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superstarcherrycolagirl · 11 months ago

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we’ll be alright

“fine line” by harry styles

benny cross x fem!reader / 1.2k words

idea: you get hurt, but benny is an absolute wreck

tw: assault, fighting, gore, angst, crying, happy ending

notes: ya’ll when i tell you my thumbs, hands, and arms are burning cause i’ve been COOKING!! i was craving some angst (i love to suffer) so way not make this beautiful man suffer!! that final seen on the door steps had me weeping so i needed to write something similar to that SO HERE IT IS :))) (p.s i kinda need some kathy ideas)

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the baby blue ice pack created a weird sensation against your left eye and the side of your face. numb was what it was, but you couldn’t really think straight at that point.

sitting on the edge of the bed with kathy beside you, rubbing her hand up and down your back, it almost lulled you to sleep. but the medicine you took and the exhaustion you felt might have also played a part in your sleepiness.

that fight was never meant to happen. those young kids should’ve never been let into the bar. johnny kicked himself for not literally kicking them out the moment they walked in. the kid with the buzzed head should’ve never gotten so close to benny with you behind him, and benny should’ve known you were behind him and not with your girlfriends before he dodged his swing, so you’d never be served that harsh punch to your sweet face.

in the split moment the whole bar went quiet, your faint slow breaths filled the air. you were in shock, touching your face to see blood on your hand. that kid stacked his punching rings on that night. when you looked up from your hands to the kid in front of you, your eyes watered and threatened to spill, that’s when chaos broke loose. but thank god you can’t remember any of that right now. you cried so hard on kathy’s shoulder the entire ride home, thanks to danny for driving you back in his car, that you think you can’t cry anymore.

you jerked awake due to the loud knocking at your apartment door, kathy settling you down first before standing up “i’m gonna go grab that sweetheart and i’ll be right back. stay right here for me babe” she left your bedroom calmly, hearing her boot cladded footsteps taking a left turn and and marching down the hallway

you heard muffled voices through the walls, then moments later you heard a second pair of footsteps stomping down to your door. or was it 3 pairs?

“got some energy left in you babe? you got some company” you looked up at kathy, but you couldn't see the people with her. so you took the ice pack off your face, a vivid mix of purples, red, and blues plastering the left half of your face, and looked up. benny had finally come home and johnny was stopping by!

“who is it kat- oh my gosh! you guys are alive!” it’s like a flip switched in your brain as you got up from the bed and stumbled a bit to get to them. “lord i can’t imagine what it was like in there! are you guys alri-” that’s when benny grabbed onto you and pulled you into his chest. tight. “hi honey! i’m so happy you’re here! did everything clear up? are you okay?” you asked sweetly. you were quite lethargic in your state, so you couldn’t pick up on how thick the air was due to how worried everyone was about you. not until you listened to benny’s breath stutter and tiny whimpers leaving his mouth.

he’s crying.

you tried to pull away from him to look up at him, but he wouldn’t let you go. he wasn’t gonna let you go, not after tonight’s events. you didn’t know what to do, why was he crying? you could only hold him, rubbing your right hand in circles on his back. sooner or later, your left arm extended and reached out abruptly. kathy was confused at first, but was quickly diminished when realizing that this was your way of saying hello to johnny. johnny softly held your hand, afraid that you were aching all over, as he was caressing your hand with his thumb. “hello to you too sweetheart” he said in his deep voice.

you don’t know what was said as you were squashed into benny’s chest, but kathy and johnny left the room quietly, johnny muttering to benny that they were going for a “chat and smoke” and they’d be outside in the living room.

after the door closed, benny pulled back from you. you could finally see his face, but your heart sank down to your stomach so fast. benny’s face was rosy and puffy, while his eyes and cheeks were wet from crying. you brought your hand up to his right cheek, a small cut touching the bottom of your thumb. “..oh honey” you said sadly. you expected him to say that he was okay, or telling you he was going out with johnny, or god forbid say that he was gonna leave. what you didn’t expect was your words to unleash the floodgates of benny’s emotions.

benny started to cry hard, his breaths becoming frantic as tears continued to fall down his face. his hands were shaking, bruises and cuts all over his body, clothes torn, and blood all over. god you hope it wasn’t his own.

benny moved his hands to hold both sides of your neck, worried he would hurt you even more by touching your face. then he started to speak, but his voice watery and shaky, like a little boy “m’so..so s-orry baby, m’so sorry, m.. so sorry,” his stutters and hiccups were hysterical, you’re worried he’ll pass out from not breathing enough. “m’coward. a fucking coward. i should’ve known you were behind m-me… i failed to keep you sa-afe, you got hurt because of me.. and m’so sorry.. pl-ease don’t leave me.. please don’t-” those were the words that woke you up. you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. leave him? and you refused to hear more of it.

you walked backwards to sit on the bed, benny hands slid to hold your lower back before sliding even lower to hold the thick of your thighs. to ground himself. you held his face to make him look at you. to see you.

“honey.. none of this was your fault” his sniffles and gasps were making it harder for you to speak. “i don’t blame you or anyone else for what happened, but especially not you. i’m alright” your right hand moved up to his frazzled hair, brushing the strands of hair away from his face. you prayed it would help him calm down. “and m’gonna be alright, look,” you grabbed his tattered hands from your hips and placed one on your heart, and the other on your swollen cheek. you can see his shoulders fall slowly as he focuses on your heartbeat. “my heart is still pulsing, my chest is still rising and falling, and my soul is still beaming” you scooched closer to him, your left leg placed on top of his right.

“look at me honey,” your syrupy voice rang in his ears as he looked into your eyes again. his eyelashes were dewy from how much he cried that you almost lost all the words in your mouth, but you told him one more thing. “i will never leave you. no matter how crazy our lives get, or how crazy things change, i will never run. i will never let you go. this isn’t where we end” benny inhales and exhales deeply before responding to your words of reassurance, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “i’ll never leave you b-aby..i’m never gonna go, never. i promise baby i-i promise” “c’mere” with that you brought your boy over to you, his head fitting into the crook of your neck.

you let him cry, but also let yourself get teary eyed. “you and me sweet boy. s’gonna be okay” you were stroking the hair on the back of his head as his arms held you closer than ever. you in your pink pajamas and him in his colors. that is what’s meant to be. and always will be.

“we’ll be alright”

#oh this ones got a kick to it #feeling sick #i LOVEE miserable men #im an angst SLUTT #austin butler #austin butler x reader #benny cross #benny cross x reader #tom hardy #johnny from the bikeriders #jodie comer #kathy cross #the bikeriders #the bikeriders x reader

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moonstruckme · 3 months ago

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tumblr is hiding the request from me :( but here it is, thanks for requesting!

request: Would you be willing to write about(if you havnt already) Remus X a chronic pain having reader(joint pain kinda similar to his but like all over, maybe reader also has to use a cane from time to time) that's SUPER stubborn about their pain and HATES admitting there's anything wrong with them so they don't take pain killers or use their cane unless forced to.

cw: chronic pain, pain meds

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

You can’t get lost in your book. The words won’t pull you out of your body the way you need them to, so you’re watching raindrops race down the window instead. You bet on which one will win, sometimes changing your pick halfway through—because, really, you’re the one making the rules anyway—and then starting again from the top of the glass once the last round’s droplets puddle into the sill.

You’re not sure who’s more miserable lately; you, or the sky. It’s been dull gray and weeping all week, clouds barely moving on cold winds. As if the weather isn’t making you ache enough, you slipped on the wet stairs outside your apartment yesterday and now have a nice, big bruise on your hip to boot. Remus keeps looking at the tinge of it peeking out of your trousers with a pitying little uptilt to his brows that makes you antsy.

Remus groans as he shifts from his curled-up position next to you on the couch. He stretches his leg out, propping his ankle on the coffee table. You wince. You know he’s feeling this weather as badly as you are in his knees.

“Alright?” you ask gently.

He makes a low sound, halfway between a hum and a grunt. “I’ll live.”

Remus turns his head your way, and you pretend to read your book again as you feel him scan you over. You try not to look too stiff in your own skin. To ease the grimace from your mouth.

“How about you?” he asks.

“Fine.”

“Sure, dovey?”

You know the endearment is meant to soften you. You look him right in the eyes. “Yeah.”

He hums, holding your gaze. There’s sympathy in the warm honey brown of his eyes, the sort you can never decide whether to spurn or cling to, as well as a stubbornness to match your own. After a moment, he takes his foot off the table.

“I’ve changed my mind,” he says, standing. “I’m getting painkillers.”

You stand, too, fighting past the protests of your joints. “I’ll go.”

“I’ve got it.”

“Remus, you’re in pain.”

You know you’re pushing it—the limits of this lie, that you’re not in just as much if not more pain than he is—and it appears Remus knows it too. Rather than saying it, he only levels you with a look. You sit down.

Remus doesn’t have to bring the bottle of pain medication back with him after taking his own dose, but he does. He sets it right on the coffee table next to a tub of numbing cream, which he opens before rolling up the leg of his trousers. One at a time, he massages it into his sore knees.

You pretend to yourself that your own joints don’t feel any worse for thinking of what relief might be like. The words on your page blur past your eyes.

“Give me your hand, lovely.”

You look at Remus. He’s finished with his knees, but now he holds his hand out for you, a dollop of cream on his fingers. “Hm?”

Your boyfriend sighs, exasperation coated in fondness. “Don’t. You’re hurting.”

“I’m fine.”

“I can see it in your face.”

You feel yourself frown. “It’s not that bad.”

“What will it hurt?” His voice gentles. He keeps looking at you, until finally, you extend your hand.

You know Remus knows how to be gentle with you. He’s good at helping without hurting, touch soothing over your skin and working the cream into every aching crevice. You hold in a sigh.

“Sometimes,” Remus says in a thoughtful voice, “I catch myself dismissing my pain. And then I look at you, and I think how silly that is.”

You take the opportunity to watch him while he’s not watching you. He looks peaceful. The furrow between his brows has shallowed, now borne of concentration rather than affliction or worry as he smooths his healing touch over your wrist and works his way up to your elbow.

“I never want you to just put up with your pain. I don’t know why I do. But thinking about you doing the same thing helps me snap out of it, so,” Remus glances up at you, a tiny smile tugging at his lips, “thank you for that.”

“Are you saying I’m silly?” You mean to tease, but your voice comes out infused with the sigh you’d held back. You sound tender and lovestruck; more vulnerable than you intended to be.

“You’re silly when you won’t take care of yourself,” Remus answers unapologetically. “Even sillier when you won’t let me take care of you.”

“It’s not your job,” you say quietly.

He frowns. His thumb rubs softly over the tender jut of your elbow. “It’s both of our job.”

“Thank you, but I don’t feel like I need the help. I manage it fine by myself.”

“Sweetheart.” Remus looks at you. You’re caught like a fly in his honey trap. “It doesn’t make the pain any more or less real to treat it. You’re only helping it hurt you. It’s not a bad thing to take painkillers when you need them. Or to use your cane.”

You stiffen at the introduction of a familiar argument. “I don’t need to use it.”

“I know, lovely. You might not have had your fall yesterday if you had been, though.”

Your hackles must be visibly raised, because Remus only looks at your face before softening his tone further, dropping a kiss on your shoulder.

“I only wish you’d let us both look after you a bit better. And I hate to see you hurt.” His touch skims over that sliver of bruise showing above your trousers. “My poor girl.”

You soften. Maybe it’s the tenderness of his touch, or the quiet ache in his voice, but you find yourself leaning over until your head rests on Remus’ shoulder. He continues massaging cream into your joints, diligent and loving.

“It’s gotta go both ways,” you say, like you’re negotiating an agreement.

“Of course it will.”

“You can’t just always be right. You have to listen when I tell you you’re being an idiot, too.”

You hear more than see his smile. “But I so rarely am.”

“Trust me,” you mumble, “it happens.”

Remus chuckles and kisses your head. “Okay, dove. I’ll listen to you.”

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mockerycrow · 2 years ago

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okay, so something unsettling. with ghost x gn! reader. “don’t worry, it’s not my blood”. maybe you are ghost’s civilian friend in an abusive relationship and one day it reaches a point when you’re so scared you lock yourself in the bathroom while your s/o is raging outside the door, banging on it and threatening you. you manage to call simon and ask him to come get you. the result is, well, blood that is not his. 👁️👁️

- 🐇

JUSTICE (Ghost x GN!Reader) — 4K CELEBRATION

[WARNINGS; HUGE warning for abuse and reactions to abuse (I had to take a break writing a part of this), murder, blood + gore + injury, major hurt/comfort, can be read as platonic or romantic.]

