#let me tell you right now if i were in her situation i would have started throwing rocks at people

[luckykiwiii101]

ONE THING ABOUT BEING THE QUEEN OF DELUSIONS? IT GIVES YOU A LONG WAY TO FALL

p.s. this post isn’t pretty, it wasn’t worth my time, or effort.

Hey Upper East Siders. Gossip girl here. Usually i’m here to help you fix your life, but @loaisacult, this one’s for you. And I can’t name any upper east siders more desperate than, well…you. It’s pitiful I know. But you can cry about it later, if you haven’t ran out of tears already, that is.

I don’t mean to start a fight, but there’s a weak link in every chain, and it just happens to be you.

I know you express your belief in the law of assumption being a cult. The funny thing is, when people don’t like something, they usually walk away, unless it bothers them that much. And the even funnier thing is, you complain about bloggers “preaching” the law of assumption, and getting others to follow. But what are you doing? Preaching your ideologies, in hopes that others will follow you too. Oh what’s that word again…hypocritical was it?

And oh sweetie, no one cares about your irrelevant opinions enough to affirm “@loaisacult doesn’t exist, @loaisacult doesn’t exist…” Talk about a weak argument. I hope law isn’t your major. But you know what is major? Your idiocy.

Calling people on this app suicidal? Pathetic. Although I can’t tell you that isn’t true. Because to some extent, it is. And i’d agree with you if you weren’t so ignorant. But I guess changing self in terms other than just loa isn’t your cup of tea. Bloggers are not meant to be personal therapists for people in the loacommunity. And yes there are and were previously some bloggers who would get suicidal asks from anons and just respond to them to persist. But why are you generalising EVERYONE in the community? Your point is immediately invalid. So because there were some immoral bloggers who would act that way automatically means that the whole entire practise of the law of assumption is a CULT? Hello? Do you hear yourself?

Let’s use your “logic” here. Say gossip girl makes a post telling her followers to worship satan. Therefore the whole entire loa community must ALL be satanists! Now how ridiculous is that…

Yes there are liars, everywhere. Oh i’m sorry, did that come as a surprise to you? You didn’t think the world was rainbows and sunshine did you? Well unless you assume it is. But at the same time, there are honest people too. Yet you like to pick and choose what to focus on. Look me in my virtual eyes and tell me that Lady gaga isn’t one of the most famous people on the planet. Oh wait..you can’t! News flash, she manifested that. And so did many of your other favourites. Yet you choose to focus on liars, because that’s what you want to believe. Of course a close minded, one sided argument is your way to go. Disregard everything else in the process why don’t you.

“It's ironic how some boast about manifesting luxury items like Lamborghinis, which could easily be rented, yet they fail to manifest meaningful change for their followers who are in abusive situations.” - l.o.s.e.r

“Want to prove to your followers who are spiraling about the American election rather than post persist hehehee how about you manifest for them….. change the election revise life’s an illusion while you’re crying about having your rights taken away lol but you can’t.” - l.o.s.e.r

Run upper east siders, we’ve got an idiot on our hands. Making a point on something completely false. If you really understood the law, you’d know that you can’t manipulate somebody else’s reality, unless they assume you can. But it’s not to my surprise that you didn’t know that, of all people. Last time I checked, it’s YOUR imagination, and nobody else’s. So WHY would YOUR 3D reflect THEIR imagination?

In short, you make points about “why don’t you manifest for your followers 🥺” Well, I don’t know if you knew this but…there’s this concept called free will. And just because someone chooses to not do something, doesn’t mean they can’t. Is common sense just not part of the package for you? It seems the point flies right over your head faster than you can catch it, and the only thing that doesn’t land, are your “points”.

But if you still don’t understand me, let’s use a little bit of your so -called logic here.

‘Loa is real manifesting is real shifting is real but most people in this community lie and are culty 99.999% of the stories here are lies the people doing that shit don’t even post abt it probably think they’re in some dream most of the success here are creative writing and living in the end.” - l.o.s.e.r

From YOUR logic, couldn’t I just ask you to manifest that the liars don’t exist and that you no longer view the law of assumption as a cult? So why haven’t you…? You’ll ask anyone questions but yourself. And if they think it was a dream…then how did they send their success stories to bloggers? Did I miss an update because last time I checked, you can’t do that in a dream.

And don’t get me started on how statistically IMPOSSIBLE that is. Do I even have to explain why? I promise you, thousands of people are NOT lying for the pure fun of it. Wouldn’t they rather shit on loa just like you rather than posting success stories hoping it’ll happen?I didn’t know talking out of the wrong hole was in fashion these days. But then again, not everyone has style. And if there’s one thing money can’t buy, it’s class. Was that a moth? Must’ve flewn right out of your wallet.

Now don’t get me wrong, i’m not bothered to read your whole blog and all the nonsense you cry about and debunk every little thing you say. Because trust me, common sense does the job for me.

Have fun continuing to “preach” your delusional idea of the law being a cult to yourself and your little followers. Like sheep. One after the other.

Don’t even think about trying to respond to me, as if anything you say makes sense.

P.S. I’ll delete this post later, I don’t like having drama on my blog. This is my first and last time addressing you. I just don’t want people in this community, including my followers to listen to idiots like you telling them that all the success stories they’ve read are fake, when that is so obviously not true. The fucking audacity. Disrespectfully, shut your mouth and don’t open it again.

- gossip girl

[devotedlyandrogynousyouth]

AkrhamKnight! Jason Todd

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Sensitive Topics: descriptions of a toxic relationship and mentions of physical abuse (none actually written)

AK! Jason Todd who you're not even sure what you have with. Every time you try to refer to him as your boyfriend or yourselves as together like you did before his death, he pulls away and gets defensive.

"There isn't an 'us,' sweetheart. I ain't letting shit from before that fucking clown got to me matter now."

But if you try to walk away from the situation or start talking to somebody else, he gets so incredibly jealous.

"Oh so you really need two guys' attention now? What a fucking whore..."

AK! Jason Todd who, if you couldn't tell by now, is so incredibly toxic in whatever situation you have. He cant stand to see you walk away but it kills you inside every time you come back to him and his baggage.

"Come one, sweetheart... It was just a mistake. We all make 'em, right? Don't you go leaving me over some petty shit like that."

AK! Jason Todd who absolutely loathes you going out at night. Even when he's there with you, it still puts him on edge to see you walking the cold, dark Gotham sidewalks when you could be safe in his apartment or the base instead.

AK! Jason Todd who just gets so mean with you for no reason. Well, not for little things like forgetting to pick up plastic wrap at the store or something. More like walking alone in Gotham without him knowing you were even gone. He hates the thought of something happening to his precious little thing.

AK! Jason Todd who would never physically harm you. Are insults thrown around like confetti? Absolutely! Is there a scream fight almost every week? You bet! But has he ever raised a finger against you? No. And he would never even think of it.

AK! Jason Todd who's absolutely pissed whenever somebody even looks at you for too long, nevermind making comments. You'd be surprised just how many of his soldiers he's gotten rid of just for telling him to "put his bitch in her place," or for telling you to "cover up, slut."

AK! Jason Todd who can't open up. He knows what he's doing is horrible. He knows that everything he does affects you in one way or another. But what about the horrible things other people have done? What about what the Joker did to him? What about Bruce letting the Joker roam free afterwards and replacing him with another goody two shoes? Jason wants to talk to you, he really does. But he just doesn't see how you or anybody, for that matter, coyld ever understand him or what he's been through.

AK! Jason Todd who found himself crying in the dark shadows of your shared apartment when Bruce first came along to stop his ridiculous plan to take over Gotham with Scarecrow's fear toxin. Jason loved Bruce. Bruce was his only family. But family means that nobody gets left behind and Bruce sure as hell broke that rule.

(This is actually kinda cannon: in Akrham Knight, one of the conversations you can overhear between a few of the gaurds mentions Jason crying after encountering Bruce for one of the first times)

AK! Jason Todd who truly does love you, in some way. He doesn't think he can be in love with you, but that doesnt makw him care about you any less. You're his person, and you've been there for him whether he likes it or not.

AK! Jason Todd who would absolutely lose it if anything were to ever happen to you. He never wants to see even a hair on your damn head hurt if he can help it. If one of his guards were to be responsible for an injury you sustained, they'd be out the door and probably six feet under in a heartbeat.

AK! Jason Todd who, no matter what your situation or relationship is like, refuses to let you see his chest. Yeah, his entire body is covered in scars, both from the Joker and other things he's experienced. But the 'Y' shaped scar on his chest is strictly off limits. If you were to ever accidentally brush your hand across it while laying with him or something, he wouldn't lash out, but he'd certainly guide your hand away by gently grasping your wrist.

AK! Jason Todd who never wants to see you involved with anything he does or his plans. He thinks that his activities are far too dangerous for you, even if you do happen to be somebody who's capeable of holding your own in combat or other high-stress situations.

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

Masterlist

[wifewithasecret314]

Roommate's Dad

During my junior year of college, one of my roommate's dads was visiting for Dad's weekend. Since my dad couldn't make it this year, it was just a normal weekend for me. I had plans to get drunk and head downtown with some of my sorority sisters. As I finished getting dolled up and getting ready, my roommate and her dad had just gotten back from dinner, and he was dropping her off before heading back downtown to his hotel. Hearing that I was also headed that way, he kindly offered to give me a ride instead of grabbing an Uber.

