Thursday: Superlate Pinch Hit FREE FOR ALL
Sep. 1st, 2011 09:29 pmHey guys. I'm profusely sorry... It's only just been brought to my attention that no one made a post today. :(
So for what it's worth, have a Free For All!
Please follow our usual rules. Happy writing!
So for what it's worth, have a Free For All!
Please follow our usual rules. Happy writing!
no subject
Date: 2011-09-02 02:41 am (UTC)No fic but
Date: 2011-09-02 02:50 am (UTC)Re: No fic but
From:Re: No fic but
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From:no subject
Date: 2011-09-02 02:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-02 02:52 am (UTC)SPN, Gen, A Branch Too High on the Tree of Knowledge - PG-13 - 1/1 - (Warnings: torture, language)
Date: 2011-09-26 01:05 am (UTC)A Branch Too High on the Tree of Knowledge
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They hate Sam.
Adam doesn't want to be a jerk about it, honestly, he just gets it. You can't expect Joker to love Batman, same way Sam would be a dumbass for anticipating anything but torture in Hell. That's the way the fucking chocolate chip crumbles, after all.
What Adam doesn't understand is why they actually hate him more. What the ever loving crap, right? He never wanted to get involved in their shit!
Lucifer giggles, maniacal and creepy, while setting Sam on fire, still alive, but this icy anger – a flame of black ice, paradox of paradoxes – lights up his eyes whenever he so much as looks at Adam.
"You were so special," he always says, hands digging almost lovingly into Adam's ribcage, his fingers dipping in shiny red blood, so he could use it to paint over the porcelain of Adam's body. “He loved you so much, and for what, little bug?”
Adam doesn't want to, but he cries. He doesn't know why He, whoever he is, his name forever punctuated with reverence, would find him important. No one else ever did. If anything, Sam is more special. He's the one that the angel came for, then the man in the suit. Adam isn't at all.
He tries to tell Lucifer this, at first, though soon realizes the devil just won't listen – abhors him too much to lend an ear even for a second, no matter how eternity is wide open for them, when he could simply tear both of Adam's off his head. “I don't know! I don't know why!” becomes a choked mantra, not a prayer, because he doesn't believe in those anymore.
After countless disappointments, he changes his course. “You promised,” he screams, to an unmovable Michael, “You promised to take me home! You promised me my mom!” He tries not to feel like he's five years old again, lost at the mall, all those scary, uncaring or too involved people around him, sobbing “Mommy! Mommy!” as if he isn't too old for that, at nineteen.
Michael ignores him now, for the most part. He pretends Adam doesn't exist, like everyone else. But there was one time, soon after they fell, when Sam was still around to distract Lucifer's ire, that Michael gathered him up into his beautiful wings and wiped away his tears.
His touch should have felt gentle. Instead, it scorched a trail on Adam's defenseless skin, Michael's breath, if angels even required oxygen, whispered hot in his face, “I bowed, because Father asked, only because of Father. Should I have? Should I have betrayed my brother for you?”
He spits the word like Adam's nothing, but Adam isn't. He's less than that. And he wishes he was even smaller. Maybe then he wouldn't be stuck between these two pairs of important, special brothers. He's so tired of not knowing.
The End
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Re: SPN, Gen, A Branch Too High on the Tree of Knowledge - PG-13 - 1/1 - (Warnings: torture, languag
From:Re: SPN, Gen, A Branch Too High on the Tree of Knowledge - PG-13 - 1/1 - (Warnings: torture, languag
From:Re: SPN, Gen, A Branch Too High on the Tree of Knowledge - PG-13 - 1/1 - (Warnings: torture, languag
From:Re: SPN, Gen, A Branch Too High on the Tree of Knowledge - PG-13 - 1/1 - (Warnings: torture, languag
From:no subject
Date: 2011-09-02 02:52 am (UTC)No fic yet . . .
Date: 2011-09-02 02:56 am (UTC)Re: No fic yet . . .
From:Re: No fic yet . . .
From:no subject
Date: 2011-09-02 02:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-02 02:57 am (UTC)Who
Date: 2011-09-02 05:21 am (UTC)Eliot looked at the picture on Hardison's screen. "No, no, that's all wrong. Franklin didn't write like that. He wrote at a weird angle. And that November, he was thinning his ink. That's a fake."
He looked up to see everyone staring at him. Even Parker had stopped munching on her fortune cookies to stare at him, open mouthed.
"What? It's a very distinctive angle."
"No, seriously, how would you know that?" Hardison asked. "The top historians couldn't tell me that and that's their job. And trust me, I questioned them. Sophie questioned them."
"It's very distinctive, okay? Damn it, Hardison, I don't got to explain everything to you." Eliot had no idea actually how he'd get out of this one, if they pushed it. They normally didn't. Everyone had their secrets to hide. If they pushed him, he could push right back and they'd been living in each other's pockets long enough to know everyone else's buttons.
"If we're hinging this whole con on your knowledge, we need to know how you know what no one else does," Nate said, steepling his fingers and looking disturbingly like Eliot's dad, when he was still at home.
Eliot just scowled. Normally that fixed everything. Just have the hitter look like he was gonna hit you. Damn, he hated that it worked and depended on it, too. But this time they didn't back down.
"Do you have a degree in history?" Sophie asked gently, like she thought he might scare off.
Eliot raised an eyebrow. "Do I look like I got a degree in history? No, I saw him write the damn journal."
