dean. You're gonna die. And this? This is what you're gonna become! (35:32)

The thing is...I don't want to die. I don't want to go to Hell. [Sam: Alright. Yeah. We'll find a way to save you.] Okay, good. (38:40)

Sam—

[Dean: There you are. What are you doing?] Having a drink. [It's 2:00 in the afternoon. Drinking whiskey?] I drink whiskey all the time.] No you don't. [What's the big deal? You get sloppy in bars. You hit on chicks all the time. Why can't I?] It's kinda slim pickings around here. What's going on with you?] (02:50)

I tried, Dean. [Dean: To do what?] To save you. [Can I get a whiskey? Double, neat.] I'm serious, Dean. [No, you're drunk.] I mean, where you're going, what you're gonna become. I can't stop it. I'm starting to think maybe even Ruby can't stop it. But really, the thing is, no one can save you. [What I've been telling you.] No, that's not what I mean. I mean, no one can save you because you don't want to be saved. I mean, how can you care so little about yourself? What's wrong with you? (03:16)

[Dean: The thing is...I don't want to die. I don't want to go to Hell.] Alright. Yeah. We'll find a way to save you. (38:40)

Misc—

Jeremy: You know what that's like? Not to be able to dream? You never rest, not really. It's like being awake for 15 years. [Sam: And let me guess. That's makes you go crazy.] I just want to be left alone. I just want to dream. (32:32)

11. MYSTERY SPOT

Dean—

[Sam: Twice now, I've watched you die. And I can't. I won't do it again, okay? And you're just gonna have to believe me. Please.] Alright. I still think you're nuts, but...okay. Whatever this is, we'll figure it out. (11:44)

Wait, did he.... [Sam: Yesterday, yeah.] And? [And what?] Did it look cool like in the movies? [You peed yourself.] Of course I peed myself. A man gets hit by a car, you think he has full control of his bladder? Come on! (13:05)

Sam—

Twice now, I've watched you die. And I can't. I won't do it again, okay? And you're just gonna have to believe me. Please. (11:44)

[Gabriel: How long will it take you to realize you can't save your brother, no matter what?] (26:17)

[Bobby: Call me, Sam. We can find it together. No one man should take something like this on alone. You hear me?] (30:17)

[Bobby: I thought you'd back down from killing a man.] Well, you thought wrong. Leave the stuff, I'll do it myself. [I told you, I'm not gonna let you kill anyone—] It's none of your damn business what I do! (32:11)

[Gabriel: Let me tell ya. Whoever said Dean was the dysfunctional one has never seen you with a sharp object in your hands.] (34:50)

[Gabriel: Sam, there's a lesson here that I've been trying to drill into that freakish, Cro-Magnon skull of yours.] Lesson? What lesson? [This obsession to save Dean? The way you two keep sacrificing yourselves for each other? Nothing good comes out of it. Just blood and pain. Dean's your weakness. The bad guys know it, too. He's gonna be the death of you, Sam. Sometimes you just gotta let people go.] He's my brother. [Yup. And like it or not, this is what life's gonna be like without him.] Please, just.... Please. [I swear, it's like talking to a brick wall.] (35:36)

Misc—

Gabriel!Bobby: You and Dean, you...you boys are the closest thing I have to family. (32:18)

12. JUS IN BELLO

Dean—

[Henriksen: Sorry, Dean. Truth is, your daddy brainwashed you with all that devil talk and no doubt touched you in a bad place.] (08:20)

It's kind of wild, right? I mean, it's like they're coming right for us. They've never done that before. It's like we got a contract on us. Think it's because we're so awesome? I think it's 'cause we're so awesome. (16:37)

[Henriksen: Can you guys beat it? Can you win?] Honestly, I think the world's gonna end bloody. But it doesn't mean we shouldn't fight. We do have choices. I choose to go down swingin'. [Plus you got nothing to go home to but your brother.] Yeah. (26:00)

[Ruby: This spell is very specific. It calls for a person of virtue.] I got virtue. [Nice try. You're not a virgin.] Nobody's a virgin! No. No way. You're kidding me, r—? You're— [Nancy: What? It's a choice, okay?] Wh— S—so you've never—not even once? I mean, not even.... Wow! (29:18)

