#blond on brunette fuckery

[nutsackx]

sorry I’ve been gone for a millennia but here’s freaky parry to make up for it

i owed crow big time so I made this…thank you user @crow2222

i actually know nothing about these two but I’m trying my best

[sgiandubh]

Di solito non seguo le presenze occasionali di bionde o brune accanto a Sam. Nel corso degli anni sono rimasta in attesa di vedere tornare quella scintilla nei suoi occhi, lo sguardo da ragazzo/ uomo gentile dei primi anni. Caitriona ha indossato da tempo la maschera che toglie saltuariamente . Speravo che dopo le foto del funerale del padre l'era delle cazzate fosse finita. Evidentemente no. L'idiozia di queste rappresentazioni sta raggiungendo altezze irraggiungibili. Meglio sarebbe ignorare. E meglio sarebbe per entrambi leggere i post che li riguardano e che non rappresentano un pericolo per la loro vita reale. Forse pensano che tutto finira’ ma come saranno ricordati? . Per che cosa vogliono essere ricordati? Grazie per la tua ragionevolezza e sincerità.

Dear (returning) @findanserwers,

Grazie mille. Il problema che poni è importante: è così che vorrebbero essere ricordati? Spero di no. Altrimenti nemmeno Santa Rita potrebbe aiutarli. Entrambi.

Tradurrò prima il tuo contributo, poi la mia risposta.

' I usually do not follow the occasional blonde or brunette spotted next to Sam. Over time, I waited to see again that sparkle in his eyes, that boyish gentle gaze of early years. It's been a while Caitriona put on a mask, she does take off from time to time. I was hoping that after her father's funeral the fuckery era was over. It's obviously not the case. The idiocy of the show has reached unattainable heights. Better to ignore. And even better if they could read those posts that concern them and do not represent a danger for their real life. Perhaps they think it will all be over but how will they be remembered and for what? Thank you for being reasonable and honest.'

For our Anglophone friends, I answered:

'Thank you very much. The problem you are raising is important: is this how they would like to be remembered?

I hope not. Otherwise not even Saint Rita could help them. Both of them'.

Dear @findanserwers, money and fame do things to people. Compared to so many others, politicians included, they still look like dazed and confused amateurs. Yes, after all those years. Underneath that Constipated Matron and that Clueless Manwhore, those people still exist, somewhere. Sometimes, all it takes is just a walk in the park to get an unexpected glimpse of it. But we don't see them anymore. This is their rambunctious story. This is the life they have chosen to live. And these are also their perennial PR problems.

Un bacione. Pace e Bene.

[miscellaneoussmp]

Did Bad and Bagi interactions inspire this? Yes. Do I expect this to be anywhere close to Canon? Nope. Anyway, here's the story of The Grim Reaper meeting a set of twins (cw/tw: blood/violence/death mentions, general Cellbit fuckery):

In war, a lot of horrible things happen. That's just how it is. People die, and it's a tragedy, as it always is. Bad always finds himself on the battlefields. His duty to the world beyond demands it of him. Reaping the souls of those who have unfortunately passed on during battle is as simple as it's always been. It's just more time-consuming than usual. Bad can't find the energy to mourn every single soul he takes. He mourns for souls he's yet to take, instead.

Bad likes to believe he's seen everything in this world. He's just as old as it, if not even older. This world shouldn't hold many surprises. As always, he's proven wrong. In the woods not incredibly far from a main battlefield, Bad finds two people. They look young, really young. One sits next a body that is ripped to shreds, and the other sits further from the body. The one closer to the body wipes blood from his mouth as he looks up at Bad. His brown hair was held out of his face with a set of goggles. The one farther is chewing on what looks to be stale bread. She looks between the other and Bad, through her ash blonde hair. They look like siblings, twins maybe. These two are the types of souls that Bad mourns. He can feel they're destined for greatness, yet they're stuck here.

The young duo looks absolutely terrified as Bad approaches them, two sets of wide bright blue eyes stare at him. The one next to the body stands, holding his knife in a shakey white knuckle grip. The one farther grabs a sword in an equally shakey grip. Bad points to the body, and he tries his best to explain that he's just here for the soul. The young brunette nods before turning to his companion, his sister Bad assumes, and translates. Bad recognizes the language as Portuguese, but he doesn't have any hope in understanding what was actually said. Both lower their weapons, the closer sits back down, and both look in amazement as Bad tears the soul from the body. Simple as that. He jokes about soul, luckily, being left in tact. Neither one of the younger two laugh.

Bad stays after his job is complete. He's curious about siblings. He's still guessing at that fact. He wants to know more about the young soldiers. He wants to know more about the young souls he's mourning for. Bad asks about their names. The demon wants to know what names he needs to plead cases for in front of Death, herself. The brunette looks to his sister, a guess still, before turning back to Bad shaking his head. Neither has a name. Bad didn't have one for a while either, so he doesn't push. Next, he asks about their ages. How young are they truly? They can't be much older than eighteen. Bad hates the answer he receives. Quinze, the blonde, speaks finally, her voice shakes. Fifteen, the brunette translates in unsure tone. Was Bad ever that young? He can't remember. Finally, he asks if they're actually siblings. There wasn't any hesitation, both nod.

Bad is taken a back when they question him in return. He really shouldn't have been. They ask–the brother mostly asks, but the sister speaks, as well, in their native tongue–about his name. He shares with them his name and a few nicknames he's gotten over the years. There's a hint of recognition in their expressions with a few of his names. After a few more questions, some of which Bad doesn't answer, he offers the siblings non-stale bread. The brunette doesn't take it, instead licking his lips that are still covered in blood. Bad gets it. He really does. The blonde cautiously takes it with her hands still shaking as she does so. She examines the bread for any tampering. Bad gets that, too. He really does.

The Grim Reaper takes his leave after the siblings fall asleep, it was hours of a futile struggle to stay awake. He knows they sleep light and fearful. Bad mourns for their souls before he ever needs to reap them. The demon curses whoever or whatever has forced these nameless teens to fight. He mourns for the day he'll take their souls. At least they'll know peace then.

After nearly eleven years, Bad meets one of the young souls he mourned for, once again. He took the name Cellbit, and Bad thinks it's a fitting one. Cellbit is a investigator now, and his face holds a relaxed smile. He thanks Bad for being kind to him all those years ago. He doesn't mention his sister.

After nearly eleven years, Bad meets the other young soul he mourned for, once again. She took the name Bagi, and Bad thinks it's a fitting one. Bagi is a pacifist now, and her bright eyes are full of curiosity and determination. She thanks him for being kind to her now. She doesn't mention her brother.

[skin-slave]

Thank you @serenity-the-firefly !!!

Ok, so it goes something like this...

I've decided that hair comes in blond and brunette. Red hair obv exists, but it's only around 1% of the population. So instead of making a red category, I split them up and shove them into blond or brunette, depending on how I see them. I'm making more work for myself, trying to convince ppl that they aren't redheads, bc my system of "how hair grows" doesn't include all of the ways that hair grows.

If you're blond or brunette, awesome! (Not sarcasm, genuinely awesome.) You're recognized, even if I don't fix the problem. You will always see others who look like you in media. There are hair products specifically for you. Your hair color will never be a problem. If you don't wanna think about it, you don't have to.

But what about the redheads? Do they matter? They aren't recognized. They aren't represented. They have to use things that are made for someone else, while pretending to be someone else. They will have problems bc of their hair color. They can't afford to not think about it, bc they have to deal with those problems.

Let's say I add a red category. When redheads move from where I stuck them into the red category, have the other categories lost anything? (Remember, the redheads were never actually blond or brunette.) If someone is strawberry blonde and moves back and forth between categories, who's harmed? If someone dyes their hair red, who's harmed? If some reds are more natural shades and some are Manic Panic, who's harmed?

"But they're so rare." They're less rare than you think. But, more importantly, why does that matter? Does a demographic need to have a certain amount of ppl to deserve equity?

"But then we have to make products for them." Yes. We already do that for blondes and brunettes. It's equal treatment. (Think of irl store shelves. Does having shampoo for other types of hair keep you from buying shampoo? Would not having those products make it easier for you, or harder for others? If you ran a beauty company, would offering more products, and therefore having a larger customer base, be better or worse?)

"But it opens a floodgate and it gets too complicated." Ok. That's fair. Maybe I make a bunch of categories. Black, blue, grey, white, pink, thinning, bald, different textures and lengths. Maybe that's too complicated to put on paperwork. The next question is, does that need to be on paperwork? Unless someone is working directly with your hair, in which case they need more info than one word, do they need that info at all? Is the complexity better addressed by having 2 categories - which we know is wasteful and harms some ppl - or by rethinking how we use the categories?

"But it's new and I don't like it." There we go. That's not an unreasonable thought. But, the thing is, it isn't new. It's never been cut and dried. I put a lot of effort into trying to make it look that way, but you've always lived with redheads. They just keep being born, bc it's a natural human variation. Acknowledging that they are who they are doesn't change or devalue your hair. It'll take some getting used to. But it'll be so worth it. Even if you don't feel personally invested in the wellbeing of redheads, it means I can put the energy I used to fight them into other things that you do care about.

...

Sorry that's so long. I don't always go that deep. But I find it's a helpful analogy sometimes. Idk 🤷‍♀️ I guess it speaks to me bc ppl don't think of red hair as a deformity. Gender diversity isn't a deformity either. They're both just less common ways humans exist, no less natural or normal than the more common ways.

(Also, I try not to get too into the vagaries of gender fuckery, bc it's a lot to pile on, but adding in "unnatural" hair colors hints at it. Yeah, there are gonna be some ppl who are doing it way different for whatever reason. But it only matters as much as gender itself matters. And that only matters when it has to, or when the person wants it to.)

I know this is prob a dumbass thing to be happy about kinda, but I had a long debate over gender yesterday with a conservative Christian bro, and at the end he said I made good points and he disagrees, but will consider what I said. Like 🥹 did I just throw a starfish closer to the water

[problematicpervertpod]

recs on recs on recs

Yaoi/Manga I’m reading/have read. Please support the artists on official websites. If you have recs or want to chat about any of these get in my messages right the fuck now my dudes. Also spoilers, also this probably doesn’t make sense to anyone but me, also I think I’m funny sorry in advance.

Dangerous Convenience Store

Tags: Ongoing, self aware lead for the most part, gangs, smut, love triangle, possessive, not rapey, seme is like the fucking hulk compared to uke, college, age gap, good art, muscular bodies, seme is adorable/romantic in sp chapters, sexual awakening, meeting the gang (in two ways!), FAINTS OF CUTENESS/HOTNESS, the memes after every chapter got me gagged, HAHE hahahahahahahahahaha, OMG DO I GET SOME CNC?! (update: short lived), we stan a vocal man (Ahjussi), thigh fucking, my mans be like my thighs hurt fuck my ass instead DECEASED, ass smacking, these memes are so good god damnit, rimming

8/10, I live for Ahjussi (Am I spelling this wrong..)

The New Employee 

-love love love

Tags: ongoing, we stan supportive boyfriends, healthy relationship, boss/employee, smut, office setting, good art, 10/10 will re-read, muscular bodies

Love Shuttle

Tags: completed, ABO, enemies to lovers, possessive, coworkers, fake relationship, strong omega, the art sucks but I like the story, art gets better after the 1st season, alphas eyes change colors when happy/anxious, muscular bodies, 7/10, update 10/10 art is meh but fml this storyline is basic af in the best way and it’s the fluff/smut I need, when you’re caught by the folks *cringe*

Hold Me Tight

Tags: ongoing, boss/employee, bodyguard, gio can’t feel heat until felix comes along, uke is strong af, horny bastards, smut, possessive, tragic childhood, moving in together right away, rich seme, felix in a bunny costume though *heart eyes*, dialogue is great, rape in a technical sense but the vibe is written like both characters are all good after? Ex. hospital scene…dub con, ART IS GREAT, hand holding during sex, 10/10 will re-read, muscular bodies

Yours to Claim 

Tags: ongoing, love triangle, Dom/sub dynamics, smut, main is big switch energy, reincarnation, jealousy, manipulative, possessive, self aware lead for the most part, toxic af, GREAT ART, college, rich semes, 10/10 will re-read and not even finished, SONOFABITCH that cliff hanger!! Season 3 come thruuuu (I have to wait until November? *cries* BUT MAH LOVE TRIANGLE!!, I want a THROUPLE GOD DAMN IT

The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation

Tags: obsessed with this story, will the incense burner scenes make it?? No tags because I'll never forget this one haha wangxian 5ever, send me all fanfics/fan art you have about this story, love Dark Wangji, Jadecest, ABO/omegaverse, Bottom Wangji/Top Wei Ying, and honestly anything regarding this fandom

Bj Alex

Tags: completed, great art, 11/10 will re-read, cam boy, fanboy, seme is an asshole, uke is so sexy, jealously, rich seme, enemies to lovers kind of?, CHANWOO IS MY BOY FOR LIFE, Chanwoo MD supremacy, BDSM (like really really), fuck I love Chanwoo, college students, rich seme, emotional rollercoaster, uke soft body, mean seme, college life, that one nosy bitch ass guy trying to expose my boys needs to fuck right off, seme split/fake personality, dub con 

Anti PT

Tags: ongoing, 11/10 re-readable, porn with feelings, love triangle, jealousy, attempted non-con, personal training wink wink, main love interest is actually the best, second male lead is a god damn creep, first time, smut, great art, sex addict/constantly horny uke, I WANT A HWI, 

Related: https://www.anime-planet.com/manga/anti-pt/recommendations 

Payback

Tags: ongoing, both are psychopaths tbh, revenge, gangs, uke sells himself to seme, violent seme, entertainment industry, brunette supremacy, what this motherfucker gonna do? hehe , great art, muscular bodies, dead dove do not eat, my mans must be GOOD looking/animal magnetism cause everyone losing their fucking minds, okay this is a comedy I’m dying, he tried to scare him with wanting to be a top but my psycho said REVERSEUNO BITCH I’M A VERSE (wait jk apparently *sigh*), anonymous masked sex (sad n’ kinky)

My Suha

Tags: ongoing, wow this gets dark, possessive af like holy shit, terrible people all around uke, rape, boss/employee, office politics/family politics, smut, characters that are punchable, dead dove do not eat, *velociraptor noises*, avoided this for a while but I’m back because nothing can be more emotionally devastating than Banana Fish, TIE HIM UP, FUCK HIS FACE ALKSJD:ASKD, FUCK SUHA UR SO HOT that dirty talk though YAS, glad I picked this back up lmao, GOD DAMN IT just when the package arrived then this red head fucker *screams*

Shame Application aka Dirty Vibration

Tags: completed, friends to lovers, model seme, cute af uke, love triangle, entertainment industry, smut, kink, all kinds of sex everywhere, realized feelings, mutual pining, jealousy, rich seme, blonde seme, big brother 1984 always watching, 10/10 would re-read, porn with plot, they were roommates!, ~straight~ seme, first times, great art, remembering some cringe but considering the story it’s par for the course

Will You Subscribe

Tags: ongoing, season 1 completed, enemies to lovers, cam boy, office politics, boss/employee, hiding a secret, public sex, stalkers/creepy men, emotionally stunted characters, mutual pining, idiots in lust, lingerie company, slut shaming, jealousy/possessiveness, season 2 bebeh, HOLDING HANDS *velociraptor noises*, LMAO okay my mans is not THAT old how tf does he not know netflix and chill, BUNNY COSTUME (quickly becoming my new fav trope in manga, A+ gang), oh we stan a good boy, wtf is wrong with wanting to do cam work, ‘I wish my marks could become permanent’ *omegaverse wink*, *works for lingerie company* *doesn’t understand where bf gets sexy costumes* like wut kind of fuckery…, cross dressing ftw, roleplay, classic BL miscommunication trope

Hyperventilation

Tags: completed, high school crush, unrequited love, mutual pining, smut, quickie (short story), class reunion, apparently furry with the extra chapter turning my man into a bunny but c'est la vie! https://myreadingmanga.info/korean-bl-animation-hyperventilation-engsub/ this is the animation of the same story, different endings but same in tone (this site is spammy AF but the English subs are so hard to find for this) 8/10 

Unmei no tsugai ga omae da nante

Tags: only one bed, ABO, office setting. Coworkers, enemies to lovers, competitive, equality in the omegaverse, dubcon, real dicks and not lightsabers, fated pair, art is cute af 8/10

K’s Secret

Tags: buckle up buttercup, dead dove do not eat, angst, pining, somnophilia, dub con, non con, boss/employee, manipulative, stalking, forced relationship, tragic childhood background, weird art but gets better,  uke: don’t threaten me with a good time but seriously stop threatening me, possessive & obsessive, seme is like the fucking hulk compared to uke, wow were going full psycho stalker hm?, dating a narcissist is all fun and (mind)games, con non con… ? honestly who tf knows, domestic!, OW MY HEART, the t/n WAP note sent me, ch 51 translated by gen z, do special ep= furry? Wait there’s a maid costume, bunny costume, directors friends keeping it real, rough translations 8/10

Enthusiasm

Tags: ongoing, dead dove do not eat, uke buys seme, masc boys, muscular bodies, fight club, master/slave, rich uke, revenge, real dicks not lightsabers, rough sex, cuckholding, daddy issues, suicide, wow the end of ch 5 punched a hole in my heart, penile implant life,  rough translations makes the storyline wonky, nvm back to lightsabers *star wars noises*, HAD ME FEELING SOME TYPE OF WAY I CAN NOT, shibari, possessive, wait this is cute *velociraptor noises*, angst, no kithes for you “bestie”, OBSESSED, honestly choke him pupper, STAY THE NIGHT ALKSDJA:SLDKJAS:LKDJA:SLDKj, problematic but I’m riding for these two, 

Ichimai Goshi Fetish

Tags: completed, short, fetishes DO start in childhood don’t they *ruminates*, author: describes ML as a beautiful 2D character meanwhile: ML IS 2D character, fellas is it gay to kiss the homies?, “real dudes don’t interest me” is a MOOD, comedy, jealousy, college setting, dialogue is A+, not lightsabers but not dicks either, first time, when you’re fucked so good you think you’ve died, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R4uEq5Nx6ko, hero/villain roleplay. Fluff n smut 10/10

My Purrfect Boss

Tags: completed, tooth rotting fluff because blondie is so FUCKING cute little sensitive soul, golden retriever boyfriend, pure comedy, DECEASED, MY MAN JUST DID THE SLOW BLINK, office setting, boss/employee, ~wasted~ (red dead redemption meme),  FFS SO CUTE, he put a ring on it right away beyonce would be proud af, he protecc he attack but most importantly he hit it from the back, jealousy, honeymoon phase of dating, the ex is a snake (update: oh wow literally), I’m picking up abuse/PTSD vibes based on how Kang reacts to his ex :(, classic BL miscommunication plot, immediately no meme audio (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o6XWSGfYnps) ,  I WILL STRAIGHT UP MURDER CHA WTF!!!!!!, gang rape, spiked with drugs that force heat, me rn:*screaming/rage*, psychotic ex/abuser, HE PROTECCC, actual relief after that scene jesus fuck, okay YES kings I see you, okay this is giving me cuteness aggression, hi yes I’d like to adopt a cat and a dog please 9/10

Following Namsoo to the Bathhouse

Tags: completed, same author as, “My Purrfect Boss”, A+ comedy once again, JUNIOR, gay awakening, “fap myself to death” DEAD, facial expressions are ridic, my minds telling me no but my body, my bodyyyy’s telling me yaaaaa, ya boy is literally losing his mind over this, actual lightsabers lmao, FLUFF, permasmile, 6969, THINKS THEY’RE GOING TO EAT RAMEN, dense gay, own your skin wtf okay hannibal calm down, everyone is officially cray,  ah I also am barfy when drunk, denial really is something hm, classic BL miscommunication plot, when people pleasing too far, happy ending 🥺🥰, side story: our crazy gets his very own crazy (ashton Kutcher from spread vibes), public sex, sex sparkle 9/10

Alien in my Closet

Tags: ongoing (maybe completed but def ongoing on the site I use), not rapey at all?? You’d think it’s impossible in this medium ffs, anti pt vibes, cute art, fluff ‘n smut, red head!!, they were roomates!, sex toys, bsdm, D/s (brat)dynamic or maybe owner/pet, bondage, *tiffany hadish voice* this is noiceeee, con humiliation/degradtion, SANTA CLAUS, edging, marking, one lotus please (he’s clearly read the 4 agreements and karma sutra), con non con, exhibitionism, the wrist thing stays on people, Katoptronophilia,  roleplay, is it stalking when you bring your friends?, lotus: welcome home cheater, the chin on the head thing gives me cuteness aggression, the twins are my favs, when ur crush vanilla af 😭, haesung: experiment on me daddy, no dick until halfway through/fingering supremacy, bedroom sessions has me gagged, voyeurism, wait they haven’t kissed this whole time I forgot (audio: https://www.tiktok.com/@ryley/video/6976701880277748997?lang=en), sunbae is sus, YES FINALLY A FUCKING SWITCH COUPLE AKJSDHALKSJDHASKLJDHALS KJDALKSJD (update: sort of), there’s a missed opportunity for an anal probe joke, damn it okay maybe sunbae is chill, 3 musketeers, my heart*implodes*, *velociraptor noises*, 12/10 would re-read such fluff my heart 

On Doorstep

Tags: completed, age gap, reese has ptsd, jimmy going from 0 to 100, jimmy really got down on his knees at work, ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) deepest part you say, real dicks, ride him like a rodeo, quickie/short story, porn with plot