Overall her dad was a pretty attractive guy. He was in his early 50s with your classic Dad bod and short facial hair. We chatted casually about his daughter and college during the ride, but as we approached downtown, I started to wonder if I should have some fun with the situation. Odds were that I would end up with a guy from the club that evening so why not try something new? It also helped that I was already pretty drunk at this point from pregaming... Seeing his hotel ahead, I turned to him and asked, "Do you want to take me to your hotel room?" Now, this wasn't a fair question given what I was wearing, and without a word he pulled into the hotel parking lot.

We got out of his car and he led me to his room in silence. If anyone saw us walking together, they probably thought I was a prostitute; some fit college girl young enough to be this man's daughter dressed in high heels and a short fuck-me skirt.

Upon entering his room, I walked straight to the bed. I pulled up my short skirt, bent over the bed, and looked back at him with my best fuck-me eyes. He called me a naughty girl and then walked over to the bed, grabbed my ass and pushed me down onto my stomach before he started devouring my pussy from behind. His facial hair felt so good rubbing against my skin as his tongue flickered around my clit. I knew immediately that I had made the right decision.

Once he made me cum all over his face, we both paused to take off the rest of our clothes. He stood there at the edge of the bed with his hard cock just inches in front of my face while I kneeled on all fours looking up at him. I asked him what his wife would think of him fucking his daughter's friend. Taking his big daddy cock in his hand, he slapped it against my face before shoving it in my little mouth without uttering a response. He proceeded to grab my hair and fuck my little mouth.

Once he was satisfied, he pulled my mouth off his cock and laid down on the bed. I proceeded to suck his cock some more before climbing on top of him. He grabbed my tight college ass in his hands and bounced me on his cock. I don't know what it is about older men, but they always make you cum so hard. I proceeded to ask him how my tight body compared to his wife's while he fucked me from below. He remained nearly silent the whole time which only made me tease him more and more.

After riding him for a while, he pushed me off his cock and leaned me against the head board. He proceeded to grab me by the hips and pound my little ass from behind. At this point I had cum more times than I could count. Turning back to look at him, I asked him if he liked fucking his daughter's best friend. Finally getting through to him, he grabbed me by the neck and pushed my head down into the pillows. His whole body weight slapping against my ass while I moaned like a whore. I'm sure all of the neighbors could have heard my screams.

Thoroughly exhausted from the sheer number of orgasms, I could tell that he was getting close. Looking back at him with my big blue eyes, I told him, "Cum on my face, daddy," He pulled out and let out a moan as he came all over my pretty little face.

After cleaning myself up in the bathroom, I got dressed and walked over to the club where my sorority sisters were sure to be waiting. On my way out the door, I turned back to him and said, "Thanks Mr. XXX! Can't wait until the next time you visit."

That was the only time anything happened between us unfortunately... The next time that I got to see him was at graduation when both he and his wife visited. I made sure to remind him how great it was to meet him during Dad's weekend right in front of her. Fortunately, neither his wife or daughter ever found out and that night

[im-not-samantha-im-samanta]

Jinx and Isha x Isha's identical twin reader [fluff]

"Team for life"

@ayedomino0 here you go, love

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Trigger Warning: I don't think there's any, just pure fluff which is unusual for me, but we all need it after act 2. Also I'm not used to writing for three characters at once, so this probably isn't any sort of masterpiece. I also think I may have subconsciously written reader as female, so sorry male and enby readers. This is also pretty fast paced. Also, I don't know what it's like to have a twin, but I hope I didn't write Isha and Reader as the typical twin stereotype shown in movies.

____________________________________________

"Alright, alright, Y/N, guess what time it is!" Jinx's voice rang through the room, making your heart pause.

No, hold on, it couldn't be that time already - you were so sure there were still countless minutes, hours separating you from this exact moment!

But as your wide eyed gaze darted towards the clock on the wall the reality was clear as day - it really was that time already.

"That's right, pipsqueak - medicine time!" Jinx called loud as she came into view, wearing a wide, rascally grin.

Her stance was dramatic and attention grabbing, a bottle of cough drops in one hand, a spoon in the other.

Then, as she went to get the substance onto the spoon, Jinx chirped up again: "Now!" but she ended up cutting herself off right away.

Her pink tinted eyes intensely focused on the drops dripping onto the spoon, carefully watching and counting the amount of drops you would be receiving.

When the right portion was on the spoon, Jinx visibly relaxed and her scatterbrained grin softened up.

"Now," she repeated before dramatically holding up the spoon as if it were some sort of trophy, "say hello to the cough drops express!".

Jinx's gaze then moved towards you, ready to treat your sore throat: "I know how much you hate these, so let's get it over with".

But the moment her eyes laid on you, Jinx halted in her movements and the playful grin fell off her face.

Jinx was so sure she was seeing double because instead of having two individually dressed twins, she suddenly had two identically dressed twins.

Both of them looking at her with the exact same puppy-eyed expression on their faces.

"As sly as a fox, eh?" Jinx commented and broke into a grin as she shook her head in disbelief at the situation.

Then she put her hand holding the cough drop bottle on her hip, smirking.

"okay, which one of you came up with this?" She asked and, still holding the spoon with your medicine, she motioned to you and Isha.

Neither of you spoke of course, nor did you give any sort of other reaction, both you and Isha just looked at Jinx with your two sets of golden, big eyes.

Jinx wasn't bothered by the lack of reaction though, nor was she really bothered by the situation - of anything, she honestly found it hilarious.

"Hmm," she hummed, pressing her manicured finger to her lips while still handling the cough drops bottle, pretending to be deep in thought.

"I bet it was..." Jinx paused, letting the tension build up as her pink eyes found yours and locked with them.

"Y/N," she grinned, the eye contact with you intense and making your heart stop for the second time today.

The way Jinx was looking at you sent shivers down your spine, and panic immediately settled in your chest.

You wondered whether or not could Jinx tell you apart despite all the effort you put into looking identical with Isha.

Your stance grew more uneasy and tense right away, not helping your cause at all - however, Isha jumped in for the rescue without a moment of hesitation.

In an blink of an eye, she quickly copied and matched your tense body language and anxious facial expressions.

The mirroring on Isha's part was flawless, although it was slightly harder for her to act this way and seem genuine - after all, between you and her, it was you that was the more naturally timid twin.

However, Isha was still quite naturally skilled in this sort of thing - plus this wasn't the first time you and Isha were pulling this sort of stunt on people.

So, executing the act on this part wasn't all too impossible for you and Isha - or more like Isha since she was doing most of the work in this particular situation.

But still, with the way Jinx was looking at you, you had a feeling she knew exactly, perfectly well, who was who.

And yet, whether or not was that nagging feeling correct was left as an unsolved mystery because Jinx either genuinely didn't know, or she's decided to humour you and the little stunt you were trying to pull.

"Hmm," Jinx hummed as she straightened up, her intense gaze leaving yours and fixing on Isha instead, looking her over as if trying to do her best to figure out which twin she was.

Unlike you, Isha's stance didn't falter in response to being studied like a small bug under a microscope - she was still perfectly mirroring how you were handling the situation.

Although you were aware that Isha still had this obvious bark to her, making her act of unease less authentic than yours.

But you couldn't really blame her because this kind of behaviour simply wasn't true to her personality.

You just nervously hoped that this simple fact was this much obvious to just you and your sister, and not Jinx.

"Well, I have to give it to ya," Jinx commented after giving you and Isha one last once over, "you two really are sneaky,".

In response, you and Isha exchanged a look, both of you smiling in your own unique way, pride swelling in your chests at your schemes being acknowledged and even appraised.

In that moment, you and Isha felt like you have successfully outsmarted Jinx and won this little game that you have found yourselves playing with the older girl.

Jinx smirked then, looking at the two of you with amusement, and also some hint of pride at how much work you two put into making your silly plan come to life.

Really, the two of you truly did everything possible to look like flawless copies of one another, it was hard to tell you two were two different beings - Jinx was quite impressed.

Though Jinx had a certain advantage over the two of you, an advantage she's not told you about because she simply didn't have the heart to - or maybe she just liked having an advantage.

After all, the two of you could be quite the handful at times - so, any sort of advantage over you was valuable and useful.

Anyways, that advantage was that Jinx was detail oriented, and over the time she's spent with you and Isha, she's noticed things that helped her tell you apart.

For example - and it wasn't too noticable, but your smiles tended to be soft and timid, while Isha's smiles were bolder and more pronounced, with her front teeth usually slightly peeking out from under her lip.

Jinx loved the both of your individual smiles - she adored all that made them differ, but also all that made them similar if not the same at first glance.

Jinx's smirk then softened into something warmer, something fonder, as she added: "and... you two really do stick together, like true sisters...".

Her voice was softer than usual, and so was the look on her face - the way she looked at you two was almost wistful, like she wished she and Vi could have what you two shared so seemingly effortlessly.

However, just as quick as that gentle expression of Jinx's came, it was gone just as quick, replaced by that playful, mischievous look Jinx was so known for.

"Alright, I have an idea for a game," Jinx gave a wicked grin and right at that moment, you and Isha became alert once more, losing the smiles on your faces.

You were somewhat more tense than Isha, of course, since, you were the one supposed to take those disgusting cough drops, not Isha - she was just playing along with your plan.

"it's called: Let's wait to see which one of you starts coughing and reveals which one of you is Y/N. Sounds fun, no?" Jinx tilted her head, her braids swinging some.

At that, you gave one horrified look to Isha, which Jinx didn't miss, but also didn't comment on - she felt like prolonging the small game that you had going on.

She was having lots of fun with this, and she wanted to know how far the two of you would be willing to take this - or more like, how far would be Isha willing to play along to help you get out of having to take your medicine.