Please tell me you're not actually considering this. We're talking about holding down a girl and cutting out her heart. [Sam: And we're also talking about 30 people out there, Dean—innocent people, who are all gonna die, along with everyone in here.] It doesn't mean that we throw away the rulebook and stop acting like humans. I'm not gonna let that demon kill some nice, sweet, innocent girl who hasn't even been laid. I mean, look, if that's how you win wars, then I don't want to win. [Then what? What do we do, Dean?] I got a plan. I'm not saying it's a good one, I'm not even saying that it'll work, but it sure as hell beats killing a virgin. (31:25)

Sam—

*Dean gets shot.* Alright, don't be such a wuss. (13:54)

[Dean: Who sent 'em?] [Ruby: You didn't tell Dean? Wow, I'm surprised.] [Tell me what?] [There's a big new up-and-comer. Real pied piper.] [Who is he?] [Not he. Her. Her name is Lilith.] [Lilith?] [And she really, really wants Sam's intestines on a stick. Guess she sees him as competition.] [You knew about this? Well, gee, Sam, is there anything else I should know?] (27:32)

So you're just gonna leave? [Ruby: Hey! I was gonna kill myself to help you win. I'm not gonna stand here and watch you lose. And I'm disappointed, because I tried. I really did. But clearly, I bet on the wrong horse.] (32:30)

13. GHOSTFACERS

Dean—

Alright, seriously, does looking at this nightmare through that camera make you feel better or something? I mean.... [Maggie: Um, I, uh.... Well, yeah. Uh, yeah, I think so.] Oh. (19:31)

[Sam: World just isn't ready for the Ghostfacers.] That's too bad. I kind of liked the show. [Had its moments.] (40:29)

Sam—

Yeah! I mean, it's bizarre how y'all are able to, uh, to honor Corbett's memory while grossly exploiting the manner of his death. Well done. [Dean: Yeah, it's a real tight rope you're walking.] (38:56)

Well, um, our experience—you know what you get when you show the world the truth? [Dean: A straitjacket. Or a punch in the face. Sometimes both.] (39:08)

Misc—

Harry: Ed.... You gotta go be gay for that poor dead intern. You gotta send him into the light. (32:54)

Ed: Gay love can pierce through the veil of death and save the day. (37:15)

14. LONG DISTANCE CALL

Dean—

[Sam: So you two were talking a case?] No, we were actually talking about our feelings and then our favorite boy bands. Yeah, we're talking a case! (04:22)

What if it really is Dad? What happens if he calls back? [Sam: What do you mean?] What do I say? (15:28)

[John: Dean, how could you do it?] Do what? [Sell your soul.] I was looking after Sammy, like you told me to. [I never wanted this, never. You're my boy. I love you. I can't watch you go go Hell, Dean.] I'm sorry. I don't know how to stop it. (18:18)

The man is dead, and you're still butting heads with the guy! [Sam: That's not what this is about.] Then what is it? [The fact is, we got no hard proof here, Dean! After everything, you're still just going on blind faith!] Yeah! Well, maybe! You know, maybe that's all I got, okay? (23:16)

I wanted to believe so badly that there was a way out of this. I mean, I'm staring down the barrel at this thing. You know, Hell. For real, forever, and I'm just.... [Sam: Yeah.] I'm scared, Sam. I'm really scared. [I know.] I guess I was willing to believe anything. You know, last act of a desperate man. [There's nothing wrong with having hope, you know?] Hope doesn't get you jack squat. I can't expect Dad to show up with some miracle at the last minute. I can't expect anybody to, you know. And the only person that can get me out of this thing is me. [Sam: And me.] "And me?" [What?] Deep revelation, having a real moment here, that's what you come back with? "And me?" [Do you want a poem?] Moment's gone. (38:07)

Sam—

[Dean: Wow, you know, you'd think a Stanford education and a high school hookup rate of 0.0 would produce better results than that.] Hilarious. (16:03)

There's nothing wrong with having hope, you know. [Dean: Hope doesn't get you jack squat. I can't expect Dad to show up with some miracle at the last minute. I can't expect anybody to, you know? And the only person that can get me out of this thing is me.] And me. ["And me?"] What? [Deep revelation, having a real moment here, and that's what you come back with? "And me?"] Do you want a poem? [Moment's gone.] (38:46)

15. TIME IS ON MY SIDE

Dean—

[Rufus: You know, I don't even bother drinking unless it's this stuff. Nectar of the gods, I'm telling you.] Yeah, it's a nice change, you know. Most of my whiskey comes from a plastic jug. (18:08)

[Rufus: I know ain't no peashooter gonna save you.] What makes you so sure? ['Cause that's the job, kid. Even if you manage to scrape out of this one, there's just gonna be something else down the road. Folks like us, there ain't no happy ending. We all got it coming.] (19:05)