Gorani Jeon

Tags: ongoing, omegaverse, no alpha though, animal hybrid, art is beautiful like it's drawn on paper not a screen, 40 inch weave yours came in a pack, historical (non-modern), lord send me a sexy man pls, the memes after each chapter are golden, taking the phrase licking wounds literally, is that an eggplant or are you just happy to see me hehe, ahhh so inhibitors do exist here, vertical 69, here lays Bau fucked to death by Ran, WHY HE TOUCHING MY MAN, these chickens are dope, stomp on his dick, that’s what I call a happy meal, fucked right out the front door I’M DEAD, mpreg, i need a tiger+mountain god spin off (whoops dad/son my bad), slice of life, cute fluff 8/10

Room to room

Tags: completed, college setting, A+ dialogue, absurd size difference, unrequited love,  sexsomina, dubcon, angst, death by a thousand cuts emotionally, insecurity, body envy, pining, friends to lovers, they were roommates!, homophobia, sexual assault, PTSD, gays in denial, the tattoo 🥺 ow my heart, truly this is 90% smut, “going from unrequited love to fwbs is shittier than I expected”, dowan *bad blood by t swift* when he sees garam, ch 22garam reminds me of my ex and that’s not a compliment, I’m not gay but my boyfriend is vibes, triflers need not apply, spanking, 😭😭😭😭😭 my heart hurts, is anyone getting a bit of a puppy play vibe? https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vni9ZWmDXis, handcuffs, lots of head we stan, dowan’s gotta a touch of a foot thing or maybe body worship thing, asdlfgkjs ;dlkfgjsd;flkgj;sdflkgj;sdlfgjs;d/gkdf SO CUTEEEEEEEEEEE, roleplay. They broke the bed no use of crying over spilled milk ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), side stories delivering man in uniform and sex toys AND puppy, asdlkjaslfkasdjfl;askdfjasdf the shirt thing is so hot, watersports, I take it back this is 98% smut 9/10

Mistake Lover

Tags: completed, when ur bff is back on their BS, love triangle, coworkers, i swear all these ukes look the same to me at this point (which is very cute), GE!!!! (wangxian flashbacks), wait no smut?.... Paused

Yagi to ookami no hatsujou jijou

Tags: completed, quickie/short story, literally on my reading list because a comment said “nice cock 10/10”hahahaha, animal hybrids, scifi/aliens, me during chapter one: am I a furry? No. Am I? Relevant audio https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=noJNIqvDfoo, hotties when human GOD DAMN, bi king, okay I stan this girl changing gears take your opportunities honey!, does blondie have a tinder or how is this happening? (update: called it), feminization, dubcon/noncon, marking, heats, idk about 10/10 cock but not lightsabers, translation is ruff (get it?), a yankee hahaha, literal wound licking, googles chimera, *claps* yes king selfish call his ass out, tail holding caaaayoooot, not that isn’t usually copious amounts of cum but really this is a lot 8/10

Make Me Bark

Tags: completed, $250 a month rent?? *cries in Californian*, god damn it these grey haired 2D men are really hot fml, “next months rent is a looming concern but I hope it’ll get better” followed by apartment on fire is how I feel about reality, rare characters that smile way more than they frown, sex toys, kink, puppy play, owner/pet dynamic, sugar daddy/baby, college setting, harness, muzzle, leash, tail plug, shirt thing!!, soaked briefs, playing barbie IRL, omg meet cute at the adult store, intercrural sex, possessive/jealousy, ah fuck yes I saw this panel on IG but it didn’t have the source but now hehe, whipping, choking, spanking, *bookmarks*, simp city, childhood friends, side couple cute af, yeonsoo: sorry I’m an anti romantic, size queen, mens lingerie, domestic, mutual pining,  these bestie pairings are *chefs kiss*, skinny but muscular bodies/no ridiculous size differences, “does he have a big dick?” “probably” “well tell him to come” GAGGED AJKSDHALSKDJHA this dialogue pure comedy, exhibitionism, human auction, maid costume, men in heels, topping in a dress, girl at the bus stop HAHAHA, ffs this is so cute, side stories: it’s a small world afterall, dynamic role reversal, pink haired boy is guru, SCREAMING AKDJA:SLDKJA:LKDJA:LSDKJLAKDJA:LDJAL:SKDJASLKDJA:SLKDJLAKSDJLASDJ:LASJD:ALSKDJASL:DJ:ASLJDPUTARINGONIT!!!! 11/10 

Gurume no fukurami

Tags: completed, quickie/short story, food fetish, feeding fetish, age gap, throuple-eqsue? There’s 3 people involved, paused ch 1 pg 30

Under the Green Light

Tags: ongoing, thank you IG for rec’ing this, brunette supremacy, neurodivergent?, lmao @hag, this statue is everything I wonder if it’s based on a real piece?, we went from talking art to being pinned to the ground REAL quick, translations rough but not as rough as my mans here, draw me like one of your french girls vibe, sass master, these dicks are ridiculously huge which is saying something for this genre, i love a verse/switch, “first time he’s asked someone to stop so his self-esteem is hurt” HAHAHAHA, stealing bae’s shirt, facials galore, car sex/public sex, jin not into praise kink clearly, sort of slut shaming jealousy, marking

Walk on Water

Tags: completed, for being about porn it’s not that smutty (i take it back), “don’t even think about running away” got me like https://giphy.com/gifs/VABbCpX94WCfS, actual dicks (lightsabers later must be the cleaners not the OG), muscular bodies, blonde seme, brunette uke, k mcqueen is everything, honestly haven’t loved a couple this much since chanwoo x MD and I LOVE THEM, jealousy, orgasm denial, the angles/frames of the art in this are insane (11/10), emotional intimacy CUTENESS HASIHDLASKDHJLAKSJDH, i wanna lick lick lick you from your head to your toes, dirty talk A+, bestie you turned out to be Judas you judgy fuck how dare you touch my man, Ryan is 50 shades of fucked up bb needs therapy, Chang and yeowoons sexual tension is *chefs kiss*, I ship it/all my ships sailing, woof non con but expected tbh, YEAH BABY YEAH *Austin powers voice*, fml I don’t want this story to end, meeting the Hets ™ would make me nervous too, spiderman kith, mirror sex sjkadfhasldjkfh, 34+35, JOI but with a partner? Not D/s, promises are made to broken hehe, that feeling when you understand the title, omg the fan art is so cool!! 15/10 would re-read seriously I can’t explain how well the artist used angles/how she portrayed the scenes was fucking MASTERFUL

Woof Wolf

Tags: that's my best friend (saweetie), red heads, werewolf au, college setting, students, shoot a shot in your mouth while I'm riding, facials, marking

Sexual Awakening of an Ex Delinquent 

Tags: completed, quickie/short story, sexual coercion/non con/dub con, tiddies, bondage, nipple play, edging/orgasm denial, candy in ass wow, food kink, kink in general, rich seme working class uke, lightsabers,  big dick Jesus fuck, exhibitionism, public sex, men's lingerie, Blondie is a sweet baby angel, self hatred/homophobia, sexual narrating that has me like oof 😣 that's not how this works but okay, the sweet spots thing is a great line, man is a slave to the sweets, lmao at the meme at the end of ch 9 fucking facts, kidnapping plot, rapey guys all around this story, tattoo/back story reveal has me like *nods head yes*, my throats broken has me gagged, crazy amount of sfx noises that distract from the art (I really appreciate cleaners I realize), first times, rushed ending feels,  would rate 6/10 not terrible but probably won't read again.  

With Your Tail Yes

Tags: ongoing, IG rec, quickie/short story, on man brunette looks EXACTLY like a different character by another artist like for real duplicate, home boy pulled Elle Wood’s Bend n Snap and we are HERE FOR IT, lingerie/cross dressing, okay compilation of short stories, great artwork but wtf these are far too short (maybe uploaded wrong..?), *immediately makes deal with the devil because yum*, ah okay previews THEN stories, human animal hybrid situation, lightsabers, fucking imagine your crush delivery the sex toy you ordered online HAHA *dies*, buys toys because men ain’t shit is a VIBE, you know he’s always wearing matching sets because he’s 100% that bitch, dub con/non con, knotting (unexpected), exhibitionism, public sex, good ol’ fashion blackmail to get your lover to stay with you trope, sexual assault/attempted rape, victim blaming, shibari, leashes, D/brat dynamic sort of, copious amounts of cum, lube? What lube?, marathon sex, first time, 75 hours?? Immediately no meme, 7/10 mostly for art/concepts but not execution

Heat and Run

Tags: ongoing, IG rec, omegaverse, friends to enemies to lovers, multiple couples as main to sides then sides to mains, my heart dropped because I thought the first sex scene was incest but then realized I’m mixing up all the characters derp, dense gays, this is america (the shooting comment WOOF reality feels bad man), blondes have more fun, real dicks, dubcon/CNC dealers choice, mutual pining, idiots in love, big alpha energy BDE, there are moments I feel Hayoung on a spiritual level and not sure that’s a compliment hahaha, orgasm denial/edging, istg if he bonded without Hayoung permission *jenna marbles BOIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII YOU BETTAH NOT*, also I was hoping the idol was him but realizing it’s probs his sis, *deep sigh*, BDIRL, wow racism, oh no oh no no no no no meme audio, listen everyone needs to get into therapy to break that generational trauma is all I’m saying (not excusing abuse at all, trauma isn’t a free pass), NO ONE WANTS TO PLAY A GAME WITHOUT KNOWING THE RULES :ALKSDHJALKSDJA:SLKDJTRUE, matthew singing bo burnham: I’m problematic *background singers ‘he’s a problem!’*, i ship it yolo, JAEHO STAN (no means no!), mpreg, god damn it I am so worried about him getting roofie and the party scene hasn’t even started ABO WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TOO ME, OH THANK JAEHO, dayummmm that clapback was real fuck him UP, me clapping: MARK HIM MARK HIM, GOD DAMN IT WITH THESE ONGOING FUCKING CLIFF HANGERS FML, marked via knotting? Okay that’s new, but also like normal marking I think, fucking til bottom pees trope

Heaven Officials Blessing

Animated series season 1 complete. Live action currently filming (same director as Untamed too UGH SO HAPPY)

Tags: ongoing, same author as my fav ever MDZS, just finished season 1 animated on netflix and can no longer avoid this because I LOVE THEM, all the memes on IG make sense now, Prince voice: Dearly Beloved (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aXJhDltzYVQ) we are gathered here today to dive deeper into a fandom I will never escape, ART IS AMAZING (https://tenor.com/view/incredible-talented-lady-brilliant-gaga-gif-14857187), group chats are always chaotic tbh, wait a minute meme audio: bride = bottom? How tf did I not get that the first time round *sigh* always hoping for a verse couple, the asst. Boys I ship hard, the sass, fuck this is going to just be pure angst isn’t it *straps in, has fluffy manga queued*, even if no smut 11/10 gege porn, not subtle, god FUCK this ART IS SO FUCKING GOOD THE TALENT skjas;ldkfja;, 🥺, traumatic cliff moment *mdzs flashbacks*, HC smirk is my new favorite thing, no fucking but lots of touching, size difference, horror, gore, wuxia, great side characters, my ear feels tingly too lmao, SOMEONE BETTER GET THESE MF SNAKES ON THIS MF PLANE (cliff), umbrella moments got me uwu, gimme at least didi pleaseandthankyou, FUCK I LOVE THIS ARTIST she keeping us WELL fed with these extras DAYUM, wind/earth master ship please sail, CALL ME DADDY IM DEAD, HC has LWJ energy like you are not qualified to talk to me LOL, WAIT this totally counts as there was only one bed trope, also I’m already excited about omegaverse ff (send me recs please please please)

4 week lovers

Tags: ongoing because apparently I want to torture myself, mutual pining/”unrequited love”, college life, friends to lovers, blackmail ur crush into sex trope, public sex, I was going to tag possessive body language but possessive in a general sense apparently (starting strong yessss), sure jan @unrequited love dialogue, THEY WERE ROOMMATES *cackles*, sus haha, rough translation, pure comedy, shirt thing!, casual abuse :( (back story, traumatic childhood), I’m getting TharnType vibes (but not quite…), that note is precious, cry during/after sex, great angles, dialogue A+ 

Burlesque Night

Tags: completed, quickie/short story, stripper/body guard, coworkers, lust at first sight, magic mike vibes, fridays = getting fucked on stage O-O, well that was traumatizing af, took a bullet, real dicks, LDR, CUTE, I’m not in love with you… sure jan, OH WOW MASTER dlksaj;alsdkja;lsdkja;sld, gay awakening/first time, the art detail is *chefs kiss*, disappointed but not surprised :( :( :(, we stan a yes and lover, shirt thing, still not sure wtf the vertical anus thing is but full circle moment haha, you know what fuck it I’d re-read this 9/10

My one and only cat

Tags: ongoing, cat hybrids, god damn it I’m totally in furrydom ffs, ah well here we go, idol hot = loneliness wahhh /s, so hot he literally transforms other beings, omg a cat cafe CUTE, fuck that cat is cute *so fluffy*, stalker status, comedy, real dicks, I think the uncle would be supportive/jealous even I hope they talk about it I’m dying to know his thoughts, big tiddies, if this ain’t the cutest shit FLUFF/SMUT, copious amounts of cum, ate it with the panties on, CAKE, xmas, his milkshakes bring all the boy(cats) to the yard, trifling bitch

Imitation Mate

Tags: completed, omegaverse, alpha x alpha. Class rivals YAS, childhood frans, enemies to lovers omg this is all the shit I want, manipulation 1000 but yolo I ship it

Mr. 100% Perfect

Tags: ongoing, so relatable, OCD?, hoarder, when I read the title I thought mental illness and I was right, masks ugh RELATABLE, getting back together w ex, woof sibling drama/manipulation, suicide attempt, omg their communication regarding the psycho is REFRESHING, OMG JEJU ISLAND I see it in every fucking kdrama ever but this is the first time I’ve seen it mentioned in a manga *hm* interesting, furry furry everywhere, eye contact, finished reading season 1 pause for an omergaverse cause, okay I’m back and season 2 starting STRONG #1 men are gross #2 mans just went right to a blowie while mf was trying to pee lmao i can NOT the germs barf, fuckboi extraordinaire stressing over a textback is *great*, that istg face is perfect, HYUNGGGG, hand on his heart OW MY HEART, vibe check LOL, here for this plot dev, END OF SEASON2 NOOOOOOOimnotready. Head bonks CUTE

The origin of species

Tags: ongoing, omegaverse, sex tape, blackmail, i already don’t like this teacher, size difference, ‘JUST DIE’ hahahahahaha, I’m in love with noona, wait Ahjussi means uncle/mister? Dangerous convenience store has a new meaning to me now, DECEASED @they won’t, copious amounts of cum, alcohol to have intimacy *sighs in early 20s*, also WTF THEY ARE FUCKING AND THERE’S NO PHERMONE STUFF! What’s the point of being ABO without smell *swaggy p meme???*, wait okay ch 11 it begins, stockholm syndrome but since childhood I’m fairly certain *looking at you teacher I don’t trust these mfs*, dubcon obviously, also the can’t be knotted thing has me *cardi b meme that’s weird that’s sus* obvs poor bb about to get preg af, five word horror story: I won’t hurt you again *why tf you lyinggggg why u always lyinggg meme*, white collar crime, what’s the point of a contract when there’s no actual choice

How to Chase an Alpha

Tags: ongoing, lowkey been avoiding this one not because I think it’ll be bad I just..idk the brain is a weird thing, page 2 and I love mains attitude fucking gagged sass me bb, starting with rough translation but it be that way sometimes, GROUNDS HIMSELF BY TOUCHING HIS BLACK CARD I CANTTT, pheromone city fuck it UP, MC is a MOOD, mutual pining, when u and bae both hire PI’s to get info on each other, R-E-S-P-E-C-T, shirt thing, fucking chuffed about the rival fucking bring it, funny art, cheated on ugh mah heart I saw it coming and it still hurt, pure comedy this airport scene is so funny to me wtf, LDR, good ol murica fuckboi, LOVE HIM RIDE FOR UR MAN/MORALS, liams a little rapey rapist hm? No one’s ever said no… well being flooded with pheromones isn’t consent my dude, istg liam = I love it when they struggle, obvs jealousy/possessive tag but such is ABO, cat suit, BUNNY suit, sexy costumes, god damn it I love them that proposal/mpreg so cute, imprinting AW, ugh baes fam is so cute I needed that bc I wanna strangle wooyoungs dad, THE SECETARY is my fucking fav never stops being A+, SEC+LIAM?? Here for it *i ship it*, FUCK SO CUTE 12/10 re-read, fluff n smut, excited for how to chase an omegaside story hyung needs love!, JINI is mood, sales king I’m dying, that collar is ~hot~ btw

Egoism

Tags: completed (because jesus I can’t with ongoing, theheartbreakTM), UPDATE FML THE HEART BREAK IS REAL also no smut, omegaverse, hey stepbro, starts with rape, possessive/jealousy (isn’t all ABO?), age difference (6years, alpha is younger *can I get hyung plz lord*), HYUNG, woof this dad SUCKS, child abuse, rape culture *sigh*, I wanna get jacked like rick and summer and beat tf out of the dad, me n my cat, TELL EM HONEY I love this MC, traitor indeed, beta x omega btw, fated pair, coercive sex, didi going to be his own demise, BREAKUP/TIME SKIP NO this is BL hell, the rona is mentioned in this, ALL I WANT IS TO HEAR YOUR STORY WAHHHHHHHHHH also YES MY SHIP IS GOING TO SAIL I CAN FEEL IT, okay honestly frustrating a bit but also liked it yah 7-8/10, won’t re-read unless I’m looking for hurt though cause the comfort is BRIEF

Yarichin bitch bu

Tags: ongoing, reading because I watched this anime after seeing it mentioned in the comment section of -im-being-harassed-by-the-sexiest-man-of-the-year, anime was 2 eps a fucking wild the way this is uploaded SUCKS, no reality porn what plot rape-y ridiculous and now I need to read the source apparently haha, I need to know much more about yuri and blue hair guy ASAP (they have the spin off*adds to list*), high school setting, smut, studentsxstudents/teachers, photography club my ass, sex toys, kinky, crossdressing, gay awakening, unrequited love, jealousy, fake relationship, two faced people, OCD, COMEDY, rich people problems, hoarder, inferiority complex, one bed, toono is a dumbass in this love triangle or denial might be a better word, they are cousins my dude stop shipping it (I say to both toono and myself LOL), I wanna see Yuri’s face laksdjf;aldskf, vibrator #18 line is fucking iconic, yaguchi is about to get real interesting (BPD?), lies/manipulation, oh toono you sweet summer child, YURI i can’t wit chu, wait did he just punch the student because he won’t kiss him or???, dubcon/noncon obvs, finally my verse couple but they’re not a couple (yuri/tamu), they all care about each other is a weird way awwww, love confessions to pet vibrator scene are ICONIC MY DUDES I CAN NOTTT, lowkey living for Yuri’s drooling at this point, Jimi gives me such bad second hand embarrassment, Yuri the switch verse bb I’ve been looking for need more!, internalized homophobia, blackmail, MIDDLE FINGER IN THE AIR YAS KING, the heartbreak of ongoing/hasn’t been updated in years

Yarichin bitch bu dj wa

Tags: not completed I think, years old though, see above you know what it is, so cute omg, FIRST KISS AW, degradation kink?, MY VERSE COUPLE I’ve finally found you, biting, choking, rough sex, sex toys, they had fun together for another two hours DECEASED

Fucked by my Best Friend

Tags: ongoing, friends to lovers, body swap, Porn what plot, cannon threesomes in past maybe??(MFF for sure but MMF??), beach life, revenge, he became a HOT woman so honestly get over it, sloppy seconds, first off you’re both sluts second lmao this is going to be wild hm?, fellas is it gay if you kiss the homies, classic did you cum guy jfc, that’s how you get preg dumbass, ah the joys of being a woman /s assault in der clrub, *DEEP SIGH* @ you almost being raped turns me on, YES TURNING BACK DYING, gender has nothing to do with this LOL but true. Also yes cannon threesomes/orgies, googles frotting, mans like narrating playtime, intecurial sex public sex, lingerie, this is the closest thing to straight manga I’ve read hahaha, THE SCIENCE OMG FUCKING RIDIC :you need a mass amount of semen within you SURE JAN, possessive. Objectification, she trying to fuck without Shion LMAO, 34+35, do you think he’s on r/nofap, dry orgasm honestly impressed with mans rn ngl, spit as lube, anal fingering, just helping the homies find their prostate, bottom shaming (disappointed but not surprised), bis/gays in denial smh, question if he has a wet dream will he turn into a woman?, shirt thing, lol at female orgasm =anal in switcharoos mind, paging doc perv, shion is enjoying dressing up hm? Same dude, biggest reality gap is believing shion got admitted to a college HAHA, bad anatomy all over the place dude, rui is a dedicated exhibitionist, HE SO TIGHT BECAUSE THERES NO LUBE team no lube over here apparently not even a courtesy spit, yandere territory sort of?, Mayu with the dick wet comment is *chefs kiss*, THE HEARTBREAK OF ONGOING WAHHH I can’t believe I read all this but I can? 8/10 problematic possessive porn

[unibrowzz]

omg what happened at Vidbir 2019?

Short answer: Nobody wanted to rep them so they had to withdraw from the whole competition

Long answer: Fuck me where to begin 😂

Okay so it wasn't so much an issue with the show itself, the song that won was actually pretty popular amongst fans, so there was no voting fuckery as far as I'm aware of. The problems came with the fact the artist they picked was signed to a Russian label and had a Russian tour coming up. Ukraine's Vice PM then decided to wade in and state that Ukrainian artists who toured in Russia were basically traitors and shouldn't be repping Ukraine at Eurovision.

It should also be noted that contestants were grilled on their political stances throughout the Vidbir final. I remember it getting memed on a fair bit.