BEING ON LEAVE means Simon needs to restock his fridge and cabinets with enough food for a couple of days. Leaning against the bar of the shopping cart as he turns over the box of tea in his hands. He grumbles since he’s having to buy a new brand of his favorite tea, figuring out that his favorite company discontinued that line. Simon lets out a huff of defeat before tossing the box into the cart and he begins to roll his cart to the self check-out.

Simon bags his items up into his reusable bags and hauls them out to his car, putting a bag down to dig around for his keys. He finds them and unlocks the back, putting his bags in—and then his phone begins to ring. His eyebrows furrow a bit as he takes his cell phone out of his pocket, his eyebrows raising as he shuts the back. Simon swipes at his screen, accepting the call and pressing the phone to his ear as he gets into the driver's seat of his vehicle. “Hello?” Simon asks into the phone, a bit confused on why you’re calling him.

His heart nearly drops to his stomach when he hears you sob into the receiver, a muffled static banging in the background and some unintelligible yelling. “Simon—“ Your tone is laced with intense fear and alertness, and he can immediately tell you’re in a state of a need to survive. He calls your name, not even bothering to buckle up, starting his car.

Simon calls your name more insistently, his tone bordering on panic. “What’s goin’ on, love??” His heart begins to pound as you sob a near incoherent “go away” to whoever is making you act like this. “Hey, hey hey—focus, sweetheart, what’s happening?” Simon insists, pulling out of the parking lot, already decidedly going to your place of residence.

You shudder and sob into the phone and clear your throat. “Please, Simon, pleaseplease hElp me, he’s—“ You let out a heartbreaking sob that makes Simon’s chest ache, his knuckles turning white as he grips the steering wheel harder. “Derek, he’s fuckin’—he’s trying to—“ You’re barely able to push the words out, and fuck, Simon is so glad you’re not too far from the store he was just at.

“He’s tryin’ t’hurt you, love?” Simon asks—it’s so obvious your partner is, but he needs to double check; have you confirm it. “Yes—he’s trying to break dOwn the door—leave me alONE—!” You scream, piercing his ear through the phone. Simon lets out a huff, his heart pounding against his rib cage. “I’m on my way, alright? I’m nearly there, I won’t let ‘im hurt ya, love.”

Simon is definitely going over the speed limit, weaving through traffic and his tires screeching in protest at his movements. You choke and cough, letting out a terrified weeping noise, barely able to breathe. A painful itch blooms underneath his skin, the sensation burning and bubbling, bursting at the seams. Simon was not allowed anyone’s blood to spill except his. Derek’s.

“Breathe, alright? I’m on your street—do ya have anythin’ in the restroom to protect yourself with?” Simon asks, hearing you whimper as the muffled sounds of Derek’s maniacal screaming and pounding is apparent. “C’mon, sweetheart. I know you’re scared, I know, but you’ve got to stay with me.” Simon insists, and you make a timid “mhm” noise. There’s a shuffling sound, and he’s assuming you’re looking through your cabinets. Simon soon rolls up to your home, and he barely puts the car in park, not even bothering to turn the vehicle off.

“I’m here, darlin’. I’m here. Stay as far away from the door as possible.” And with that, he hangs up. You stutter out his name in fear, but you quickly hear your partner—soon to be ex—Derek redirects his anger from you to Simon, who you hear bellow out Derek’s name. Something about Simon’s tone is.. eerie. Something about how Derek begins to yell and gasp and fucking scream is satisfying.

You cover your ears, curled up in the corner of your bathroom, heaving and sobbing as your head is swimming. You’re dizzy from the lack of sufficient air entering your lungs. You aren’t sure how much time passes, but when you hear a gentle, muffled knock, you hold your breath. Simon calls your name from behind the door, causing you to scramble to your feet.

You sob softly and shakily unlock the door and you freeze at the sight of him—there’s blood splattered across his face, dripping down his neck, caking his hair and his clothes. You nearly scream but Simon quickly holds his hands up, his tone gentle. “Don’t worry, it’s not my blood. I’m alright, love.” The relief that floods you is crashing like waves, just like how you collapse into his arms.

Simon cringes just a bit, Derek’s blood smearing against you and staining your clothes, but your desperate sobs and grabby hands make him forget about the mess. Simon quickly wraps his arms around you and leads you deeper into the bathroom, making sure you don’t see the mangled and unrecognizable body of your ex-boyfriend laying in the hallway, in a puddle of his own blood, organs, and excrement.

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i23kazu · 2 years ago

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THEY WON'T STOP CALLING ME PAPA

characters. neuvillette x gn!reader genre. domestic romantic fluff. an. MORE melusine daddy content. please send help | please reblog!! im getting back into writing and reblogs with tags and comments will make me want to write more :D

the first time the melusines meet neuvillette, they're all overly formal.

"monsieur neuvillette! monsieur neuvillette!" "how may i assist you?"

over time, as the bond between the sweet melusines and neuvillette became stronger, neuvillette started helping the melusines more! they got more casual and it went from monsieur neuvillette, to neuvillette, to sir, and, well... to papa.

needless to say, neuvillette was taken aback. yes! it was adorably cute! so, so cute – that the innermost part of him wanted to squish the little melusine's cheeks.

it took him a while to get used to the melusine's addressing him with a parental title, though. after all.. they looked nothing like him. like funky little adopted alien children.

when he does get used to it, though – the melusines are so happy, they want to weep and cry of joy!

iara, a younger melusine, had run into trouble with treasure hoarders. the little girl was in tears, holding her bundles of bread – when a big strong man came to save her! blades of water whooshed around her, cocooning her in its arms, and gently setting her back down on the ground.

it was papa! papa was there to fight the bad guys for her, and all she could do was stand and watch in awe as neuvillette swiftly took down the bad guys, sending them scrambling in the direction they came.

"it's alright... papa's here. you're safe now, mon rayon de soleil." neuvillette picks her up, bread and all. iara settles down into papa's arms, her little heart bursting with joy when she hears him address himself with that.

when you first started dating neuvillette, the melusines addressed you by mama / papa / baba ( depending on your preference! )

at first you were confused. they were definitely not your children. you meant, you wouldn't mind, but you had known them for basically less than half a day and they were already forming parental attachments ??

but you didn't mind it after all, and even started rolling with it. guess you're now the parent of 300 melusines. congrats! achievement: first-time parent unlocked.

reblogs w/ tags & comments appreciated !!!

taglist: @tiredsleep @loptido @raincxtter @chichikoi @ladyadii @soulsanta @sheiiths @genshinparty @eowinthetraveler @moonbyunniee @legitnoi @lemontum @manager-of-the-pudding-bank @starz222 @ilyuu @cherry-colored-petals @mondaymelon @tartaglia-apologist @soleillunne @softcosmixs @m1shapanda @aimynx @smokipoki (send ask to be added to taglist)

#[📝 stewardess' notepad!]#astronetwrk #genshin x reader #neuvillette x reader #genshin x gn reader #genshin impact x gn reader #genshin impact x reader #neuvillette x gn reader #genshin fluff #neuvillette fluff #genshin x reader sfw #neuvillette x reader sfw #melusines #genshin melusines #dad!neuvillette #found family

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prettyflyshyguy · 4 days ago

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Alright you little shits, you know how it goes. Liveblogging watching Murderbot.

I just slammed the pause button because I heard the first two secconds of the opening scene song, instantly recognised it and got extreemly excited. I know I'm gonna be in for a good time.

Anyway, more under the cut as usual.

Ok I'm not going into this completely blind, but I'm going to try and write this all up with what my first thoughts were as I started seeing clips from this show.

Firstly. The design utterly slaps. It's a great classic sci-fi armored humanoid but there's something deeply unsettling about the helmet itself and the way it's half ringed with one eye hole but it's more off centre its just. Weird. but in a very good way.

the intro sequence IS SO CUTE after severence I'm so excited to see more shows exploring stylistic and thoughtfully animated intro segments, this is so fun, the bit where it's surrounded and then it just fucking nope's out like fuuuuuuuuck that I dont wanna connect with people. I'm dead.

Oh my godddd the COLOURS this show knows how to use colours I am delighted

mmmmmmmmmmmgurathingetinheremmmmmmmmtherewego

this is fucking funny this show is fucking funny hey

Me going bonkers over the colour and aeshetics and the set design like

finally. some good fucking food.

This is tickling me the same way that the Alien franchise does. Like they've gone with a very distinct visual language with the world and I adore it immediately.

THE FIRST HARD JUMPCUT BETWEEN SANCTUARY MOON AND THE SCIENTISTS EXAMINING ROCKS FUCKING KILLED ME

the way it's voice changes from it's normal accent/intonation when it says "stay calm, it'll be ok, you have my word" BITCH i swear to god

love love love love LOVE the camera work on this show when they get funky with their shots

screaming every time its face does this holy shit give this guy an oscar

THE PERFORMANCE EFFICIENCY % GOING DOWN I'M FUCKING CRYING

"SPEECH" or acid bath I CAN'T FUCKING HANDLE THIS HAHAHAHA YOU WERE RIGHT THIS SHOW'S REALLY FUCKING FUNNY

Is this O'Byrnes brother like Hello. I like Gurathin. I like him a lot.

"I need to check the permimeter" IT'S VOICE GBRTAGUILRTHASNI

Ok. Ok. Alright. OK. I get it. It's good. It's pretty good. Onto episode 2.

Ok first of all. Losing it at all the different nicknames for Gurathin. Love that these people all are weird and quirky and so so so human but they all feel so real and fun even once the veneer of satire is peeled back. They really do feel like they're a group with history and that they all know each other well and really care about each other. Reminds me of how I felt at one of my old workplaces. Very real.

BUT MORE IMPORTANTLY -- what's the reason that Gurathin doesnt trust the company *eyes emoji* don't actually tell me, I'm sure it'll get explained later, but OOOOO THAT'S AN IMPORTANT PLOT POINT THAT I'M VERY INTERESTED IN

I've already seen this scene before but holy shit it's so much better with the full context

SecUnit can try as much as it might to pretend it doesn't give a shit about these people but there was a tone to that "I am a necessary precaution. Moron."

I love it.

OK HOLD UP. The way Gurathin asks "whats it like to be you?" THERE'S WEIGHT BEHIND THAT. THERE'S SOMETHING THERE. Gurathin went from being completely nervous and shit scared of this thing, insisting everyone else stay away from it, to personally inviting it, ALONE, to have a funny little chat and it really sounds like he's getting vulnerable with it.

Was he augmented without his consent?

This show has no right to have a robot be this fucking funny and relatable

the fucking lip twitch and curl as it says "sex. with humans." I'm weeping

ok back to the serious shit: Gurathin. What's the deal dude. I'm deeply intrigued. Like ok, if this thing is rogue, malfunctioning, whatever, it's got me wondering whats the point in talking to it? Like Gurathin's going for the subtext here, the insistent tone on

"It would be extremely dangerous for everyone involved-"

"Including the SecUnit!"

like if its going to kill you, its going to kill you. I guess he's trying to appeal to a potential internal sense of self preservation? Like don't fuck this up for yourself by messing us up? But it's also weird because he's toying with the sense of what the SecUnit is required to do. It doesnt have to do anything but it choses to comply with orders to avoid being detected as rogue.

I'm fucking dying over here I can't believe SecUnit just hit Gurathin with psychological warfare and it's all like "fuck yeah this guy won't bother me anymore" meanwhile Gurathin's probably like "jesus christ the robots a fucking pervert"

anyway -- I'm really interested in Gurathin's character. There's so much more under the surface there.

Lets switch subjects for a sec. Mensah's panic attacks. This is so dumb but I'm really glad she's stubborn. She's fighting something alone that's incredibly debilitating but she's just burying it and my god if that ain't so real and so relatable. I really like Mensah. I like the entire cast. I feel like each time they get a spotlight I'm going to say this.