[Rufus: You do her ear?] Hey, man, I'll try anything once, but I don't know, that sounds uncomfortable. (21:24)

[Bela: You're not the cold-blooded type.] You mean like you? That's true. See, I couldn't imagine killing my own parents. (28:20)

Look, this is simple. [Sam: Simple?] To me, it is, okay? Black or white—human, not human. (36:39)

Sam—

[Dean: Are you coming or not?] I'm staying here. [No, you're not. Because I'm not gonna let you wander out in the woods alone to track some organ-stealing freak.] You're not gonna let me? [No, I'm not gonna let you.] How are you gonna stop me? (15:12)

16. NO REST FOR THE WICKED

Dean—

[Bobby: Ain’t you just bringing down the room?] Well, it’s a gift. [Sam: I’m sorry, so then, what are we supposed to do, Dean?] Look, just ‘cause I gotta die doesn’t mean you have to, okay? We—either we go in smart, or we don’t go in at all. (05:01)

[Sam: Then give me another option, Dean. I mean, tell me what else!] [Bobby: Sam’s right—] No! Damn it! Just no. We are not gonna make the same mistakes all over again. You guys want to save me, find something else. (05:42)

Oh, I knew you’d show up. ‘Cause I knew Sam wouldn’t listen! But you’re not gonna teach him anything. You understand me? Over my dead body. (10:29)

[Ruby: So you’re just too stupid to live, is that it? Then fine! You deserve hell! And I wish I could be there, Dean. I wish I could smell the flesh sizzle off your bones. I wish I could be there to hear you scream!] And I wish you’d shut your piehole, but we don’t always get what we want. (12:25)

Sam, we are not gonna make the same mistake all over again. [Sam: You said that, but what does that even mean?] Don’t you see a pattern here? Dad’s deal, my deal, now this? I mean, every time one of us is—is up the creek, the other is begging to sell their soul. That’s all this is, man. Ruby’s just jerking your chain down the road. You know what it’s paved with, and you know where it’s going. (13:43)

Sammy, all I’m saying is that you’re my weak spot. You are. And I’m yours. [Sam: You don’t mean that. We’re—we’re family.] I know. And those evil sons of bitches know it, too. I mean, what we’ll do for each other, you know, how far we’ll go, they’re using that against us. [So, what, we just stop looking out for each other?] No, we stop being martyrs, man. We stop spreading it for these demons. We take this knife, and we go after Lilith our way, the way Dad taught us to. And if we go down, uh…then we go down swinging. What do you think? [I think you totally should’ve been jamming “Eye of the Tiger” right there.] Oh, bite me. I totally rehearsed that speech, too. (14:39)

[Sam: You know, if this doesn’t, uh…. If this doesn’t go the way we want, I want you to know that—] No, no no no no no no. [No what?] You’re not gonna bust out the misty goodbye speech, okay? I mean, if this is my last day on Earth, I do not want it to be socially awkward. (19:54)

[Sam: I’m not gonna let you go to Hell, Dean!] Yes, you are! Yes, you are. I’m sorry. I mean, this is all my fault. I know that. But what you’re doing, it’s not gonna save me. It’s only gonna kill you. [Then what am I supposed to do?] Keep fighting. Take care of my wheels. Sam, remember what Dad taught you, okay? And remember what I taught you. (32:36)

Sam—

We’re gonna get this done. I don’t care what it takes, Dean. You’re not gonna go to Hell. I’m not gonna let you. I swear. Everything’s gonna be okay. (03:21)

[Ruby: Sam, you’ve got some God-given talent. Well, not God-given, but you get the gist.] All that psychic crap? That’s gone ever since Yellow Eyes died. [Not gone. Dormant. And not just visions, either. Why do you think Lilith’s so scared of you?] Right. She’s scared of me. (09:06)

[Ruby: You don’t like being different. You hate the way Dean looks at you sometimes, like you’re some sort of sideshow freak.] (09:50)

What are you afraid’s gonna happen? This is me. I can handle it. And if it’ll save you— [Dean: Why even risk it?] Because you’re my brother. And because you did the same thing for me. [I know. And look how that turned out. All I’m saying…. Sammy, all I’m saying is that you’re my weak spot. You are. And I’m yours.] You don’t mean that. We’re—we’re family. [I know. And those evil sons of bitches know it, too. I mean, what we’ll do for each other, you know, how far we’ll go, they’re using that against us.] So, what, we just stop looking out for each other? [No, we stop being martyrs, man. We stop spreading it for these demons. We take this knife, and we go after Lilith our way, the way Dad taught us to. And if we go down, uh…then we go down swinging. What do you think?] I think you totally should’ve been jamming “Eye of the Tiger” right there. (14:11)