The day after the final, Ukraine's broadcaster UAPBC presented the winner (Maruv) with a contract, one of the terms of which was to cancel her upcoming Russian tour (AFAIK there were other things too, including the fact she'd have to foot her entire trip to Tel Aviv herself. Flights, accommodation, transport, visas, etc, everything would have to come out of her own pocket). Maruv, not wanting to be treated like some kind of political puppet, refused to sign the contract, and therefore relinquished her status as Ukraine's Eurovision contestant for 2019.

But wait! There's more!

Undeterred, UAPBC asked the runners up (Freedom Jazz) whether they'd represent Ukraine instead. They also rejected, citing the fact that their lead singer was pregnant and due around the time of the contest... though most people also suspect they didn't want to sign the contract either.

Third place Kazka also rejected the offer.

Aaaaand the fourth place (Brunettes Shoot Blondes) rejected the offer before they could even be asked. Over Instagram as well, iirc.

By this point UAPBC realised that nobody who'd competed in Vidbir that year was willing to represent them, especially as Maruv had posted the terms of the now-infamous contract to her social media for all the world to see.

And so they withdrew from the whole damn thing because nobody wanted to compete for them.

Tl;dr don't do politics, kids

[blackacre13]

Part 2 for Bird Box AU pleaseee 😬

Part 2 is here so here is part three for you!!

Hearts still racing, Debbie was throwing her shoes on as Lou unlocked the door before throwing Debbie behind her protectively as she headed out into the hallway, other runaways poking out from several rooms with confused and concerns faces and whispers.

The scream came again. Debbie’s stomach started churning as she heard thudding. Pounding. The same sound she heard at the hospital as the woman banged her head against the window.

“It’s Daphne,” Debbie whispered weakly behind Lou as the blonde nodded. Taking her word for it without hesitation.

“Daphne!” Lou called out, starting down the stairs slowly. “Daphne, close your eyes! Close them now. Right now!”

“It’s Rose,” the brunette breathed, continuing to slam her head against the wall.

Debbie closed her eyes tight, tucking her head against Lou’s shoulder so she wouldn’t be tempted to look up as she started to cry, listening to Daphne.

Debbie prayed that Lou’s eyes were closed as she felt her continue forward slowly.

And then the heart-wrenching pounding stopped and Debbie could’ve sworn she heard the wind change and some dark force or feeling leaving the room.

“Daphne?” She whispered. “Anyone?”

“Keep your eyes closed,” Lou whispered, her hand finding Debbie’s slowly and squeezing tight. “I’m gonna look around. If I start doing something that’s—“

“I’ll block your sight,” Debbie nodded. “Promise.”

There was silence between them except for the sound of someone else shuffling into the room.

“Fuck,” someone whispered. Debbie knew it was Constance from the voice. “What the fuck? Did she smash her skull into the wall?”

“Afraid so,” Lou mumbled. “Jesus, it was the cameras. The bloody security footage. They got her through the fucking security cameras. It’s not just the windows.”

“Guess we better start wearing blindfolds all the time,” Constance muttered.

“Let’s head back upstairs,” Lou decided. “We’ll move her body tomorrow.”

Debbie winced. Her body. Not Daphne. Not anymore. And here they were in her house. Here she was kissing Lou like the world wasn’t on fire. Like they couldn’t die at any moment. But then, wasn’t that all the more reason to take advantage of what opportunity they had? While they were together. While they were alive.

Debbie felt Lou’s hands on her hips, guiding her up the steps back to the bedroom they were sharing. The door closed behind them and the blonde twisted the lock as Debbie sat down on the bed, slowly letting her eyes open.

“I’m sorry,” Lou whispered. “Maybe we shouldn’t have—“

“Don’t say that,” Debbie smiled sadly. “Maybe the timing was wrong. But didn’t it feel so right?”

“Debbie,” the blonde started, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

The brunette nodded sharply. “Never mind. Got it.”

“No, Debbie,” Lou sighed. “It’s not like that. Let’s just—shit just got real. I think this whole day is starting to catch up with me and I just—I just—“

Suddenly, Lou was shaking, burying her head in her hands as Debbie rushed to her side, one hand on her lap, the other rubbing her back.

“Hey, hey,” Debbie whispered, concern and sympathy completely taking over. “This is batshit, never-in-a-lifetime fuckery. It’s more than okay to lose it.”

“I don’t think I’ve cried in the last ten years,” Lou chuckled, wiping at her face. “Fuck, I could use a cigarette.”

“Now, I know I haven’t done that in ten years,” Debbie laughed. “I’m not letting you open a window to smoke one of those.”

“Really brings a whole new level to the whole cigarettes will kill you thing,” Lou chuckled darkly. “Hey,” she spoke softly. “Thanks, Debbie.”

“Of course,” the Ocean smiled, squeezing Lou’s thigh. “Let’s try to get some sleep. Even if it feels a bit backwards right now.”

They climbed under the covers again, letting the dark of the night provide a comfortable shadow over Debbie’s nervous smile as Lou tucked herself against the woman’s back, cradling her in her arms, her hands gentle on her stomach as she spooned her. Soft lips finding Debbie’s shoulder.

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

Debbie awoke to warm arms wrapped around her. Holding her tight. Protectively. And the sound of birds. So many birds. She found herself wondering if even the birds knew what was happening outside in the world. Wondered if they could help warn herself and others.

She blinked a few times, adjusting to the dim room, smiling at the feeling of Lou still holding her, having never let go or changed positions during the night. The woman stirred behind her slightly, but not enough that Debbie felt comfortable waking her yet. She slowly tried to shift in her arms so that she remained in Lou’s secure embrace, but was looking up at her. Eyelids soft. Lips slightly open. Steady, quiet breathing. The brunette found herself wishing she could kiss Lou awake. Or even head down the street to pick up some coffee or bagels to have waiting for her.

“Morning,” Lou whispered, starting Debbie, who had been so focused on Lous lips, she had missed her eyes fluttering open.

“Morning,” Debbie repeated, a smile on her own lips. “Ready to play some high stakes Mario kart?”

“You know it.”

Constance and Nine were the only ones who agreed to come along for the ride. Literally. Debbie had found keys to a car on the wall by the front door. The four women made sure they were blindfolde d before even stepping foot into the garage, in case there was any sort of window or glass in the room they could lay their eyes on.

“You ready?” Debbie asked nervously from the passenger seat. She felt around the dashboard of the garage, smiling when she felt a small screen. “There’s a gps.”

“Ready,” Lou breathed. She felt around above her head for the visor, trying to find a button for the garage door.

Assuming the garage had opened all the way from the noise, Lou turned the key in the ignition and took a long, deep breath before stepping on the gas lightly and backing out of the driveway.

“I hope you all have your seatbelts on,” Lou whispered. “And that at least one of you leads a very lucky life.”

Debbie felt around on the dashboard, randomly clicking buttons until she heard a familiar guide voice.

“Groceries,” Debbie demanded nervously as her hand found Lou’s thigh to her left.

“Calculating,” the digital voice announced. “Nearest grocery store. Seven minutes away.”

“Gonna be the longest seven fucking minutes of our life,” Lou breathed, choosing to turn right into what she hoped was the street, completely blinded.

“Continue straight for 600 feet. Then make a left,” the voice announced.

“You’ve got this,” Debbie whispered.

Lou crept forward, her foot barely on the gas as the women collectively held their breaths.

“Does that feel like 600 feet?” Nine laughed.

“Fuck if I know,” Lou growled. “Any other stops today for our errands?”

“Actually,” Debbie gulped. “Is there a pet store near this grocery store?”

“Shit! We gonna steal a puppy?!” Constance asked. Debbie and Lou didn’t need to be blindfold free to know the other women were each rolling their eyes.

[consumedkings-archive]

@shallow-gravy jess..... jess jess jess...... where do i even begin huh? what do i even say? you are the sweetest, the most obnoxiously talented, and i just!! hm!! i just really adore you all to tiny bits and pieces. merry christmas my beloved friend, thank you so much for all of your love and support and listening to my ramblings, for loving my girl elliot, for letting me gush over diana. the list really do be endless!! i could probably wax poetic about how grateful i am to have made a friend as wonderful as you, but in the interest of time, i will just say: thank you thank you thank you! and merry christmas!

ii. a venom dripping in your mouth

elliot honeysett/john seed/deputy diana baker, the unholy trinity, in full-fledged terroristic force. this is pure self-indulgent trash, and i can’t believe this is an acceptable christmas gift to give you but i so hope you like it! 

canon? who is she. i don’t know her. herald!elliot au, largely canon divergent but like it doesn’t REALLY matter bc i don’t go into detail that much. idk man just roll with it

words: 8.8k because i’m incapable of having any Chill

warnings: naughty language, some blood warnings, mentions of past trauma. nothing super explicit but like idk when elliot and john set their sights on diana i do think they need a warning of their own lmao. also, i guess i should warn i don’t know how anything works ever and don’t come for me, don’t drag me, this is supposed to just!!! be fun!!! thanks!!!

“Who the fuck is that?”

Burke’s crossing the street with Pratt and the rookie in tow. Diana drags a few feet ahead, smoking and attempting to not be a part of the conversation, which is hard to do when there’s only a handful of them at the office anyway.

Pratt glances up at the blonde they’re about to pass. She’s propped against the hood of a jeep, the hem of her daisy dukes barely reaching mid-thigh, taking a long drag of a cigarette. He notices the head of a snake tattoo coming down her thigh. It’s hot; the air is buzzing with bugs and heat from the midday sun, and Burke can feel the sweat collecting in the hollow of his collarbones and at the nape of his neck.

From here Burke can tell she’s not looking at them—she’s looking at Diana. Hungrily.

“Elliot Honeysett,” Pratt replies, keeping his voice low, and he spits on the ground. “John’s wife. Fucking psycho.”

Ah. A Seed, Burke thinks, with no absence of venom. A Seed but with her own last name. An uninteresting but unexpected detail.

“You know her, rookie?” Burke asks, looking over at Diana. The brunette stares at him and drops her cigarette to the ground, grinding it out with her shoe.

“No,” Diana replies shortly. “I’m not from here.”

She says it like that’s supposed to explain it, like that’s going to make it make sense why the blonde’s eyes are fixed on her, and of course it doesn’t.

“I went to school with her,” Pratt offers up, and Burke looks at him curiously.

“Yeah? She a psycho then, too?”

“Nah.” The deputy crosses his arms over his chest, refusing—pointedly—to look at Elliot even once after identifying her the closer they get. “John made her that way.”

Diana’s been quiet, lighting up a second cigarette, when she says, “I dunno. To join a cult you've probably gotta have that shit in you all along.”

Burke makes a low noise of agreement. He watches Elliot wiggle her fingers at Diana in a little wave as the cluster of them nears, flashing a most pretty smile; at first glance, he thinks that the blonde looks more bubblegum than cyanide, all curled hair tucked up in a high pony and red cupid’s-bow lips and white, white teeth.

“Howdy, deputy,” she calls, Southern drawl honeyed.

Diana visibly grimaces, pointedly pushing her gaze forward and fixing it on the office. There’s a split second where Burke thinks he sees something flash across her face, but she’s stuffed it down and the sharp lines of her expression smooth out.

And then Elliot looks at him. Burke waves, but he doesn’t smile—it’s not meant to be nice, it’s meant to relay the message that he sees her. When she regards him expectantly, he goes ahead and greets, “Mrs. Seed."

I fucking know you. No surname fuckery is going to throw Burke off the scent. There are so many boogeymen and monsters in the world that don’t want you to know their name, and he thinks Elliot Honeysett might be one of them.

She doesn’t stop smiling at the misnaming, necessarily—her expression smooths out into mild amusement—and then she opens her mouth and pushes the lit end of her cigarette onto her tongue. Pratt says, under his breath, “Jesus Christ,” and Burke thinks he can hear the sizzle for a split second before it’s out, and then she tosses the cigarette to the side.

“Marshal,” she greets him, and he slows his walk for just a moment. “Lookin’ a little flush. You not used to the hot weather, honey?”

“It’s cooling off up in D.C.,” he replies, keeping his tone conversational despite the urge to punch those pearly whites in, “but I used to come here every summer. Nothing I can’t handle.”

Elliot smiles. It’s all teeth. Burke thinks about how most animals do that as a threat. “Good. I’d hate for you to be uncomfortable.” And then her gaze turns to Pratt, and she says flatly, “Pratt.”

“Honeysett,” Staci returns, and he might not have been able to sound more disingenuous, but it’s well-deserved—the blonde makes no effort to hide her disdain. She rolls her eyes, mouth twisting in amusement before she swings around the front of her jeep and into the driver’s seat.

Like he can’t resist the blatant dismissal, Pratt tacks on, “Tell the hubby I said hello.”

The engine revs. Burke watches her pop a pair of blue shades on, leaning against the rolled-down window. “Eat shit, bud,” Elliot says, and smiles just before she kisses the air in Burke’s direction and pulls a hard u-turn. The tires squeal on sizzling pavement, and she waves at them through her open window before she speeds off.

Burke watches the receding vehicle and says, “They all that peachy? Can I plan on Joseph being a fuckin’ breeze?”

“Fuckin’ whatever,” Pratt says, biting the words out as Diana swings the door open. “She’s all golden princess until you get close enough to see she’s picking the wings off of flies. Why’s she so interested in you, rookie?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Diana snaps. “I don’t know what goes on in that psycho’s brain.”

Burke grimaces.

“Might do well to find out,” he says, “before we learn the hard way.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“John.”

He makes a low noise, staring at the map stretched out before him; it’s his first mistake, because Elliot has never been very patient when she has something to say, and this time is no different. She ducks under his arm and settles herself on the table, on the map, effectively breaking his eyesight with the thing which is keeping him perfectly and completely unfocused on her.

“Do you remember what you said to me when we got married?” she asks him, her voice suspiciously light and unfettered by the usual components of her timbre—like venom, or sharpness. Elliot skims her fingers along the skin exposed by the undone buttons of his shirt.

He watches her. She’s up to something. “I remember every single thing I’ve ever told you,” he replies, stifling his amusement, “and I said many things. Which are you referring to?”

“Pick one and try.”

The neckline of her tank top brushes the bottom of her Wrath scar, the jagged lines marring what was otherwise perfectly unblemished skin. What game are you playing? he thinks, but not without affection, digging his thumb past those little shorts she likes so much. “How about... ‘I can’t wait to rip this fucking dress off of you’?”

“Try again.”

Ah, so that kind of game. Not the sexy kind. “‘I’m going to give you anything you want’?” He says it with a border of cautioning, because Elliot doesn’t cash that line in very often, but when she does it’s almost always for something big. She’s in a mood tonight, this wife of his, the kind of mood that he’d normally like to take advantage of if he wasn’t busy trying to make sure they keep eyes on the Marshal.

Elliot beams at him. “You know me so well, handsome,” she murmurs, and tugs him down by the front of his shirt for a kiss; luxurious, open-mouthed, and slick, and then against his mouth she says, “I want the deputy.”

“For what?” John asks. “Dinner? She’s been around that Marshal, who’s almost certainly here for something to do with Joseph.” When the blonde blinks at him, as if this has no bearing on her request, he barks out a laugh. “You’re asking too much.”

“You said anything.” Elliot pulls back to look at him, fingers still fisted in his shirt.

“I did,” he says, slowly.

“So,” the blonde murmurs silkily, “get her for me.” And then, as though she is the most gracious: “Consider her a belated wedding gift.”

John exhales out of his nose. He’s hard-pressed to say no to Elliot, but he’s got the sneaking suspicion that this is one of the instances where he should. It’s not like Elliot ever asks for anything that’s really unreasonable—not usually—but this? He could get her just about anyone, and she wants Diana Baker?

“For what?” he asks again, brows furrowing as Elliot undoes the rest of the buttons of his shirt so that she can drag her nails against his abdomen. “What could you want the rookie deputy for, hm?”

“Does it really matter?” she prompts, looking up at him through her lashes, and he thinks no, not really, but he knows better.

“Yes,” he replies, the corner of his mouth ticking upward. “It does matter. Really. I’m going to have to pitch this to Joseph and Jacob.”

“I like her,” Elliot says without hesitation. That’s how it always goes—John will push as long as he has to, until he doesn’t anymore, because they always give each other what they want. In the end. “And we could use her.”

He scans her face. Elliot doesn’t say she likes someone without merit. He’s come to trust that she’s got an eye for people, even if he can’t always see it—and he doesn’t see it, not really, in a fresh-in-town junior deputy that’s in over her head.

For a second, he thinks about it; it wouldn’t be the first time that they’ve allowed a third party, but it would be one of few times that she’s chosen, which is different in and of itself. If he knows her at all—and he does—she doesn’t usually pick unless she intends to keep them around for a long while.

“I’ll consider it,” John says finally. “After tomorrow.”

A smile curves her mouth. She slides her arms around him and kisses his sternum, just beneath his own sin, revealed—a pair, the two of them, closer than just lovers.

“That’s all I ask,” Elliot murmurs sweetly as his thumb sweeps the slope of her cheekbone.

It’s not, John thinks, but he thinks it with love, because he does—he loves his wretched little viper, this monster that looks at him through her eyelashes and says things like, I want her, so get her for me.

It’s not all you ask, but that’s just fine.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Absolutely not.”

Jacob is the first to speak after John’s proposition, which is not uncommon. The eldest brother does tend to be the most unforgiving, John finds, of his wife’s aspirations; even though, between all of his siblings, Elliot and Jacob get along the best.

John heaves a sigh. “Elliot is convinced that the deputy can be of use to us, if she’s allowed to—”

“Your wife,” Joseph interrupts, “shows a great lack of self-control asking such a thing.”

John bites back the gut-instinct response—that Elliot shows the most control for asking, rather than just taking what she wants, because as a woman capable of it, she can—and instead swallows back, “She would like to serve the Project, Joseph. In this way.”

“Maybe I wanted the deputy,” Jacob drawls. “Didn’t you ever think of that?”

Turning his gaze to his eldest brother, John says, “Well, have you expressed that to our brother, Jacob?”

“It didn’t occur to me until now,” the redhead replies, feigning an air of innocence. “But now I think I do.”

He can feel his teeth grinding. “Funny, that until Elliot showed an interest—”

“Yes,” Joseph acquiesces after a moment. “You and our most holy sister may pursue the deputy by your own means, but you must—” And here he looks at John, pointed. “—let the love into your heart, brother.”

A wash of relief crashes over him; after the fucking shit show that the last evening had been, John thinks that it’ll be good to bring some good news back to Elliot, who’s been itching to get out into the thick of the madness. Even if Joseph seems to be implying he doesn’t want their typical means used, that’s fine. Open to interpretation, right?

“I want the deputy brought to heel, John,” Joseph continues. “It is crucial for the survival of not only us, but also our people, that you show you are capable of doing this.”

“Of course,” John replies, smiling. “Elliot and I would do anything for you.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

When the junior deputy finally comes to, Elliot is sitting across from her. Diana makes a low, vicious sound as she lifts her head and fixes Elliot with her eyes—lovely eyes, Elliot thinks admiringly, while her molars grind and the noise vibrates through her head. John’s reluctantly left her alone; he thinks he should be the one to soften Diana for her, but Elliot thinks John’s just going to push her farther away.

“Good morning, sugar,” she greets, and Diana spits onto the floor.

“Fuck you.”

“Yes,” Elliot replies sweetly, “if you behave.”

Diana’s eyes flutter for a moment, like she isn’t expecting that so soon and so fast—but certainly she expected it in some respect, because Elliot’s been purposefully obvious about her intention for the deputy, to both Diana and John. She doesn’t want a mindless convert, dulled and emptied out by Bliss and agreeing blindly.

Her fingers itch. She tugs absently at the sleeve of her sweater, rolling her chair forward as the brunette pulls at her binds.

“What the fuck did you do with Hudson?” Diana grinds out.

“I wouldn’t worry about her,” Elliot dismisses, and waves her hand. “She’ll be just fine.”

There’s a brief moment where the brunette looks at her, sweeps sharp, green eyes over Elliot and she cocks a half-done smile at her before she says, “Yeah, Joey told me all about you.”

Elliot smiles. “Only good things, I’m sure.”

“Said you’re a fucking bitch.” Diana arches a brow loftily. “A nutjob.”

“That checks out.”

Diana spits on the floor again, ridding her mouth of the blood from her rough handling, but this time she spits it out at Elliot’s feet. Elliot sighs and tucks some hair behind her ear just before Diana asks, “So, what’s the plan here, princess?”

She blinks at the deputy. She's a little pleased at the pet name, but she doesn't want to let it show. “Plan?”

“Yeah,” Diana says, rolling her eyes. “C’mon, I’m not fucking stupid. What’s the plan? What’s the dynamic? John sends you in because you’re the pretty one, soften me up, and then he comes in to finish the job and cleanse my sins or what the fuck ever it is he thinks he’s doing?”

Elliot feigns bashfulness and flutters her lashes. “You think I’m pretty?”

“Fucking come on,” Di bites out viciously. “Whatever the ploy is, get it over and done with.”

It’s no fun when you say it like that, she thinks, but she can tell Diana’s sort of at her limit—not quite, because if this was her limit, then Elliot would have greatly overestimated her—but she’s getting there. Residual Bliss still burning through her system, and for what? For her to have more of an attitude? How well she’d chosen.

“There’s no ploy, Diana,” Elliot says after a moment, leaning back in her chair. “John wanted to cleanse you his way—I told him no.”

The deputy regards her for a moment, tugging absently at the binds on her wrists. “Why?” she asks, warily.

“Because it wouldn’t work,” Elliot replies. “You can’t make someone get better. They have to want it. And I don’t think that you do, honey.”