Then, as if on cue, you felt that irritating, scratchy sensation building up in your throat, and your brows furrowed as you tried to hold back the incoming coughing fit.

And, sending Isha one last desperate, pleading look, you suddenly broke into a fit of harsh, pained coughs.

Much to your joy, Isha got you covered - once again, she didn't hesitate and matched your actions, beginning to fake as equally bad coughing fit.

And Jinx? She just watched your two's antics with amusement - you two really were something for sure.

But, Jinx also secretly felt envious because Isha really had your back no matter what the situation was.

And Jinx's thoughts momentarily drifted back to Violet, quietly wondering if it really was that hard to stick up for a sister that you hold dear.

But Jinx pushed those thoughts aside, forcing herself to focus on the present and what she currently had - not the past and what she didn't and couldn't have.

"Well damn," Jinx grinned playfully when your and Isha's coughing came to a halt so that both of you could catch your breath, "whatever can I do with you two?".

"Seems like you two won this round, I can't give Y/N her medicine without the risk of giving it to Isha," Jinx announced casually, her hand that was holding the cough drops bottle returning to rest on her hip.

And exhaling dramatically, she, just to egg you on a little more, added in: "guess I'll have to throw in the towel after all."

At that proclamation, your teary eyed gaze - the result of your bad coughing fit - lit up, filling up with hope and sheer excitement.

You couldn't believe it - Jinx was actually giving up and you wouldn't have to take that gross liquid!

A joyous grin appeared on your face, and you and Isha shared a victorious fist bump - however, your excitement and victory were all short lived.

Because Jinx's next words were: "That... Or, I could give the cough drops to the both of you, just to make sure I got the right twin,".

Both your and Isha's faces fell then, and finally, Isha didn't have to pretend to be horrified anymore because she genuinely became uneasy at the suggestion.

Isha herself knew how disgusting was the taste of those cough drops, and she would much rather eat some of those questionable foods the weird vendors in Zaun sold than take that medicine.

"Yeah, that's not such a bad idea," Jinx nodded to herself, appraising her own train of thought with a wide, satisfied grin.

"I mean, think about it - for Y/N it's to treat her sore throat, and for Isha it'd be precautionary, a just-in-case!" she thought out loud, swinging the spoon with cough drops around.

And, facing the two of you once more, Jinx smirked and held out the spoon as she asked: "What do ya think, Isha? Want some of these yummy cough drops?".

In response to that, all the loyalty Isha held for you was gone, and she frantically shook her head in disagreement with a light, panicked squeal, pointing at you and ratting you out.

Yep, she threw you under the bus, making you feel utter betrayal which you - metaphorically - voiced by gasping and glaring daggers into your sister.

But Isha only sent you an apologetic smile and made a circling motion with her fist over her heart to tell you a casual sorry.

She didn't look too sorry though because her face showed clear signs of relief upon being spared from having to consume those dreaded cough drops.

At Isha's half-hearted apology, you reacted by sending her another glare, one that didn't need any words to get across just what you were thinking: traitor.

Meanwhile Jinx, who was watching the whole exchange chuckled and kneeled down to you, her expression amused yet gentle as she cooed: "Don't get all too mad at her, kid,".

"you would've ended up taking the drops in any case, I knew who was who all along." she smiled gently, making you pause and look at her with wide, surprised eyes.

"Yeah, I knew the whole time which one was Isha, and which one was you," Jinx confirmed what you were silently thinking in your head "I was just playing you.".

To that delivered claim, you crossed your arms and frowned, acting all upset and offended that Jinx would make such a fool of you like that.

But Jinx only gave a hearty laugh: "Hey, it was you who was trying to play me first - you started it! Serves you right, you little sneaky rat!".

"So, don't get all mad now that your little stunt came back to bite you in the ass," she sassed you in a light-hearted tone, smiling fondly at you and making you fume more.

But sensing your attitude, Jinx eased up on her mean spirited yet no harm meaning taunts: "But, tell you what, you take your cough drops now, and...".

She trailed off, seeming to be thinking of what to offer you so that you'd be willing to call truce between the two of you.

"and I'll let you eat cookies before dinner, deal?" Jinx offered, making your frown immediately disappear and get replaced by a content smile and an eager nod.

And Jinx grinned proudly in response: "Alright, ma'am, seems like we have a deal," and holding the spoon to your lips, she added: "hurry up then, or the cookies might grow legs and run off.".

You giggled at those words, and finally more willing to take your medicine, you opened up your mouth for Jinx to give you those cough drops.

But before Jinx could even think of pressing the spoon against your lips, Isha stomped against the ground to bring your and Jinx's attention to herself.

When both of you directed your gazes towards Isha, she was standing there with crossed arms and an expectant look.

"Seems like someone wants cookies before dinner too," Jinx noted, her expression showing she was clearly entertained by Isha's bold attitude and cheeky antics.

With a grin, Jinx slowly looked up, rolling her eyes to pretend to think as she mused: "But I dunno... do you even deserve cookies after ratting out your sis?".

Then her gaze drifted towards you once more, and Jinx questioned: What do you think, Y/N, should Isha get some cookies after backstabbing you?".

You then looked at Isha, and the girl gave you the biggest puppy dog eyed expression she could muster up, her hands clasped together in a begging manner.

To that, you pursed your lips and pressed a finger against them, pretending to be considering whether or not you thought your sister should get a sweet treat after what she's done.

But, of course, you could never stay mad at her for too long, and you caved in, looking at her with a smile before turning to Jinx and nodding in agreement to her question.

And Jinx smiled softly at you, feeling some sort of warmth in her chest that you were willing to forgive your sister and allow her to share simple joys with you.

"Well, alright then!" Jinx called right after, her energy amped up again, "seems like the council has decided to take pity on you and grant you mercy, Isha!".

Jinx sent a grin Isha's way, making the girl perk up and smile eagerly at the prospect of being allowed to join you and have a cookie or two before dinner.

You joined in with a soft smile of your own, making eye contact with your sister and wordlessly letting her know that you two were still a team for life.

[biapascal]

I have a request pretty pls 🙏 could you maybe write a lil sumn about the reader/oc being married to acacius in a diplomatic marriage to prevent war and show that her country surrenders and they sent her as like a prisoner of war/hostage princess situation. the reader/oc loves Marcus but doesn't think he'd choose to love her over roman beauties and Marcus doesn't want to force her into anything bc of the politics. With like whole lots of yearning, jealousy, angst and oh, more yearning, and the delicious most happiest of endings pls pls pls

Hi honey! 🫶🏻✨ I hope this is enough 🪶

Duties

Tw: forced marriage, loss of virginity mentioned.

First, they killed your soldiers while destroying your city. You saw the streets you walked in your childhood reduced to ruins. The houses were graveyards. They have taken everything and everyone away from you, even from your family. When they brought you to Rome, you were apparently too pretty to be killed. You could have been a slave, but the emperors had other plans for you. You became the general's wife. As your husband, your life was his property as well as your body. In Rome, before the wedding, the girl is supposed to leave everything from her childhood home behind. You couldn't do that because you had nothing left. They took care of you on your wedding day. You had to be a pretty thing for your future husband, nothing more than a doll, like one of those you used to play with as a child. During the ceremony, Acacius was stoic. You were forced to smile and had the impression that he knew this, but couldn't tell what he thought about it. It was almost as if marriage to a beautiful woman was a duty and not a gift from the gods. You were then taken to the house of Marcus for the last rites that would lead to the loss of your dignity. Paradoxically, your husband should have cleansed you with spring water. Meanwhile, the thalamus was prepared. Crocus flowers, considered by the Romans to be a powerful aphrodisiac, were scattered on it. After these rites, you were undressed by an older maid, who also removed ornaments and jewelry that could be dangerous to your husband. you were naked, shivering, your eyes colder than your body. Your sight was blurry and you tried not to look at him. "Can we blow out the candles?" you asked the maid. She shook her head. "You have to see him, now I'll leave you two alone." You finally looked at Marcus and you didn't care that he was a trained general, you would never let that man deflower you. You would rather be killed than to have to carry his child. "Just kill me already, because you are not taking me tonight" you spat. He didn't react. You reached for something to cover your shaking body and jumped when you felt his hand on your arm. "I'm not going to take your virginity tonight." Your expression hardened. "Be a good wife, do as I say, go where I suggest, but know that I won't rape you.” He seemed so serious, you almost couldn't believe it. Then he also covered himself. "Now lie down” he ordered. You slowly did as he said. "Tomorrow they will ask you what happened tonight. Lie, tell them it was painful" you nodded, holding your breath. You fell asleep crying, but you were glad he didn't touch you. The next day, as expected, everyone asked about the first night of marriage. Lying wasn't hard, the other women believed you right away. Life in Rome was depressing. You missed your hometown, the way your people used to act, the typical food. You missed your family, the laughter of the children, your own laughter. Every night Marcus was aware of it and heard you sobbing. He knew it was his fault. The emperors wanted a Roman world, without borders. He was forced to kill and take things from people, but he was not used to it. With you he was gentle, you found yourself searching for him more than once, and you hated yourself for it. "Can I talk to you?" You were in the garden, praying to your ancestors. You nodded and he sat down. "The Romans are greedy. We don't want freedom, we want power."

"We?" you caught him off guard. "No, actually I don't care about power, but I don't expect you to believe me" you gave him a lame smile. "I have to do what the emperors want, and what they wanted back then was your city.” He apologized and you couldn't forgive him. But you felt he was being honest.