OH YEAH BABEY YEAH YEAH YEAH ONCE AGAIN POPPING OFF WITH THE USE OF COLOUR I LOVE IT GOOD FUCKING FOOD

Ok quick note - at the very end of E2 the gang is huddled around a computer trying to ping the other station and Gura is the only one not in close proximity with the group. He's got closer ties to Mensah but he's still clearly pulled in with the gang (the humming huddle and dancing scene in E1) but he self isolates. This is clearly a parrallel to SecUnit as they have a lot in common (SecUnit would deny this of course but we see it) - with the obvious overlap being that they're both to a degree cyborgs. One's just a construct and the other's a modified person.

hahahahahaha HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

YOUR POSTURE

The prevalance of the mental impact of traumatic experiences in this show is catching me off guard. It's nice seeing it expressed so bluntly and so widely amongst the cast. In more front facing ways, we've got SecUnit's comments on Bharadwaj not healing mentally, and then when Gura approaches her his comments on that its an Old Habit, being quiet. Thanks I'm chewing on this.

>Gurathin smelling Mensah's 'pheromones'

No one in this crew is safe from having deep running unresolved issues (both personal AND interpersonal) and I LOVE IT

"I need to check the--munitions."

DEAD. I'M DEAD. I CAN'T TAKE THIS.

"They're amazing on Bloodjust Killjoy!"

"Thanks Ratthi!"

"I didn't know you played that."

"... I don't."

CACKLING. I'M CACKLING. The degree of problems bubbling under the surface in this crew is fantastic. Using a deeply troubled and unhealthy robot to foil a deeply troubled and unhealthy gaggle of humans is ingenious.

EPISODE 4 GIVE IT UP FOR EPISODE 4

GOOD OPENING

thank you Murderbot for expressing something that I often feel I cannot: I also don't think babies are cute.

STOP IT STOP IT STOP I WASN'T READY FOR THIS GAG HOLY SHIT WHO WROTE THIS THIS IS SO FUCKING FUNNY

gamers I think this might be my favourite episode so far

hglargo;rtjgoal;stjhnio;wrtjhniprhjtopa'rhjp'isrtjhnps'ihtjsi

I'm going fucking bonkers chat episode 4 was insane

WHAT DO YOU MEAN I HAVE TO WAIT UNTILL FRIDAY FOR THE NEXT ONE

the last serialised show I watched was fucking doctor who!

anyway. Holy shit. I love this show. Holy fuck. Holy shit. Oh my god.

#back at it again with the liveblogging #read at your peril or w/e #PLEASE DON'T SPOIL #IT FOR ME #ANYTIME I ASK A QUESTION IT'S PURELY RHETORICAL #I'M HAVING A GOOD TIME GETTING EXCITED #shy talks #not art #Murderbot 2025 #murderbot

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cultkinkcoven · 25 days ago

Text

okay so I guess I’m back to losing my fucking mind.

Did that ritual with Lucifer yesterday, offered him some blood and a chocolate apple. He expressed that he wanted me to put all my sigils in one place so I got this case for him, he really liked it. I wrote him a little letter and all that.

At some point I expressed to him that I was somewhat disappointed that he seemed less willing to engage with me seriously when I was trying to practice automatic writing on the type writer. and he said something like "well, you didn't really have anything to ask me."

So I tried approaching him with a real question, the answer to which I do not know. The one thing that has been agitating me lately is whatever occurred during our last meeting, with that lady spirit. He provided a very brief explanation at the time, but I still had questions. What happened there? It seemed really random and strange.

And he was like alright, I will give it a serious attempt. This was after we'd already spent some time together, cleared our space, meditated. But I still took quite a while to lock into some sort of trance state that would allow me to simultaneously take control out of my body whilst also not paralyzing myself. Idk if that makes sense but if you know you know. And after what might have been a whole hour or two, maybe an hour and a half, I felt his energy creeping up on me. In my mind's eye I saw a snake entering my room through my window (funny because I'm on the 4th floor). It was very dark in the room, the only light was his candle. I could not see what was being written entirely, although I could still somewhat see the keys, and I knew their position through muscle memory, so there is that.

But when that snake slithered around my abdomen and coiled around my body, my left hand, my non dominant hand, which happened to be wearing his ring at the time, rose. The snake coiled around it, and I watched in that silent trace state, where you can see yourself moving, but you are observing it in second person. It actually kind of tickles in a weird way. At first my hand did not type at all. I felt his whisper dance over me and my hand stroked my thighs and stomach. After about maybe 20 minutes of that, a good while, my hand crept over to the typewriter and began to type quickly. Slower than before, but quickly. I don't really know how to explain this but I really liked doing that. It's a very silent unspoken form of communication, I feel him move me and I obey, I have to respond quickly and be completely submissive to his will. It's... nice.

I was trying to track what I thought he was saying based on the keys being clicked, but I lost him at parts. I fully and completely expected this to come out really crude, perhaps gibberish. When I tried to predict the next key I would hit, I was wrong. The sentence would trail on in a way or use a word I didn't expect. A sentence would end when I was sure there was going to be another word.

When I hit the end of the paper I wanted to take a second to read it, but he didn't want to let me. I took a bit more control back, gained a bit more lucidity, and fed the back half of the paper back in without reading it. I was quite sure that I had wasted a sheet of paper at this point. The writing got a lot faster near the end. I was having a hard time keeping up and I was quite sure whatever this was would be very difficult to decipher, if it had any meaning at all.

When the note was finished, he did not pull away from me entirely. I was so eager to read it, but he made me lay with him for a bit before I got up. Sexy stuff, skip.

When I eventually did get up and read it in its entirety, I was like on the verge of freaking out. It's less so what he said (although that is also making me weep because wtf) and more so how legible and clear it is that bewildered me. There are a few mistakes, but I know they are mine. They occurred when I either couldn't properly respond to his command or fumbled in surprise at an unexpected move. Its legibility immediately made me doubt myself. I'm bullshiting myself right now. I could still somewhat see the keys, I still had a vague idea of what might have been said. Does this count? Surely this doesn't count.

I read this thing like 500 times. and I just

idek

It sounds like him at least. But there's also a lot of me in there, surely.

So I was like, I need to do this completely blank. And I gave him full permission to take me deeper into trance. I turned off all the lights including his altar lights. I closed my eyes, I sat for about another hour maybe until I was completely immersed in him, submitted to him. Until I was almost not even aware if I was typing or not.

and I'm not even entirely sure what I really asked him. It was something about myself, something about feeling crazy, or him driving me crazy. He only moved my left hand, again, and he only used one finger, my middle finger (which my ring was on) this time. And he typed quickly. And I genuinely had no clue which keys my finger was hitting. And I was like oh yeah, okay. Gibberish. I let it happen completely. I don't really care what it says at this point.

and he started to speed up again near the end, and the pain in my hand was bringing me back into lucidity. and I could feel his energy above me, almost mounting me. And he was telling me to stop. It wasn't forceful, it was playful. Enough work now, lets play now. Lay down, lay back. And I started kind of laughing because my hand was moving so erratically. He pulled me back, I felt it with a force, and I laid back on my pillow. Something something, sexy stuff. skip.

I ended up actually passing out after. and I didn't read this one until later. I didn't really care because I thought it would just be nonsense again, I thought he was trying to prove a point or tease me.

So when I did eventually read it, ngl babes I cried.

It is definitely less legible but I'm pretty sure I understand what he meant to say. The parts that are really garbled are the parts where he started to speed up, and looking back on it, this letter perfectly aligns with what I was doing and thinking at the time. idk. I'm kind of spiraling.

EDIT: COMPLETELY FORGOT TO MENTIONIT WAS STORMING LIKE A MF WHEN INWAS DOING THIS. Which added to the atmosphere but also made everything so much more intense. Wind howling, thunder, everything. Wild.

IM just a boy with a type writer fr.

#pagan #lucifer devotee #lucifer deity #theistic luciferianism #demonolatry #deity work #lord lucifer #divination

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grandlinedreams · 2 years ago

Note

hi i literally love all of ur posts u nail all of the characters its crazy.

one of my favorite tropes is hidding an injury and getting the classic “who did this to you.”

if ur still taking requests and are in an angsty mood would u plzzz write this with zoro?

Hhjg I try, thank-you!! But also mood it's just so GOOD and I hope that I can do this justice for you!!

[Heads up!: mentions of canon typical violence, blood/mention of an infected wound, angst]

Staring down at the gash in your side, you bite back a hiss as you prod at it, the weep of milky fluid from it. The split skin is puffy and an angry red, heat eminating from it ㅡ it doesn't take a genius to know that it doesn't look good.

Normally you'd have the little handful of supplies from Chopper, tucked away in your backpack ㅡ but it's gone, along with everything else beyond your weapon.

At least you're not wandering around by yourself, though. As if on cue, there's the sound of footsteps behind you, and you drop your shirt back over the poorly bandaged wound.

"What are you doing over here?"

"Just fine," you answer as you turn towards Zoro. "I wanted to see if we could reach a clearing and get a good read on where we are."

"Fair enough." Zoro studies you for a minute, and you worry that he's going to know about the wound on your side ㅡ the one you'd casually "forgotten" to mention to him. "So which way should we be heading?"

"West," you answer, glancing up at the sky. The sun has begun its slow arc of descent, and you sigh. "We need to hurry, or we'll end up needing to camp for the night."

"Right." You turn to watch Zoro go, feeling the irritated twitch of a muscle in your jaw.

"Zoro. That's east."

ㅡ

By the time the sun has set, it's clear that something is wrong.

There's a fine layer of cold sweat on your face that you scrub at, trying to ignore the heaviness of your limbs and throbbing ache of your side. "We should stop for the night," you hear yourself say, "it's useless to try and navigate after dark."

Zoro grunts his agreement and turns to look at you, brow furrowing. "Are you sure you're alright?"

You want to answer him, you really do. But your ears are ringing, mouth full of cotton when you try to answer. Dark spots dance around the edges of your vision, and you're distantly aware of Zoro's noise of alarm when your legs finally give out.

"'m fine," you finally manage before the dark spots expand, sinking you down into the silent black of unconsciousness.

ㅡ

You wake to the awkward bulk of a backpack under your head and the smell of woodsmoke. Sitting up, you blink when a damp cloth drops from your forehead into your lap.

"Finally awake?" Sitting nearby, Zoro prods at the fire with a long stick before he turns towards you. "You have a fever."

Your hand slides to your side, feeling the stiff press of bandages underneath, the answering throb of the gash beneath.

"Took care of that too." Zoro's gaze is sharp. "I'm not Chopper, but it'll do for now. Mind explaining who did that and why you didn't bother telling me?"

It's clear he's far from amused, and you look away, feeling guilty. "Happened when we all got separated," you say, "and I didn't think it was going to be that much of an issue."

Zoro wants to scold you, but he knows he'd be a hypocrite if he did given the amount of times he's blatantly ignored his injuries. Instead he sighs, watching the logs crackle for a moment. "Hope you killed the guy who did it."

"Of course I did," you answer with a hint of pride, and Zoro smirks.

"Good."

ㅡ

"I think this is a little excessive, Zoro."

"You still have a fever," Zoro says as he adjusts his grip on your legs, "and we won't get anywhere if you collapse on me again." He feels you tense, and he frowns. "How are you feeling, anyways? And don't lie."

"A little better." You rest your forehead against his shoulder, and though he won't admit it out loud, the fact he can feel warmth radiating from your skin worries him. "I'm sorry about this."

"Still should have told me," he says, though his tone is softer, his grip tightening on your legs. "Idiot. We're crewmates, aren't we? We're supposed to trust each other."

"I do trust you."

"Then act like it." He stares ahead, footsteps steady. "Don't go getting hurt and then hiding anymore, you hear me?"

"I hear you." You pause. "Zoro?" He grunts in answer, and you exhale softly. "Thank-you."

Zoro tells himself that his heart doesn't pick up a little bit at how soft your voice is, the cling of your body against his. And that he definitely isn't blushing, just a little. "Yeah, yeah. Can't have you die on me and leave me to deal with that stupid cook all on my own."

#ㅡmine.#one piece x reader #one piece scenario #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x reader #ㅡanswered.#anonymous

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yo-ri-su-ki · 28 days ago

Note

Hello! I have a funny cute and funny request. Dante and the reader are playing a card game, and whoever loses the card game has to do whatever the winner chooses. Well, Dante loses, and now he has to do something funny.

High Stakes And Hijinks

An: I HAD THE BEST TIME WRITING THIS OMFG IT MADE ME LAUGH

It had started innocently enough.