Diana’s eyes flicker for a moment. Elliot can tell that she’s trying to regulate her breathing, trying to smooth it on the way in and out of her so that it isn’t so laborious, but it’s hard to do when there’s Bliss wreaking havoc on all of your defenses. She would know—she tries not to expose herself to that shit if she doesn’t have to.

“You’re right,” she says after minute, “I don’t want to “get better”, and I sure as fuck don’t want anything you’d give to me.”

“I don’t want that either,” Elliot tells her. “Not through any kind of religious baptism or cleansing, anyway.” She waves her hand and settles back against the seat, fishing a carton of cigarettes out of her pocket and sticking one in her mouth before she wiggles the box at Diana. “Smoke?”

The brunette regards her hatefully, silently, and Elliot shrugs before she lights her own, tosses the cigarettes onto the nearby workbench and takes a drag. When she blows the smoke out through the corner of her mouth, she says, “I don’t think we’re that different, Diana.”

“No?” Diana prompts, her mouth twisting around the words ruefully. “I could count the ways. One of us is a married to a fucking psychopathic kidnapper...”

“Colorful.”

“... and one of us also is a psychopathic kidnapper....”

Elliot smiles, but she doesn’t show her teeth, not the way that she smiles at Burke or Pratt because she wants to make them squirm. Diana rolls her neck.

“So if you don’t wanna cleanse me,” she begins, barely modulating the venom in her voice, “why the fuck am I here?”

“I like you,” Elliot says plainly, because she’s never been able to beat around the bush, not really. She’s not as sneaky as John, as brutal as Jacob, as smooth as Joseph. She’s not like any of them, and sometimes, that’s lonely. 

The deputy regards her with something close to a poison-riddled look. Instead of addressing I like you, Diana seems to take advantage of this and makes a demand, instead. 

"That Bliss shit makes me feel like garbage," she says. "Don't give it to me anymore."

"You did puke it up quite a bit, didn't you?"

Diana grimaces. She looks like she might want to say something, perhaps regarding Elliot's explanation, but the blonde waves her hand to stop whatever is about to come out of the deputy's mouth. She's not there to argue the logistics of a cosmic pull, anyway.

“I moved out of Hope County straight after high school,” she explains, “and back home to Georgia. Big city. Very exciting. I was tired of this little town and how few opportunities it had. Atlanta? That shit had so much going on.” Elliot pauses, crossing her leg over her knee.

“So glad,” Diana seethes, “that I’m getting a fuckin’ origin story.”

Elliot sucks her teeth. “Anyway, I date a shithead, I break up with him, and then he breaks into my apartment and holds a knife to my neck.” Elliot waves her hand again, because these details are so inconsequential to her at this point; she can barely remember the boy’s face, or anything about that moment except for a few key details. The color of his sweater sleeve (cream); the smell of his cologne (expensive); the paint chipping around her doorframe (small, baby blue chipping to white plaster underneath).

The brunette stares at her. Elliot takes a drag of the cigarette and taps the ash off of the end.

“I’ll spare you the details,” she continues, “but do you know what I was thinking that whole time? And after?”

Diana’s jaw works loosely, absently, like her brain is firing off neurons without needing to. “I don’t fucking know.”

“Try and guess.” She pauses, and then says meaningfully, “I’m sure you’ve got an idea of the kinds of things your mind says when you’re in a moment like that.”

When she watches Diana and smokes her cigarette with leisurely, relaxed movements, the brunette’s eyes flicker over the smoke cloud and she manages out in a wobbling sneer, “Probably something like—like that it wasn’t your fault, or some other kind of psychological-drivel to make you feel like you were in control.”

Elliot comes to a stand. The deputy’s closer than she thinks; it is about control, but just a different path.

“No,” she says, planting a hand on the arm of the chair Diana’s tied to so she can lean down. “I kept thinking, ‘this isn’t going to ever fucking happen again’.”

There’s a strange suspended moment between them. Diana’s lovely—more lovely than she’d let on, probably—but more than that, watching the deputy claw and rake her way through group after group of Eden’s Gate members, causing them problem after problem, Elliot can only think, aren’t we a little pair, the two of us?

A person didn’t get used to killing so fast unless they’d at least thought about it before. Maybe done it before.

“Do you know what it’s like, Diana,” Elliot continues, “to realize that you’ve reached a point of being able to do anything to stop something like that from happening again? It’s not oppressive. It’s liberating. Why do you think an animal stuck in a trap will chew its own foot off to get out?”

She straightens up. She wants to touch—tuck the hair away from her face, trace the lines of her face—but she won’t. Not yet. She’s more patient than John is, more willing to wait for that moment of satisfaction.

Diana says, “It’s real fucking liberating knowing Hudson’s chained up somewhere.”

“You have to stop giving a shit,” Elliot replies, “about other people’s freedoms before you’ve gotten your own.”

The brunette opens her mouth to say something, but before she can, Elliot plunges on. “We’re the same because we’re both going to get it done, whatever it is for us,” she says. “By any means necessary.”

Diana’s staring at the wall. She’s silent, and spitefully so, and she won’t look at Elliot; maybe because she knows that’s exactly what Elliot wants. In fact, that’s almost assuredly what it is.

“I want a cigarette,” the brunette says after a moment, petulant.

Elliot smiles thinly and brings her own to Diana’s mouth. More enunciated, Diana says, “I want my own cigarette.”

“It’s nice to want things, deputy,” Elliot idles. “Take it or don’t, it’s up to you.”

She does, after a moment of deliberation. Elliot drops the cigarette to the concrete floor as she breathes the smoke out and stamps it out with her foot. Diana takes a long time to blow the smoke out of her mouth, and she shifts in the chair; her eyes flicker up to meet Elliot’s, and she’s sure she can see something wicked in them.

“Animals chew themselves out of a trap because they’re animals,” Diana says after a second, not exactly the profession of attraction Elliot was hoping for. “Not because it’s liberating.”

Elliot laughs and pushes the chair she’d been sitting in back and out of the way. She picks up her carton of cigarettes from the tool bench and replies. Glancing over her shoulder, she can feel her expression softening when she looks at the deputy—soaking wet, rattling with cold and what Bliss they’d manage to pelt her with. Not much, they told her, whatever “much” meant.

“We’re all animals, deputy,” she acquiesces after a moment. “In the fucking end, anyway.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Glad you’re getting along with your deputy.”

John knows he sounds petulant. He knows, and he still can’t stop it from coming out of him as Elliot peels her sweater off over her head and drops it onto the floor. She glances at him over her shoulder.

“Green with envy looks good on you, baby,” she idles, and he feels his molars grind.

“You could play a little hard to get,” John says, trying for lofty and failing. “She’s a fucking menace, after all. She’s been causing problems nonstop, she took Fall’s End from us—”

Elliot says, “Our,” without stopping her undressing, which is two parts frustrating and one part endearing because John knows she’s trying to disarm him. She’s not stealthy about her tactics, and she doesn’t try to be.

“Our what?” he asks her, barely containing his irritation.

“Our deputy,” his wife replies sweetly. She turns, finally, to look at him—giving him her eyes, because she knows that he hates when she doesn’t—and leans against the dresser. “You called her my deputy. She’s not mine. She’s ours.”

John presses his lips into a thin line. He knows Elliot. He knows what it is she’s doing, because even though Diana has been nothing but a fucking thorn in his side, hearing the blonde say she’s ours gives him a pleasant, wretched kind of thrill writhing slick and hot in the pit of his stomach. As much as he knows her intimately, so too does she know exactly the kind of thing to keep him interested.

But it is a little different, if she’s considering sharing. If Diana isn’t her own private conquest.

“Is that so?” he asks, managing to keep his voice conversational now despite his piqued interest, sidling over to her. “I seem to recall that she was supposed to be my belated wedding gift to you.”

Reaching up, he drags his fingers along the inked scales of the serpent curved around her hip, swallowing up some of those gossamer-fine scars she had given herself and stretching down her thigh.

“Well,” Elliot murmurs demurely, “would I be a very Godly woman if I didn’t share with my husband?”

The words push the corners of his mouth upward.

“No.” He sweeps his eyes over her face. “I suppose not.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Joseph quickly comes to think that the deputy is more trouble than she’s worth. John hates when he says things like to Elliot with him still in the room, because he knows that Elliot isn’t going to cow to his brother—even though she should. It’s one of the most irritating traits of hers.

“She’s making a mess,” Joseph says, standing in their kitchen, watching Elliot with his eyes—the same way that he watches Jacob, sometimes. With wariness. “More of a mess than the good she would do us if she were converted.”

Elliot replies tartly, “It’s a good thing you don’t lift a finger to clean up a mess then, isn’t it? John does it for you, no questions asked, and by proxy, I do too.”

“If you have an issue with the way things are,” his brother articulates carefully, “then perhaps you should discuss the expectations that have been set out for you by God, with God.”

Elliot’s jaw sets. The contention sits there, her death, locked in her jaw.

Oh, John thinks, and he says, “I’ll be back.” She gives him a sharp look.

“I think that’s best,” she bites out. He knows what that means—she wants to be alone to argue with Joseph as she pleases, without having to worry about Joseph going, well, what do you think, John? Because he will, inevitably. He will, and John will have to look at Elliot and say, you know that he’s right, Joseph knows best, we’re here to shepherd.

As he descends to the lower bowels of the ranch, he stops at the bottom of the stairs.

“... do more for you than you fucking realize...”

“—refrain from speaking to me like—”

“—deserve to have this, Joseph—”

They should have taken Diana to the bunker, not kept her here. Not where there is so little space between them and her. The lack of distance lets Elliot feel close to her, and like any unloved animal, when she has something to keep, she guards it viciously. This is no different.

Diana is no different.

“You’re quite the conversation piece,” John tells the brunette when he walks into the room. She’s been with them for three days, and in that time she’s nearly escaped; unfortunately, the only exit from the basement is to go up, and she’s easy to catch up there.

The deputy regards him with a half-lidded gaze that reeks of impudence. “What’s it like?”

“Having a conversation piece?”

“Being so pathetic you have to kidnap someone to be able to have conversation,” Diana drawls venomously. The words spike a bout of irritation in him, hot and wretched, and he thinks he doesn’t know if it was worse to come down here to avoid Joseph and Elliot’s argument or if he should have stayed.

“My brother thinks you’re more trouble than you’re worth,” John bites out.

“I’m really fuckin’ concerned about Joseph’s opinion of me.” She smiles, all teeth, and the gesture strikes him as eerily reminiscent to Elliot. “So what, you’re gonna baptize me now or whatever instead?”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” he snaps, circling the chair that has been her home. “He doesn’t even want you cleansed. I’m thinking he’s just going to have us kill you. Stick your head up somewhere to send a message to all of your little friends in the resistance.”

Diana’s quiet at that for a minute, before she says, “Wifey won’t let that happen.”

“You—” John sucks in a sharp breath. “Don’t call her that.”

“Why not? She’s been making fucking bedroom eyes at me every second, that’s not my fault.”

Diana’s goading him, but it’s hard to see around the irritation. She’s impertinent, and impudent, and there’s nothing that he wants to do more than to just break that inside her—until she’s saying his name and begging and begging and begging. It’s the part of him that Joseph wanted him to cleanse and cut out, but that Elliot tells him she likes the best.

We’re closer than lovers, she would say, digging her nails in hard enough to draw blood, the same sin binds us.

The same sin that she sees in Diana, too. Wrath, he knows, even though he hates it.

“She has taken a particular interest in you,” John relents after a moment, though he doesn’t like to, “deputy.”

“I’m a catch,” Diana agrees. He sucks his teeth.

“My wife has always been a purveyor of wretched things.” John leans against the tool bench, narrowing his eyes. “I suppose she must think there’s something salvageable about you.”

“Is there a point?” the deputy asks, sounding tired. “To this... Monologuing? It’s very Marvel-villain of you, but I don’t have any popcorn or alcohol, and it makes it a lot less enjoyable.”

“Look,” he hisses, pushing off from the tool bench, “if we had it my way, you’d have your sin revealed and you’d be on your fucking knees begging us to keep you, you wicked little—”

“John?”

Elliot’s voice drifts down from the stairwell, and he snaps his mouth shut. She’d be furious if she knew he’d lost his temper. Maybe. Probably.

“Uh-oh,” Diana sing-songs, just low enough for him to hear, “here comes the ol’ ball and chain. Isn’t that right, buddy?”

The insinuation hangs there, between them, that Elliot is their ball and chain, and he feels his blood pressure spike. “Shut. Up,” John grinds out between his teeth, just as he hears footfalls descend the stairs above. When his wife does finally turn the corner, there’s a lovely high colour in her cheeks, and her eyes look a little wild.

“Bonding time?” she asks.

“Hardly,” John replies, just as Diana says, “Oh, you know it,” and he shoots her a look. Elliot had called her their deputy, their shared conquest, but both he and Diana look at Elliot more than they want to look at each other.

He does want, he thinks. He feels that tell-tale itch. It wouldn’t be so strong if Diana didn’t just buck against them all the fucking time, but he does want, which makes it all the more frustrating when she turns that venom on him.

“We should give the deputy a little blissful encouragement,” John remarks, turning his gaze to Elliot. “It might make her behave.”

“I don’t think so,” the blonde idles, as he reaches up and tucks a strand of hair away from her face. Oh, yes—she is furious. He can feel the tension from the grind of her molars against each other. The conversation with Joseph didn’t go well, then.

“Joseph wants to speak with you,” Elliot tells him as he runs the pads of his fingers down the column of her throat. There’s a nasty, jagged scar there—he’s trying to remember where it’s from, but he can’t.

“About what?” he says, brows pulling together.

“Wives, submit to your husband as to the lord,” she intones, the obedience in her voice cloying and all-too-sweet to be genuine, “for the husband is the head of the wife as Christ is the head of the church, his body, of which he is the Saviour—”

“Fucking unreal,” Diana says from the chair, and Elliot’s mouth ticks upward.

“As the church submits to Christ,” she finishes, fixing John with her eyes, “etcetera and so on.”

John is filled with dread. He thinks maybe Elliot’s mouthed off one too many times—she’s never liked Joseph, never even been particularly religious, and her own heritage is such a violent mishmash of religion and criminal activity that she’s hardly got the track record for piety. Scarlet is a practicing Catholic and Ambrose’s opinions on religion are unknown, considering that he’s been vanished for so long, so it’s no surprise that Elliot views religion as something like ambiguity.

“I’ll be quick,” he murmurs, which they both know isn’t true, but he says it anyway.

“Don’t rush on my behalf.” Her eyes are dark—he can see the pupils eating away at the baby blue of her irises, and when she reaches up and brushes his hand away from her face, there is a tiny tremor in her hands.

Not good at all, he thinks, stepping around her and looking at Diana. Her eyes are on Elliot for a heartbeat longer, and then she looks at him, and he knows that she’s seen it too. She’s too sharp not to have.

As he approaches the stairs, John says, “Play nice, hellcat.”

“I always do.”

Near the top, he hears Diana say, “I don’t think you’re capable of playing well with others, princess,” and Elliot says, “He said play nice, not play fair, and I can be plenty nice,” and he feels a little surge of warmth at the playfulness in her tone. It’s a timbre that he doesn’t hear out of her often, and almost exclusively with him, so to hear it now not only makes him a little envious, but also pleased.

The deputy is a wretched, wicked thing, yes; she should be cleansed, but there is also a part of him that knows Elliot would not want her any other way, just like he wouldn’t want Elliot any other way.

And that’s good enough for him.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The deputy escapes.

It’s not a surprise to Elliot when he tells her, and he thinks maybe she was waiting for it all along, considering that Joseph had conditionally allowed them their pursuit of Diana as long as they can keep her under control; it would not be completely unfounded to think maybe Elliot gave her a way out, to keep the chase fun. To keep it fresh.

She takes Fall’s End back. She takes the fucking plane back. She takes Hudson back. She takes, and takes, and takes, and that’s all Diana Baker is capable of doing, John thinks—fucking taking, even after he and Elliot had been so gracious with her. It grinds against his patience as though his nerve endings have been exposed; it shreds the last of his control, sinks its claws into him like nothing else.

Sunrise Farm. Rae Rae’s. The Lamb of God Church. One after another, they play this game of existential tug-of-war; where Diana takes one and moves on, Elliot surges back in to take it back again. He thinks that his wife should be able to crush the Resistance under her bootheel, but he has the sneaking suspicion that she doesn’t want it to be done so quickly. And, in many ways, Diana outfoxes them with what appears to be little effort; their supply trucks get mowed down. The silos burn. Men keep dying.

These are all things that should disparage Elliot, but each time John points it out to her—“She’s wicked, Ell,” he’ll posit—she regards him loftily and says, “Well, she can’t be anything less than us, can she?”

Diana gets pulled back to them. She escapes. It happens over and over, until the lines start blurring, until John thinks maybe, sometimes, she lets them catch her—like she’s looking forward to those moments. When she’s there, at the ranch, things feel different; Elliot moves with a strange surety around the deputy, like they know each other already, deep in the marrow of their bones. Maybe, in a way, they do.

And in those moments, there’s a shift. Elliot allows her freedoms on good behavior, which run on such thin ice considering Diana herself, and are almost always immediately broken at first. But no matter how many of their things she destroys or spits on or takes, no matter how many times John finds himself disgustingly exasperated with her—he is always happy to see her back. 

In part because he knows Joseph has given Jacob and Faith both leave to kill her if they have the misfortune of coming across her, and in part because he sees the way Elliot leans into her like a flower to sunlight; her fingers ghost over Diana’s skin, and she pulls Diana into her lap and kisses her, hot and open-mouthed, and sighs when Diana petulantly sinks her teeth into her lower lip.

It draws blood, and John knows from the way his wife looks at him that it delights her.

“Wicked,” Elliot murmurs then, tongue peeking out to swipe the blood from her lip, reiterating the word that John favors Diana with the most. “Don’t you think so, baby?”

“Incredibly,” John agrees. He climbs onto the bed behind Elliot, sweeping the hair from her shoulder and pressing a kiss to the junction of her shoulder.

“How well we chose,” the blonde purrs, dragging her fingertips along the column of Diana’s throat, and he can see the goosebumps rise in her skin. Diana’s eyes flicker, dreamily, and their gazes meet over Elliot’s shoulder. She’s tame, like this—or nearly-tame, close to domesticated, at least for a little while. It’s only ever for a little while. And though they fall into a strange, tentative routine every time she’s here—even though John can lean over Elliot’s shoulder and pull Diana into a bruising kiss, until he feels her breath hitch.

He loves it. He loves the feeling of Diana’s mouth parting under his, loves that their fingers meet, tangled, in Elliot’s hair, grounding Diana to them. At night, when Elliot has contented herself with enough of a taste of Diana and John both, when they lay tangled together, Diana kept between them.

Our deputy, Elliot had said; in moments like these, it feels true.

“You missed us,” the blonde says against Diana’s neck. “We missed you, too. Especially John.”

Her eyes are sly when she looks at him, when he pulls back from Diana to regard his wife curiously. She takes the brunette’s chin in her grip and guides her back, brushing their noses together.

“Missed having both of his little vipers,” she murmurs silkily, and John sees the flicker of her tongue against Diana’s lips. “Didn’t you, John?”

Yes, he thinks, but does not say, because his mind is encompassed with the way Elliot kisses Diana; reverently, with the intent to worship. Never rushed and never urgent, only ever luxuriating in it.

At first, he and Diana get along for Elliot’s sake—as much as they can, anyway, because even Elliot is not enough of a bridge to force them to get along—but when they have the deputy, and his wife gets called away, they fall into a kind of rhythm with each other. It’s not a familiar cadence. It’s daunting, and a little jarring, the way they bite and scratch at each other for comfort, both missing their girl.

“I’m not going to stay,” Diana says then, against the blonde’s mouth, the same way that she said it into John’s mouth. Her neck and shoulders are littered with the remnants of their time together, and he wonders if the Resistance members ask.

“We know,” John says, leaning down and grazing his teeth across the fading bruise of a love bite. He drinks in the way Diana hisses and squirms. “You’ll always leave.”

“And always come back,” Elliot agrees. She noses past the hair gathering in the crook of Diana’s shoulder. 

“Like you were never gone at all.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It becomes her mantra. I’m not going to stay, Diana says every time, and every time she only sticks around for a day or more before she dissipates into the air like a wraith. He doesn’t know how long it goes on like this, but he does know that each time Joseph becomes more impatient. Each time, the act of losing her strikes a chord of panic in John—she won’t come back this time, he thinks, or maybe this time she’ll come back with more than just her, or or or—but Elliot doesn’t feed into his panic; she treats it like anything else, with the confidence that the deputy will come back. He desperately wants to keep Diana there with them, where he can see and touch and taste her, where he is certain Jacob hasn’t gotten her, but she always follows through on the promise of leaving.

“Aren’t you at your limit?” John asks, late in the evening, watching Diana from across the island counter in the kitchen. This time around, Elliot has been gone for most of the time Diana has been here, which makes it more difficult to know that her tolerance for sticking around is going to be running out soon. By the time Elliot comes back, Diana might already be gone.

“I’m always at my limit,” she replies, her idle venom more a comfort now than ever, “with you.”

“You’re a real comedian, deputy.” He saunters around the island, his hands finding her hips and his mouth finding her neck. He likes hearing the way her breath slides out of her when he does. “Though I seem to recall a specific instance in which you were not at your limit, and couldn’t stop asking me for more—”

He’s about to follow through on the insinuation, because Diana’s eyes narrow when she looks at him but she’s warm and close and he watches her gaze flicker down to his mouth, but the sound of the front doors to the house opening startles him out of the dreamy haze the brunette tends to put him in. John pushes off from the counter and walks out of the kitchen, brows knitting together at the impudence of someone to come barging in without being announced.