There’s got to be something. There’s got to be some way. What—whatever it is, I’ll do it! Don’t—Dean! I’m not gonna let you go to Hell, Dean! (32:32)

Misc—

[Dean: This is about me and Sam, okay? This isn’t your fight.] Bobby: The hell it isn’t! Family don’t end with blood, boy. (18:50)

[whatifxwereyou]

Firestorm Part 9: Isolation

Fandom: Mortal Kombat 2021 Liu Kang x Reader

A/N: skalfjwealjf I live for the angst

Start From the Beginning << Previous Chapter Next Chapter >> Chapter Index

Your head was pounding. The stone you leaned against seemed to bounce with the throbbing of your head. A soft wet cloth was dabbed against it. Droplets trickled down your forehead and over your cheek only to be wiped away by a familiar hand.

Liu Kang.

You opened your eyes and found yourself curled against the wall in Raiden’s chamber. That was right. He’d had to read you after all that had happened in the fight pit. Each time you woke up from these experiences you had to face the terror of finding your friends injured and exhausted. But this time they didn’t seem to be any different than when you’d last seen them. Liu Kang’s eyes were filled with concern but he said nothing as he dabbed your burning skin. He offered you the faintest flicker of a smile to acknowledge that you were awake.

Behind him sat Kung Lao with his knees folded. He looked nervous. He had several scrapes that had been tended to while you’d been unconscious. Liu Kang looked like he hadn’t bothered seeing anyone for his.

“She’s awake.” Kung Lao’s eyes darted to the side as Raiden approached from somewhere behind him.

“Good.”

The guilt was overwhelming. Again. Guilt for hurting them. Guilt for being so useless in those moments. You’d been strong once but now you felt as though that were something you were incapable of. It was frustrating. You’d felt strong for just a few seconds before it had all gone horribly wrong.

“We must unravel this curse.” Raiden crouched next to where you were leaning. “I fear that there is not much time left for us to do so.” You had nothing to say. He was right. You knew that. “I think that we must uncover who you truly are, Y/N.”

“We know who she is.” Kung Lao was defensive. He’d always been defensive when it came to that kind of thing. Even as kids, he’d stood up for you when anyone questioned you.

“Kung Lao, that is not what I meant. I mean that there is more to her than what we know. I have a feeling that this thing is a part of you that’s hidden away, Y/N. Your gift of sight is unrelated to your arcana. I think that the answer might lie in your heritage. Something isn’t connecting. We have only parts of the full picture. There is a mystery within your mystery. I wish for you to return to the place where you were born to try and uncover it.”

“Most people went to Guilin for more complicated medical procedures. That’s probably a good place to start.” Kung Lao was again at your defense.

“I wasn’t born there,” You finally spoke but your voice sounded tired. Liu Kang kept dabbing the cloth over your forehead. The cold was soothing but it also gave you the shivers. You were freezing. It was probably a damn fever again. You missed having normal crappy days. Days where you’d been fine other than an annoying sinus headache or a stubbed toe. Everyday seemed to be something new and horrible now. At least it didn’t seem like you’d hurt anyone after you’d given yourself over to Raiden so he could understand what you’d seen. “I was born in South Korea. My parents moved to China shortly after I was born.”

“Really?” Kung Lao was surprised, maybe even a little annoyed that he hadn’t known that about you. He had been the Y/N-expert thus far. It was kind of charming how defensive he was over you.

“Yeah. Mom’s Korean and Dad’s Chinese. I’m trying to remember where it was.” You furrowed your brow and massaged your temple. Liu smoothed your hair back and you gave him a look but he averted his eyes with a slight smile. “Andong, I think. I meant to visit as I got older but never got around to it. I used to have the address to their old apartment but… that’s been lost. If I looked at a map, then I could probably at least find some familiar names.”

“When you have recovered then you will go to Andong.” Raiden instructed.

“To what end?” You frowned. What did he expect you to find there? It wasn’t like there would be answers hiding in any obvious places. For all you knew the apartment your parents had shared before they’d moved to China had been demolished and replaced with something else. And it wasn’t like you could ask anyone. Your remaining family thought you were dead.

“Start with birth records. There are memories, Y/N. Memories that I cannot see.