February came, the month of rebirth, the Romans had to pay homage to the god Lupercus, and you were still a virgin. the passage to adulthood and the fertility of women was celebrated. Rome was chaotic and several women and men approached you. It was clear that you wanted Marcus to be with you. You couldn't find him and were pulled into the middle of the crowd. He had always given you the impression of being a man true to his own integrity. But you did not know if he was in a brothel on this occasion. "The General's wife!" Two men grabbed your hand and you tried to free yourself. "Come on" they dragged you away from the crowd, and you begged them to let you go. "You should be used to this" one of them said. They were beginning to get irritated with your stubbornness. They were in a hurry to have a look at you and consume you. “Let me enjoy my wife” Marcus arrived. “Won’t you share her with us?” He kissed your cheek and shook his head. "No, I won't share my treasure." You felt strange, you really enjoyed that touch. After that night, you began to soften and you began to know your husband more and more. He was tired, he didn't care about expanding the empire, he just wanted to rest. He was kind to almost everyone, except the emperors. He was wise. He taught you about his ancestors, and you gained the courage to tell him about yours. The nights became your favorite time, you spent hours talking and learning from each other. This was your yearning for intimacy. One night you felt like there were other things you wanted to know, other ways to know him. "I have to be honest with you, Marcus" he nodded. "I'm glad you're my husband. You told me to follow your instructions, but what you have done these months is let me grieve, you have even protected me. Am I still a gift of war or something else?" He approached, his face dangerously close to yours. You felt your cheeks burn crimson. "No” he looked at your lips. "If I may, I'd like to kiss you." You nodded and then felt it. The fear was gone, the mourning was done.

[majoryeager104]

i can’t stop sending you requests buttttt what’s your opinion on this: what about teen touya having a so and enji knowing it (sadly) and he would force touya to stop seeing them because they’re a distraction for becoming the hero he wants to be. we all know that’s touya’s dream but on the other hand we’re talking about the only person who actually understands himmmm. thk uuu

omggggg this is awesome thnx for the requests tho cos I love doing em 🫶

Warnings: angst, good ending tho bc I can’t handle traumatizing Touya any more than he already is lmao

“I think the two of you should part ways for the sake of your career”

Those simple words from his father caused him so much inner turmoil as he heard them. Touya had been with you for months, and he was just saying this now!? He took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. “Excuse me?” He said, his voice sharp with conviction, breath shaky with emotion. Enji sighed, sitting back in his chair. “You need to focus on your goals, otherwise you’ll end up failing-“

“no actually I mean excuse you.” Touya snapped, standing up from his seat. “Failing? Don’t make me laugh, I’m not gonna fail just because I’m happy for the first time in my life” Touya said rather roughly, clenching his fists as he looked down at the shallow man he had to call a father. Enji furrowed his brow, irritated now as he attempted to resolve the situation. But Touya refused to let it slide, not when his future- the one he wanted to share with you- was at stake.

“Touya-“ “don’t interrupt me! Even if you’re right and I do fail, at least I won’t fail like you have! At least, unlike you, I don’t throw away the people I care about for my own selfish goals!” He shouted, his fists so firmly clenched that he felt nothing but anger and searing pain, like if he got any more upset he might make himself bleed. He didn’t mind though, his rage blinding his concern for his own wellbeing as he glared down at Enji “Touya I’m telling you as your father that it would be for the best.” “My father? You finally want to be my father!?” He raised his hands in the air as if Enji had just admitted defeat. “And you think this gives you the right to control my life any more than you already have!?”

His palms were definitely bleeding now, his fingernails cutting through the burn-scarred skin. He took another shaky breath, trying to reel in the shuddering anger. Suddenly Enji slammed his own fists against the desk in front of him. “That’s enough! I’m not asking. Your behavior is unacceptable. I’ve already contacted her parents, and we agreed it would be best for both of you. It’s over.” Enji snapped back, his words nearly stopping Touyas thudding heart.

It’s over.

Two words that Enji shouldn’t have any right to utter, but he did. Suddenly, Touyas violent resolve crumbled beneath him, and he fell back into the turmoil that he now identified as grief. “You…you what?” He said, his voice shaking under the weight of his own shouted words, as well as the emotions hanging over him. He took one step back, than another. The world seemed hazy. They decided this, not him, not you, so how is it final?

“Y/n’s parents already spoke with her. And unlike you, she didn’t argue.” Enji clenched his jaw, hoping to resolve this, whether it hurt Touya or not. He didn’t care if it was a lie- that you’d reacted the same way Touya did- all he cared about was that Touya focused on his work. Because his masterpiece Shoto wasn’t ready yet, so he needed his broken mosaic of a son to pull through and succeed where he failed- a broken man living vicariously through the lives of his sons. now at this statement, Touyas rapid heartbeat nearly stopped. You…didn’t fight? Didn’t even talk back? No…no that can’t be right. He stared at his father for a moment, before spinning on his heels and walking out, slamming the door rather violently. So violently in fact, that the door handle melted slightly under his currently barely controlled quirk. He didn’t care though, storming into to his room and locking it, scrambling for his phone. he had to contact you. He had to. He needed to know why you’d let him go like this. Why you- someone who understood and accepted him unlike anyone else- had given up on him. The mere thought made him want to cry. He pulled his phone from his schoolbag frantically, the screen lighting up. To reveal several messages and missed calls

from you. he sighed in a vague sense of relief, sitting down as he opened your messages where you relayed to him what your parents had requested- more specifically, that you’d rejected the idea, and left. So Enji lied. Of course. but his anxiety still remained, eating away at him as he stared at your contact on his phone. that is, until he got another text from you

”hey, open ur window”

And heard a knock at his window

and he turned to see your familiar face smiling through the glass, waving sheepishly in the rain.

[the-gay-trashmouth]

I think something that's bothers me about how folks talk about mouthwashing is how they talk about Swansea. It's either "Swansea would have killed Jimmy immediately if Anya had told him" or "he knew and he did nothing just like curly." because, to me at least it leaves out a lot of nuance to his character and situation. Curly and Swansea are really good foils to each other, one who's got a reputation for being the kind and helpful captain but in the end does nothing to truly protect the crew from Jimmy, and one who's gruff, harsh, and cruel but genuinely tries to help in the background, the reliable mechanic.

(read more for a long Mouthwashing character ramble tw for unwanted pregnancy and SA)

Because Curly is the one with the power. He doesn't take what Jimmy did seriously enough. And you can say that he might not have known fully what Jimmy did, but I think the "I told you" pregnancy conversation and his reaction to Jimmy right before the crash ("come on we'll get through this together. We'll figure it out, you've had hard times before-") are indicators that he knew, but he still chose to stick by his friend and treat it like a "mistake" rather than what it really was.

Now that's my own personal speculation of course, there's no outright scene of her telling him "your best friend assaulted me", but I think there's enough evidence in game through Anya and Curlys interactions to say that he knew, and he knew before Anaya knew she was pregnant. He had a fully functioning ship and four fully functional cryo-pods. He could have at least given Anya more security, kept her far away from him, and at most forced him into the cryopod until they got back to earth. Jimmy STILL had full, uncontrolled access to the cockpit AFTER his freakout with curly. AFTER Anya tells curly she doesn't feel safe with him. AFTER Curly finds out he raped Anya. He's so focused on seeing the good in his friend that he does NOTHING to protect Anya, doesn't strip away not one of Jimmy powers as copilot and consequently endangers her and the rest of the crew.

Curly was the captain, he had the power to relegate Jimmy to the fucking storage closet if he really wanted, at least put him in the cryopod until they got back to earth. In fact, he was the only person above Jimmy in terms of rank on the ship, but he chose to do nothing. He chose to let Jimmy continue as acting co-pilot, chose to comfort him rather than actually confront him. Slides off his weird sexual comments as jokes "So what's this about horses?"

Now let's compare that to Swansea, the mechanic.

We don't have any evidence that Swansea knew about what Jimmy did until after the crash ("it's been her telling me things") where they were trapped with no captain, barely any rations, and a single cryopod that he kept hidden away in the one room he had the key too (and the only room that could lead into medbay). He didn't use it for himself, he makes it clear he didn't intend on getting off this hunk of metal in his last few conversations with Jimmy.

Swansea as the ship's mechanic, was used to fixing things in the background. He didn't need to get along with anyone to keep the ship running, he didn't need people to like him to keep them safe. We see that with Daisuke. He's harsh on him, for sure, but he leaves constant notes to help him learn. Genuinely tries to keep him out of harm's way when it comes to more dangerous jobs. We know Anya was scared of Jimmy getting a weapon, she hid the gun case in the medical bay even knowing she would never get it open. We can see Swansea and Anya off on their own towards the first days after the crash, and Swansea still has a tight grip of the axe weeks and months later.

I personally think that was him trying to keep Jimmy from having access to a weapon. The only time Jimmy gets the axe while Swansea is alive is when Anya Specifically asks him to use it to get medical supplies. I don't think that's a coincidence.

Swansea, like any good mechanic, was quietly trying to keep things running out of Jimmy's sight. It's not until everyone is dead or dying that he snaps, that he finally takes direct action. But it was too little too late.