“Herald.” It’s one of the men, and his face cloudy. “It’s—I’m sorry, we—”

“Spit it out,” John grinds out between his teeth. He hears the sound of Diana rustling in the kitchen behind him, and then from outside, Elliot’s voice.

“Don’t fucking touch me—”

The blonde shoulders her way through the doorway as someone flutters nervously behind her. John takes in a number of details very rapidly: she’s clutching at a spot close to her shoulder, just below her collarbone, there is blood coming out of her mouth, and she’s fucking pissed.

“Get a doctor,” John barks out, just as Diana steps around him and goes to Elliot. He does, too, but mostly to clear the members of Eden’s Gate out of the room because he knows Elliot’s going to come unglued if they stick around.

“Fucking Pratt,” Elliot seethes, even as Diana’s hands go to her, trying to guide her to the couch. The blonde jerks when she feels hands on her, looking wild, and John tenses for just a second; in moments like these, his wife’s ability to differentiate between threat and non-threat is almost non-existent, and he’s suffered the consequences of it plenty of times. “Don’t—fucking—”

“It’s me, you monster,” Diana snaps. “Sit the fuck down.”

The blonde’s breathing is labored. She swallows back what he can only assume is a mouthful of blood before he says, “Hellcat.”

“I’m going,” she bites out, and then she does. Diana touches her elbow, and she stiffens, and then sits down where the brunette tells her to. When she pulls her hand away from her shoulder, it’s sticky and wet with blood.

“Jesus Christ,” Diana says, a little wrench in her voice that she quickly snuffs out. “Getting sloppy?”

“Eat shit,” Elliot wheezes. “I hate that fuckhead. Can’t wait til I—” She sucks in a sharp breath. “—til I g-get my fucking—hands—”

Diana is circling Elliot, trying to get a good look, as John grabs a first aid kid from under the kitchen sink. He keeps thinking about all of the blood coming out of her mouth; it’s not the first time he’s seen her like this, but it’s definitely not any easier, either.

“Exit wound?” the deputy asks.

“Fucking shot me with a 9 milli FMJ,” the blonde says between her teeth, “there’d better fucking be an—”

“Stop,” Diana interjects as John returns with the first aid kit, “being unhelpful.”

It’s a torturous amount of time between Elliot’s arrival and the arrival of the doctor they have for such occasions. In the meantime, Diana does what she can—she knows probably more than both of them, even Elliot with her close proximity to violence, about how to stabilize a gun wound; she cleans it and stops the bleeding as much as she can, her face set in a grim, tight expression.

The brunette packs the wound with gauze and says, “You’re a goddamn idiot.”

“Cute one though, huh?” Elliot asks, her voice a little hoarse and her eyes fluttering. “Be cuter if someone could get me some fucking oxy.”

“Save it for the doctor, princess.”

“So glad,” John manages out tartly, Elliot’s fingers loosely curling against his palm, “so glad we have your calming presence here, deputy.”

Diana regards him for a moment, and she looks about to say something when the doctor chooses precisely that moment to arrive. He doesn’t do much by way of conversation; he works silently, intensely, his fingers moving a sort of surety that comes with many years of practice, but he hardly looks at John or Diana while he works.

It’s probably odd. People know that Diana is around, but they don’t know-know, in the sense that there’s never been an official announcement or acknowledgement of what’s going on. Occasionally, the doctor’s eyes furtively flicker towards the brunette; but if he’s feeling pressed to ask, he doesn’t let it show.

By the time Elliot is stitched-up, drugged-up, and planted into the bed, the heat and bubbling fury have died out of her, the embers smothered by the painkillers. Diana lays in the master bedroom next to her while the doctor talks to him outside in the hall.

“Bed rest, minimum three weeks,” he says. “If she keeps coughing up blood, call me. No strenuous activity, no stress—”

“Doctor,” John says tightly, “with all due respect, let’s keep the expectations under control.”

The doctor grimaces. “Bed rest, three weeks. Everything else, just—try your best.”

John nods, short and impatient, and dismisses the man with a gesture of his hand before he steps into the bedroom. Elliot’s murmuring something to Diana, but the words are slurring and her voice is pitched so low beyond normal volume he can’t make it out, even from there.

He wanders to the side of the bed, sitting down on the edge by Elliot’s hip.

“What’d he say?” the blonde asks, her words slurring and her fingers tangling in strands of Diana’s dark hair. “Two days, ready—go?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Diana says irritably.

“Three weeks bedrest,” John tells her. “He thinks you have a collapsed lung.”

“Fuckoff,” Elliot groans, the words blending together.

“He also said no strenuous activity, no stress—”

At that, Diana laughs, the sound billowing out of her in a short, disbelieving bark. “Fucking what?”

“That...means you t-two have to….behave,” Elliot mumbles, her eyes flickering. “No stressin’ me—no streeeessin’—”

“Stop.” Diana sounds almost affectionately exasperated. “You are so painful to listen to.”

“—no stressin’,” Elliot finishes stubbornly, “me. Out.”

Later that night, when she’s finally drifted off into sleep and John and Diana have her settled between them, John props his head up in his hand and sees Diana still awake. She’s looking at the window. It’s open, and the late-August breeze comes drifting in, bringing with it the smell of pine and wilderness.

“At your limit?” John asks as he did before, keeping his voice soft so as not to stir Elliot. Normally, he wouldn’t ask—he would just wait to realize that Diana’s not there, and go from that point on. But it’s different, now, with Elliot like this.

The brunette turns her gaze to him. For a second, her eyes flicker over Elliot, who stirs a little.

“She always this annoying?” Diana says, instead of answering, and by annoying he thinks she means worry-inducing.

“Like it’s an Olympic Sport,” John replies.

She exhales out of her nose. They sit like that for a little while, until Diana settles back against the pillow. Elliot’s fingers are knotted loosely into the sleeve of her t-shirt, and the blonde’s breathing stutters and hitches in her chest.

“Not yet,” she answers, finally. “Not at my limit yet.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“How many days has it been?”

John’s voice breaks Elliot out of her reverie. She blinks, and realizes that she’s been checked out. The painkillers make her brain foggy, and if it weren’t for the excruciating, searing pain in her chest and shoulder, she’d just stop taking them.

The sound of the shower running in the bathroom adjacent to the bedroom trickles in through the fog. That’s right: she’s in bed. She’s in bed, and John is next to her, his fingers tracing the coil of the tattooed serpent on her thigh, the cigarette in her fingers burning for who knows how long since the last time she’s taken an inhale of it.

“Since what?” Elliot asks, looking at her husband. John slides his hand up and snags her fingers, bringing the wedding ring she sports to his mouth.

“Since our viper came back to us.”

She tries to think back that far, but it’s hard. Elliot reaches over with a wince and taps the cigarette out into the ashtray. In the bathroom, she can hear the water switch off.

After a moment, she replies, “Must be over two weeks.”

Her husband makes a low noise. She brushes her fingers through his beard, and he murmurs, “Longer than usual.”

“What are you two gossiping about?”

Elliot’s gaze flickers up sluggishly to Diana, standing in her towel, propped up against the doorway. She’s such a far cry from the girl that she was when they first got their hands on her that it’s almost easy to forget she ever existed in a place where she wasn’t theirs. How absolutely dreadful, Elliot thinks, just absolutely fucking dreadful, to think she was once not ours.

“How long we have to wait for you to come back over here,” John says easily. “Not only are you using up all the hot water, but Elliot’s pining.”

“Oh, yeah?” Diana sounds amused as she makes her way to the bed. “Poor little bed-ridden snake, aren’t you?”

Elliot laughs, because it should be absurd—it should be, that Diana is here, leaning in when Elliot beckons her, the brunette’s mouth soft and sweet against her own. It should be absurd, but it isn’t, because this isn’t the first time Diana’s kissed her like this and it won’t be the last, either.

“Every time we’re apart,” Elliot confirms resolutely, “I wallow around. Just ask John.”

“I have a hard time picturing you wallowing.”

“She does,” John says, planting a kiss on Elliot’s jaw. “She wallows around and says, when do you think our Di will be back? Does she think about us?” And then, grinning wickedly, he adds, “Do you think if I ask nicely, she’ll shove her fingers in my mouth?”

Elliot laughs, grabbing John’s jaw and jostling him. “You fucker.”

“I will,” Diana says, and now she sounds sly, and in the way that Elliot does. “If you ask.”

Pausing, Elliot feels her chest tighten a little. Mine, she thinks tiredly, glancing between John and Diana both. They’re here, and hers, and even though she told John the deputy is for them she thinks maybe they’re both for her.

“What else?” She turns her gaze back to Diana. “What else will you do, if I ask?”

Diana’s gaze flickers. Her lips press into a thin little line. I’m not going to stay, she looks like she wants to say, but she doesn’t. She just says, “You’re chatty as fuck tonight, aren’t you? Sounds like it might be time for you to pop another painkiller,” and goes to fetch the pill bottle.

Elliot settles back against the pillows and watches the brunette rifling through the dresser. This is when Diana says, I’m not going to stay, her little mantra, but she doesn’t, and John tangles their fingers together and squeezes her hand. 

The deputy always leaves, and she always comes back. She hasn’t said yes, she’ll stay, and she also hasn’t said no, she’ll go, and in this instance maybe that means exactly what Elliot wants it to.

Maybe, it means this time, she’ll stay.

[imagine-loki]

The Slutty Webs One Weaves

Title : The Slutty Webs one Weaves

Chapter NO. 8

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki’s Asgardian wife learns women write fanfiction about him on a trip to Midgard. She’s edgy for the duration and lets him have it when they get back.

Author: lokilover9

Rating: M

Pepper returned from the lobby to an edgy Tony. "Was Hannah down there? What took you so long to answer your phone?"

"No and I was talking to someone."

"You stalled to make new friends? I worried you were dragging said witch up here in a headlock."

"Wrong. Is Loki still consoling Brianna?"

"Yes."

Pepper dropped a mini bomb and Tony disconcertedly sighed. "He isn't going to like this." The couple appeared at the guest room door. "Hey, Little Warrior. Feeling any better?"

She nodded.

"Badass and I wondered if you'd stick around. Maybe Daddikins can conjure Mario Kart? I miss you kicking my tushy."

Virginia's nervous smile had Loki encouraging it and once Tony had Brianna distracted, they slipped out of sight. She conveyed returning to the Tea shop, claimed Hannah resembled an old friend and asked which direction she'd gone in. The cashier said she did a double take at something in the lobby, appeared as though seeing a ghost and dashed towards the hotel exit without her purchases.

Loki's face became a storm of tumultuous emotions and she startled when a snap of his fingers conjured a book.

"Should I have said nothing?"

He cynically chuckled, scanning the title pages. "Ever thought your God in heaven found amusement in bombarding your life with fuckery, like the Norn's do mine? The arm of his celestial robe hanging high while he mockingly inspires you with a goblet of mead? 'Rise up, Homes. I'm off for a shag with Mary.'"

"All Midgardians have."

"Have all dragged their only friends into Alice's fucking wonderland where the big bad wolf keeps hounding at the door? Excuse me, I'm intertwining fairy tales."

"Probably half. Are you okay?"

"Right as rain, girlfriend. Right, found it. I haven't used this spell on a child and need the right measurement of ingredients."

She nervously stumbled over a pair of small shoes. "A 'spell???'"

"To make Brianna sleep. Shhh. I must concentrate."

She watched, dazzled, as tiny bottles appeared mid air and part of their contents emptied into his cupped palm. Moving it in a circular motion, they combined like fluid sand, glowed a soft white, then faded into transparent flakes as the book and bottles vanished.

"Calmly return to the main room with me?"

They did just as Tony blundered a turn at Mario. "I'ma gonna givva you such a smacka, you cartoon pisano."

When Brianna laughed, Loki waved his hand before her face from behind. "Forgive me, Min Lille."

"D..dad…"

Tony caught her. "What's up with the magically induced coma?"

"She's better off." Said Loki, sharper than intended.

Stark situated Little Warrior while he paced, grinding a fist into his palm. There hadn't been time to process any definitive plans to apprehend Brianna's captors and discovering the fourth incited a rage only her reciprocated love had contained. Now, his nerves were stretched to their limits, forcing him to convey more than he wanted, risk finally reaching out for help and configure one. Fast.

"Scotch, Snowflake?"

He sighed heavily and stopped. "I must keep a clear head and so should you. The secrecy and lies, the hiding, everything I've done has been to protect Brianna and yourselves since the instant she graced my life. If I'm to continue, we need to trust each other completely. No matter how disturbing my information, you will make no inquiries, tell no one and from here forth, do 'exactly' as I say. Should you veer off course, we leave for real and you'll be fighting a dangerous battle alone. You may regardless if I can't contain Thor's rage over this."

"A battle with who?"

"This will hit home, Tony. Give me your word."

"It's yours, Pepper's too, right?" She nodded. "For insurance, she can text you a pic of me in a chastity belt. Hell, send it to Jimmy Kimmel. Are we good?"

"I'd rather you signed a wager to become a goat. How much longer is your suite booked for?"

"Another ten days."

"Virginia, pack for a week please? I need your help with Brianna at a safe house. Tony, contact your pilot. You're going home."

"Alex is in Aruba celebrating his girlfriend's breast implants. 'Why' Loki?"

"Fuck." He muttered. "Because I'm certain Fury's involved in Brianna's existence and you 'don't' want him up your shit when you aren't there. He was fucking Hannah and six and half years ago, introduced her and Jillian to Viriginia at his fiftieth birthday bash."

Tony slid both hands down his face. "I..shit..whoa. How do you know that and who's Jillian?"

Pepper frantically retraced her memory. "Jillian...was she the petite brunette with doe like eyes?"

"Congratulations." Loki replied. "You've also met Brianna's Mother. It's all in her diary."

"WHAT?!?" Said the couple, shocked.

"Save your questions! If Brianna's the reason Hannah bailed, by now the evil foursome knows she's escaped and you're aware she exists. Were I Fury, I'd be gathering my accomplices for interrogation, initiating a low key search for the four of us and putting eyes on the Tower 'and' Thor, where he'll find Astrid. Please, 'help me.'"

"Okay, okay. Can you teleport me back?" Asked Stark.

"No. Fury knows I have that ability. If S.H.I.E.L.D's watching and never see you enter…"

"What the fuck? You think they're involved too?"

"Oh my god." Said Pepper.

Loki tuned them out and conjured a bag of burner phones. "Book a seat on the next flight out in any class. Delete our past conversations and cease using your phones to contact me. If Brianna awakens, have her call me on one of these. I'll be back before dawn."

"You're leaving???"

"Yes. To relocate Astrid and warn Thor. Wish me luck he doesn't break New Mexico."

Loki vanished into a portal leaving the couple aghast.

"Well Butch, we're up to our eyeballs in another shit storm. I should've ignored the flu and gone with you that night."

She cracked a tiny smile. "Before or after you fell asleep next to the toilet?"

Tony nodded, observing Brianna in her slumber. "And dreamt Buzz Lightyear brought me our duvet."

"High fevers induce hallucinations. That was me in a white pants suit."

"You sure sounded like 'Tim The Toolman Taylor.'

He was doing it again. Comedically rambling off topic to cushion the blow of a truth that rubbed him wrong from every angle.

"Tony?" Said Pepper.

"Hm?"

"Promise no veering? I haven't trusted Nick since Steve found those weapons on the Helicarrier."

"None of us Avengers do either. I won't, he's too dangerous. With the ability to fuck us over worse than any accusations of harboring a missing child could. Virginia..this is bad. What more was in that diary?"

"It is, but we have to stay focused. A sleep deprived, frazzled Loki discovering we aren't ready, won't want to talk. I'll get our suitcases."

Tony followed. "Did you bring a warm coat? I'll bet he conjured that safehouse in the Siberian Tundra." ***** Loki first returned to their room to collect his and Brianna's things. Time was crucial, but before seeking Astrid, he needed to tune into her ring. Left on, it steadily recorded her and using a hologram, he rewound to the day he departed Asgard and quickly scanned through the mundane.

He watched her pained reaction to his note, heard hers and Frigga's spiteful words, witnessed their treatment of Thor, heard himself being defended, their following remorse and the lies conjured betwixt Mother and son. Although impressed by Frigga duplicating Astrid's ring, he wasn't in the mood for another presumed 'lecture on morality' and fast forwarded to them parting ways in Asgard.

Night after night, he saw Astrid entering Ingrid's bed chamber and once heard his Mother in law scolding a hidden Roddy from her doorway. "Doth's thou newest mistress prefer perfuming as well? Your stench giveth you away."

He'd have laughed if not for Astrid's tears, but when forwarding to the present, she wasn't sleeping at Thor's. His means of travel would remain portals and high on adrenaline, he arrived to gather her belongings and cringed at the sounds of lovemaking.

"That's it princess. Take your Kings tallywacker like a good girl."

'Norns.' Loki conjured more burner phones, blared the living room's television and Thor came running, cock at full mast. "Brilliant way to greet an intruder, dingus."

"Brother!" Thor exuberantly bellowed on approach.

Loki conjured a dagger. "Hug me naked and tallywacker gets beheaded. Where's Astrid?"

"At the Rosewood."

Loki frowned. "You let my wife, who hops realms on a fucking whim, stay at a hotel???"

Jane came rushing down the stairs in a Betty Boop robe and he arched a brow. "Hi, Loki. It's only for two nights and she offered to give us time alone."

Thor's smile faded. "I didn't hear anything in the guest bedroom. Did you bug our house?"

"Yes, brother. 'I', snagged a side job installing covert surveillance on Midgards superheroes. Spark another spliff and do cover your cock?"

Jane did with a decorative plate from the dining table. "Astrid's room number is 718."

"She won't be returning. Do not leave, answer the door, your calls, or open the blinds. I 'will be' returning, but briefly."

In a flash, he was gone and Jane looked up at Thor. "I can't call in this soon, my vacation just ended."

"Loki wasn't asking, Jane. Something's awry." ***** Astrid had risen early and after seeking ice, dropped the bucket upon discovering Loki in her room. Accustomed to wearing Midgardian attire, her blue jean leggings contoured her shape, highlighted by a white tank beneath a second of mesh knit. Her blond waves cascaded down her breasts and she looked so virginal without makeup, his loins ached.

"Hello, my lovely."

Unsure what Thor had conveyed, she hesitated approaching. "Hi. I would offer you a drink but..." She knelt to gather the cubes and hide a falling tear. "I hav..haven't any liquor."

Loki lovingly gathered her into his arms. "Astrid."

"Forgive me, Min kjærlighet." She sobbed. "I made you run when needing me most."

He kissed her lips and cheeks. "I ran for a multitude of reasons, but have left Brianna sleeping to come for you."

"You knew I was on Midgard?"

"Not until recently and you mustn't be angry with Thor for not conveying so. He stayed silent at my request, even to Jane and was oblivious to our location. You mean the world to me as does Brianna now too, but something's gone wrong and I fear you're both in danger. It would take too long to explain and there's so much I must before you meet."

"Then let's return to Asgard. Wouldn't we be safe there?"

"We can't yet."

She slowly slid from his embrace, confused. "Brianna's in danger, yet isn't with you or Thor. She's with Tony and Pepper isn't she?"

"Yes, my lovely, but you can't be angry with them either. They've been wonderful to her."

"I'm not, I'm sad again. Everyone knew about her before me. What does that say about 'us', Loki? Are we okay?"

He embraced her again. "Yes. Darling, Tony, Pepper and Thor knew of her before I did too and you knew before Jane."

"Really? Wait, Thor lied to myself and your Mother?"

"Astrid, please. He had to, they too might be in danger and Brianna will panic if I'm not there when she awakens. Come with me to a temporary location until everybody's situated?" Loki kissed her hands. "It means being shielded from Heimdall for a while. If not, Thor can..."

She hastily kissed him. "I'm not returning to Asgard without you."

Loki wanted to bed her until she wailed his name so loud, her voice cracked every window in the hotel. "Prepare thyself, my lovely. You're going underground."

While she checked out, Loki ventured to Alberta and created her a lesser version of their bedchambers in Asgard.

Astrid caressed the beds plush duvet of greens and gold. "You replicated everything."

He conjured her luggage. "I wanted you to feel at home."

She smiled. "I'll be okay, Loki. Go."

With a newfound determination, Loki returned to Thor. "I thank the Valhallas you've dressed."

"You've seen me naked before, brother."

Loki addressed Jane. "He was playing nude hide and seek in the backwoods with some maidens, late for another archery lesson. Our father sent me searching. Without appearing rude, may we please have a moment alone?"

She frowned at Thor. "I'll be in the garage inflating my bicycle tires."

Thor waited for the door to close. "You could've said we were teens. How have we been compromised?"

"Clever, brother."

"Are Brianna and Astrid safe?"

Loki nodded.

"Flying human and Virginia?"

"Not if Jane talks."

A loud growl from Thor soon had her running back inside. "Holy shit on a pogo stick!"

He was standing in the living room holding their heavy glass coffee table above his head with Loki in his face. "Throw that and it vanishes before landing."

"Then I'll break something else!"

"This is why I kept information from you! Think rationally, Thor. Your neighbors will post this all over social media. How will that benefit any of us?"

He gently placed it down. "Brother, he..a child?"

"I know, but please let me handle it my way?"

"She's your daughter. I respect that. What do you need from us?" Loki eyed Jane and Thor sighed. "Yes, you can trust her."

When he was done talking, she hurled on the carpet while Thor pondered murdering Fury.

Loki used magic to clean it up. "You have my instructions. No interfering."

"We understand, brother. Go." ***** After leaving the Savoy, Hannah had rushed to the nearest pharmacy and returned to her hotel, spitting sparks. "That lying bitch! Her little brat does have powers!" She checked out, checked into another across town and called her boyfriend. He answered from a plane on it's way to England.

"Hello, pretty lady. Did you enjoy your heart throbs play? Wish I could've come."