He could see your memories? Oh no. You didn’t like that.

“Memories?”

“Important parts of your history are locked away. They are hidden much like parts of your visions are. Someone doesn’t want you to know what is hidden there. Someone doesn’t want us to know. You must uncover these truths.”

“I still don’t understand how I’m supposed to do that.” It felt impossible.

“You will find a way. I have faith.” Raiden’s encouraging smile backed with the determination behind his eyes was encouraging even if you were running out of hope that there was anything after this for you other than being locked away until you withered and ultimately died. “Find a connection to your birthplace. Find your story where it starts. At the beginning.” When he said it, it made perfect sense but you still had no idea what you were looking for. “Liu Kang and Kung Lao will accompany you. I have a feeling that whatever has been hidden from you will be quite dangerous to reveal.”

“Okay.” You had no room to argue with a god. Any idea was better than no idea and Raiden seemed confident. Going to where the artifacts had been hidden in your vision had yielded results. If Lord Raiden thought that you needed to visit Andong and look at your birth records then you would.

“I’ll still take you to the city before we go. I promised.” Kung Lao smiled brightly at you. He seemed to be a beacon of positivity in a room of heavy energy.

“I could probably get what I need in Andong.” You didn’t see the point of taking a separate trip. You were far less worried about that now anyway. What was the likelihood that you even could get pregnant? You were so sick. Your body barely had any energy to give to you nonetheless a baby. You were pretty sure that something akin to a parasite would not survive within what you were now considering an inhospitable environment.

“No, no. I promised we’d go. And it’ll be a nice break before we go to Korea.” Kung Lao smiled and this suddenly seemed important to him so you weren’t going to argue. You didn’t have the energy to argue. Besides, you could use a few new things. “One of the monks offered to come with us just in case you needed medical assistance. Your friend. The mean one.”

“Chen?” You could not mentally comprehend the embarrassment of going on a trip with Chen and Kung Lao to the city so you could buy condoms and birth control because of Liu Kang. Later. That would be a horrible situation for later. Right now you were feeling too exhausted and defeated to deal with unpacking that. “Is that safe?”

“With Kung Lao there you should be fine.” Liu Kang spoke for the first time since you’d woken up. His voice sounded weary. He’d cleaned up but his scrapes on his face and arms weren’t tended to. The guilt again. It was awful.

“Raiden said he’d be on alert in case anything went wrong.”

“I just don’t know if it makes sense to do anything unnecessary right now.” You were afraid to go out into the world again.

“You can’t stop living because something might happen.” Liu bowed his head politely, clasping the prayer beads in his palm. He’d stopped dabbing your forehead. You knew he was right but it didn’t mean it was easy for you to consider putting anyone in harm’s way.

“Rest for a day or two. But no longer. There is work to be done.”

“I don’t think that whatever this is plans on allowing me to recover. It almost feels like… this happened because I had regained some ground earlier. It felt the need to take it away from me. I don’t know if that’s crazy or not.” You were sure that sounded silly. But judging by the look on everyone’s faces, they didn’t think it was crazy or silly at all.

“Rest, Y/N.” Raiden bowed his head.

“I’ll bring you to your new space so you can do that.” Liu Kang set aside the cloth, next to the bowl he’d been getting water from on the floor. He seemed to have much more to say on the matter but held his tongue. You guessed that whatever it was he wanted to say would be said in a private conversation later.

“I’ll start moving things.” Kung Lao jumped to his feet and dusted off his hands. Raiden offered you his hand and you took it. You were wobbly and exhausted, hands tingling. What had happened while you’d been out of it to make you feel this drained?

“Don’t be defeated. We will figure this out. I have a feeling that we’re close. Like you said, you were getting stronger when this happened. Whoever is behind this wants you to feel defeated. They want you to feel like you have no control. We will not allow that to happen.” Raiden’s determination on your behalf was remarkable. It must have been much easier to make lofty promises while being a god. You were a little touched that they were so willing to help you but the truth was that you were weak. You felt weak. The little bit of strength that you’d regained had been taken from you. You felt like you could have gone to sleep and never woken up. If it hadn’t been for Liu Kang and Kung Lao then you probably would have.

You thought that whoever was behind this was doing an exceptional job. Not to compliment them or anything but you were defeated. You were exhausted. At the end of your rope, even. Liu Kang offered you his arm and you took it. Raiden watched you go. Kung Lao chattered along the way but neither you nor Liu had much to say in return. It didn’t bother Kung Lao. He was happy to fill the silence.