Both Curly and Swansea thought they were doing the right thing, helping in their own way. Curly genuinely wanted to see the good in Jimmy, wanted it to just be some challenge they could overcome, but in doing so he failed to see the monster right in front of him. He had all the power (in context of the crew, the company is a whole other can of worms I have so many other thoughts on), but he was too afraid to use it. Hell, he was DISCOURAGED to use it if the memo about HR complaints are anything to go by. Swansea, on the other hand, never trusted Jimmy, never even really liked him, but he didn't want to make anything worse either. He didn't know what would actually set Jimmy off, or what he was capable of, and aside from just straight up killing him what else could he do that wouldn't just push Jimmy further off the edge? Like with the foam. "One wrong move and you'll rip this ship a new asshole", he worked carefully, hiding the last pod from Jimmy, keeping the only other weapon on himself, guarding the only other entrance into Medbay, but Jimmy was escalating quickly. He underestimated how far Jimmy was willing to go, just like Curly had, and in the end suffered the consequences.

The only character who actually understood how dangerous and unstable Jimmy was is Anya. She knew the moment she found out she was pregnant he would hurt her ("you won't let me protect myself"). He wouldn't be able to take it, he would do something drastic. She knew he was escalating the longer they were stranded. Anya is the only crew member who truly understood how dangerous Jimmy was and took direct action.

And interesting thing to me is that she doesn't just kill herself. She locks herself in the medbay. She could have waited for Jimmy to sleep, or locked herself in the cockpit, but she locked herself in the medbay with Curly. She knows that with her gone there would be no one left to take care of him, she knew Jimmy would continue to escalate his abuse, and with her gone all of his anger and fear and guilt would turn on Curly.

And wouldn't you know it? She was right. Without Anya to stop him, he takes curly out of the bed, forces him upright into the cryopod, and forces a man with no skin, no arms, no legs, and infected tissues to be frozen for 20 years while the rest of his crew Rot. And that's only what we know to be reality- if any of his delusions had some basis in reality he could have done so so much more. Anya is the Only one to take reasonable, direct action to keep herself, and then Curly, safe.

But she didn't have enough power over Jimmy to truly protect herself. She didn't have the code to the gun case, she didn't have a weapon or a rank to fall back on. She was outnumbered by men who she knew from experience either wouldn't or couldn't keep her safe, and she was heavily pregnant with a baby she didn't want and most likely couldn't even get enough nutrients to sustain either her or the fetus. She was physically weakened and trapped in a stranded ship with her abuser with no way home and a medical miracle (curse) in Curly.

This game is a really good reflection of reality, in my opinion as an abuse survivor. Some people will see them as "one of the boys" and constantly excuse or downplay their actions (Curly), some people will do small things in the background, recognize the abuse and disprove, but don't want to get in the way or make things worse (Swansea), and some people are just straight up oblivious/naive (Daisuke). But in the end, it's the system that allows abuse and incentives coverups to keep peace or save face that really allows abuse to fester and escalate.

Which is why I personally have a problem with the idea that Anya should have just Told A Different Man because it ignores the very real chain of power and her own agency in her story, AS WELL AS the idea that Swansea and Diasuke knew but didn't care because that's just not reflective of real life. Not every man is some rapist apologist who doesn't care what abusers do until it happens to them, some people just don't know what to do, or don't have any good options that wouldn't result in further abuse. Hell some people just don't even fucking notice! Not everyone has had exposure to the signs or knows what to look for.

It's easy when looking at fictional depictions of abuse to say "well if I was there I would have just punched him/killed him/called the police" but real life, in that moment, its never going to be clear cut. You can call out abuse, but that might just lead to that abuser taking it out on their abuse victim later. They could even start to target you for daring to speak out, or try to hurt you and cut you off from the person being abused. You can know all the right steps and the right programs, but in the moment, when faced with a real situation where someone could get hurt or even killed? You stumble. You think things over, you don't try and make any direct moves that would set their abusers off. Sometimes that's a good instinct, and sometimes that just lets abuse escalate. It's never a good situation, and it's never actually anyone's fault but the abusers. And this way of thinking also conveniently leaves out the survivor of this abuse, and portrays them as someone who needs to be saved, rather than someone who needs support and resources to save themselves. It also very conveniently lets the company that Put Anya in this situation in the first place get off Scott free.

The solution isn't "oh one of the men on board should have personally killed Jimbo and saved Anya all by himself" its "Anya deserved the support of her crewmates instead of being forced into close proximity with her rapist and also maybe Jimmy shouldn't have access to the fucking controls or medbay or any weapons- AND ALSO the crew shouldn't have financial incentives not to report things to HR"

[casino-lights]

so. the thing about Illario and Lucanis.

I don't have the screenshots but somewhere in Lucanis' mind, you hear Illario's voice saying "If I was in charge, you wouldn't have to do this anymore." as far as I can tell, all the other lines in his memories are from the game, but this one is from The Wigmaker Job. the story that took place over a year (probably more) prior to the events of the game. it's referring to a scene where Lucanis comes back from their contract, injured, and Illario, worried about his cousin, says that Lucanis wouldn't have to do Caterina's bidding anymore if Illario was First Talon. so now we know Lucanis still thinks about that conversation, even though it happened so long ago.

two other things about The Wigmaker Job: 1) Illario is a lot different in it and in some ways he seems more competent than the Illario we get in veilguard; and 2) we see Zara Renata at the end, and she already has Lucanis in her sights. depending on how much time passed between that contract and Lucanis' kidnapping, she could've been setting this up for months to years.

in the concept art/storyboard frames that were recently released, Zara is hardcore giving siren in the first image and it almost looks like she's straight up controlling Illario via blood magic in the second (imo)

now imagine if Zara was looking into Lucanis, started with the people closest to him, found Illario, and said all the right things. imagine she said he should be First Talon, Caterina never loved him, Lucanis doesn't believe in him and is secretly just tolerating him, he can save Antiva from the Antaam (or whoever else), he can lead the Crows to their long-awaited unification and make them even stronger, he's the smartest prettiest most super special boy in the whole wide world, etc. (if you give this man an ounce of praise and he actually believes it, he will crumble, I know it.)

now imagine Zara, having successfully sunk her claws into Illario - Lucanis Dellamorte's cousin, the only person closer to the Demon of Vyrantium than the First Talon herself - manages to convince him to let her kill Lucanis. he doesn't have to do it himself so there's less guilt. there's no way Caterina would make him First Talon if Lucanis was alive. and then Illario would be in a position to protect his beloved Antiva because if there's one thing the Antivan Crows are, it's patriots. I think Zara played Illario like a fucking fiddle and the game was just really bad at showing us that. I think when her spirit says "he fooled us both," she means he fooled her by being less of a coward than she thought and straight up killing her.

and maybe this is the Illario apologist in me, but I also think he realized the whole thing was a doomed plan after he was defeated. I mean, he shows up to the final battle to help, at risk of his own life. maybe he's trying to atone, maybe not, but still - he is there, and he sounds more like the Illario we see in The Wigmaker Job than whatever we got through the rest of the game. with his quippy little "was that suitably self-important?" line, he's closer to himself than he was this whole time, and that makes me wonder if maybe he wasn't fully Illario. maybe that was grief and guilt and a shaky sense of self and Zara's manipulation and the feeling of losing his grip on the power he never quite had to begin with, all bundled up into a new, bitter, resentful man. I think he was used like a pawn in Zara's chess game, and that doesn't take away from his agency in this situation or lessen the blow of his betrayal, but it does make it easier for me to swallow the fact that the Obvious Traitor Illario I was immediately skeptical of in-game is not the Illario I immediately loved after one scene in Tevinter Nights where he shaves a single hair because it was uneven with the rest of his five o clock shadow.

I think ultimately, Illario realized Lucanis would forgive him anyway. I think it's because he realized he would forgive Lucanis too.

[quinnverse]

"Have you lost function of your eyelids, too? Just close them, you imbecile!" She spat, resisting the urge to toss one of the pillows on her bed at him. For such a seemingly smart man, he had a knack for being dense, and primarily around her. If she wasn't in such a compromising position, she might've relished in the fact that she unnerved him so much. Throwing a man off-kilter was a win to some degree, but not when it meant he wandered into her bedchamber unannounced.

I'm not the one who left my damned door unlocked! Her fingers curled into fists as the temptation to hurl something larger at him swelled in side her.

“Oh, forgive me for leaving my own damn bedroom door unlocked in my own damn house!" Forgetting herself for a second, Emma allowed her voice to rise until she heard the timbre echo within the walls of her room. When this day was over, she would make sure her father knew his time needed to be up soon. She couldn't tolerate sharing a roof with John Bolton any longer.

Such thoughts had been plaguing her enough over the past few days that she'd even gone ahead and penned a letter to her cousins, to tell them she might be visiting again sooner rather than later. Her aunt wouldn't mind, not when Emma's presence usually managed to keep both Ned and Belle in check--somewhat. Emma hadn't gotten around to sending it yet, the mere presence of the letter laying flatly on her writing desk was enough to quell the irritation for now.

But that had been before he'd traipsed into her room while she was changing. Before he had kissed her in the barn, and gotten upset with her for flirting with his friend. Their embarrassing encounters only seemed to multiply by the day and she found herself wishing for a messenger pigeon or anything to deliver her message across the pond as quickly as possible. She couldn't stand being around him any longer.

“I did not ask you to kiss me, you swine. There was no invitation.” She grumbled. There had certainly been a hope, but no invitation. Even so, she hadn't pushed him away quite quickly enough to hide her enjoyment of it. If she hadn't come to her senses when she did, Emma couldn't be sure how far she would've let him go before she realized the severity of the situation. Especially when he was confessing things to her that no average woman should hear, let alone want to hear. But Emma never claimed to be a normal woman. "Besides, we both know I, of all people, would not be so quick to consider you an intellectual."