You and Dante were sprawled out on the floor of Devil May Cry, an open bag of chips between you, a deck of very questionable-looking playing cards in your hands, and the TV blaring in the background. Rain pattered softly against the windows, trapping the two of you indoors with nothing but your collective boredom and Dante’s cocky grin.

“So,” you said, narrowing your eyes at him over your hand of cards. “Whoever loses this next round has to do whatever the winner says.”

He smirked, utterly confident. “Whatever you say, sweetheart. Just don’t cry when I win.”

You grinned like a gremlin. “Oh, I won’t.”

A few minutes later…

“…Is that a straight flush?” Dante’s smile froze.

You laid down your cards with the flair of a magician revealing their final trick. “Read it and weep, demon boy.”

“No way. No way!” He flopped backward in defeat, hands over his face. “This is rigged. You’ve got psychic powers or something.”

“Or maybe,” you said smugly, leaning over him, “you’re just bad at cards.”

“I’m good at plenty of things,” he grumbled.

“Well then, good sir, it’s time to test your talents.”

Ten Minutes Later…

Dante Sparda the infamous devil hunter, half-demon powerhouse, ladies’ man extraordinaire

stood in the middle of the street wearing a bright pink tutu, matching leg warmers, and a glittery plastic tiara that sat slightly crooked on his head.

He struck a pose as a passing elderly woman blinked at him in confusion.

“Who’s your fairy demon daddy?” he said with a wink.

You were crying from laughter across the street, doubled over with your phone held high. “Oh my god. I can’t believe you actually did it!”

“I lost fair and square,” he said with a dramatic sigh. “A man’s got to own up to his failures. Even if that means becoming Princess Dante of the Glitter Realm.”

“You're making a scene!”

“Exactly what you ordered, wasn’t it?” He wiggled his hips for emphasis. “I don’t do half-measures, babe.”

A small child walked up to him, holding a juice box. “Are you a ballerina?”

“Only on Tuesdays,” Dante said, patting the tiara. “Stay in school, kid.”

You wheezed. “This is going on the agency’s bulletin board.”

“I swear to Sparda, if Lady sees this…”

You grinned evilly. “She’s getting a framed copy.”

Dante sighed in defeat but couldn’t help laughing when he looked at you, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling with mirth.

“Alright, alright,” he said, stepping back toward you and taking your hand dramatically. “Next time, I’m picking the dare. And you’re not getting off with just a tutu.”

You raised a brow. “Is that a threat or a promise?”

Dante winked. “Depends how good you are at cards next time.”

You hadn’t stopped laughing since Dante spun in a full pirouette for a group of confused tourists. But now, safely back inside the Devil May Cry office and with the tutu mercifully retired, Dante was plotting.

Literally.

He sat at the table with narrowed eyes, cards fanned out in his hands like he was some kind of blackjack war general.

“This time,” he muttered, “the devil gets his due.”

“You said that last time,” you said smugly, sipping your drink. “And I got a new lockscreen photo of you pretending to be a magical girl.”

“Magical Man, thank you.”

You chuckled and reshuffled the deck. “Alright, rematch. Same rules: loser does what the winner says.”

He cracked his neck. “Prepare to serve, human.”

Ten Minutes Later…

“NO!” Dante howled, slamming his cards on the table. “YOU HAD FOUR ACES?!”

You beamed. “Aces beat your two sad little kings, Dante. You know what that means.”

He groaned. “Okay, okay, what humiliating nonsense am I doing this time?”

You grinned like a villain in a Saturday morning cartoon. “You’re going to do… a dramatic soap opera monologue. In Vergil’s coat.”

He stared at you. “…You are one cruel woman.”

“Do it. Or I’m making you wear the tutu again. With fishnets.”

Five minutes later, Dante was standing on top of the couch, Vergil’s blue coat draped over his shoulders, looking like an absolute disaster. He threw one hand over his heart and began.

“Why, Maria?” he cried in the most theatrical voice you’d ever heard. “Why did you leave me for the pizza delivery guy?! I gave you my demon heart, and you shredded it like expired parmesan!”

You clutched your sides, tears of laughter streaming down your face. He stomped around like he was on a stage, gesturing wildly.

“My soul burns brighter than my twin’s judgmental eyebrows! And yet... AND YET!! you chose… STEVE!”

He collapsed dramatically onto the couch, one leg kicked over the backrest like a dying swan.

You applauded. “Bravo. A performance worthy of an Oscar. Or at least a Razzie.”

He peeked up at you with a lazy grin. “Next time, I win.”

“We’ll see, Mr. Drama Queen.”

He rolled over, grabbing the deck again. “One more round. This time, loser has to sing karaoke in a demon bar.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You’re on.”

He smirked. “Hope you’ve been practicing your Britney Spears.”

Location: A VERY shady demon bar, somewhere in the Underworld.

The place was dim, full of growling patrons, flickering neon signs, and questionable drinks bubbling in mugs that probably bit back. You had no idea why the microphone was shaped like a severed hand—but Dante insisted it was “part of the vibe.”

And now here you were, standing on the tiny stage, a spotlight glaring down on you, while Dante lounged at the bar sipping something glowing blue.

Because you lost.

By one card. One!

Dante waved at you from his barstool, the smuggest grin plastered across his face. “Break a leg, superstar! Or, y’know, get one chewed off.”

You shot him a death glare as the first notes of “Toxic” by Britney Spears crackled from the old speaker system. The demons in the bar turned to look, eyes glowing.

You took a deep breath. If you were going down, you were going down with style.

Two minutes later…

"WITH A TASTE OF YOUR LIPS IM ALL IN A RIDEEEE YOUR TOXIC IM SLIPPING UNDERR"

You were owning it.

"IM ADDICTED TO YOU DON'T YOU KNOW THAT YOUR TOXIIIICC?!"

You spun. You twirled. You even did the hair flip. Demons howled (possibly in support—maybe in pain, unclear). One huge, fanged creature started waving its claws in the air like a glowstick.

Dante choked on his drink, wheezing with laughter.

“My god,” he gasped, slapping the counter. “You’re actually killing it!”

You sang straight into the severed-hand mic, flipping him off mid-chorus without missing a beat. The bar roared.

By the end, a small crowd of demons was clapping, and someone even threw what looked like a… spine? You didn’t question it.

You descended from the stage dramatically and strutted back over to Dante.

“Well?” you asked, breathless.

He clapped, laughing so hard he wiped tears from his eyes. “That was the most unhinged, glorious thing I’ve ever seen. I think you just started a cult.”

The bartender, a leathery imp with a bowtie, handed you a coupon. “One free drink, Princess of Pop.”

You blinked. “…Did I just get promoted?”

Dante leaned in with a lopsided grin. “Looks like someone’s a hit in hell. Who knew?”

You smirked, poking him in the chest. “Your turn next round. And I’m picking Backstreet Boys.”

He paled. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, I would.”

You never thought you’d see the day.

Dante Sparda, son of Sparda, devil hunter, resident bad boy of Red Grave City… standing on stage in front of a crowd of bloodthirsty demons, clutching the severed-hand mic like it was the last slice of pizza, as the opening beat of “Everybody (Backstreets back)” echoed through the Underworld’s crusty old speakers.

You were crying laughing before he even opened his mouth.

“Oh my god, we’re back again…” Dante sang in a half-growl, striking a pose so dramatically awful it circled back into amazing.

The crowd paused.

And then LOST IT.

Demons screamed in excitement. One tried to crowd surf and fell flat. A spider demon threw its top hat on stage. The bartender rang a tiny bell and yelled, “GET IT, WHITE HAIRED KING!”

You nearly fell out of your chair.

Dante leaned into it hard. He hip-thrusted. He moonwalked (badly). He did finger guns during the “Am I sexual?” line and winked at a three-headed werewolf.

He pointed directly at you when he belted, “Backstreet’s back—ALRIGHT!!”

You ducked behind your glass, mortified and hysterically proud.

“I hate you!” you yelled over the music.

“YOU LOVE ME!” he shouted back mid-dance break, spinning like a drunken Beyblade.

Post-performance:

Back at your table, Dante collapsed in a heap, dramatically fanning himself with a demonic drink menu.

“Well?” he panted. “Rate my boyband energy.”

You pretended to think. “You looked like a fever dream inside a leather jacket.”

“I am a fever dream,” he said smugly, wiping glitter off his face. “And admit it—you were into it.”

“…Maybe a little.”

“HA! One more round?”

You narrowed your eyes. “If I win again, you’re doing a K-pop routine.”

His soul visibly left his body. “You are crueler than Vergil on leg day.”

You smirked, already shuffling the cards. “Deal with it, Princess of Pop.”

An: Sorry if this isn't what you wanted but I hope you loved Dante singing backstreet boys and wearing a tutu..heh😼

#devil may cry #dmc #yo ri su ki #dante devil may cry #hes so silly

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coriolantha · 1 year ago

Text

‧˚₊•୨ Patience ୧•‧₊˚⊹

mike schmidt x GN! reader

summary: mike comforts you after you've had a long day₊˚⊹:˚｡⋆୨୧˚

tags: fluff, mike being a sweetheart (as always), anxiety, reader has bad self image, insecurities, reader is overwhelmed and needs a break (so real), hugging, cuddling, comfort

wc: 1.1k

notes: hii this is my first fic i've posted on here. ngl i'm... scared. im not proud of this but i can't scrap it this time otherwise i'm never gonna get anything posted LMAO. please leave any criticism in the comments if you'd like, feel free to share any opinions, i want to improve the quality of my writing! thank you sm for reading! 🫶

today has been punishing.

rain trickled down the foggy window, making soft tapping sounds as they hit and fell, reluctantly racing down to gather in the weep holes. the rough, scratchy carpet beneath you beginning to burn as you shuffled around your desolate home.

exhausted, you gave up trying to distract yourself from your main task; your bedroom.

your eyes darted around your cluttered room, glossing over as you noticed every individual piece of clothing that wasn't hung up, organized, and neatly put away. you began to have a headache thinking about where to even begin. you felt like a filthy slob, your surroundings perfectly reflecting how you've felt all day.

you flicked the lights off, the warmly lit room now becoming pitch black, except for the small gleam of light that came through the open door. you sat on your bed, absentmindedly kicking your various pants and t-shirts away from you to give yourself some room to lay down.

mike wouldn't be back home for a while now. it was only 12:45am, which gave you 5 hours and 25 minutes to attempt to sleep before having to get ready for your office job... which would leave little to no time to spend with mike.

fuck mondays.

turning over to your side, you hugged your knees, shivering. no amount of blankets could fix how cold you felt. the truth was, you missed your boyfriend; longing for his cozy hugs and soft, gentle kisses he'd press against your cheek as he consoled you.

you missed him more than anything in the world.

with a blink, the tears that have been collecting in your eyes came down your flushed face at once. laying there, you accepted your pitiful reality, slowly drifting off into unwanted slumber, in solitude.

the time was around 2am when you felt a dip into the bed. panicking, you quickly awoke, shuffling to sit up as fast as possible. although you didn't know of the time, something felt off. mike wasn't supposed to be home yet, that's for sure.

panic turned into confusion as you heard mike, obviously feeling guilty for having jumpscaring you so badly.

"oh, shit- baby, it's me," he whispered apologetically, reaching his hand out to cup your cheek. turning on the dim lamp, he quickly turned back to face you. his eyes bore into yours, scanning to make sure you were going to be alright.

all day he was desperate to see your face, even after his shorter-than-usual-shift. mike couldn't get enough of your perfection, although you always brushed him off whenever he ever mentioned this to you.

he noticed your terrified expression which started to wear off, beginning to blend into relief.

"it's just me... you don't need to worry about anything, okay? i'm right here, no one's gonna hurt you," he muttered, leaning over to press a chaste kiss on your lips, lingering longer than usual.

weight lifted off your shoulders as you began to put pieces together. now, all you needed was an answer to your burning question.

"mike, why did you come home so early? did something happen?" you asked anxiously, looking right back at your boyfriends affectionate, adoring eyes.

"oh, sweetheart..." he soothed, "i got let out early today. nothing worth worrying about. i guess they didn't need me as much as i thought they did," he let out a quick, dry laugh, shaking his head dismissively.