“What happened when I was out this time?” You asked when Kung Lao parted ways with you. He was headed to your old room to gather some of your things while Liu Kang brought you to your new room. A much more isolated place. It was a far longer walk so far. Liu Kang sighed heavily as if he did not wish to discuss this. You were sure it was something ridiculous like talking in crazy demon voices and ink exploding out of you. “Come on, tell me.” You wanted to understand the exhaustion you were feeling.

“Nothing happened.” Liu didn’t sound very convincing.

“Bull.” You tried to joke but Liu Kang stopped walking in the hallway. He grabbed your hand to stop you from walking too and then stepped closer to you. He took your other hand and held both between you.

“Really. Nothing happened. You just… laid there.” He seemed more upset by this than he had been when you’d been speaking in odd voices and making ink thrones and dragons. “Raiden thinks that you were too drained to do more. At least that’s what he said.”

“And you don’t believe him?”

“I think that Raiden finds it easy to avoid saying things that might make us act rashly.” Liu Kang didn’t sound like he approved of the idea but he didn’t sound angry about it either. “Or sometimes he thinks it is better not to mention them.”

“And what is it you think he’s not saying” You didn’t like his tone. You didn’t like the implications. Liu Kang seemed to be the one avoiding saying what he thought was happening. He looked down at your hands and suddenly you understood without him having to say it at all. That was why Raiden had said that he didn’t think there was much time left.

Oh.

“We’re going to figure this out.”

“I’m not dying, Liu Kang.” You sounded awfully confident for a woman who had just considered going to sleep and never getting back up. Liu averted his eyes but you could see the slightest smile on his lips.

“I know.” He decided after a long moment of silence. “I won’t let you.”

You knew that neither one of you truly had control over life or death but you would fight until the end no matter what that end was. It was cruel to have someone like Liu Kang come into your life only for this to happen. It was cruel to be reunited with your childhood best friend only to slowly decay and potentially lose him again. You didn’t want to hurt them more than you already had. You had never wanted to hurt anyone. Even in your worst moments, when you’d been angry at the world, angry at the people of your hometown for treating you so terribly, you had never wished pain or unhappiness upon any of them.

But hurt was unavoidable. You had already hurt them.

“At least you didn’t have to fight my arcana while I was out of it this time.” You gestured down the hall and Liu Kang led them onward but didn’t let go of one of your hands. He just casually held it as you walked like that was no big deal.

“It is a pleasure to fight your arcana, Y/N. Even if you are exhausting in those moments.”

“You’re very sweet but I know that it’s draining for you. Maybe I was just too exhausted from everything that happened in the fight pit. Did Raiden tell you anything about the man I saw? How could I create someone and mimic their power like that without having ever seen them? I can barely create you two and control you properly and I know you very well.”

“He suspects that whoever has cursed you did it. Not you. That was all he told us.”

“I thought that thing was going to kill me. What a way to go. Killed by my own arcana. Are there any records of that? Would I be a first?”

“Not the first. There have been a few unfortunate incidents… one involving a laser and well, you wouldn’t be the first.” Liu Kang managed to joke with you and that was a relief. He led you down a flight of steps and the hall at the bottom was dark. Liu bathed his palm in fire and led you down the hallway and around the corner. The room he led you into was smaller than the one you’d had before but it was more secure. No windows and the doors were heavy. There was an old table with a singular candle atop it. Liu lit the candle before extinguishing the flame in his palm. “Welcome to your new home. Are you sure this is what you want?”

“I can’t think of another option, Liu.”

“But what if you get trapped… Kung Lao told me about that morning and…”

“No one else will get hurt because of me.” You spoke firmly. There was no arguing with you on this. “When I’m not this volatile then I will happily move back to the other room. But until then, Liu, this is the only solution that I can come up with.”

“I don’t like this, Y/N.”

“I know you don’t. I don’t either. But it’s the right thing to do.”

He sighed heavily. The door opened behind you and Kung Lao came in holding your entire desk. Then he slammed it down inside the room. “It’s too dark in that hallway. We have to put in some lights. I nearly died getting down here.”

“There’s got to be an easier way to move my things than you blindly carrying them through dimly lit hallways like a crazy person.”

“Name one.”

“I’ll go get a dolly.” Liu Kang patted you on the shoulder and then shook his head in dismay at Kung Lao before they continued about the task of moving your things to your new space. You sat on the edge of the desk and looked at the small, dark room. This was temporary. You would leave this space successful. You had to.