Hannah eyed the stolen silk tie Tom had used to bound her wrists the night before and deviously grinned. 'I don't. Hiddleston and I hooked up.' "Tom was amazing." 'With a dick that makes yours look microscopic.' "How was Mrs. Finkelsteins second facelift?"

"Useless, but she's rich. I bought you some new lingerie."

"Did you keep the receipt? I'm breaking up with you."

"Hannah, why? What will I tell my parents?"

"Life doesn't always work out as planned? Don't miss your connecting flight to Sweden. Bye."

She hung up, turned her ringer off and opened a box of black hair dye. "Now that I'm screwed, so are you 'Pepper Potts' and your billionaire boyfriend."

[chickensarentcheap]

Best Part of Me -Chapter 75

Warnings: none

Tagging: @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​, @alievans007​

Koen arrives shortly before ten in the evening. A paper bag full of bottles of booze under one arm and a tattered and weathered backpack slung over the other; looking slightly worse for wear, even for him. He’s always been dishevelled and unkempt at best, but the pace and the intensity of the job has taken its toll on him; his beard thicker and and boasting more strands of gray, his face and body remarkably thinner and marred by both old and fresh bumps, bruises and contusions that will definitely scar. But that old familiar glitter is still in his eyes; the one that speaks of mischievousness and trouble and gives away his quick and sometimes cutting tongue before he even opens his mouth. The last three weeks have been hell on everyone involved; physically AND mentally. Bodies being consumed by near constant pain, little sleep and poor diet while their brains are subjected to fear, stress, and the overwhelming worth that comes each step out the door and onto the street.

But it’s almost over; the finish line finally in sight. With the list complete, only Mahajan himself and Asif’s people remain; the latter extra hurdles they never expected to confront. No one ever stopped to consider that Mahajan’s reach extended further than India, or that anyone would be able to get to Neysa and Aarav. Nathan is nothing more than a ‘tag along’; extra weight that has to be carried. And his true involvement and whether or not he IS the mole, is yet to be determined. To an untrained eye, it would be easy to see Nathan as another victim; the multitude of injuries and the defiance caught on video. But there’s too many unanswered questions to just let him off the hook. Too much suspicion and things that can’t be explained revolving around his disappearance and sudden reappearance, and it would be foolish -and possibly deadly- to let your guard down around him.

“Am I ever fucking glad to see your ugly face,” Koen says, as he sets both bags down on the kitchen table and then tightly embraces Tyler.

This isn’t one of his usual hugs. It’s warm and genuine; filled with enormous relief and a little gratitude that they've both survived long enough to get a moment like this. And when he pulls away -holding Tyler at arms length, a hand coming up to clasp him on the back of the head before tightly cupping it- there’s something even more unfamiliar in his eyes: a shimmer of tears and honest, pure affection. Normally Tyler would jump on it and rib his old friend about something like that; in the same way Koen would do to him if the situation was reversed. But now is not the time. The last three weeks have felt like three years; everyone involved is exhausted and hurting and relying on nothing more than adrenaline -the hope of it all sending soon- to keep them going. And there’s the strong possibility that someone -or more than one person, even- won’t make it out alive. The realization that the person standing in front of you might not survive and this could very well be the last time you ever see them.

“You good?” Koen ruffles the hair at the back of Tyler’s head. “How you feeling? You sure look a hell of a lot better than the last time I saw you.”

“I’m alright, I guess. Could be better, could be worse.”

“What’s the pain like? That guy fucked you up pretty good.”

“I’ve had worse.” It’s not entirely a lie. When he’d woken in the hospital seven years ago, the agony had been intense; there hadn’t been a single inch of his body that hadn’t hurt. Since then he’s lived in chronic pain. Some days he’s able to manage and others he can barely get out of bed in the morning. This is a new level of discomfort; increasing and worsening mobility issues, the pins and needles in his right hand, the need for more and more meds to just take the edge off.

“Well you look good. Hell of a lot better than the last time I was with you. Which doesn’t take much, considering you were covered in your own puke and piss and I had to undress you and toss you in the shower.”

Tyler smirks. “I remember when that used to be a sign of a really awesome Friday night.”

Koen cracks a grin at that. “We’re both getting way too old for that shit. And you’ve past it, thank Christ. I honestly thought one day I’d show up at your place and find you dead. About time you smartened the hell up and got your shit together.”

“Guess all I needed was a kick in the ass.”

“A kick in the ass from the right person, you mean. ‘Cause I spent years kicking you in the ass and it did nothing but make you worse. I guess the kick had to come from a hot little brunette to have any effect on you.”

“Yeah…” Tyler grins. “...I guess it did.”

“Can’t say I blame you. She’d be all the motivation I’d need, too. Figure we should be both thanking our lucky stars that she came around when she did. Had it even been a couple months later…”

“Trust me; every day I’m grateful for that. Every goddamn day. For the past seven years.”

“Good. Because you should be. Because even though you were a fucking wreck, she stuck around. She could have easily taken one look at you and thought ‘damaged goods’ and hauled ass on out of there. And to be honest, I wouldn’t have blamed her. You were a lot to handle. She must be made of tough stuff, because she wasn’t afraid of your shut or to put a foot up your ass.

“She’s still not afraid of that. And she is. Tough. Strong. A lot stronger than she gives herself credit for.”

“That’s exactly what you need,” Koen declares. “A strong woman. Someone to challenge you and to keep challenging you. Although I do question her sanity. No one in their right mind would hook up with the likes of your sorry ass.”

“I lost my sanity a long time ago,” Esme says, as she descends the stairs. “Why do you think I have five kids? Do you think anyone with a shred of sanity left would do that to themselves?”

“I thought it was because he couldn’t stay off ya and you don’t know the word ‘no’.”

“I admit, it IS hard. He’s devastatingly handsome and can be very persuasive.”

“Devastatingly handsome?” Koen scoffs. “Sweetheart, you are blind as shit. How’s it going, kiddo?” He embraces Esme warmly, then presses a kiss to each cheek. “Looking lovely, as always.”

“Now who’s blind as shit? I look like the offspring of a dumpster fire and a train wreck. But I appreciate you trying to feed my ego.”

“Don’t even argue with her,” Tyler says. “For every good thing you bring up, she’s got five bad things that exist only in her own mind.”

Esme sighs. “In case you haven’t noticed, Tyler is either completely blind, or totally biased. Koen, if your wife asked you if she looked like a mess...and not a hot one...would tell the truth?”

“Telling the truth is the reason I have so many ex wives. But in all fairness, my ex wives WERE messed. Had any of them looked like you, I’d probably still be married and the happiest sonofabitch on the planet. Now tell me…” he slings an arm across her shoulders and pulls her into his side. “...he been treating you right? Because if he hasn’t…”

“He’s been a complete gentleman. Except for the times I don’t want him to be. And those are X rated and not for your precious little ears, so…” she presses a kiss to his cheek, then moves towards the fridge.

“I do not need to know about all the kinky shit you two do. You been keeping him in line? Making sure he pulls his weight? Because you tell me just one bad word, and…”

“He’s been amazing. Even more amazing than usual. Sorry, Koen; I’m not leaving him for you. Not yet anyway.”

“So you’re saying there’s a chance?” He grins, then nudges Tyler with his elbow. “You into sharing, mate?”

He scowls. “Fuck you. That’s my wife. What’s wrong with you?”

“Remember that one girl in Melbourne? About twelve years ago? The blond with the big…”

“There’s a woman in the room!” Esme pipes up, and snags a vitamin water from the fridge. “I do not need to hear these things.”

“You didn’t mind sharing her,” Koen points out.

“That was a random at a bar. That…” Tyler nods in Esme’s direction. “...is my wife. The mother of my kids. I don’t share. Not when it comes to her.”

“As much as I’d love to stay down here and listen to raunchy and disturbing stories from my husband’s sexual past, I have a bubble bath calling my name,” Esme says. “And quite frankly, I prefer to pretend he was somewhat innocent and virginal when we met.”

Koen snorts. “There’s been nothing innocent or virginal about him since he was about fourteen.”

She frowns. “I’m ignoring you now. I’m turning my ears off. Because I do not need to hear or know about these things. I’m going to go upstairs and pamper myself and do girly shit and you two can stay down here and talk about your sexual conquests. But I swear to God, if my ears start to burn, I will beat the hell out of both of you.”

“I would never do that,” Tyler assured her. “Talk about you like that.”

“He lies,” Koen speaks up. “He talks about you like that all the time. The things I know about you…”

“Fuck off,” Tyler snarls. “I’ve never talked about her like that with you. That’s wishful thinking on your part.”

“I’m just warning you both.” She places a hand on her husband’s hip, standing on her tiptoes as he leans down to press a soft, brief kiss to her lips. “I am in no mood for fuckery.”

“What are you in the mood for?” Koen quips, the mischievous glitter back in his eyes as he bounces up and down on his heels. “I hear chubby, balding guys can really get shit done.”

Tyler glares at him, then slaps him upside the head. “What the fuck is wrong with you? That’s my wife.”

“Sorry Grandpa Koen,” Esme smirks. “I’m a one man woman.”

“Grandpa Koen?” He feigns insults, a hand clasped over his heart. “That’s harsh. Why do you have to break a bloke’s heart like that?”

She grinning over her shoulder as she climbs the stairs. “Goodnight, boys.”

****

Two hours and a bottle and a half of scotch later, they sit at the kitchen table, reminiscing on days long past. Military missions served together and the camaraderie and the rare laughs and lighthearted moments while overseas. Hiking and camping and hunting trips that they’ve taken -along with Rata- and the handful of times they’d simply packed up and travelled for weeks on end; nothing where they ended up or how they got there.

He was nineteen when he first met Koen; fresh out of basic training, too cocky for his own good, and in desperate need of an attitude adjustment and real experience to knock the chip off his shoulder. Koen had been a staff sergeant then; already grizzled and combat weary and sick of the ‘little shits’ like Tyler that passed his way; the ones with their heads shoved up their own asses, who thought they were something special for getting through training in one piece. Koen had made it his personal mission to make his life as miserable as possible; treating him lower than dirty in order to rid him of what Koen had called ‘pukey personality’. He’d seen something in that nineteen year old kid; the promise of becoming a damn good soldier. And it had worked; all the physical and mental punishment completely broke him; transitioning him into someone he no longer recognized. It had unknowingly led to the worsening of some things; the toxic masculinity that had been beaten into him thanks to his old man, and a propensity to drink way too heavily. Being that good of a soldier...as nothing more than a killing machine in his eyes...had made him feel invincible; each successful tour leaving him feeling ten feet tall and bulletproof. And had eventually led him to the job and that sick and twisted desire to seek out one suicide mission after another.

“You alright?” Koen asks, as he pours himself another drink. “You got a little quiet on me there.”

“I’m alright,” Tyler confirms, and runs a palm along the side of his glass. It’s only his second of the night. Starting off by promising to pace himself; not wanting to drink too much considering the amount of painkillers -well beyond the prescribed amount- he’s been taking. But he’d quickly realized it was more than that. He simply didn’t enjoy it anymore; all the cravings and the need and the taste for it somehow disappearing since the incident a week and a half ago.

“You sure? Haven’t seen you look THAT serious in a long time. What’s going on?”

“I need you to do me a favor.”

“Sounds intense.”

“About as intense as it gets.”

Koen sips his drink. “What’s it about?”

Tyler pushes his glass aside and reaches into the side pocket of his cargo shorts. Pulling out a handwritten letter -two pages long- sealed in an envelope. And he issues a heavy, shaky sigh and offers it to his friend.

Koen’s eyes narrow. “What the hell is this?”

“If anything happens to me, you have to give this to Esme. I need her to read it. She HAS to read it.”

“Fuck you, Tyler,” the older man snarls. “I’m not taking no death letter.”

“You have to. You NEED to. If anything happens to me…”

“Stop talking that shit. I won’t listen to it. I won’t…”

“I need you to fucking do this!” he snaps, then roughly grabs his friend’s hand and shoves the letter into it. “She needs to read it. And I need you to give it to her. You keep it and if anything happens to me, you make sure she gets it. This is important to me, okay? I need her to read it. And I need you to promise me that you’ll make sure she does.”

“Why wait? Why wait until it’s too late? Why not tell her these things now? So she knows. Wouldn’t you rather she knows before? Why the fuck…?”

“She knows. She knows I love her. She knows I love her with everything I am and everything I have. But there’s things in there I can’t say. Or I feel like I can’t say properly. And I NEED her to know those things. If something happens to me, it’s important she knows. I need you to do this.”

Koen downs half of his drink and then stands up, reluctantly sliding the envelope into the back pocket of his jeans. “You’re a pain in my ass, you know that? The things I don’t fucking do for you. Taking a goddamn death letter.”

“Just promise you’ll give it to her. If I don’t make it out of here, promise me you’ll make sure she gets that. You have no idea how important it is to me.”

“I’ll make sure. What about your kids? They might like something from their daddy. You know...if…”

“I already did something for them. A video. Ovi has it. He’ll make sure they see it. And that Addie will watch when she’s old enough to understand.” It’s on the tip of his tongue to tell him about the new baby, but mere though of it...the realization that he could leave a pregnant wife behind and there’d be a child he’d never get to see- is just too fucking painful. Ovi knows; he’d made the kid take a vow of secrecy after telling him to make sure all the kids saw the video when they’re old enough. Even the one that’s still inside their mother’s belly.

“Well let’s hope she never has a reason to read it,” Koen says. “And that those kids never have to see that video. You do whatever it takes to get your ass out of there. Alive. And I’ll do whatever I have to on my end to make sure it happens. This isn’t it. It CAN’T be it. Not when you just found all of this. A wife and kids. A family. A REAL goddamn family. This can’t be it.”

“I sure as fuck hope it isn’t.” He doesn’t bother to hold back the tears that manage to escape; hot against his skin as they slip down the sides of his nose and his cheeks. His chest burns and aches. Not the kind of agony that comes with anxiety, but the suffering that comes with heartache and grief and tremendous loss. Not even the swallow of scotch -in an attempt to clear the lump of emotion from his throat- helps, and he places an elbow on the table and his palm against his forehead. Eyes closed as he struggles to keep it together.

“It’s alright,” Koen’s voice is surprisingly quiet and calm, and there’s an audible creak as he leans forward in his hair; hand both heavy and comforting against the back of Tyler’s head. “It’s alright now, son. It’s okay to be like this. You can be this way with me. I got you.”

“If it was just me, I wouldn’t give a shit,” his voice cracks with emotion as the tears continue to fall. “Seven years ago, I wouldn’t have cared if I made it out. But now I have her and I have my kids and I can’t...I can’t leave them. I’m not ready to leave them.”

“No one says you’re going to. It’s not a sure thing. You’re a tough, stubborn bastard.”

“I don’t want to die. I don't want this life to be over. Before her, I was ready. I wanted to die; I wanted all the bullshit to be over. I hated my life and I hated myself and I didn’t fuck care if someone put a bullet in me. And I then I met here and everything changed. I changed. She didn’t look at me like I was a pathetic, cowardly piece of shit and she made me feel things I hadn’t felt in a long time and I never thought I’d feel again. And maybe it was wrong; how things happened, where they happened. But it felt right. For the first time in a long time, something felt right. Something felt good. It felt fucking amazing. And I should have pushed her way. I should have stopped it. But I didn’t. Because I didn’t want it to stop. I didn’t want to lose her.”

“It was a weird situation maybe,” Koen says. “But it doesn’t mean it was wrong. Look how things turned out. Look at the life you made. Together.”

“I don’t want that life to be over. I don’t want to leave her. Or my kids. I want to grow old and gray with her and I want to see my kids graduate high school and go to college and get married and have kids of their own. I want ALL of that. But I’m fucking terrified none of will happen. That when I left my kids this morning, that was it. That I’ll never see them again. That I won’t even get to see Addie take her first steps or celebrate her first birthday. There’s so much I don’t want to miss and I’m scared I will.”

“I know…” Koen’s fingertips dig into his scalp as he firmly massages it. “...I know…”

“Everything that is good in me is because of her. Because she found it and she brought it out. And she’s the best fucking thing that’s ever happened to me. Her and those kids. And I’m not ready to leave them.”

“And you’ll do whatever it takes to make sure that doesn’t happen. And so will I on my end. I’ve got you. I’ll bust my ass to make sure you get back to your family. You hear me?”

“Yeah,” he nods, and uses his elbow to push his friend away. “I hear ya.”

“You good? You get it all out?”

“I think so. I guess I needed to do that; get it out.”

“You’ve been trying to hold it together for her,” Koen reasons, and returns to his seat. “But even guys like you need someone you can fall apart with. And I guess that someone is me; lucky bastard that I am.”

Tyler gives a small laugh, then uses the back of his hand to clear the remaining tears away. “There’s something else.”

“Jesus Christ. Are you trying to kill me?”

“Esme knows what she has to do; if something happens to me. She knows to take the money and the kids and leave. But I need someone to keep their eye on them. I need someone to make sure they’re okay. No matter where they end up. And I know this a hell of a lot to ask…”

“I’ll do it. You know I will.”

“Wherever they go, I need you to go with them. You don’t have to stay forever. Just until she’s doing alright and the kids are settled and doing okay. And if you could do that for me…”

“I already said I would. I’ll make sure they’re alright. Nothing will happen to them. Not on my watch,”

“But I swear to God, if you even think of making a move on her, I will come back and haunt your ass.”

Koen laughs at that, then reaches across the table to tousle Tyler’s hair. “You’re going to be okay, you hear me? You’re going to get out of this. You’re going to walk in there, get shit done, and you’re going to walk back out and go back to your family. And then all of this...all this talk...will have been for nothing.”

“I hope so,” Tyler says, and downs the remains of his drink. “I really fucking hope so.”

****

It’s just past one in the morning when he steps into the master bedroom, moving about it’s darkened confines with the aid of the moonlight. Removing the holster and gun from his hip and placing it in the top drawer of the nightstand, then slipping out of his shorts and t-shirt; tossing both on top of the open duffle bag that sits in front of the closet. And he briefly lingers at the side of the bed, listening to her soft breathing and watching as her body rises and falls with each inhale and exhale. Sound asleep; on her side with her back towards the door.

The pain in his chest and the knot in his stomach return with a vengeance; those thoughts of possibly never getting those moments with her again. He can’t get it out of his mind; how close he’d been to ending things only to find someone -when he hadn’t expected to- capable of snatching him off that ledge. Seven years. Spent with the person that saved him in every way a person can be saved. Who has proved time and time again that she loves every inch of him; all the good, all the bad, and everything in between. Every imperfection, every scar; both inside and out. Who taught him what it was to love again; to actually laugh and smile. And who has helped him make even more life; selflessly giving up her own body to do it.

How do you ever tell that person how you feel? Especially when you don’t think there’s words that can even come close to describing it?

Slipping into bed behind her, he presses his front to her back; lips in her hair as he trails his fingertips across her shoulder and slowly down her arm. Over the curve of her elbow and down to her wrist before moving along the top of her hand and then each finger. Memorizing every inch through touch; her skin soft and beautiful. Pressing a kiss to the back of her head when she pushes her fingers through his and tightly squeezes.

“What time is it?” she sleepily inquires.

“It’s late.”

“How late?”

“Just after one.”

“You been drinking?”

“Just had a couple,” he admits, then moves their joined hands down to her stomach. Smiling at the feel of that little bump. It’s smooth and it’s soft and even after four others, it’s incredible. The mere thought that there’s a living being in there. One that he had a hand in making. “Sorry.”

“For what?”

“I shouldn't have had any. Once an alcoholic, always an alcoholic, yeah?”

“Honestly, I’m surprised you HAVEN’T drank. That you’ve fought as hard as you have. I wouldn’t have blamed you or thought less of you if you’d slipped. This has been hell on earth.”

“I don’t want to be that guy anymore. I NEVER want to be him again. You deserve better than that. So do our kids.”

“You’re a good man, Tyler Rake. Regardless of what you think about yourself sometimes. I knew it the moment I met you; that you weren’t like everyone else. It was in your eyes. There was this softness and this vulnerability and it was unlike anything I’d ever seen in any of the other mercs I’d come in contact with. You were different. I remember the first time we were here, and we’d have those long, serious talks that went into the early hours of the morning and I’d wonder how the hell someone like you ever got mixed up in a world like this.”

“Yeah, well we both know the reason behind that. I didn’t exactly hide it from you.”

“But you could have. And you didn’t. Right off the hop you were so honest and raw and it was...I don’t know it...it was beautiful.”

“Oh fuck...not THAT word.”

“It was, “ she insists. “It WAS beautiful. Because you were just so out there with everything. You didn’t hold anything back. There’s nothing you DIDN’T tell me. You told me about your mom and you dad. Your ex. Austin. You were just so breathtakingly real and honest and it was refreshing. To be with someone like that. Who didn’t try and pretend to be something he wasn’t. It was raw and it was emotional and I SAW you. And you let me see you. That was definitely not just two people using each other for sex. Now, had you just rolled over and gone to sleep…”

He laughs into her hair. “I never wanted THAT.”

“It was surprising. Not the things you told me, but the fact you told me at all. I didn’t expect that from you.”

“I didn’t expect that from myself,” Tyler admits.

“Why did you do it? Just open up like that?”

“I don’t know. I guess I just trusted you. Guess there was something about you that made me feel comfortable doing it. A lot of what I told you? No one else knows that stuff. Not even Koen. Guess my instincts told me you were good people. Very good people.”

“You thought you could scare me away didn’t you. When you told me about Austin. You thought that would make me think less of you.”

He nods.

“You made a mistake. You were younger and you were scared and you made a bad decision.”

“Worst possible decision.”

“It didn’t even come close to scaring me away. It made my heart hurt for you. And him. But it didn’t make me think less of you. I could never think less of you.”