"fuck, i've missed you all day, i'm so damn glad i could leave that job early. anything to see you, my love," he cooed, brushing a strand of hair out of your face, delicately tucking it behind your ear

you were in awe; it was a miracle he came home early, especially today. you were fighting to hold your tears back, mouth quivering as you bit your bottom lip. mike noticed your change in emotion immediately.

"hey hey hey," he whispered urgently, quickly grabbing your hand and giving it a light squeeze, "what's wrong?" his voice drowned in concern.

"i did nothing all day. the only thing i've done is just stand around and... thought of doing something, but i couldn't. i was so tired, but of what? like, why didn't i clean our room? and the worst part is, you have to come home, tired as hell, ready to go to sleep, only to see your messy room and your partner who still hasn't done anything about it," you quavered, sniffling softly as warm tears fell from your eyes.

mike said nothing, but you could sense how hurt he felt after you talked so badly about yourself. he sighed, laying down on the plush mattress. he patted his chest, inviting you to rest your head there. you did so immediately, closing your eyes as you listened closely to his heart beat.

"you know i love you, right?" he asked gently. you stayed quiet, knowing he wasn't expecting an answer.

"i love everything about about you. but the only thing i don't love is how badly you talk of yourself. i hate it. it doesn't make any sense to me," he stressed, stroking your hair soothingly.

"so what if our room is messy? i don't think about that when i come home. all i think about is how i can finally be with you. i'm not going to let some clothes on the floor get in the way of us, ever. or anything, in fact."

you nodded in agreement silently, your tears dry on your cheeks.

"we can tackle this room together. we can do this however you want- i can pick up your clothes while you organize them into whichever area they go to, and i'll pick up my clothes too, but you won't have to organize that, i'll take care of it. how does that sound?" he asked delicately.

you instantly felt a huge weight lift off your shoulders.

"thank you so much, mike. you don't know how much i needed you today," you exhaled, "really."

he looked down lovingly at you, curled up beside him. he kissed your head tenderly, rubbing up and down your back.

goosebumps spread across your arms. you felt so loved and safe.

"the real question is," you suddenly asked, "how are you so perfect? were you made in a factory or something?"

"says you," he laughed, holding you tighter.

the two of you basked in the love you had for one another for a while. no words were exchanged, only him occasionally rubbing his thumb against your arm, while you began to doze off, which caught his attention.

"want me to turn the light off?"

you nodded, wrapping your arm around his stomach.

he turned over once more, pulling the cord of the lamp light, the room now pitch black.

"i love you," he whispered, turning to his side a little more so he could be pressed closer against you.

"i love you too, mike. always," you mumbled back, the two of you drifting off to sleep.

₊˚⊹:˚｡⋆₊୨୧₊˚⊹:˚｡⋆₊

dividers by @f-loqweres 🫶

#josh hutcherson #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x gn!reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt x y/n #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader fluff #fluff #mike schmidt x gn!reader fluff #comfort fanfic #comfort fluff #comfort #lovers #self love #jhutch #fanfiction #fanfic

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soupdrinkinglincoln · 5 hours ago

Text

Alright. It’s been one week since the finale. Time for my final retrospective on Ncuti’s time as the Doctor. First of all, writing my thoughts as soon as the episodes dropped means that I had to give my initial thoughts, original and my own and without the time for rethinking and changing with the opinions of others. I stick by many of them. Robot Revolution was a pretty decent episode with some really strong characterisation for Belinda. Lux was great. The Well is still weak to me, despite me feeling less awful about it after reading others takes, I do still believe Midnight is just that slightly weaker for it’s existence. Lucky Day was again fine, but I still think it should have been part of a UNIT side series. And if it setting up Conrad makes that any less true then, hey, I guess Conrad should have been the villain of a UNIT side series. The Story and the Engine, even as somebody who is white as they come, is a wonderful black storyline, in major thanks I’m sure to the writing of Inua Ellams and the directing of Makalla McPherson. The Interstellar Song Contest was super fun, if a little underbaked. Wish World was a good enough buildup to the finale. And the beginning of The Reality War was great. The. Beginning. Of The Reality War.

As a small aside before I begin anything in proper, who’s fucking idea was it to make Ncuti’s stories “Season 1” and “Season 2”? This is still NuWho; it’s not even a particularly long break between Flux and this. We’ve had some specials; that’s never messed with the seasons before. But god did it make trying to find these episodes as a reminder much harder! Doctor Who Season 15 brings up classic who; Doctor Who Season 2 brings up Army of Ghosts. What do you want from me, ‘Doctor Who Season 2 The Third’? Anyway, mini rant over, let’s begun the retrospective.

I think that a lot of people’s big issue, at least that I’ve seen, is that Ncuti’s seasons overrely on nostalgia and calling back to old villains like The Rani, Sutekh and Omega. Initially, I thought that was my issue too. And the rebuttal is obvious. “Oh, you think the show relies too much on nostalgia these seasons, and that’s the problem? What about the constant nostalgia usage from other seasons? Jodie wearing the fez; old companions always coming back, the Daleks and Cybermen and Zygons returning in NuWho from the classic season!” All of that is incredibly valid, and correct, and it’s those points that made me realise what my actual issue was. It was that there wasn’t anything from the classic episodes in this series. Think about it. Everyone’s shared their grievances about Ncuti not being allowed a single Dalek episode, or a Cyberman episode, or a Master episode. But we’ve had nothing back. No Weeping Angels, no Zygons, no Ice Warriors, no Judoon. I mean, for crying out loud, the Rani had a cheap method of time travel she wore around her wrist in lieu of a TARDIS, and the show refused to allow it to be a vortex manipulator. The closest that we’ve gotten to that I think is a single Silurian in ‘Joy To The World’. The refutal to that is also obvious, though, isn’t it. “What about those you’ve just listed? The Toymaker, the Rani, Sutekh, Omega. We got them back!” To which I say- did we? Past name alone these characters are not returning ones. We didn’t get the Celestial Toymaker back, we got the New Toymaker. We didn’t get the Osirans back, we got New Sutekh. We got the New Ranis instead of the classic version of her, and god fucking knows that I’d have given anything to have gotten the old Omega back instead of the CGI plot skeleton New Omega. I love the Pantheon, believe me I do. But they shouldn’t be there in place of the rest of the show’s classic cast.

Now, as for the companions- actually, wait. No. I’d like to talk about the formula before I get to that because comparing both seasons for this, side by side, it’s actually genuinely a little eldritch just noticing what sort of a formula they had to have been working off. Ruby gets The Church on Ruby Road, which is counted as a holiday special before the series, and then following that, just go with me here. Two seasons, eight episodes. The first one is for characterising the new companion and who they are. Then there’s an episode where they deal with a Pantheon member related to the arts. Then there’s an episode where the companion is shown how dangerous travelling with the Doctor is, by way of them being shot. Then there’s a Doctolite story where Ruby is a public enemy. Then the series has a single episode that’s allowed to touch on and discuss the Doctor’s race in more detail than the others. Rogue and The Interstellar Song Contest feel like they have their own identity- and I enjoyed both. Then there’s a two part finale, built around an old lady who has been appearing everywhere across time and space wherever the Doctor goes. In the second part of that finale, the Doctor deals with a CGI creature of death. All the while, Susan is teased but never appears in person. It feels like they built both seasons from the same notecards, or the same structure booklet. I don’t feel like I could line things up like this for any other season of the show; or of any of the sideshows for that matter.

Okay, now onto the companions. Both had interesting mysteries attached to them when they were introduced. Ruby had her enigmatic mother, and Belinda had her connection to ambulance lady. Ruby’s mystery got an ending that was less grand, less insane and enigmatic than anyone expected, but nonetheless, it was human. Belinda’s was completely dropped so they could do a 180 on her character in the finale. Yeah, so let’s talk about Belinda. In Matt Smith’s series, James Corden came into the show in an episode where The Doctor was stuck on Earth. He came back with a child in a later episode with the Cybermen. Belinda, a major companion, had five more episodes than he did. In one of those, she was under the effects of the Wish, so let’s say four. Belinda, again, a major companion, had three times as many episodes as James Corden did. She was given such a strong and defining personality; the thing that made me so pumped for her to begin with, and then they slowly stripped it away. Her being a mother to Poppy was fine, worked well because she was under the effects of the Wish and all, and her being so different highlighted things just as much as The Doctor being John Smith did. But then she was just like that after the Wish ended. And the series ended on Belinda acting so uncharacteristic to how she was, to the degree where she just allowed the Doctor to scan her daughter without a care. In seven episodes. I don’t feel like this happened with Ruby. She began strong, resilient and defiant, and she ended off the same. Though I haven’t missed that she got ten episodes where she could fully be and explore herself, in comparison.

Now, I know fully well that I am far from the person most qualified to talk about race, but it would be impertinent for me not to. I, like most others, do not think that RTD was the person to handle running the show for the first black Doctor to have a main series run. The issues of race were touched on only when it was decided it should be; which was in a total of three episodes from what I remember. Belinda’s character is massacred, Belinda’s family appear randomly and get almost nothing, Carla Sunday gets more characterisation in alternate scenarios where she’s being miserable and horrible to Ruby than she does in the actual canon, Cherry is delightful but used as a gag, the Rani is shafted in her own arc as an antagonist. Everything is very telling but I’d rather leave the actual telling of that to the people who can do a far better job than I.

To conclude this overly long post that I’ve drafted over hours, Ncuti himself played an excellent Doctor in some episodes that I really enjoyed. But a lot of other things let him down. Maybe the showrunner is to blame, maybe Disney had a hand in things. But nonetheless, I think there’s one thing that, irregardless, is killing Doctor Who. And that thing is not Billie Piper. Rumours were that this would be the last series of Doctor Who before it ended. It didn’t. And I think that’s a damn shame. Doctor Who needs to end because the modern, bingeable, eight episodes a season, throw filler to the wolves style of television is not one where the show can thrive. It, to Doctor Who, is akin to a tight steel cage in which a tiger can do nothing but pace on end. I do believe that ‘bingeable limited run series’ style television will end, and that the twenty two episode monster-of-the-weeks and case-by-case detective slash doctor type shows will return. But until they do, I think Doctor Who should wait. Wait to be revived again, with fresh blooded showrunners who watched Jodie and Ncuti as children and who want to tell their own stories. I want more great Doctor Who some day, not more okay Doctor Who now.

Anyway this is genuinely the last time I bring this show up in a lengthy review until the next episodes come out or that sea show does so bye

#doctor who #the doctor #doctorwho #doctor who spoilers #dw spoilers #15th doctor #fifteenth doctor

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morehousebites · 8 months ago

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Quotes as House MD

Random shit my friends have said as House MD

for contex, I'm in training to get my Medical Assistant certification and most of my friends are also in/going into the medical field

House:

My mysteries are falling out

Can't a mortal want for death?

That's assault. Don't make me elevate it to battery

No no, don't be embarrassed, you all did bad

I'm going to Hell AND I have to pay with quarters? This is the worst day ever!

It's only like the fourth gayest sport. Behind football, chess, and competitive pole dancing

Either kill yourself or get over it

Don't touch these without gloves, they will irritate your tits

Well y'know, some people come out of the closet, [Chase] goes into the closet

I only let my [fellows] teethe on them occasionally. They're mostly slobber-free

Am I not writing right now? With my words? Like a poet?

You're a sick degenerate fuck! I like you

OSHA is for pussies

I can hurt you and then it will have to be my fault

I'm American I'm entitled to piss where I want

Happy erection day. Your penis hard?

I LOVE bullying children

Sorry ladies, this cock is all mine

It's not abuse if they're living. That's why you kill them first

Chase:

Being lesbian is masochist (referring to Thirteen)

As the youth are fond of saying these days: dope, sick nasty.

I'm a cunt not a whore

He's fat, he needs a vasectomy

She's 14, her uterus is gonna wither up

My dad has a PhD in Jesus

I don't even have a thought process

Ow, don't hit me, you're ugly

The part I'm confused on.... Is all of it?

Victim blaming, it's the right thing to do

Ketchup is such a good moisturizer

Aw man that sucked ass, I guess I'll just die hairy

No sin here, move along

Cameron:

I'm not a lesbian, stay away from me

Numbers, organs, same thing. What am I, a doctor? A medical student?

Not gonna lie I kinda like heroin

Them's the house rules, and I'm the coolest bitch

Wow she's pretty! Oh she's dying

Do you not want to smoke weed on the bus to the hospital?