After a moment, she let out a frustrated groan. It would be easier to grab her dirtied chemise off the floor just to save her pride, but Emma knew it would never be that easy. He had already embarrassed her and she wasn't about to let him get away unscathed. Even if it was at the cost of her own sanity, she'd make him pay for this.

“My wardrobe…” She began, her arms clutching tighter around her torso. “It’s by the door. Your eyes clearly aren’t in working order so I wouldn’t expect you to notice. But…” She couldn’t believe this was happening, that this was the way she was going about things. At this point, she'd be better off inviting him into her bed instead of tormenting the both of them, but she pressed on.

“May you please fetch a chemise for me? Or anything, really. A damned blanket would suffice right now.” She waited until he turned away again, watching him like she were a cornered animal and he were the enemy. Before she could think better of it, she felt her lips open and a childish mumble tumbled out.

“You could at least pretend you came for something more. It would, at the very least, make the embarrassment would be worth something.”

“But I suppose this makes us even. Truly even. I’ve seen you without a shirt and now, begrudgingly, you’ve seen me without one. Both circumstances, might I remind you, were your doing. For someone who refuses invitations so adamantly, you're certainly determined to have one of us give in to temptation. It's like you’re trying to make me seem like a harlot.”

Emma's seething request to shut the door took Benjamin off-guard, and glancing over his shoulder, he sucked a breath once he noted the blatant view of the hall. How in God's name had he forgotten the bloody door?!

"I...I-I can't get up without seeing you!" he bit back, concerned she might immediately start lobbing projectiles at him again. Nevertheless, with an awkward shuffle, he remained on his hands and knees and skittered back toward the door, his right leg extending before he nudged it shut.

“What the devils is wrong with you?” Emma snarled.

Still refusing to lift his head, lest he see what she was so clearly trying to conceal, Benjamin growled toward the floorboards, "Me? I'm not the one who left my damned door unlocked! I thought this was my bedroom!"

Emma remained unconvinced. “Was accosting me in the barn not enough for you? Now you have to invade my bedroom while I’m undressing?”

He scoffed, lifting his head enough to see her fiery gaze. "You did not seem accosted in that barn," he volleyed. "Most intellectuals would call what you gave an invitation."

That seemed to jolt through Emma akin to a livewire. She balled her fists and snarled, “If you’re here to take up my previous offer, I regret to inform you that the invitation has since expired. And I would’ve at the very least appreciated a bloody knock. A few moments later and you would've bore witness to far more than you deserve.”

"I told you: I thought this was my room!" Benjamin exclaimed, exasperated. "And I am not here for your so-called offer, so you can get off your bloody high horse! Is the fact I'm on my hands and knees not proof enough?"

Wishing she would grab her damnable chemise -- why did she persist in remaining half-dressed?! -- Benjamin ducked his face down into his palms and groaned. "If you would just re-clothe yourself, I could get up and leave," he coolly reminded her. "You're making this far more difficult than it has to be -- I didn't come here for you!"

He'd certainly wound up in the wrong room because of her, absolutely -- he was wholly frazzled after their afternoon gone wrong, and he was embarrassed from his lewd confession in the barn -- so much so that he'd somehow walked right past his own quarters, and stumbled into the proverbial lion's den.

"I don't care if you believe me," Benjamin spoke again. "And although I did not behave as a gentleman this afternoon, that doesn't mean I haven't come to my senses now!"

He certainly wouldn't be making this mistake again any time soon...

[lunarflux]

x: Thomas Shelby found his match in an information bookie who has eluded the grasp of the Peaky Blinders long enough to crumble their power over Birmingham. But at last, he found you. The ghost he'd been chasing was finally in front of him, but you were trickier than he expected. Dangerous, cunning - and a bit too much like himself. To buy your loyalty, he would have to sell his in equal measure. Loyalty for loyalty - blood for blood - how much were either of you willing to spill before the game changed entirely?

part 9: an uncommon kindness

word count: 1,875

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You knew it was coming—the sensation you half-heartedly referred to as an adrenaline crash. It could have been the whiskey, but that would have been an excuse, a poorly crafted one at that. The vision of scarlet ribbons stayed at the forefront of your thoughts, severed flesh and the whites of that man's eyes just after that. No matter how many times it happened, it never got any easier. Or maybe it did, but those moments did not come often, and that's how you preferred it.

After finishing your last drink, you quietly left the Garrison without announcing your departure. You heard the faint shouts of your name as the door closed behind you, but the acid that quickly traveled up your throat at the first taste of cold air kept you preoccupied. You stood alone in an alley, hands bearing down against brick, and let your body do what it had to. That part never lasted long, and it was only a matter of time before the tremble would follow.

For that, you blamed the oncoming winter, and if anyone asked, you were just foolish enough to keep your coat undone.

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The silence after the pub emptied lingered, a heavy weight hanging in the air. Arthur and John let the laughter die out, the adrenaline from the confrontation still buzzing in their veins.

Arthur glanced at John, noticing that his eyes kept returning to the spot where you stood with whiskey dripping from your fingers, the flicker of cold anger in your eyes still fresh in his memory. He was trying to make sense of it all, the way you moved so effortlessly, how you took charge in a situation that most people would’ve hesitated to act in.

“Fuckin' hell...” John started, shaking his head slightly. “One slip, and she could've taken my head off.”

Arthur snorted, leaning against the bar with a half-smirk. “She saved you, John boy. How'd that feel?” He paused, eyeing the door where you walked out. “I reckon you're not gonna give her a pretty little cut now.”

John's brows furrowed as he walked behind the bar, pouring himself a drink to steady the nerves that were steadily returning. “Should we tell Tommy? Fuck—Arthur, I swear to God—if she'd waited a second too long, you'd be stitching me up right now.”

“I’ve seen Tommy do that,” Arthur muttered, almost to himself. “He doesn’t waste a second. Just... Brought the hammer down on their heads. She's the same.”

John looked up, his expression unreadable. “She could’ve let it go. Let us handle it.”

A small smile tugged at Arthur's lips. “Not used to a woman who's not Esme being able to take a swing, eh?"

“She’s one of us now, isn’t she?”

Arthur nodded slowly, his face thoughtful. “Looks to be that way. You heard what Tommy said—told him it was 'just business.' And today's business was either to leave you with a hole in your back or to waste her whiskey. Guess that makes you more valuable than whiskey.”

John cleared his throat. It was a crude but accurate comparison. “But you reckon she cares, yeah? About us, I mean. Or is this just business to her? Because of what we found?”

Arthur doesn’t immediately respond. He looked towards the door, his mind clearly elsewhere. “She didn’t do it for anyone but herself. Made one hell of a point by doing it. Thought she was all talk.”

John watched Arthur, his eyes narrowing as he processed everything.

Arthur rubbed his chin thoughtfully, his gaze still on the door. “She's smarter than us, John boy. In her eyes, there wasn't ever a debt to be paid to you. Fuck... You probably owe her now.”

John’s expression flickered with a realization.

Arthur’s eyes flash with a sharp, knowing look. “Only thing left to do now is make sure you won't owe her something you can't afford. That's what Tommy's gotta deal with now.”

✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒

After the dust settled the next morning, you returned to the betting house, your breath steady and face as unreadable as ever. Tommy was already speaking with the others, his voice commanding, his attention fully back in control. But it was Polly who lingered near you, studying you in that way only she could.

“You’ve got a habit of making people nervous, you know that?” She stood with her arms crossed, not bothering to spare you the eye contact. “Arthur and John—they’ve been talking. And I’ve been listening.”

You sighed with the same cold demeanor she gave you. “And what exactly have they been saying, Polly?”

She smiled, but it was thin, sharp. “Your little stunt at the Garrison last night is quickly making its rounds. If you were secretly hoping for fame, it looks like you're on your way there.”

Her next question hit you heavy with scrutiny and suspicion. You clenched your jaw, preparing for whatever she might ask you because the last thing you wanted was to be unprepared two days in a row. All this fuss made your actions feel more like a burden than a mindless reflex activated by your awareness, something you usually took pride in. It shouldn't have been a surprise Polly thought otherwise.

“So what exactly are you trying to prove by saving John? Was it for him? Or was it for you?”

You swiftly lit your cigarette, answering into the cupped palm of your hand and the flickering flame. "Does it matter?"

"It's that kind of rash thinking that could get you in trouble," she said, her voice low but firm, "Just ask Tommy. He's had to clean up John and Arthur's messes before, and you adding to that mess was not part of the deal you made."

You didn’t respond immediately, letting her words hang in the air, only shifting slightly as you looked at her. Your voice, cold as always, cut through the silence.

“I didn’t want to wait,” you said simply, your eyes locking with hers.

Polly’s eyes narrow, a flicker of something dangerous crossing her features. “Darling, you’ve got everyone’s attention, and I’m not so sure that’s a good thing. You think just because you step in at the right moment that we’ll forget what’s really going on?”

You don’t move an inch as you reply, your voice colder than before. “Have you ever considered that I just do things, or, to you, there must be a motive behind it? That's exhausting, Polly. If you'd rather I give you a reason every time I leave to do fuck all, then eventually, it's all going to be lies.”

Polly studied you for a moment, then took another step forward, her eyes never leaving yours. “Yes, well, I can see it now. Let's say you 'just do things,' then what will happen when you don't? Hm? The next time you choose not to act, will it be your fault or theirs?”

She paused, the air between you both tense.

“I'll say this. Tommy does stupid things that most see as impulse, but he always has a reason. Do what you will—shoot the next man who's made you cross. But you better have a damn good reason for getting blood on our carpet. Being stupid with a reason, I can forgive. Mindless impulse, I cannot.”