“So no matter what, you’ll always think the sun shines out of my ass?”

She giggles. “Always.”

He raises his head to press a kiss to the corner of her mouth, then rests his cheek against hers. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“It’s okay. I hadn’t been sleeping for very long. I’m having a hard time. I miss the kids.”

“So do I. But Koen called and checked up on them for us. Everything’s fine. They’re happy and they’re safe and they haven’t beaten the shit out of each other. Yet.”

“Yet,” she laughs. “That’s the key word. And we both know who the one beating the shit out of people will be.”

“Yep. Your daughter has quite the temper.”

“She’s just my daughter now, is she? And who do you think she gets her temper from?”

“You.”

“Oh bullshit. She’s just like you and you know it. And you’re proud of it, too. Don’t even try and deny it. I know you how much like that fact that she’s your mini me.”

“She’s my baby. My first. Well, my first after...you know…”

“Your miracle baby.”

He smiles and places a kiss to her temple. “Exactly. She’s one that made me a dad again. Never thought in a million years I’d get another chance at that. And then she came along. I mean, you did have a little part to play in all of it.”

“Just a little. I only carried her for nine months. And then what happens? She comes out just like you. Even the nurse in the delivery room had to point it out; how she had your eyes and your nose and your ears and your hair. I was like, well fuck you too then.”

Tyler laughs and presses a kiss to her cheek.

“I remember when the nurse gave her to you and you just tucked her into you and she stopped crying and she just looked up at you with those huge eyes.”

“And I cried.”

“Yeah…” she smiles and tightens her hold on his hand. “...you cried. And it was beautiful. You were so happy that she was finally here. I think it was the happiest I’d ever seen you. It was like all the pain and all your past was just gone and your face was so soft and so perfect. Nothing existed outside of her. And you looked at her like you couldn’t believe she was even real.”

“She was beautiful. She still is.”

“I think at that moment...seeing you with her...I fell so in love with you. Even more than I already was. And it was kind of crazy and scary, because I already loved you a hell of a lot. I didn’t think it was possible to love someone THAT much. Sometimes I still don’t. I’ll watch you with Addie or playing with Declan or helping TJ and Tanner with their homework and I’ll think ‘God, I love him’.”

He grins against her ear. “And you have the nerve to call me sappy?”

“I can’t help it. I’m feeling all sappy and emotional. I think it’s the fact we’re back here. Of all places. It makes me think about us. How we started and where we’ve ended up. All good things. All very good things.”

“I was thinking about when I woke up in the hospital and you were there. How you were the first person I saw and I was so fucking relieved you were there. I didn’t know if you even made it off the bridge. And even if you did, if you’d stick around.”

“Of course I stuck around,” she releases her hold on his hand and rolls over onto her side to face him. “I went to all that trouble to keep you alive. You really think I wouldn’t stick around to see the result of my handiwork?”

“I guess not.” He presses a kiss to the tip of her nose then drapes a leg over her and places a hand on the small of her back.

“You okay?”

“I’m okay.”

“You’re worried, aren’t you. About tomorrow. Or today. About me going out there.”

“Yeah, I am.”

“You know how you always say you’re not a rookie? Well neither am I.”

“I know. But it doesn’t make me feel any better about it Especially when you have my baby in there.”

“I’ll be careful. I’ve had seven years of learning from the best. And Koen will be with me. He’ll make sure I’m okay.”

“He better. Or it’s his ass.”

“You have to trust me. I’d never do anything to put myself...or this baby...in harm’s way.”

“I do. I do trust you.”

“What if I can’t get the information? What if no one will give me any? Then we’re totally fucked. And not a good, fun way either.”

“If that happens, we go to plan B.”

“You let them know you’re here.”

Tyler nods.

“What’s plan C?””

“There is no plan C.”

“Maybe there should be. So we don’t have to rely on plan B.”

“Baby…” he skims his knuckles up and down her spine. “...we talked about this.”

“I’m allowed to change my mind And I’m changing it. That is NOT a good idea; letting them know you’re here. What ever happened to the element of surprise? It goes a long way. They want to lure you here, but they don’t need to know you’re here.”

“I’ll only go to plan B if you can’t get me information.”

“Okay…” Esme frowns. “...that is a lot of peer pressure. I haven’t done this in awhile. Since before Addie.”

“Addie’s only three months old. It’s not like she’s a year or a couple years.”

“So what? Ten months? Since I did this kind of thing? We found out about her during all of that.”

“Who’s the one that found out where Ovi was?”

“That took me four days.”

“It took Nik a week just to narrow down Dhaka,” he points out.

“Four days is horrible. My track record was way better than that before. Four days is embarrassing.”

“You’re too hard on yourself.”

“I should have had it in twenty four hours. Thirty six at the most.”

“I’m kind of glad it took as long as it did. I had a pretty good five days.”

“Okay, I’ll give you that much. It wasn’t a TOTAL failure. But four days? For me? That is shameful.”

“If it makes you feel better, it only took two from the day you showed up on my porch to convince me to sleep with you.”

“Oh, I had to convince you now, did I? You admitted you would have done it the first night had I wanted a booty call.”

“Well then you should be very proud of yourself. It only took you a couple hours to convince me to give it up.”

“Sorry if I don’t feel my ego inflated because you were horny and desperate.”

“Hey, if I’d been desperate, I would have fucked Nik.”

“That…” she scrapes her nails along his jaw and then taps a fingertip against his chin. “... is a very good point actually. I’m glad you held out an extra couple of days. I hope it was worth it.”

“It was SO worth it.”

“I was very impressed. When I see you naked. I had expectations.”

He arches an eyebrow. “You did?”

“I did. Very high ones, actually. You lived up to them. And then some. You definitely fit the old ‘big hands, big feet’ adage. I wanted to see if it was a myth. I quickly found out it was not.”

“You also thought the G spot was a myth.”

“I found out pretty quick that it isn’t. You were really on the ball those five days.”

“Had to leave a lasting impression,” Tyler reasons. “Wanted you to come back for me.”

“You left a lasting impression, alright. One that lasted nine months and weighed eight pounds, three ounces. That’s quite the impression to leave.”

“I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m really not. That’s the one good thing...the one amazing thing...that came out of all that bullshit. Besides us.”

“Nice to see you finally admit we’re a good thing,” she teases. “I think we’re pretty amazing. But hey, that’s just my humble opinion.”

“We are. We are pretty amazing.”

“And we’re stronger together than we are apart. You’ve always said that. And that’s why we need to trust each other. With this. We have to trust each other more than we ever have. That’s the only way we’ll get out of here. That we’ll BOTH get out of here.”

He gives a small smile of agreement, then runs his palm up her back and all the way to the nape of her neck; squeezing lightly as he pulls her into a kiss. Long and slow at first; closed mouth upon closed mouth and their bodies brushing against each other. It’s her that takes the first step towards turning it into something more. Fingers pushing into his hair and tightly gripping it; pressing her body against his as her tongue pushes its way past his lips and teeth. Quickly transforming the moment into something much more desperate and needy.

“I want you,” she breathes, her lips finding the side of his neck, teeth scraping against the tattoo and the scar that mars the skin. “I want you and I need you. I need to feel you inside of me.”

He shudders at her words, then leans his weight into her and pushes her onto her back. Her fingers still in his hair and her eyes fluttering closed as his hands and his mouth behind their slow, torturous worship of her body.

[teatitty]

that looks like a thicc brunette Jason to me which gives me an idea, what if he used the grail to dye his hair blonde

Do u wanna see what he looked like in the Studio Deen adaptation of the Stay/Night route cuz it’s some real “Fionn in Zero” fuckery

Anyway I guess Jason used the grail to make himself a blonde twink lmao

[buckysforeverprincess]

It’s Going Down -Vegas 6

Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader, Marvel Characters

Words: 981

Warnings: Drunken talk, confrontations

A/N: Shit is about to go down. That is all.

“Enough!” Wanda puts her hand over the Long Island, not allowing you to drink anymore. “You've already had four shots, and correct me if I'm wrong, drinking is how you got into this mess in the first place!” The woman reminds you and you scowl back at her.  

“Leave me to my own demise, woman! And technically it's five. I had one before Tony showed up.” You remove her hand from your glass. “Close your eyes and pretend it's all a bad dream…that's how I get by.” You laugh and take a sip of your drink, letting its deliciousness slide down your throat.

“Listen, Captain Jack…” Wanda grabs the drink out of your hand and puts it down in front of herself. “This is a Long Island and not rum! And you can't close your eyes and pretend…this shit is ruining Nat’s wedding day!” Your best friend is glaring at you, and you think you're starting to see two of her. “So... pull up your granny panties, and get in there and handle this mess before you're too inebriated and won't understand what the hell is going on!” She's raised her voice at you and feel like a kid being punished by their mother.

Turning your head back to the action behind you, the fuzziness starts to kick in. Too much, too quick, and now you're about to pay for your lack of impulse control. What is it about this place that makes you want to just drink?

“Hey!” Your voice is loud, and you have no fucks left to give. The fighting stops and they all turn their heads, eyes now fixed on you. The liquid you'd been drinking was giving you a new sense of courage and you were finally ready to get your answers.

“Wha tha’ fuck, Steeb?!” You tried your best to sound as sober a possible. It sounded right. Possibly lacking a few syllables. Sober Y/N and drunk Y/N could fight about it tomorrow.

“Boyfriend? Who-yeah, you're gay-obviously, cause-fuck, he's-Jesus!” Somehow that made sense to you, but gauging the looks you were now receiving, you failed miserably.

“Steve here was just explaining to us what an ass bag he was for omitting he has a boyfriend,” Natasha says angrily through gritted teeth.

“Had!” Steve quickly corrects her, and Bucky rolls his eyes.  

“Had, doesn't come looking for you in Vegas trying to get back together. Had doesn't look like a kicked puppy knowing that Steve is now a married man. And had certainly doesn't stand there at your side looking like he wants to murder your wife, even though she had no idea that they even existed in the first place!” Tony yells at Steve and Bucky just shrugs his shoulders.

“Look, can I just talk to her, please?” Steve pleads with your group of friends.

“No fucking way we're letting you in a room alone with her again!” Clint shouted at the taller blonde. When had he showed up?

“Oh, my fucking god! Will you all shut the fuck up and let me think for a god damned moment!” Everyone stops to look at you, shocked that your sentence structure was precisely accurate given the amount of alcohol in your system. “One night of fuckery, and suddenly I have…one, two, three, four parents!” You said loudly as you pointed at Wanda, Nat, Clint, and Tony. “I think I'm fully capable of handling this situation on my own!” The alcohol starting to take its effect and you feel yourself wobble on your feet and right into Steve’s arms.

“Yes, you're doing a fantastic job,” Natasha says sarcastically as she reaches out for you, but Steve has a firm grip on your body.

“I'll take her with me.” He gives her a challenging look, and you think it's slightly arousing. This man is about to start a war with your best friend. Aww, nice knowing you Steve.

“There's no way I'm letting her leave here with you!” The redhead moves in to grab at you, but is stopped by Steve’s boyfriend? The hot brunette places himself between her and you in an act of dominance and control.

“You don't have a choice. They're married, and as much as none of us likes it, he's taking her back to the hotel and putting her to sleep. She'll call you in the morning and we can pick this up when all parties are sober!” He looks back at you glaring, and you felt just a little bit smaller knowing that comment was directed at you.  

Nat looks like she's seething right now, but you can see Clint say something in her ear and she eases just a bit. “Fine!” The woman concedes. “He can take her...for now.”

Bucky? You think that's his name, nods at your best friend.

“But I'm still coming for his balls! And if anything, else happens to her, I’ll snatch your balls too and feed them to a meat grinder.” She throws the promise at the man.

“Unlike Steve, I don't play nice or fair. I'll put you on ice, before you lay a hand on my balls, pretty lady.” There's a curtness to his words and Nat just scoffs at him.  

“Come on, Steve. Carry your bride, and let's go!” Bucky's words are cold, and he turns away, walking back to the entrance, leaving the two of you behind.

“He's charming.,” you let out, followed by a drunken laugh.

“Let's get you back and put you in bed.” Steve picks you up bridal style like you weigh nothing at all.  

“Goodnight, sweet prince. Nat’s gonna kill you in the morning.” There was a smile upon your lips when you look up at your husband, his eyes a beautiful blue. It was the last thing you said before you closed your eyes and let the sounds of Vegas lull you into a restful, drunken sleep.

[calisunshinereyes]

@soldier-on76 cont’d Hanahaki --- “ Oh Jack.” Gabriel doesn’t let it get to him. Doesn’t let it show that the empathy makes the flowers scratch at his chest. They pile into his throat. He swallows them down, down down- because what else can he do? Tell the other man that they’re because of him? No... He already paused his wedding to see Gabriel ‘recover’. He would see Gabriel die because that was how it went, and then take his happy ending at last. Jack deserved that, deserved to be happy; Vincent was infinitely patient with Jack’s worry over him. He had told Vincent to look after Jack well, that as his best friend and best man, he’d kick his ass otherwise. The good natured brunette had taken him seriously and vowed to do so. Once they had the official party the flowers that had been tickling his ribs for the last two years finally bloomed enough that Jack found out when Gabriel took leave to see a specialist. A hanahaki specialist, the kind that quietly offered two options. Hospice, or surgical removal. He’d refused both for now. His breathing while labored was kept in check with his enhancements constantly trying to heal his wounded heart and lungs. So he smiles and thanks his luck that blood doesn’t spot his lips. That he isn’t hypoxic, that his lips aren’t turning blue along the inside and his eyes blood shot from coughing and his nose bloody from the pressure in his head from said coughing. That Jack hasn’t seen the sunflower and forget me not petals, the chrysanthemums and marigolds. Worse of all? The Lily of the Valley that made his head swim occasionally with their poisonous sweet kiss. He was happy that Jack was happy, even if it meant it wasn’t WITH him. “ There is no telling them. If there was, I would have. I’m sorry... I had hoped that the Reyes curse was going to pass me by. Guess I’m just unlucky that way. Reyes men die of broken hearts so easily.” His gaze softens for the blonde, smiling gently,” Its okay Jack. If you don’t want to be around as this happens that’s fine too. I understand trust me. I’ve watched the Hanahaki wasting. Its really ugly and the doctors don’t really know how long I’ve got cause of the genetic fuckery... You should pick your wedding back up. Tie the knot with Vince. I wanna see it!” Not really. That’s what a best man would do though so he perks and tries to nudge him with his elbow.

[amusewithaview]

Certain Doom (DA Soulmate AU)

A/N: I am not even remotely sorry.

“So have you chosen a canon Inquisitor yet?”

Yes!  My first elf girl who romanced Cullen.

canon quiz?

“Whichever character you use to build the world state for your next game is the canon,” Lisbeth explained.  “Mine is an elf, too, and I romanced Cullen, too.  I’ll fight you for him, Ashley!”

u guys and your jocks i swear i only have the one playthrough and i’m romancing solas for the lols so idk my canon is unwritten undefined so we’ll see i guess?

We can share him, Liz.

Thunder rolled, rattling the windows and making Lisbeth jump.  “Oof!  It’s storming here so I might cut out,” she said apologetically.  “If that happens I’ll just restart the stream, no worries.”

Storming here too!  Ashley replied in the chat.

yeah same  Hayden agreed.  weird

“It’s not that weird.  Storms happen.  Speaking of, how should I upgrade Bethany, you guys?  Do I make her an ice mage, or...?”

One second, storm is picking up and I need to check my windows.

ICE ICE BABY

Back!  Is Force mage unlocked yet?  Been forever since I played DA2...

ICE ICE BABY!!!

OMG fine do ice or Hay will never let it go.

Let it gooooo, let it gooooo, can’t hold it back anymooooooore!

“Okay, ice it is,” Lizbeth said, smiling at her friends’ antics.

FUCK THAT WAS CLOSE SHIT SH

you ok Ash???

“Ash?”

o fuck ME

“Hay?” Lisbeth called, frowning at the chat log.  She waited a few seconds before calling their names again.  The number count on her stream hadn’t changed, so their systems were still logged on and watching her playthrough.  But... they weren’t answering.  The hairs on Lisbeth’s arms and the back of her neck stood on end all at once.  She shivered, looking to the windows where the constant flicker of lightning kept illuminating the driving rain.

It looked like the lightning was getting closer, maybe she should-

Her world dissolved into brilliant white.

Too late.

It took three blinks for Ashley to realize something was wrong.  That wasn’t her ceiling, this wasn’t her bed - what the hell?  She sat up and looked around.  To her left was a person, curled up with their back to her.  To her right, another person, curled up with their back to her.  She made out red hair to her left and dark brown to her right.  Ashley was the only conscious one, and while that remained true, she intended to find out as much as she could.

She stood up and dusted herself off, frowning when she realized that her clothes had been changed.  She’d been in pajamas, but now she wore a green coat over a simple gray tunic and pants.  There was a soft gray cloth wrapped loosely around her neck and when she felt behind her head she found a hood.  Hayden ran her fingers over her hair - wrapped in a complicated braid and significantly longer than she remembered it being - and froze when her fingers encountered delicate fleshy points.

Pointed ears.  Elf ears.  What?

“Oh.  Ow.”

Hayden turned and saw that the brunette was sitting up, one hand to her head.  Now that her hair had shifted, she could see that this person also had pointed ears.  “Hey...” Ashley said, awkwardly waving.

The brunette looked up, squinting and revealing large, luminous hazel eyes set in a delicately featured face that screamed Disney Princess™.  “Ashley?” she said, looking confused.  “You look...elfy.”

“Hayden?!”  Ashley dropped to her knees and immediately grabbed the smaller elf into a bear hug.  “Hate to break it to you, but you are also elfier than normal.  Wait, is there a normal amount of elfiness we should be shooting for?”

Hayden laughed and hugged her back.  “No clue.  Think that’s Lisbeth?”

They broke apart and turned to the last person, still unconscious on the ground.  “By process of elimination, probably?  But where are we, why are we elves, and what the hell happened?”

“Search me.”

There was a low groan from the third person, and then vicious grumbling in what Ashley recognized as German.  The body on the ground flopped over, revealing a thunderous expression made even more ominous by the thick brows overshadowing dark eyes that looked-

“Lisbeth?”

“Ja?  I mean, yes,” the redhead said, sitting up.  “What-?”

“It’s me, Ashley, and that’s Hayden.  I think...well, I think we might be in Dragon Age?  Somehow?”  She sat back on her heels and clenched her hands into fists on her thighs, trying not to freak out while she sorted her thoughts verbally.  “We’re all elves now?  And you look like that picture of your Inquisitor you showed me screenshots of, and Hayden looks like the Inquisitor she’s been streaming, so I-”

“You’re blonde, and very tall, and look sort of like a cat,” Lisbeth said bluntly.  “Actually, the eyes are kind of creepy in this light...”

“I think they look cool,” Hayden said, giving her an appraising look.

“Not important right now, guys!  We might be in Dragon Age!  Dragon Age!”

“Yes, but where?” Lisbeth asked.

“And when?” Hayden chimed in.

“Hell if I know, but we need to find out, fast.”

It took mere minutes for them to sort out what they could, because it wasn’t much.  They confirmed that yes, all of them had been morphed into their canon Inquisitors (only Inquisitor, in Hayden’s case), but with a few small changes.  Hayden’s hair was significantly darker, almost black in the dim light of the tunnel they’d found themselves in.  Lisbeth’s eyes were purple, which made her mutter about Mary Sues and bad fanfiction.  Ashley’s eyes had been green in her Inquisitor’s canon, but the switch to amber-gold didn’t bother her, since it added to the, as Lisbeth put it, ‘creepy cat’ aesthetic.

None of them had the vallaslin they remembered choosing.

They were all wearing what looked like a facsimile of the Inquisitor’s gear in the game’s opening, minus most of the armor.  Each of them identically outfited in green, gray, and brown.  They had no weapons, and only thirty copper coins between them.

“We’re fucked,” Lisbeth said.

“Don’t be so negative,” Hayden chided.

“We’re fucked!” Lisbeth repeated, this time in a faux-happy chirp.

“We’re Schroedinger’s Fucked,” Ashley said.  “Our state of fuckery is yet to be determined because we still don’t know where or when we are.  Lets follow the tunnel and see where it leads.”  She looked down the tunnel.  She could only make out another fifteen feet before it took a sharp turn out of sight.

“You going anytime soon?” Hayden asked.

She shifted on her feet.  “Yes, just-”

“Let’s go!”

Lisbeth and Ashley exchanged grim looks before following Hayden down the tunnel.  It took another ten minutes of walking before they saw signs of habitation.  There was an offshoot to their tunnel that led to a door.  Since the door had three obvious traps and probably at least twice as many ones they couldn’t see, they kept going.

Eventually, after several more nerve-wracking minutes, they emerged into a larger area, lit with torches.  There were a few people waiting outside of what looked like a house, built up against a curve in the cavern’s wall.  There was a sign by the door of the house, and the sight of it made Lisbeth grab both of her companions and yank them to a halt.

“We’re in Kirkwall!”

“Fuck,” Hayden sighed.  “I haven’t played this one yet.”

“Yeah, well, it’s been several years since I played this one,” Ashley muttered.

They both turned and raised their eyebrows at Lisbeth.

“I haven’t played it in two years!  I was in the prologue!”

“Do you remember what you chose?  Odds are, we’re in your worldstate...” Ashley pointed out.

“Um... I was playing a Rogue Hawke, male because-” she paused and smirked at Ashley.

“Shut up,” Ashley hissed.  She could feel her ears twitching as she glared.  She swept her hands up and clamped them down over the pointed ends.  “Shit, this is going to take some getting used to.”