Not even in a sexual way just vulvas are dope

Shawty is a state of mind

Honey no one wants your organs

Alright I'm gonna go finish my work and disappoint [House]

They can't know I'm a freak YET

Supportive parents? In this economy?

I can't cry cause the makeup's too slay

Whoever said laughter is the best medicine was a man

Gravity is a bitch sometimes

Pleasure myself, weep, and repeat

If I had a dollar for every time someone has told me that, I could actually afford therapy

This is pirated, by the way

I've got my own knives: they're called fingers and I swear to god if he talks to me again they are going in his eyes

Foreman:

I'm no one's babygirl, I'm someone's baby MAN

I can ethically own him in the free market space of debate

You think you have rights here? This is [the hospital]

You're taking a speed bump at 5 miles an hour, I'm gonna actually enjoy my life

There is no opinions on the gays

You spilled spaghetti on the church?! (directed at Chase)

That's not a hehe moment

Do any of you... Hear in the ears?

Infidelity ain't lookin so good right now

I'd be full of shit if I told you I knew the answer all the time

I sympathize with you but you're making funny noises

THE DOOR WAS UNLOCKED THE WHOLE TIME AND I SLITHERED THROUGH THE WINDOW?!

Don't antagonize drunk old men who hate you

#hate crimes md #robert chase #doctor house #allison cameron #eric foreman #greg house #gregory house #house md #malpractice md #text post #long post #quotes #funny quotes #incorrect quotes

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cherry-romper · 1 year ago

Text

Loving You Sounds Like A Song

Playlist

+ Daichi, Sugawara, Asahi, Nishinoya, Tanaka, Kageyama, Hinata, Tsukishima, Yamaguchi, Kuroo, Kenma, Oikawa, Iwaizumi, Bokuto, Akaashi, Ushijima, Tendo

Open to writing more characters!

Daichi; Locked out of Heaven - Bruno Mars

I'm born again every time you spend the night

'Cause you make me feel like, I've been locked out of heaven

You can make a sinner change his ways

Can I just stay here? Spend the rest of my days here?

Sugawara; Telepatia - Kali Uchis

Who would have thought, That it was possible, To make love by telepathy

You know I'm just a flight away, If you wanted you can take a private plane

We're connected although we're miles apart

I can hear your thoughts like a melody, Listen while you talk when you're fast asleep

Asahi; Would That I - Hozier

True that I saw her hair like the branch of a tree

True that love in withdrawal was the weeping of me

Oh, but you're good to me, baby

with the roar of the fire, my heart rose to its feet

Nishinoya; She Looks So Perfect - 5SOS

We work too damn hard for this just to give it up now

You look so perfect standing there, In my American Apparel underwear

And I know now that I'm so down

I got you name tattooed in an arrowed heart

Tanaka; Steal My Girl - One Direction

She's been my queen since we were 16

Her mum calls me love, her dad calls me son

Everybody wanna steal my girl

Couple billion in the whole wide worlds, Find another one 'cause she belongs to me

Kageyama; King of my Heart - Taylor Swift

Salute to me, I'm your American queen

We rule the kingdom inside my room

'Cause all the boys in their expensive cars, With their Range Rovers and their Jaguars, Never too me quite where you do

King of my heart, body and soul

Hinata; Golden - Harry Styles

I know you were way to bright for me

You're so golden

I don't wanna be alone when it ends

Lovin' is the antidote

I know that you're scared because I'm so open

Tsukishima; R U Mine? - Arctic Monkeys

She's a silver linin' lone ranger ridin' through an open space

In my mind, when she's not right there beside me, I go crazy 'cause here's not where I wanna be

And I cant help myself, All I wanna hear you say is, "Are you mine?"

She's a silver linin', climblin' on my desire

Yamaguchi; Rose-Colored Boy - Paramore

I hear you making all that noise, About the world you want to see

But hearts are breaking, and the wars are raging on

You got me nervous, I'm right at the end of my rope

Just let me cry a little bit longer, I ain't gon' smile if I don't want to

My rose-colored boy

Kuroo; Shut Up and Drive - Rihanna

If you think you're the one, step into my ride

So if you feel me, let me know

My engine's ready to explode

Get me where you wanna go, If you know what I mean

Got a ride that's smoother than a limousine

Kenma; Ivy - Frank Ocean

I thought that I was dreaming when you said you loved me

It's quite alright to hate me now

When we both know that deep down, The feeling still deep down is good

We didn't give a fuck back then

Oikawa; Say It Right - Nelly Futado

You either got it or you don't, you either stand or you fall

You don't mean nothing at all to me

But you got what it takes to set me free

I could show you tonight

Iwaizumi; Die For You - The Weekend

I'm findin' ways to articulate, The feeling I'm goin' through

See it in your eyes, You hate that you want me

It ain't working 'cause you're perfect, And I know that you're worth it

Just know that I would die for you

Bokuto; Stargazing - The Neghbourhood

If I start, I just cant stop

Keep runnin' 'til we're lost

I can feel your heart beatin' with mine

Started with a spark, now we're on fire

Akaashi; Sofia - Clairo

I think we could do it if we tried, only to say, "You're mine"

You know I'll do anything you ask me to

But, oh my god, I think I'm in love with you

Baby you don't gotta fight ill be here 'til the end of time

Ushijima; SLOW DANCING IN THE DARK - Joji

I don't want a friend, I want my life in two

When I'm around slow dancing in the dark

Don't follow me, You'll end up in my arms

Give me reasons we should be complete

Cant you see me?

Tendo; G.U.Y - Lady Gaga

I wanna be your G.U.Y

I'm aiming for full control of this love

love me, love me, please retweet

Let me be the girl under you that makes you cry

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #sawamura daichi #sugawara koushi #asahi azumane #yu nishinoya #tanaka ryuunosuke #kageyama tobio #hinata shoyo #kei tsukishima #yamaguchi tadashi #kuroo tetsurou #kozume kenma #oikawa tooru #iwaizumi hajime #bokuto koutarou #akaashi keiji #ushijima wakatoshi #tendou satori

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everlastingdreams · 5 months ago

Text

The Weeping Monk x Fem!Reader : Forged Of Fire Chapter 33

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Story Summary: Raised under the tiranny of your own family, and forced to steal to earn your keep, you struggle to survive. Born from a Fey mother, and a Manblood father who wanted only sons, you are forced to hide your Fey side. When you are ordered to steal from Father Carden by your half-brother, Cassian, your life spirals out of control and you find yourself at the mercy of the Weeping Monk. The life you knew changes drastically when Cassian betrays you in the cruelest of ways. A trade is made, a promise is broken, and a debt must be paid.

Chapter Title: Cursed

Notes: I'm so relieved people liked the previous chapter 😅

Warnings: Angst. Hurt. Trauma bonding. Intrafamily violence. Depression. Self-harm. Suicidal thoughts. Violence. Torture. Gore. Pining. Trauma. Self-Flagellation. Manipulation. Strong Language. Blood. Misogyny. PTSD. Spicy and smut parts. Slight redemption arc. Lima/Stockholm syndrom-ish. Childhood trauma.

Other warnings: Jealousy. Forced Marriage. Forbidden Love. Romance. Slow-burn. Found Familly-ish. Comfort. Fluff. !SMUT and SPICE!

Word count of this fic: +250K

Chapter: 33/47

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

In the morning, Lancelot was still asleep when you carefully crawled out of the bed and went to the washbasin. That attempt to not wake him failed when you stumbled over his boots and knocked your knee against the side of the bed. He was awake and trying to figure out what on earth had woke him.

“Sorry. I bumped into the bed.” you winced, rubbing your knee to silence the dull pain.

He got up out of the bed to see if you were alright, you assured him that you were. Slowly the sleep disappeared from his eyes and made room for a soft gaze aimed at you.

“Slept well?” his voice was like silk.

“I have. You?”

“Very.”

“Do you think there is still enough time to freshen up before Gawain arrives at the door?” you asked.

“Let us hope.” He smiled, caressing your jaw once. “Will you write of last night in your journal?”

You playfully smacked his chest. “How are you feeling?”

“Strange.” he admitted.

Your heart sank. “Because of last night?”

He answered quite fast again, “Yes.”

“I’m sorry.” It was like a pit had formed in your stomach. “Did I make you feel uncomfortable?”

" ‘Uncomfortable’ is not how I would describe it.” He had that boyish smile on his face suddenly. “You made me so ‘comfortable’ that I find it hard to keep track of my thoughts.”

Then he looked at you, seeing those worried eyes. You saw his gaze drop and met him half-way as he leaned in to kiss you. Softly his mouth moved with yours, a sweet kiss to seal the night that had felt like a dream. His arms wrapped around you to bring you closer against him. Never had your morning been so lovely, you never thought it even possible until that moment.

He stepped back to clear his thoughts before they were beyond saving. “I will give you your discretion. Call out when you are done?”

You nodded and watched him head to the other side of the room, he took seat on the bed facing away from you. He grabbed your satchel, took your journal out, and started reading. “I did not hear myself give you permission to read my journal.”

He did not look back at you, too engrossed by the writing on the pages. “I do believe you would not share the sort of intimacy with your journal that we have shared last night.”

You tossed one of the clean rags and it hit his back, he didn’t even bother to look or respond. “Nosy…”

You focused on washing up quickly so he could have the same chance. The sun was falling through the windows of the room by the time you were both dressed. You gave one last look at the bed while putting your satchel on and decided to quickly make the sheets look less tangled than they were, Lancelot suppressed a smirk when he saw it. He gave your hand a squeeze when he heard the approaching footsteps and caught the nearing Sky Folk scent. That sound was what finally brought your thoughts back to reality, it was so simple to forget that this room had been your prison for a night and that the people outside that door would still need convincing that you and him could be trusted.

“Gawain is here.” Lancelot whispered to you seconds before the knock on the door came.

“Lancelot? It’s time. Are you decent?” Gawain called out through the door.

He looked back at you, just to be very certain of it, “We are decent.”

The door was unlocked and opened right away by the knight, he had come alone to collect you. “We have another visitor here who has asked to be present when you speak to the council.”

“Council?” Lancelot questioned.

The knight looked nervous. “Arthur, Gareth and I, Kaze and the Red Spear. And Merlin will be present.”

Lancelot could not hide his shock, “Merlin?”

Gawain gave a nod. “He arrived here just before dawn. In search for you. He is very persistent to see you.”

“Why?” he asked.

“You will see.” Gawain beckoned for you to follow him.

“What about Percival?” You worried.

“Do you think that boy needs an invitation to be present?” Gawain deadpanned.