You straightened your back. With a subtle roll of your eyes, you hung your head to the side, humming from the small ache in your neck. “Can't you fucking Shelbys say 'thank you' or is it in your nature to interrogate now and give thanks never?”

With a smirk, Polly shook her head and left you alone with smoke trailing behind her.

You swore under your breath. You should've left it alone, let John deal with his own mess. You didn't even know who the man was or why he tried to do what he did, and you didn't bother asking John anything. Your subtle mistakes were slowly catching up to you, and now it was a matter of keeping yourself in check before Tommy assumed like Polly did.

When you looked up from your cigarette, Tommy was slowly approaching you with two glasses in his hands. He handed one to you with his eyes steady in anticipation.

You took a brief sip cautiously.

He didn't speak. He just stood in front of you with his own glass, the silence steadily making you feel uncomfortable. This was the other part of being on his side that was getting to be exhausting—the way he used silence to convince you to say something first.

It mostly bothered you because you knew you did the same thing.

"His name was Leander," Tommy finally spoke. "Old fling of John's wife."

You didn't nod or even show that you acknowledged what he was saying.

"He's alive. His people patched him up. We made sure they left Birmingham. They won't come back."

You set your glass down, crossing your arms with the cigarette between your fingers. "Get on with it."

Tommy chuckled, "With what?"

"I'm getting tired of explaining myself to you. And to Polly. If you're going to ask me why I did it, then do it now instead of calling me back here later."

Tommy lowered his eyes with a smirk. It was fun, seeing you become undone. The back-and-forth between you two was slowly wearing you down. He was so used to people giving up after the first try. You just kept fighting back, and that made it all the more interesting. That was what made games, fun after all. You wouldn't stop, so neither would he.

Curiosity could be satiated, but you made it a challenge. He'd step forward, you'd step back. You made your move, and he'd match you in equal measure. One of you held the knife, and the other held the blade, daring blood to fall just to see who'd pull back first.

He wasn't a fool. There was purpose behind your actions even if you didn't want to admit it. There was no part of your bargain that insinuated you needed to act in any way that forced you out of hiding, and yet you did.

There was a part of you—though you'd rather die than admit it—that was invested. Invested in Tommy, maybe, but it went beyond that. Perhaps, you couldn't help it. It could have been in your nature to be protective of your things, but because you stayed hidden for so long, the only possessions you'd been protective of until this point were sentimental trinkets, the ones that you used to decorate your office.

Now, you were protective of something else. That just meant there was more to lose.

Tommy wouldn't admit it out loud, but what you did forced the slightest change in his perception of you. You could protect yourself should it be necessary. It also hinted that you were fully aware of everything you did—you just held onto those reasons like you did everything else. Tucked away like a secret no one was worthy of.

When he finally grew tired of the silence, Tommy gave you a short nod, as if acknowledging that there was nothing left to be said. You watched him walk away, unable to see the the satisfaction on his face.

[prcttylittlebirds]

“it’s a relief. I would very much like to never see a courtroom again. It’s just weird that i can say i’m divorced now.” rafael feels like the only word he can use to describe how he is coping with his divorce is relief. He imagine his confessing his feelings for her to be taking negatively, but it probably would’ve been best to mention that when they weren’t in the midst of an argument. He doesn’t really know what to say at first. letting her talk and release on her frustrations before he says anything else seems like his best option right now. “ there’s nothing you can really do about chemistry…. i’m not expecting you to read my mind, I’m just expressing that it bothers me a bit, and the only reason that it bothered me at the beginning is because i have all these feelings for you and i couldn’t really say anything because i was married and you’ve very candidly expressed time and time again that you were uncomfortable with the fact that I was married still. i couldn’t exactly say anything that would just change that or make the situation less weird. if i said anything before would that have changed your mind?” he sits down on the sleeping bag. if he was going to get scolded he rather be sitting down while it happens. “vee— if i still was  in love with liv— and let me be clear i’m not— i would be more upset about her having a baby right now with someone else than worrying about who you’re talking to on facetime. i begged stefan to give me his spot, just so i can talk to you… everything with olivia was done before i had these intense feelings for you.” he opens up a little bit more hoping that this will get her to see that he really is all about her. “ you and christopher have more than just chemistry too. i’m not just going off of silly theories I’m making up in my head, venus. i’ve seen you two kiss in front of me… i’ve heard you speak speak to each other— your ambitions were lowered, but there was still things that you were saying to him and that he was saying to you that made me think a little harder. it’s more than just you being attracted to him.” he sighs, hoping she really hears him. “you both have more in common than you and i do. when i talk about how i grew up and stuff, i can tell you feel a way about that. especially today when i was talking about the cabin idea i was only thinking about space-wise… and i know you guys joke around about how i can’t cook and stuff… and it’s funny, but when you put it into a different context, it’s not funny anymore. y’know? i can’t help but worry about stuff like that when it comes to christopher.” raf hates that the camping trip is starting out like this. “ this is not how i wanted tonight to go… i wasn’t supposed to say i liked you so soon… i had a speech planned.”

rafael knows that venus wouldn’t let him sleep outside in the pouring rain, but he also doesn’t know how this conversation is going to go. there’s no time for nerves. “chris bothers me… i didn’t wanna stand there and listen to you talk to your ex about how he wants to cook for you and whatever else. i wasn’t really tuned in to your conversation after a certain point.” why couldn’t she see that he has fallen head over heels for her? it’s clear now that he has to verbally say to her as soon as he possibly can manage to get it out. His reaction to chris is the direct tie to his feelings for her, if only she could understand that… see that, maybe everything will be easier for them. “i had things to tell you that i couldn’t tell you yet because I wasn’t divorced yet and i didn’t want to say anything before then, that’s why there wasn’t any texts or clear communication on my part and it was in poor taste because i know how you interpret that kind of behavior i should have of handled that better.” he stops talking to take a breather for a second before saying the next thing. “you being attracted to him is a problem for me, do you not understand that that’s why i react the way i do? i have feelings for you and you saying they are attracted to your ex is not something that’s exactly easy to hear. so, yeah it is bullshit— it’s not fun to listen to you talk about how you would sleep with him again and if given the chance he would sleep with you too… it’s one thing to be friends with your ex, but the added chemistry is very much unsettling, especially because i like you so much.” he shakes his head. “my divorce was finalized… that’s what i wanted to talk about, but not really in the form of a semi-heated discussion.”

[detentiontrack]

i think the people criticizing chappell roan right now don't understand how bipolar disorder works. chappell roan is diagnosed with bipolar 2. do you know how hard it is to keep it together with major life changes when you are constantly going through phases of hypomania/mania and depression? big life changes can trigger a catastrophic episode. i was hospitalized after moving or almost moving TWICE. you know what is a really big change? suddenly becoming as famous as she is in such a short period of time. bipolar can also cause paranoia and difficulty trusting people. you know what can trigger that? being constantly approached in public by people asking for hugs and pictures and literally FOLLOWING HER WHEREVER SHE GOES. SOME of yall are like "mental health matters <3" but as soon as someone puts down reasonable boundaries or prioritizes their mental health, y'all go after them. i feel that some of you guys just expect musicians and other artists to be emotionless content machines and call them selfish when they actually experience emotions and need boundaries in place. chappell roan is a human being before she is a musician. she does NOT owe you ANYTHING!! at this point the people whining just sound selfish and unsympathetic.

[whereisthedamndaddymanual]

When you form your own grid on top of the grid it doesn't mean the owner of the Grid can't come Knocking

[the-judicial-assistants-notebook]

why didn't they just use franziska for literally all of this.

[thats-a-lot-of-cortisol]

2 & 3 from section 1 for peri and 7 from whichever section has a more interesting #7 for diodore -moss

oooh these are fun ones!

2. Describe their tent set-up (outside and inside) (Peri)

I think Peri's tent is constructed similarly to Gale and Astarion's (boxy, fabric walls, little covered area outside). Deep blue fabric w/ golden astronomical embroidery, mostly the sort of thing you see on star maps. Little golden tassles around the edges of the tarp (?) and the doorframe. He'd have a small, circular, dark wood side table short enough that you can use it sitting on the ground, and a dark blue pillow next to it; there would be some parchment and a bronze miniature astrolabe on the table. The inside would be just. full to the brim with the gaudiest night-sky-themed pillows you've ever seen. No bedroll, no palette, just a nest that would put those cube pits in trampoline parks to shame. There would be two bird perches for his familiar Medani: one taller one next to his tent and one shorter one under the overhang. The shorter one would have a crow-sized bow-tie hanging from it. Rugs on rugs on the outside area ofc. 3. What would their character quest be titled? Why? (Peri)

This is a hard one! His tav ending involves taking over the Waterdeep arm of the Harpers, so I think his arc would have something to do with that. He'd be pretty bitter about being dropped into another near-apocalyptic mess when dealing with the last one a few years prior was supposed to be a one-time thing. Something-something ptsd in a world that doesn't have the words for that yet, something-something 'once a hero always a hero', something-something the weight of responsibility...he's a planeswalker so I think part of it would be whether he decides to stay on Toril long-term and directly help rebuild the Waterdeep Harpers or if he continues to run travel around afterwards, so maybe The Far Traveller/The Far Walker?