“You’re one to talk,” Lisbeth muttered.  “At least your ears are normal sized.”  She reached up and poked at one of her own ears, easily the largest of the three of them.  They’d all gone for wildly different looks when designing their Inquisitors.  Aside from being elves, they couldn’t have looked more different from each other if they’d tried.

“Guys!  Focus!” Hayden said, scowling at them.

“Okay, so we’re in Kirkwall.  Great, not ideal but it could probably be worse.  Now, when are we?” Ashley said.

“Well, if the clinic is there, then Anders will be there,” Lisbeth pointed out.

“Great!  Let’s go, then,” Hayden said, turning on her heel and heading for the building.  The other two scrambled after her, reluctant to enter but utterly unwilling to be left behind.

The clinic was large, and appeared to be in the process of expanding.

“Act Two!” Lisbeth murmured.  “Must be!”

“Maybe not,” Ashley replied.  “Look, there’s-”

“Can I help you?”

The voice had all three of them turning to face the speaker.  There was a tall human male with reddish hair pulled back into a half-tail striding towards them.  He had a thick coating of stubble lining his jaw and looked tired.

“Oh!” Hayden cried out, curling over and falling sideways into Ashley.

“Is your friend ill?” Anders asked, speeding up.

Lisbeth raised her hands as if to ward him off: “She’s fine, thank you, we’ll just go now, we don’t want to be any-”

Ashley bodily picked up the smallest elf, backing away from the mage.

Too late, a wash of cool blue magic swept over the trio as Anders’ eyes lit from within.  “Wait, you-” he froze in place, eyes raking over each elf in turn.  “What have you-” he shook his head and swayed in place, eyes screwing tightly shut.  Suddenly, little wisps of light started to emanate from behind his closed eyelids.

Lisbeth shoved Ashley towards the door, “Now would be a good time to-”

“Run?”

“Yes!”

They booked it, ignoring the strange echoing cry that called for them to halt.

“What was that?” Ashley asked, poking Hayden in the forehead.

They’d sprinted till they’d found sunlight and what was probably the docks, based on the water, boats, and people bustling around.  They were seated on some barrels in an out of the way corner, catching their breath.

“Ouch!  Don’t Itachi me, you weirdo.”

“Well, stop Sasuke-style brooding, then.”

Hayden scowled, rubbing her hand over her heart.  “I don’t know, I felt...something.  Like a pull?  I don’t know how to describe it.  It got worse when I saw him, though.”

“That was Anders,” Lisbeth said, sounding shellshocked.  “Anders.”

“We’re in Kirkwall, yes, Anders is here,” Ashley said.

“We have to stay away from Anders,” Lisbeth said firmly.

Hayden grimaced, but didn’t say anything.

“Hey, Liz - have you always had that tattoo?”

Ashley’s words had her frowning: “Tattoo?  I don’t have-”

“Your hand, look at it.”

Lisbeth looked down at her hands, ignoring the way they’d gotten longer and skinnier since her transmigration into an elvhen body.  There was nothing on the backs of her hands, but on the palm of her right hand she found three symbols that looked like a cross between hieroglyphs and cuneiform.  The symbols were a vivid and sparkly pink.

“What the fuck?” she breathed.  “What the fuck!  What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fucking FUCK.”

“Shit, I think you broke Liz.”

“I didn’t mean to!” Ashley cried.

“What is this shit?” Lisbeth exclaimed before switching to German and going into a tirade neither of the other two could understand.  She paced back and forth in front of them, kicking out at the barrels and walls as she passed them.  Finally she stopped, fisted her hands at her sides, and yelled at the sky.

One of the barrels abruptly caught on fire.

“Hey, Liz?” Hayden called.

“WHAT.”

“I know this isn’t the best time, but I think you might be a mage, too.”

“FUUUUUUUUU-”

[captaincoffeegirl515]

I hate this so much jfc I was hoping it would be good but what the fuck they can't even get the HAIR right what is this dudes-can-only-have-short-hair fuckery where are the elegant braids and flowing locks why are the hairstyles so godawfully modern fuck this show gdi every time I see more pictures I feel rage why did they need to add some token black dude who's hair would be more fitting if he was a Vulcan why did they put the blonde lady in the laziest messiest 3 strand braid in history why does that brunette look like she's the protagonist of some shitty dystopian YA book-turned-movie why are they dressing everyone in clothes that you can buy in fucking h&m they put Aragorn in a fucking tshirt!!! I'm so mad rn

we’re just recreating aragorn now huh? you could’ve told the (interesting, different, homoerotic) story of isildur x sauron but we’re gonna get aragorn without the Viggo huh

not to mention a rehash of forbidden elf love. there were 400 elves that we’ve never seen, why did you need to create one

[artificialqueens]

London Is Burning (1/N/A) - Trixya - petrichor

AN; so, i decided to give my hand at writing fanfiction about two sweethearts that are very dear to my heart at the moment. this is just a story that i sporadically came up with from a random prompt and i have yet to properly plan it through. this is an prologue of sorts, setting the storyline and yes the title is a play on the documentary, but also a play on a old nursery rhyme.the main storyline is going to be trixya but there’s going to be a few little overlaps with other pairings.

i also write too much, so this introduction is long-winded and i also know that aaron and sharon are the same people, but i thought a lil overload of shalaska would be good to set the heartbreaking mood, because it’s going to be there the whole time, i promise you. any way, much love! an please tell me if you’d love for this to continue!

i’m a new writer and very happy to be here, so thank you so much for reading!

- petrichor

Summary: A Lesbian AU in which a determined FBI agent goes undercover in an drug ring in a unfamiliar country, coming face to face with the one woman she needs to burn to the ground: a quirky but dangerous Russian hooker turned drug cartel connoisseur.

She’d done a lot of things in her life, but mostly certainly being pulled into Scotland Yard at the dead of night, while still in her lingerie was one of her favourites.

 She’d gone willingly as they tightened handcuffs around her wrists and yanked her into the back of the police car, she’d smiled briskly as her bare flesh was scolded by the icy winter air and even shot a wink at the driver through the thick black mesh of the divider. With nothing but a set of her favourite underwear, an unbuttoned shirt and a pair of flip-flops, she’d been ripped from her bed and coaxed to the door where two burly and authoritive-looking policemen stood with their hands on their belts.

 Then fast forward to the uncomfortable shoving, the wind that flapped her shirt vigorously as it tumbled down the sleeping street and the bright lights of the police cars as they burned the insides of her eyelids. She’d quietly rested her head against the window as London flashed just beyond the glass, the dazed streets flashing by as she watched the streetlamps blur into a stream of warm flashes, like liquid streaming across the downcast buildings. There was something vivacious about the thought of it all, streets merging into one shadowed city as bursts of blue exploded from the glares of the police cars as they raced throughout the night. She could see it all, but in fast-motioned, the journey as short as the scolding of the crisp air as she was transferred out from the back of the car to the thick tiles of a busy police station.

 All eyes were on her as the men wrapped their hands around her upper arms, dragging her like a corpse through the reception. Her steady gaze could register the recognition on the people’s faces, the momentary distaste of the officer at the desk, and then the irritation that followed as she slammed her fist onto the button, letting the officers and societies latest casualty pass through into the heart of London’s force. Accusing eyes followed her every movement, every flash of flesh as she was manhandled roughly, the police holding no respect for her as she was a familiar name and face to the walls of Scotland Yard.

 She could almost retrace the steps, she’d memorised the route, the short journey that it took from the secretary- Broody Brunette, was the nickname that was essentially assigned to her because of her twisted expression and furrowed brow- to the ending game. Her eyelids drew downwards, her dark eyelashes falling across her pallid, gaunt cheeks. Her eyes rolled as she counted it. Two lefts, one stairs, fifth door up.

And before she knew it, her eyes were open and she’d been placed into the room that was almost as familiar to her as her own apartment.

 It was a rectangular room with no significance except from the momentary dread that hung around it. With monotonous grey walls, padded floors and the ever so discreet mirrored display, there was no furniture but the classic metal table and folding chair, alongside a lamp integrated into the high ceilings. As she was placed on the chair with nothing but a final look, she couldn’t help but bow her head, marvelling at how dramatic the lighting was. Everything about Interrogation Room Three was so moody, but, after all- so was the detective assigned to it. A smile was on her lips and there, right as she shook away the tousles of her blonde hair from her vision and bit back a yawn, came forth his grand entrance.

                “Oh, I’m sorry, did we wake you?”

The light highlighted the shadows under her eye-sockets and didn’t exactly skip the stress induced lines that framed her prominent brow bone. It was intense, almost as intense as his gaze. But she didn’t shiver; instead, she parted her cracked lips and gave him a smile that was slightly stained from nicotine. Then she spoke, her slow, drawl of a voice hitting the air like a slap on stone.

                “We have to stop meeting like this.”

 She’d spent enough time in this country to recognise sarcasm from a mile away, they loved it here. He’d burst into the room and  The stiff-upper-lip barely curled as he stared through her, the skinny little woman sat in front of him. She tilted her head to the side, giving him a strewed smile as his eye twitched.

 Like the room, she knew the man in front of her like the back of her hand: Detective Coady, a dominant and rather determined individual who she never hesitated to chastise whenever he took the liberty of chasing her down. It would happen ever so often; he’d send out a little warrant, maybe a little unless count of shop-lifting that would fall through the moment he sent out an enquiry for witnesses, and then he’d be bursting through her door like some sort of prince of shining fuckery.

She found it cute, really.  He must have been a real hit in his personal life.

 As he stared her down, as if trying to pull her skin apart and sear into her inner coil, she wondered what it was this time that she’d done. Last time, a few months ago, it’d been vehicular homocide—until she pointed out that she doesn’t even own a car and doesn’t even have a licence at that. There’d been a little bit of radio silence, which had both puzzled and excited her. She’d begun to enjoy their little night traipses and she figured that he had a little bit of a thing for her. After all, out of all of the other members of her drug cartel, she was always the only one he flocked towards.

                “Maybe you should stop breaking the law.” Was his reply. A man like Aaron Coady wasn’t known to beat around the bush. He was rather loud-mouthed and she knew that. She liked to take a bet every time she found herself in this room, in this chair, under this light. She liked to see how quickly she could get under his skin. Spoiler: she always surprised herself.

                “What did I do this time, detective?” She simpered softly, leaning forwards in her chair, her handcuffs lightly dusting the table-top. Her eyes glittered and he watched her stoically but closely. “Do you have some sort of, fantasy that I’m selling myself in Soho, huh?  Are you going to call me a prostitute? Ask me to spill all of my clientele and plead for my innocence?” She paused as he leaned away from her. “Because I’d be more than to give you some prime evidence—“

 The detective cleared his throat, and she cackled, falling back into her chair. She wasn’t a prostitute, almost had been at a few bumpy spots in her life, but there was something about the topic of sex and Coady’s favourite weapon—her wrists throbbed a little as she watched him barely contain the agitation in his eyes—that got her in the saucy mood.

                “Actually, I’m arresting you on a count of shop-lifting.”

The sound that left her lips was of mere dissatisfaction. She oh so looked forwards to his creative little stories: of how she’d viciously killed some old ladies cat, or how she was responsible for some crazy heist that was pulled straight out of spy film. This, on the other hand, had been used before.

                “Really?” The seductive growl that gravelled her tone was dropped. Instead, she sat pin-straight in the metal chair, brow furrowed and lips parted in an incredulous grin. “Are you kidding me, again? What the hell, are you beginning to just—run out of ideas now?”

                “We have evidence.” The detective stated simply, as if it was the one thing that would guarantee she would be deported from this country and shipped back to wherever it was that she came from. He was pretty sure she was American, but then again, even that could be a lie. After all, they didn’t even know her real name.

                “I’m terrified.” Was her reply.

 Sarcasm. She was getting the hang of it.

                “Have you given thought to our last talk?” Her attention withered from his intense features and she glanced down at her nails. Her stick-on acrylics were slightly broken from her rude awakening but she supposed that was what she got for getting them from PRIMARK. “Are you prepared to tell us your real name?”

                “I keep telling you, it’s Alaska.” She stated, rolling her eyes. “You checked my passport the first time. You ask me this a million hours of interviewing ago.” The detective pursed his lips; he didn’t believe her. People usually didn’t believe her that she was actually called Alaska, mostly because she did just lie about most of her life—girls that were into stuff like she did just did that sort of stuff because they had to. “Are you forgetful or are you just dumb? Your pretty face won’t get you far once you open your mouth and shit falls out.”

                Coady cleared his throat and drew a piece of paper from almost thin air. “I should ask you the same thing.”

Alaska quirked an eyebrow.

                “We have evidence that you were caught shoplifting an estimated sixty boxes of fake nails from PRIMARK in the city centre on the twenty-ninth of September.”

Fuck. Instantly, Alaska felt her skin crawl. In a glance that was inconceivable to the naked human eye, she glared at her cracked manicure. She didn’t need to barely even look at the snapshot from the security cameras. Her eyes slowly closed, as if she couldn’t even bare to see the smug look that unfolded over the detective’s face; she bit down on her lip.

 She knew that she shouldn’t have taken her friends advice; Willam was a decent enough girl but she was only capable of recommending two things. In any situation, she insisted on one of the two: blow him or steal it. The pronouns were interchangeable, which they’d all discovered when Willam had unceremoniously taken her ex-boyfriend hostage after a feud with his new girl. And Alaska hadn’t even been too hard done by to pass up on two pound nails.

                “I’m in conversation with the Immigration office and alongside your criminal record…” Alaska’s eyes rose to meet his as he seemed to pause a little too long and smile a little too wide. He took a second sheet and scanned his eyes down it, his lips twitching as he did so. “Assault, indecent exposure in public, a prior acquitted charge of theft and a rather nasty record of being banned from thirty exclusive clubs across the city….”

 If Alaska hadn’t been dead sober, she would have said the smug bastard was glowing.

                “They’re leaning towards deporting you back to the USA.”

 Her heart seized in her chest.

 Alaska had always joked about a worst-case scenario. She’d talked about it with her friends or colleagues or whatever it was that she was surrounded with; Adore had said that her worst case scenario was having to ditch her aesthetic, Ginger’s had been her cigarettes, Bob’s had been losing her comedy and Shea’s had been losing her strut. Alaska had always joked that the worst thing in the world was for her to be seen without a set of false nails—but really, it was being shipped back to the place she’d clawed her way out of.

 Oh, the irony.

                “Now, the pleading would be nice.” Detective Coady seemed to bask in this all. Alaska could feel the venom on her tongue and opened her eyes slowly, her dark eyelashes dragging on her porcelain cheekbones. She adjusted herself in her chair and scowled violently. Gone was her relaxation and games. Now there was a dark carnal defence prowling through her eyes.

                “Fuck you.”

                “That’s the spirit.” He smirked back. But then, his demeanour changed. Alaska was a little distracted (by her impending doom) to notice it, but his joy faded into serious deliberation. He cracked his knuckles and tilted his head. Coady seemed to be preparing himself for something. “Now—if you’d remember our last conversation, then you’ll also remember that it doesn’t have to be this way.”

Alaska, once again, froze.

 Of course she remembered their conversation. It’d been all she’d been thinking about late at night when all she had was the sound of heavy rain and the dark caress of the shadows to keep her company. When she blinked, she could see Coady a few months back, asking the impossible from her. As soon as he’d spoken, her skin crawled with dismay and disgust.

 Suddenly, she felt like throwing this table in his face.

                “No.” Alaska shook her head abruptly, her dishevelled hair tumbling around her ashen face. “No way, I’m not- I’m not doing anything for you-“

                “Really?” Coady raised his eyebrows, feigning  surprise at her answer. It wasn’t exactly a shock—in this room, four months ago, he’d proposed something so dastardly that Alaska had full out laughed in his face. She’d laughed so vicariously, throwing her head backwards and pointing a finger across the table at him (“You’re funny, I knew there was a reason that I liked you” Alaska had chuckled, but no one was laughing now). “Not even to avoid the people that want you dead?”

Alaska stared at him, long and hard.

                “You don’t get it, do you?” Coady didn’t quite look frustrated by his lack of knowledge. Alaska chuckled, but it was full of mirth and hatred. “The thing… what you want me to do? If it fell through and it got out that I- I helped you guys—“ Alaska broke off, shaking her head once again and laughing breathlessly, almost crazily. “It doesn’t matter whose waiting to slit my throat back in California, I’ll be good as dead. If Katya found out I-“

                “Zamolodchikova?” Coady inquired and Alaska knew that her loose lips had already partially dug her own grave. Inside, she swore blindly, but outside she stayed cool. Her intense eyes met his and she stayed impassive as Coady looked back down on her sheet. “The Russian, right? The warhead of whatever little gang it is that you’re running around with now?”

Little? Alaska wanted to scoff. At this point, they were singlehandedly running the underground network of criminals in London. But, of course, she didn’t say anything more.

                “We can offer protection.” The detective said through gritted teeth; Alaska’s lips twitched humorlessly. She could tell that it pained him a lot to say that, after all, he’d been after her for a long while now. “Instead of being prosecuted by the law, we can help you. You know what Ghandi said—an eye for an eye.”

                “Except, you want to infiltrate London’s strongest criminal network and in return, I get to sit in a Travelodge for fifteen months with two middle-aged and grouchy government agents.” Alaska didn’t quite see that as fair. “That’s an eye for you, but I’d be getting the glass shit that falls out and isn’t covered by your insurance when it inevitably shatters into a thousand pieces.”

                “You’re rather negative, you know that?”

                “It’s called being realistic.”

 Coady chuckled and Alaska actually took time to glance at the security picture he’d placed on the table. It was a black and white snapshot of a camera in the massive store, directly focused on two bottle blondes as they hunched over a display of small plastic boxes. Alaska’s face was turned towards the camera as she shoved them into various places—she could recount slamming them into her bra and her pockets and practically anywhere else she could fit them. The other blonde, who was dressed like a stripper and had large bangs that were just out of the frame, was easy for her to identify. Willam, the woman of the moment who was probably perfectly comfortable in her beauty sleep.

 After all, they only wanted Alaska because Alaska had more to lose.

In that moment, Alaska wondered whether she should just give in. Coady had been determined to crack her down into this little headspace for nearly a year and a half now. He’d sat her here and tried to push her into this mindset, get the advantage so he could use her for a wire and use her to bring down this tight group she was in the middle of.  It wasn’t like the group itself had done her any favours—Alaska’s had flew upwards to grasp the ring she wore around her neck on a chain. Her grip tightened.

                “We’re offering you an escape.” Coady said softly, noticing a certain vulnerability in the way Alaska halted completely. Her confidence had been stripped back. She was just a girl with messy hair and small, lost eyes. His eyes flickered to the chain around her neck. “We’ve heard what it’s like in that gang, and we know that it’s hard and harsh. No one should put up with that treatment; no one should have to answer to someone like Katya Zamolodchikova. She’s a dictator, she’s absolutely insane.”

 Alaska couldn’t quite argue about that. Katya was delusional and incredibly dangerous; her delusions were part of her charm, however, and it was undeniable that they’d all founded the basis that they’d die for each other and pull through everything for each other. And although Katya was definitely a… dominant figure,  she’d never been unfair.

 Until it came to Sharon, however.

                “We heard about your fiancé.” Alaska stiffened. She visibly drew away from Coady and he couldn’t help but inwardly smile. “No one should have to go through that—“

                “No.” Alaska answered quickly, almost robotically. “No one should.”

 Her hand fell away from her neck and she rubbed tiredly at her face. Suddenly, she just felt so exhausted. It was late at night, she was sure she’d be able to bring that up in court- something about human rights- if she tried. But, the truth was, she couldn’t afford a barrister and the government-hired ones were shit and would flake at the smallest deal. That is, if they even gave her an appeal against her deportation.

             ��  “So, if I help you, you’ll…. you’ll let me stay here?”

                 Coady almost cried with joy at her words. “Sure.”

                “Fine.” Her lips were dry and voice impassive as she signed her death wish. Yet, her head swum with memories and the face of a lover that was so far from her that her whole body ached at the thought of her kisses. “I’ll help you.”

A slow smile unfolded across the detectives face and he let himself bask in it all. A years work, and here was it’s penultimate moment. The girl sat in front of him was so frail and so vulnerable that his guilt and pride worked hand in hand. But he’d seen Alaska Thunderfuck’s file, he’d seen the things she’d done, the things that her boss, Katya had done. Picking apart this girl was going to get him one step closer to achieving the thing he’d set to do the moment he’d been contacted by the FBI: victory.

                “There’s someone you’ll want to meet, then.”

  When Coady stood up and left, he left Alaska in dead silence. She sat, stock-still, rebuilding herself piece by piece. She was suspended in shock at what she’d allowed herself to do; her brain had made up its own mind and thrown away her own loyalties and forced those words out of her lips. Alaska had fallen onto a sort of auto-pilot where things suddenly made sense to everything in her body except her.

 She inhaled sharply, disgusted with herself, yet, she couldn’t quite find herself wanting to retract her statement and be shipped back around the world.

 The door opened, bringing a light scent of perfume. Alaska lifted her head and saw that Coady was in the company of a tall woman, thicker than the drug addicted underground junkies Alaska was used to talk to, and tidier than them too. Her bright blue eyes struck Alaska first, her neat uniform and perfect posture came in second. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail and her lips parted into a warm, accommodating smile that rubbed Alaska the wrong way instantly. Coady, meanwhile, lingered in the background, pride and victory still echoing in his eyes.

 Alaska looked between them hopelessly, the reality of her actions finally fully hitting her.

                “Hi,” The woman greeted, full of pep, almost causing Alaska to flinch away from her. American, happy and seemingly delighted to meet her. Alaska didn’t come across that much in gang-riddled London. “I’m Agent Trixie Mattel from FBI and I’m the subject you’re going to be spending a lot of time with over the next eighteen months.”