Good point. Percival would always find a way to stick his nose into matters that interested him. Together with the knight you walked to the great hall of the castle, feeling the anxiousness radiate from the Ash Man. There were many stares from the shadows of the hallways, looks of recognition, confusion and sadly hatred. Discreetly Lancelot moved you by the arm to walk closer to him, aware of the risk. One day, you hoped the Fey would see what you saw and know what you knew about the man behind the Weeping Monk, or that they would at least find it in their hearts to not harm him. Only time would tell, and you prayed that the Green Knight could help prove to the Fey that Lancelot deserved a chance to prove he belonged with his people.

~~~♡~~~♡~~~♤~~~♡~~~♡~~~

The moment you stepped into the room with Lancelot and Gawain, you took note of all who were presented. Pym, and the woman you assumed had to be Red Spear as she had the weapon with her. Gareth, Kaze and Percival. And Arthur was talking to a man you had not seen before, was that Merlin? They were speaking of someone, ‘Morgana’ and Arthur seemed quite upset by the topic. When Percival ran towards you to ask if you and Lancelot were alright, the eyes of the room turned your direction.

“I’m alright, my sweet boy.” you brushed a hand over that wild hair of his.

Percival went over to Lancelot’s side, almost standing against him, and Lancelot placed a hand on Percival’s shoulder.

Gareth wasted no time on greeting Lancelot and went right to getting under his skin. “How was it to be locked in a room yourself for once?”

“Leave it, Gareth.” Gawain sighed, annoyed by his brother’s eagerness to get himself into trouble.

But Lancelot gave the vague answer, “Enlightening.”

In more ways than he would ever share with this knight who was hellbent on ruining his sanity.

Arthur spoke to Lancelot before Gareth could do so again. “You recall what you agreed to last night? I promised you a chance if you prove yourself worthy of it.” Arthur looked at you. “Y/n, is it?” He saw you nod. “I hope you were honest about being here to help.”

Lancelot pulled the attention back. “She is. I made a vow to Percival that I would offer my aid to the Fey, and I will. I do not ask for forgiveness, I only hope for a chance to make amends if you will allow it.”

Arthur had not expected the former Weeping Monk to be so calm outside of battle and so open about the remorse he felt. “This chance is given to you by the generosity of the Green Knight. And Percival has voiced his opinion on your wish to join our side, for hours. I do not know what Nimue would have done if she had been in my stead, but I know that she trusted the Green Knight and Percival. There are not many Fey left in Gramaire after the battle on the coast, but I assume more than half of them would be glad to see you dead. I’d suggest you do not leave these walls without the company of one of us, it might become safer for you once the Fey know you’ve come to help. Put that sword to use against the Church and they will start to see your bettered intentions.”

Lancelot looked at Gawain, clearly grateful, then gave Percival’s shoulder a small squeeze. “I am grateful for your mercy, you have my word I will proof that I am worthy of it.”

Arthur gave a nod and took a step back, gesturing to the man who had watched the conversation with strong interest. “This is Merlin, Nimue’s father.”

Merlin placed a large looking object, that was wrapped in what looked like a ruined cloak, against one of the benches in the grand hall. You heard the Hidden’s whispers, at first you thought it was a fly close to your ears, and you shook your head a little. Lancelot had a similar reaction, he was hearing them too.

“You wanted to see me.” Lancelot stated impatiently.

Merlin set his eyes on him, watching him with great curiosity. “I heard rumors of a marriage between the Weeping Monk and a woman. Carden would not have arranged such a matter if it was not to his own benefit. Then I heard more rumors, the girl, Fey?” Merlin looked at you in expectation.

You nodded. “Half-blooded.”

“Ash Folk, I presume.” The magician smiled, his eyes spoke of a wisdom within them.

It shocked you. “How do you know that?”

“I have lived long enough to recognize those markings.” Merlin made a faint gesture in Lancelot’s direction. “But it is the Hidden’s response to your presence that tells me what you are, young lady.”

“‘Young lady?’” you frowned, “You don’t look that old to me either.”

Merlin smiled in response to that. “Flattering to hear after the centuries I have bore witness to as they passed” He returned to the subject, “The Hidden cannot contain their enthusiasm at two of the Ash Folk together in the same room. Their powers spill through the veil into our world, especially at such a rare event. They have waited decades for this. As I have. This changes the fate of all Fey.”

“What do you mean?” Red Spear sounded impatient and curious. Pym send her a look.

Merlin smiled, he did enjoy to see others entertained and interested by his knowledge. “Sparing his life is what will grant the Fey a chance to fight back against the Church. A strong chance. I have witnessed before my very eyes what those of the Ash Folk are capable of.”

Merlin began to walk slowly in your direction, taking a jar from the satchel that he carried at his hip. Lancelot turned to stand a little differently, just enough to form a barrier should Merlin pose a threat to you or Percival. The magician smiled at him knowingly. Merlin opened the jar and awe filled the eyes of all those present. Those beautiful bright green flames burning in the jar captivated all. Lancelot’s markings responded to it beyond his control, as did yours, both taking a step back when the fiery red glow in them was on display for so many curious eyes.

“There they are.” Merlin pointed at your face a little.

It felt oddly personal to have them be seen by everyone there, even Lancelot tilted his head down and hoped his hood would offer some barrier against the stares.

“Whoa…“ Percival was staring, looking back and forth between you and Lancelot until his neck began to hurt.

Lancelot’s markings were the first to calm down, for you it took a bit longer from the lack of experience with them showing their existence.

“This fire is centuries old. Born from the power of your ancestors.” Merlin told Lancelot. “The Ash Folk may have disappeared from these lands, but their legacy cannot be erased. Your existence, Lancelot, carries that legacy.”

Lancelot was trying to make sense of what was being told to him, “What do you mean?”

Merlin tried to read his expression. “Do you not remember who your parents were?”

His jaw tensed. “I was too young.”

“A young mind holds knowledge far longer than often believed.” Merlin said after seeing the harsher look in his eyes. “I’ll freshen your memory.”

The answer was a firm, “No.”

You could tell right away that Lancelot was trying to be calm, but his past before the paladins was always a sensitive subject. You still remembered how he had reacted when you had read that passage from your mother’s journal out loud to him and how bad his response had been to it.

“Your father.” Merlin saw the Ash Man’s eyes briefly widen. “Ban. Impatient, reckless, but wise. Your Mother Elaine, beautiful, clever, soft of heart. You have her eyes.”

Lancelot’s demeanor changed instantly, he reacted cold. A warning, “Enough.”

Merlin sounded like he spoke from experience, “Carden expected you to forget their faces, did he not? And for a while you must have, so young of age, until their faces began to haunt your dreams.”

“Enough!” Lancelot snapped loud.

Merlin did not let it frighten him. “The stolen child. I was wondering if I’d ever see you again. You were just a babe when we first met.”

The Ash Man refused to continue taking part of this conversation, he turned and headed towards the door.

Kaze drew her sword. “Halt! You do not walk these grounds freely!”

He had halted. But the tension in the room was rising now that a sword had been drawn and the Ash Man was losing his composure.

You pleaded for him to calm down, having seen such a reaction from him before when it came to his past. “Lancelot, please-”

Merlin put his attention on you. “The Hidden are pleading for him to hear, but no matter how hard they try one as strong of spirit as him can refuse to listen.”

You sensed that the magician was holding back information on purpose. “What is it that the Hidden wishes to share?”

He told you the truth, “Festa and Moreii are pleading with their kin to claim what is rightfully his.”

“Kin?” Gawain put a hand on his hip, demanding an explanation.

Merlin closed the jar again and took a few steps into Lancelot’s direction, who was still at the door, “The Fey Fire? Born of the love between two of the Ash Folk who once came from enemy clans, their divided kingdoms were united by their union. The Hidden, Festa and Moreii, you share their blood. It is undeniable. Ban came from their lineage, as do you.”

Lancelot shook his head, denying it as if it had been an accusation. You saw how lost his eyes had gotten. He came from the Hidden, the gods he had spend most of his life fighting against… you understood why it was a shock to him.

Merlin continued, sensing the instability in him, “It all began with the Ash Folk. Festa and Moreii were royalty among the Fey, their lineage wore the crown for centuries. By the power of your bloodline, by birthright, you are the heir to King Ban’s crown. The last of your line, the Asher Prince. The Hidden wants you to claim your birthright, they want you to accept them, to hear them. To them you are their last hope of restoring what has been lost to time.”

All his life he was taught the Hidden were evil spirits that plagued the land. And now he learned he was their descendant and the heir to their legacy and crown? All the times they had haunted his dreams deep into the night, all the times he was taught that he was damned, and now he understood how deep his connection to these gods truly was. All his prayers were futile, he shared direct blood with what he was taught to eradicate. He felt sick to his stomach… all this time… everything he knew and did…

“Stop…” Lancelot shook his head, wanted to step towards the door before remembering Kaze was there to stop him, instead he created quite a distance by walking away in the great hall from everyone. “All these years… it was all for nothing…”

No one in that hall was left unaffected by what he had said, there were so many emotions laced through his words. Despair, anger, disappointment, sorrow… he had sounded so very lost. Percival looked so very worried, his eyes filled with an amount of empathy that you had never seen before.

You walked over to Lancelot and gently took hold of his arm. “Lancelot-”

His voice thundered into the room. “Don’t!”

You let go of him right away, hating how you had flinched by reflex even though you knew he’d never lay a hand on you. Unfortunately the others had seen it happen too.

Regret filled his being upon seeing you flinch. Why did he resort to the tone of voice he had always used to command the paladins? He tried to calm down. Took your arm in his hold to draw you in closer, he was not given the chance to apologize before he heard steel being drawn.

Gareth had drawn his sword, watching the situation like a hawk.

Gawain warned Gareth, “Stand down, brother. He will not hurt his wife.”

“‘Wife’?” Gareth scoffed. “That whole arrangement was only to keep her father away. It was just for pretense. None of it is real. They were forced to wed.”

Lancelot turned to him, gravely insulted by that claim. “Our marriage was forced upon us, but my love for her is true!” It flew out in the heat of the moment. His eyes fell away from their shocked faces, realizing what he had just said out loud… for all to hear.

You were breathing faster, you had hoped to hear him tell you, but you’d never thought he would shout it. Always surprising you with that braveness that resided in his heart.

Slowly he looked at you and stole a glance, he had stunned even himself by doing this. That look, an unspoken question you could read right from the heavens in his eyes. A plea to forgive him for doing this with so many present, a plea to forgive him for loving you should you not feel the same. So many emotions echoed in his eyes before they focused on the floor. You got closer and put a hand on his chest, allowing him to calm down under the touch. A silence passed around the room, as if they could all sense the distress in him.

It was Merlin who spoke again, “The Court of the Ash Folk has been abandoned many years ago. If we could access it again, it would be an excellent sanctuary for the Fey. The area has a long history and the Church fears it, they refuse to enter the area because of whispers that it is haunted.” He took a step in Lancelot’s direction. “Your parents were on their way traveling there, unfortunately they never reached the home of their ancestors. Father Carden had begun his mission and he had heard rumors of the Ash Folk and their gifts, but only after his paladins had already killed almost all who were still in these lands. You were the youngest, the easiest to be influenced, the perfect example of how their scriptures brought darkness upon the land. A child stolen, a heritage erased, a weapon.”

You could feel Lancelot tense up again and decided to speak. “This ‘court’, what is it exactly?”

The magician sensed the turmoil in the Ash Man, but he did not take a single step away. “A castle so large, ingrained in the rocks, high enough that the little ones believed they could touch the moon atop the highest tower.”

Lancelot grew interested in the topic. “How can you know if it would provide safe sanctuary for the Fey? Have you been there?”

“I have.” Merlin smiled, reminiscing on the memory of it. “It was once home to the Fey, long ago in the beginning. Each of your ancestors…” He turned to the other Fey, looking them all in the eyes, “-came from this place. The roots of all Fey clans grew from the Ash Folk, their magic was what allowed the other clans to come into existence.”

“What?” Percival blurted out.

Merlin looked at the child. “It is true, young lad.” He asked Lancelot, “Do you never wonder why it is that the Ash Folk can sense the Fey? The truth is that the Ash Folk are the closest to the Hidden of all the Fey, they are the connection between the Old Gods and life on this earth. There was a reason your father was once king. The blood of all Fey clans runs through your veins. The Ash Folk were the first Fey to exist, it all began with them and magic did the rest.”

“Ugh…” Gareth blurted out, then saw your glare.

Merlin ignored him. “If my guess is correct, the Ash Man can undo the curse that has the castle in it’s hold.”

“What curse?” Arthur asked.

Merlin locked eyes on Lancelot. “Vines have overgrown it and no sword has been able to cut through them. Because the blade was never important, it’s wielder is.”

Lancelot did not sound like he fully believed it, “You believe I am the key to end this ‘curse’?”

Merlin noticed that doubtful tone. “Young man, you have the blood of Festa and Moreii in your veins. They will be inclined to aid their kin. Go to the court of the Ash Folk. Perhaps not all is lost if the place accepts you as it’s own.”

“What other benefits are there to reclaim it, other than sanctuary?” Lancelot asked, believing the magician had other reasons.

Merlin went back to where he had placed the large cloak wrapped object, he proceeded to show what was hidden into it. A sword. The sword so many had whispered about. “It was born from the forge of the castle. The unnatural heat of the Fey Fire can make weapons of unmatched strength even without the use of magic. Let the fire take away the power of the sword before it can fall into the wrong hands again, and make other weapons that the Fey can wield against their oppressors.”

Merlin had taken a few steps in Lancelot’s direction again, the sword’s response surprised all. It glowed at the crossguard and pommel as if it was searing hot, Merlin let go of it, waving his hand like it had indeed been far too hot to hold. The steel sounded loud as it hit the tile flooring and slid all the way across it on it’s own until it hit Lancelot’s boot, he put his boot down on it instantly to stop it.

In his ears he could hear the screams long past that haunted the sword, the Hidden once again called him a ‘Dark Angel. This was the Devil’s Tooth, the sword Father had wanted for so long, and it was right under his boot. If the stories of this sword were true, if the faint screams he heard were all caused by this blade…

Lancelot moved his boot off of it and took a few steps back when he saw that the sword remained still, he gestured to Merlin to pick it up. But Merlin must have already expected what would happen, as he did not look surprised when he tried to pick it up and the sword glided over the floor back to Lancelot, again it hit the tips of his boots.

Red Spear was frowning hard. “What’s happening?”

Arthur had a similar reaction. “That’s what I’d like to know too.”

Percival wanted to go and try to pick the sword up, but you caught him by the shoulder of his jacket before he could.

“Take it.” Lancelot told Merlin, hoping that the magician would try again.

“It won’t let me. They won’t let me.” Merlin said, making no more attempts to try and take the sword back. “The sword returns to the power of the Fey Fire it senses in you.”

Gawain tried, carefully reaching down for it, but the sword was hot to the touch the second the knight touched it. He looked at Lancelot. “Try to pick it up?”

“No.” Lancelot was quick to answer. “I can hear the harm it has already caused. I can hear their screams…”

A lot of frowns were aimed at him, it showed that no one else heard them.

“Nimue heard it too. She told me once.” Arthur admitted.

“Many years ago, I wielded this sword.” Merlin tilted his head down in shame. “I was corrupted to do harm by a power I thought I could control. But I could not.” He gestured to the sword beneath Lancelot’s feet. “You were corrupted by the promise of a father’s love. In a way, my reasons were selfish, egotistical. Yours were the actions of a man who had lost his way. We share a similarity you and I. We both seek a way to absolve ourselves from the wrong we have done. This could be your way.”

Arthur was appalled. “You would trust him to wield that sword?”

“Who better to wield it, than the clan who created it?” Merlin said. “Festa and Moreii chose to let them be heard by Lancelot for a reason.”

Lancelot knelt down, contemplating his choice above the blade. “It is said to be cursed. It’s presence here is a threat to all of Gramaire, Uther and the Church are chasing this blade.”

Merlin saw how the sword remained calm in the presence of the Ash Man. “It is cursed to protect it against the ones who seek the Fey’s extinction. For now it is safest in your hands. Your power can destroy it, the sword knows.”

Arthur came forward and tried to pick up the sword with caution, but it once again glowed in a mystical way to warn him not to touch. He shared a look with Lancelot, a small nod. With the same caution, Lancelot reached down to pick up the sword. His hand wrapped around the hilt without lifting it, and for a few seconds he waited to see how the sword responded. All were waiting to see it burn his hand, or worse. But nothing happened, the sword’s temperament was calm and still. Lancelot looked over his shoulder to lock eyes with you.

“Can it hurt him?” you asked Merlin.

Merlin was honest about it, “If it wanted to, yes.”

Preferably, you wanted to get him away from the risk of getting his hands burned or worse. “Lancelot. Be careful.”

He gave a nod, rose to his feet, sword in hand. “How old is it?” he asked Merlin.

Merlin smiled. “Older than me.”

Lancelot took a moment to study the sword. Symbols were engraved along the length of the blade, he was quiet for a moment whilst his eyes trailed over them.

“You can read it.” Merlin said, sounding a little surprised.

Lancelot looked at him curiously. “Can you not?”

Merlin seemed disappointed. “Not all of it. The symbols and their order make no sense to me. Perhaps it was never meant for me to read.”

You watched Lancelot step towards you, he showed you the blade’s inscription.

“Do you know what it says?” he asked, a curiosity in his tone that told you this had to be something the Ash Folk were able to read.

To you it were just symbols, disappointed you shook your head. “No.”

Lancelot picked up on the pinch of sadness in you. “Can you read other Fey symbols?”

You shook your head again, by hiding your Feyblood from the world for so long you had also missed out on learning the language.

“I will tutor you.” he whispered the reassurance, then turned towards the others. “If this cursed castle is able to provide sanctuary for the Fey, then I will do my best to acquire access to it.”

“And what of the sword?” Gawain asked him. “Do you believe you can carry that responsibility?”

Lancelot looked down at the sword in his hand. “It appointed me to do so. We will see what plan it has.”

“You still owe us information on the Red Paladins. Everything you know, every plan they had made.” Arthur reminded him. “Keep your promise.”

“Do you have maps?” Lancelot saw Arthur give a nod. “The paladins use some villages for supplies, others for resting when traveling between one city and the next. There are certain roads where they were told to ambush any Feys they would encounter.”

Pym went away and returned not much later with arms full of maps. Thankfully, there were descriptions of which map was what written on the scrolls. Lancelot sought out the ones that he knew were important, put them down and open on one of the tables by using candelabras. They were all busy for a while, paying attention to the information Lancelot was able to provide them with.

When they were finished with the last map, Merlin prevented them from taking it off of the table. “The court of the Ash Folk is here.” he pointed to a spot on the map.

“Travel time?” Lancelot looked to Gawain.

Gawain crossed his arms, looking down at the map. “A few days. If the weather is kind.”

Arthur spoke up. “We should not delay traveling there. Gramaire is not safe for the Fey, we need a solution and we need it quick.”

Gareth looked at Gawain. “If you travel there, I will remain here in Gramaire to watch over the safety of the Fey here and lead them away if danger comes.”

“A good idea.” Gawain approved. “What do you say, Lancelot?”

“We could start the journey today.” Lancelot looked at the others in the room. No one voiced any objections to that plan.

“Any one else here who chooses to come along?” Gawain asked everyone.

“Aye.” Red Spear raised her hand, Arthur did the same.

Pym hesitantly raised her hand too, and when Red Spear looked at her she said, “I’m a healer.”

You and Percival raised your hand as well.

Kaze spoke up. “I will stay here, with Gareth. We’ll keep the Fey safe until we hear word from you.”

Gawain gave a sharp nod. “Then we prepare for the journey and head to the stables, we might be able to reach an inn by nightfall. If not, we sleep in the forest.”

Arthur collected the map from the table. “Good plan.”

Lancelot was looking at the sword in his hands again, burdened by the responsibility it gave. You just hoped it would not do him harm and corrupt him like it once did Merlin.