Harpson/Fae-son are also potential options. "Fae-son" nods to him being a changeling without it being super obvious (like Astarion's "The Pale Elf"). It would also mimic his backstory reveals from RoT ("oh he's not 'from here' so, like, the Feywild" -> "OH he's not from here"). 7. Describe their arc. How would a player help resolve it? What choices can be made? Can your Tav be turned down a dark path, or pulled to a lighter one? (Diodore)

Buckle up because we're in for a long one here. I've thought about Dora's story arc a lot because she's the first of my tavs that I truly made for the game while having full control over her backstory, etc. (versus Corentin, who had their arc baked into the story as a durge). Dora's a paladin of Corellon (oath of ancients) and her story arc as a companion would have to do with whether or not she should accept capital-r-Redemption, the process by which a drow can be truly "freed" from Lolth and rejoin the ranks of the rest of elven society. It involves all of the Redeemed drow's memories being erased and them being reincarnated as a surface elf. The implication seems to be that without that, regardless of a drow's actions, they'd be thrown back to Lolth when they die? Or at least that their eternal fate is unknown (which is the way I prefer to think of it for. personal reasons). Under normal circumstances, Dora would be a long way from Redemption being presented to her at all (she's not even 200 yet and has only been on the surface for a couple decades), but like with the other gods' Chosen among the companions, near-apocalyptic circumstances tend to speed up those sorts of things.

Of course, you'd have the themes of faith & relationship with deity when they're all unequivocally real and are also mostly all assholes; maintaining or breaking generational cycles; facing the unknown; morality when none of your choices are "good" (and how that interacts with morality vs self preservation); power vs freedom; identity outside of the people who made you; etc. The choice would first be presented to her sometime in late Act I/early Act II, likely the first long rest after the group resurfaces from the Underdark and you've probably gotten some of her backstory already. I have no idea how Larian would have characterized Corellon, but he's considered one of the more benevolent/open-minded deities iirc, which could be interesting to see contrasted with Mystra, Vlaa'kith, and Shar. How much that open-mindedness would extend to a drow, even one who has been a faithful follower even before she escaped to the Surface (and who inherited that faith from her father), is unclear. At the beginning of the game she would be leaning towards accepting Redemption, despite her own misgivings about whether or not she would still be her in that case.

Her final decision (at the ending pier scene) would depend on the relationship she has with the PC and the other companions. Her best ending, imo, would be her not accepting Redemption but continuing to be a force for good. If she has a good relationship with the PC, she would have something to lose. I think seeing the House of Mourning would affect her too. After all, the thing Corellon is offering to her as a way to find peace is the same thing the Sharrans are using as a way to manipulate and control others.

She's viscerally aware of how she was socialized and very actively chooses "good", so pushing her towards a darker path would be incredibly difficult but not impossible. If you side with the goblins she'll leave immediately, and turn on you if she's in your party when you attack the grove. But if you decide to try and control the cult in Act II, depending on your over-all actions before then and how you've interacted with her, you could disillusion her to the point of convincing her to break her oath. That path would entail convincing her that controlling the cult is actually the best idea. I'm sure there would be other times that her oath could break that wouldn't necessarily lock her into an "evil" path, especially with how Oathbreakers are handled in the game. Knocking out Minthara instead of killing her outright and letting Auntie Ethel go in Act I instead of killing her are two things that come to mind.

If she doesn't choose Redemption she would be at the epilogue party, of course. I'm a bit undecided on what would happen if she does choose Redemption. She may not be there at all, w/ Jaheira, Halsin, Minthara, and/or Astarion mentioning running into her in her new, reincarnated state. Or she would be there, confused, and mention how the PC seems familiar in a way she can't quite place. In that case, she would ask them how they know each other and mention something about feeling a twinge of grief looking at everyone, but that she doesn't know why she feels that way. It would be up to the PC how much they tell her (if they tell her anything at all).

[writersdrug]

Price getting reader a step stool cause she keeps asking Bartender!Ghost to reach stuff for her. Simon obviously brakes it when no ones looking. 👀🤭

LOL

"Is this your way of insulting me?" You ask, holding the colorful, children's stepstool in your hands. You're grimacing at it, a look that has Price chuckling as he folds up the bag from the store.

"I figured you could use it - now ya don't have to wait for Simon to grab anything for you." He says, patting you on the shoulder.

"I don't mind the wait..." You mumble under your breath. The stool feels as decorative as a clowns nose as you tuck it under your arm and head towards the stairs. "I'm keeping it upstairs, I don't need customers laughing at me when I pull this out. Might take it home and spray paint it."

"Suit yourself." Price calls as you bound up the stairs. He heads over to the bar, where Simon is currently polishing the glasses you convinced him to order for the Halloween drink.

"Got a problem with me helpin' 'er?" Simon says, thick fingers rubbing the glass with a rag. He doesn't mean to sound defensive... but he can't help the bite in his tone.

Price smirks, picking up on the jealousy laced into Simon's words. "Thought you might like it. Makes your life easier, and 'ers." He pops open the register and starts filtering through the bills, replacing the larger value ones with smaller ones.

"You don't think I'm capable of runnin' a bar and helping you waitress at the same time?"

"No, but I think you'd be better off if you didn't have to run so much. She's brought in so much business as it is, your workload's gotten heavier."

Simon huffs. "Ya just want to separate us, hm? Want 'er all to yourself." He jokes, grabbing another glass and buffing it.

Price shrugs. "And if I am?" He says, giving him a side glance.

Ghost slows his ministrations, turning his head to his captain. They both stare at each other for a moment, Simon with his slightly angry, slightly questioning glare, and Price with his unwavering eyes. Simon wants to tell him to back down, that you're his - but he can't say that, because you aren't his. He wants you to be. But he doesn't know how to make it happen without letting his walls down.

Price chuckles, turning back to the register to continue swapping bills. "Y'know, if you want to say somethin' you'd best say it." He comments, snapping the drawer shut. "Missed opportunities often come from miscommunication."

He leaves Simon at the bar, heading towards the stairs with his money folder. You jog down the steps and nearly crash into him - he quickly grabs your shoulders and spins you out of the way before you can collide with him. You throw a "sorry!" over your shoulder as you carry an armful of various fruits, leaving Price chuckling as he ascends the stairs to the office.

"The oranges up there aren't looking too great." You chirp, dumping the fruit onto his workspace. A few lemons and limes roll onto the floor, and you bend down to chase them. Simon watches you, a bit miffed at how unaware you were of the situation. What do you think of Price? Do you like him? Would you flirt with him as much as you do with Simon?

You return with the escaped fruit. "I can run to Sevvy's store and grab some for tonight, if you want? The ones upstairs are looking a bit pruney."

"Are you actually gonna use that thing?"

"Huh?" You look at him with confusion written on your face. "What thing?"

"The stool." He looks down at you, his expression unreadable. "'S a bit demeaning, don'tcha think?"

You paused, watching him move the fruit to the side and grab a plastic cutting board. "I mean... he bought it, and I wouldn't have to bug you so much. If I spray paint it black or something, it won't look that ridiculous."

He nods. "Hm."

"I used it to grab the fruit."

"That's interestin'." He mumbles, slicing through an orange. You were right, they have seen better days.

He turns to pop open the register and hands you some bills. "Go get a few oranges, no more than ten. Order should be comin' in tomorrow."

You smile and take the money, stuffing it in your back pocket. With a few hours remaining before the restaurant opens, you go through the kitchen, grab your jacket, and head out the back.

Simon's back to chopping fruit and dumping it into a small bin, bitterly thinking over what Price had said. It's a stool. Price got it to help you and himself. It was a thoughtful purchase. But it's not just that. However unserious this is to Price, he's trying to rile Simon up. He's treating you like the last slice of cake in the tin - Price would like to have it, but he knows Simon's groveling for it. He's forcing Simon to ask for what he wants, and the bartender doesn't like that one bit. Normally, it wouldn't be something that irks him so easily - but this is you we're talking about. Not just anything. You. He wants to grab Price by the collar and throw him into next week with how he's trying to wedge between you and Simon - but he doesn't like having a weakness. He'll keep his cool for now. He'll make a move... eventually.

For now, the only aggressive side he'll present is passive.

Price leaves late that night, somewhere between two and three in the morning. He's beat, spending most of the night between helping you run food and drinks, and fifo-ing the pantry and overflow rooms. He's planning for a day off - of course, after he goes to the bank and comes back here to pay everyone. He's jealous of Simon, who's already upstairs for the night - he wishes he only had a short trip to the third floor before he could crash into his bed. Rather, he has to trek a hefty number of blocks home through the dark streets. He's more worried about going to bed at a decent hour than walking around at night with a bag full of money - people usually steer clear of him when they see his stature.

He locks the back door behind him, puffing out a foggy breath into the frigid air. It's only getting colder - he'll have to break out his gloves and scarf soon. The beanie won't be enough. He shoves one hand into his pocket, the other holding a small bag of trash from the office. He mentally ticks off what he needs to do this week as he grabs the garbage bins, dragging them behind him and towards the street for the trucks to empty in the morning. He pushes them against the store front, taking the lid off and dropping the light trash bag inside.

The loud thunk makes him do a double take. Did he throw away something important? He lifts the bag once again, and a disappointed expression falls upon his face. The colorful kiddie stool he bought for you is there, pieces snapped apart and shoved deep into the bin. Simon didn't even try to hide it underneath the other bags. It's almost like he left it there for Price to catch.

He sighs, dropping the bag and placing the lid back. He trudged down the sidewalk towards his home - he's not too upset by it. He had a feeling Ghost was sinking his teeth into you, and frankly, it's gotten to the point where Price is afraid of what the man might do if someone else tries to take you away. But damn, if his ex-lieutenant's going to make a move, he'd better make a fucking move. For your sake, if not his own.

He pulls his phone from his pocked and shoots Simon a quick, blunt message.

You're paying me back for that.