... And he did not mean to say that.
"Do you mean you don't die?" Parker asked, all too eager. "Or do you just die a lot?"
"I don't die," Eliot told her. "I mean, I would if you, like, shot me. But I haven't died yet. And I was only born in '74."
"1974 or 1774?" she asked archly.
"Damn it."
"I think you want to explain this," Nate told him and, for once, poured scotches for everyone.
Eliot measured the situation. Sophie and Hardison were between him and the main door and Nate was by the stairs. He would get out without hurting them and even if he decided to take the fall from the windows, Parker probably had a harness on under her sweater. If he had a broken leg, it would be easy pickings for her to catch him.
It'd been almost five years. They'd seen Nate in and out of prison, drunk and sober. They'd shouldered Hardison through his WoW sessions and the time in the Andes when they lost all internet service. He'd met Parker's Archie and vowed to knock his face in next time they met. He even knew Sophie's real name. Maybe it was his turn to give a little.
"It was somewhere between Sonid Zuoqi and Zammin-Uud. I was the last one left and... I didn't think I was gonna make it. It was winter and I'd already lost my boots. And then this... God, this impossibly British guy in an oversized coat walked over to me and asked if I wanted some tea. And... I said yes."
"So you were hallucinating."
Re: Who
From:Who Part 2
From:Re: Who Part 2
From:no subject
Date: 2011-09-02 02:58 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-02 02:58 am (UTC)Fill: "Flirting Among Friends", PG
Date: 2011-10-09 05:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-02 02:59 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-02 03:00 am (UTC)Like a Charm (Gen, PG)
Date: 2011-09-02 04:46 am (UTC)***
“Yep, that's defnitely her.” Turning to Simon, Kaylee gave his vest a good tug to smooth it out and brushed imaginary lint off his shoulders, cause this might be an emergency situation, but that weren't no excuse to let opportunity pass her by. “Think you're up to a little seducin' here?” she asked, checking over her shoulder once more to make sure that blonde at the bar was the same woman she'd seen with Badger earlier, not long before that little rat of a man had managed to grab Cap'n and Zoe, stash 'em somewhere for who knew what nasty purpose.
“Well, I – yes. Of course.” Simon didn't look so sure, not really, but then, he had a way of looking like that anytime he didn't have some pointy thing to hand, digging round in somebody's insides.
“Ain't gonna work, you know,” Jayne drawled, toying with his beer.
“And you have a better idea, I suppose?” Inara asked from the shadows, where she was trying without much luck to stand out less in the kind of crowd that didn't often see Companions up close and personal like.
“I ain't sayin' it's a bad idea. I'm just sayin' it's a damn stupid one. Girl like that, she ain't gonna go for the doc.”
“Oh, and I suppose you'd rather make a frontal assault on Badger's offices, go in with guns blazing and get the Captain and Zoe killed,” Simon said, sarcasm pouring off his voice so thick even Jayne couldn't miss it. “Yes, that would be a fantastically brilliant plan.”
“Gee now, why didn't I think of that?” Jayne said, sneering. “Oh wait, I did, and nobody liked it. But if y'all are set on goin' with this plan to seduce info outta her, oughta send someone knows what they're doing, at least.”
“Who did you have in mind, Inara? I'm not certain you've noticed, but that doesn't appear to be the type of girl who prefers the company of women,” Simon pointed out, and since Badger's blonde looked to be putting all her assets on display for a big guy with more hair and tattoos than skin, that seemed a decent enough point.
“No, you dumbass. Like me. Just watch.”
None of them could catch him in time without making a scene, and it was the longest ten minutes Kaylee could remember sitting through, the three of them holding their breath, just waiting for Jayne to stick his boot in his mouth and bring a whole world of hurt down on them. But it weren't to be, cause soon enough he was on his way back, little scrap of torn-off beer label in hand.
“Got an address,” he said, looking down at it. “Let's go.” When none of them made to move, just stood there gaping at him like he'd just quoted poetry, he looked sorta hurt, though it was always kinda hard to tell with him. “What are you morons starin' at? I got charms too, you know. And I know how to use 'em, which is more than the pretty doc here can say. Now get your gorram asses moving, we got us some heroics to perform.”
They moved, cause after all, it don't pay to argue with a man armed with both charm and a big gun.
“And you better tell Mal who it was did all the work, too,” he grumbled as they walked past the blonde, who winked and made a gesture so suggestive it gave even Kaylee an idea or two. “I'm givin' up a mighty tasty piece for this.”
Re: Like a Charm (Gen, PG)
From:Re: Like a Charm (Gen, PG)
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From:Re: Like a Charm (Gen, PG)
From:Re: Like a Charm (Gen, PG)
From:Re: Like a Charm (Gen, PG)
From:Re: Like a Charm (Gen, PG)
From:Re: Like a Charm (Gen, PG)
From:Re: Like a Charm (Gen, PG)
From:no subject
Date: 2011-09-02 03:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-02 03:02 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-02 03:04 am (UTC)To the waters and the wild
With a faery hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand."
no subject
Date: 2011-09-02 03:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-02 03:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-02 03:07 am (UTC)no fill but
Date: 2011-09-03 03:42 pm (UTC)Re: no fill but
From:Re: no fill but
From:no subject
Date: 2011-09-02 03:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-02 03:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-02 03:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-02 03:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-02 03:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-02 03:10 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-02 03:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-02 03:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-02 03:21 am (UTC)