~~~♡~~~♡~~~♧~~~♡~~~♡~~~

Arthur, Red Spear and Pym, were already outside the stables with their horses and ready for the journey. Percival was still in the stables helping Gawain ready his horse, whilst Gareth watched them interact. Lancelot had put the Sword of Power on Goliath’s saddle, the saddle was altered by him in such a way that it was simple to store weapons even in hidden places. It seemed that he was not planning on using the sword unless it was truly necessary. He was talking to Merlin in the stables, and you heard the magician mention that Lancelot appeared ‘not tempted’ by the power the sword was so freely offering him.

You were readying the saddle of your horse, still missing Bear and wondering if he was even still alive, when the stirrup got detached somehow. Maybe the stirrup had not even been attached properly at all.

Gareth had noticed and came to help attach the stirrup again. “I’ll help.” He had already taken over the task from your hands. “You look better than when I found you in that dusty room.”

“I took off the layers of dust.” you jested.

It was that jest that seemed to make him bolder. “Anything else you wish for me to help you with?”

That suggestive tone he had… “I am a married woman.”

He grinned wickedly. “And I am open to share you.”

Your eyes widened. “Either I have hit you so hard that you have lost your mind, or I didn’t slap you hard enough.”

He turned, standing nonchalantly with a hand on the pommel of the saddle. “Or I was merely joking and hoping we could bury the hatchet.”

It was hard not to be wary of him. “I am supposed to forget how you abducted me and killed the person who lived in that house you took me to?”

“I never killed anyone for that house, I said that just to scare you a little and make you listen.” he admitted.

“You’re a terrible knight.” you said.

He gave a timid smile. “I’m working on it.”

When Gareth saw Lancelot approach, he took a step away and answered the unspoken question that hanged in the air between them. “Just admiring her from a distance.”

The corner of Lancelot’s mouth curved, the blatant audacity of the knight was clear to him. “Make it as far as possible.”

Gareth held up his hands in defeat, but he never wiped that grin off his face. He went to talk to Gawain.

“You alright?” you asked Lancelot.

He grimaced. “I have a cursed sword on my horse’s saddle and I am expected to break a curse on a castle. I would say that I am burdened with a responsibility beyond my abilities.”

You gave his arm a squeeze meant to silence that doubt in him. “That sword picked you for a reason, I have faith that your abilities are much stronger than you believe them to be.”

There was a hint of a smile. “You have too much faith in me.”

Your fingers tugged at his sleeve in a playful manner. “Nonsense. I’ve seen what you can do.”

Another matter still haunted him. “Earlier, when we were speaking to Merlin… I saw you recoil from me. You were trying to calm me and I was a fool to let myself respond the way I did.”

The remorse in those eyes were a sight that scraped a nail over your heart. “It wasn’t your fault that I reacted that way, I just spend too much time around Cassian and Aldith.”

“You must know that I would never harm you?” he quickly asked.

You cupped his cheek. “I know.”

He plucked your hand from his face and held it in his own. “There is another matter.”

You saw him look down at your encapsuled hand. “Yes?”

He struggled to say a word, suddenly anxious. He spoke so quiet you could barely hear, “Do you love me?”

What if your feelings towards him were not the same? That perhaps it was just lust. And he couldn’t believe that he would accept that as long as he could have you with him. Because he could not fathom no longer sharing such affection together.

You faltered, not prepared for such forwardness. “What-”

“I need to know.” He lowered his voice. “I will still want for us to be as we were last night. But I need to know the truth.”

This was not the time or place when you thought you’d have to do this, but with him there was never such a thing as the right time and place.

“I was waiting for you to say it. I knew you would one day.” you said, then jested, “Just didn’t think you’d shout it at others.”

Hope filled his eyes. “You were waiting…”

You fed his hope with what he longed to hear. “I love you. I love you so much that I would have done just as you just said. I’d have spend my nights with you because nothing compares to how you make me feel when we’re together. Even just your voice, your scent… I can’t miss it anymore.”

He moved closer, much closer, cradled your head in his hand. He brushed his lips to your forehead, a peck just above your brow.

“Why do you keep doing that?” Percival’s voice rang from a couple of steps away, he had asked it as if it was repulsing to witness.

Lancelot squinted his eyes at the child, ignoring the question for he doubted an answer was needed. “Where is the horse Gawain was going to appoint to you?”

Percival shrugged his shoulders. You saw Gawain approaching with said horse, a smaller white mare.

Gawain walked right up to Percival with the mare. “This one’s yours. A knight should have a good horse.”

Percival looked at him and the horse with big eyes. “It’s mine?”

He handed him the reins of the horse. “Let’s see you ride it. Go on, try.”

After a failed attempt, Percival did manage to scramble himself into the saddle.

“Good lad.” Lancelot praised the boy for his fortitude.

“Ready to go?” Arthur called out to all.

Gawain looked at Lancelot, seeing how the Ash Man was delaying going to Goliath. “Are you?”

“Just a moment…” Lancelot excused himself. Then he put a finger under your chin to get your attention, leaned in and pecked your lips.

You couldn’t believe he would be brave enough to do so in front of all to see. Even Percival. It felt like all eyes were in your direction now.

“Yuck.” The boy scrunched his nose.

Gawain tried to sound stern. “If you are done. We are waiting on you to head on out.” He took it upon himself to walk alongside Percival on the horse and see how well the boy’s horseback riding skill was, giving you and Lancelot a moment.

Your cheeks burned under the stares aimed at you from those who had seen. It was in times like these that you were reminded how bold he truly was, a shell of manners that hid how truly unashamedly forward and impulsive he could be.

“You really aren’t afraid to show yourself like this, huh?” you chuckled, envious of how he did not let the stares bother him.

He found it rather amusing to see how timid it had gotten you. “I do not care what others think about this.” Then the cheeky bastard leaned in to whisper close to your ear. “You were not this shy last night.”

One swat to his chest, another to his arm, you scolded him for trying to shake your composure. “Shut up.”

He grinned, you swatted playful against his chest again. Gawain had returned, took Lancelot by the sleeve and with one sharp pull he nearly dragged him in Goliath’s direction.

“If we do not leave now we will have to set up camp by the time we are out of the city at this pace.” The knight grumbled at him.

You mounted the grey mare and called out to Percival to ride beside you, the boy would surely offer entertainment during the ride. Merlin led the way once the group was past Gramaire’s walls, and you hoped the weather would remain as calm as it was or sleeping in the forest would be a dreadful task at night.

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