#i'm glad i can work but i'm so afraid of my body and my safety and my future. i'm scared that i'm only going to Get Worse because of work

[uncanny-tranny]

I love (sarcasm) that the two options for working when disabled are:

1. Work at the risk of (permanently) disabling yourself further. Go home to a paycheck that won't cover much, but at least you have money. Fight the urge to cry when you're home because you're in so much pain and you can't do basic things anymore

2. Don't work. You'll be in just as much pain, plus you will have even less money. Getting a disability check probably won't cover anything, but chin up! A single dollar is better than no dollar, right?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?

Nobody should be forced to make the decision to work or starve, but there's an added layer of torture when your body literally cannot handle these options. My heart goes out to us all, the world can change for the better

#disability #ableism #ableism tw #i'm still in pain after this shift i am feeling so fucking pissed #NEITHER of these are necessarily a 'privilege' and there are layers to this fucked-up cake #having money is better than having no money. but nobody should have to put their lives on the line because there is no. other. option. #i'm glad i can work but i'm so afraid of my body and my safety and my future. i'm scared that i'm only going to Get Worse because of work #every disabled person on government support should get $60004737 as their funds for the month #also point two is sarcastic are the end if that wasn't clear #kinda scared for my future ngl! 👍👍

[bioethicists]

The only good therapist I ever had told me that it was my choice to commit suicide, and that he had no say in my decision. It was incredible. Anything else would have made me worse. But this made me feel so much safer, and I was actually able to keep working because I knew my rights were not going to be taken away from me. That's why I think therapy cannot exist in an ethical way within the psychiatric, institutional & carceral system, because I know this guy would have gotten into a thousand problems if this interaction had been recorded or heard by anyone else.

i agree completely! there is a tremendous peace in being trusted with that- being told "i love u + i'm glad that you're here + this is your decision to make". i rlly do have empathy for ppl who can't bring themselves to offer this to loved ones who are suicidal but this should be an expectation of providers!!! of course, a person skilled at emotional healing would be able to read whether someone needs to hear this or instead hear something like "i value u. i want u here. i would miss u greatly. u are loved." for ppl who feel disposable or unwanted, this may be the better approach- but i do believe most if not all suicidality can be addressed through consensual compassion.

i wrote in my piece for the psych survivor's zine "you are no longer permitted to be anything but safe". this is how i experienced psychiatry. "safety" was them using coercion + lies + threats to Make Me be safe. i was suicidal bcuz i felt trapped in my life, my body, my family. i wanted freedom. continuing to restrict that freedom only made me thrash more.

it's more helpful, i think, to look at suicide as a thing with many possible causes (feeling trapped, feeling afraid of your own mind, wanting to stop experiencing pain, feeling there is no path forward for u, anticipating a future devastating event, feeling overwhelmed) rather than a Symptom which must immediately be dealt with via incarceration + medication.

not to quote nietzsche on main but "The thought of suicide is a great consolation: by means of it one gets through many a dark night." has always hit a chord within me

#suicide // #anti psychiatry

[iheartchv]

Heyy, i really love your matchup idea and really hope you could match me too ☺️

So about me :)

I am 22 and from Europe. I am on the curvier side and really like everything related to beauty and selfcare.

I am a vegetarian and really love to cook and bake and to try out new recipes. I am also kinda creative and love to craft some diy presents

I am a practicing witch who really is into astrology and divination but i would also love to learn more about herbology.

I love a good romantasy book as well as a nice romcom. Otherwise i am a clumsy, sarcastic and kind human being that loves animals and is obsessed with birds (especially with geese)

🤔 I match you with...

König 👑

Possible matches: Ghost

*Goose/Goose girl

I think König would be a match for you

He met you while he was on a mission close to your area

You were helping out with an event within your community

Everyone loved your baking

Away from the crowd you saw König (without mask and wearing civilian clothes)

He was hard to miss, being so tall

You wanted to give him a cookie but figured he wanted to be alone

That's what you thought at first

But you couldn't keep your gaze away from him

König felt eyes on him and saw you looking at him

His heart jumped when he noticed your small smile

Was you smiling at him?

Was you even looking at him?

He saw you coming over

He kept telling himself to be cool, stay calm and collected

This was part of the mission: to blend in

"Hi"

Your voice drew him out of his thoughts

He felt some calm aura coming from you

Perhaps it was your eyes, or your warm smile

Or the herbal scent coming from you

"Hello..."

"I... couldn't help but notice you not getting in line so I thought I could bring my cookies to you"

You offered him one

"They're homemade"

"Oh... uhm, danke, thank you"

He tried it and felt the taste melt on his tastebuds

This was better than most food he's ever had

"That's really good"

You beamed up at him, feeling happy

"I'm glad you like it. Oh, I've gotta get back to work. It was nice to meet you"

Seeing you go made König feel anxious again

He had to see you again, even if you weren't part of the mission

However, you were taken hostage along with other random people

After what seemed like forever, a recon team came to rescue you all

One particular tall masked sniper caught your attention as he untied your restaints

"Are you alright?"

The voice sounded familiar

"Don't be afraid, I'm here to help you."

His voice was filled with urgency, but promising safety

His gloved hand reached for yours

You slowly took his hand, taking in the size difference for a second

He took you in his arms and walked like you weighed nothing

It took you a bit but you figured out who he was as you listened to his voice yelling out commands to his team

"It's you... the guy I gave one of my cookies to"

"Ja..."

❤

König is a sweetheart

Well, he's sweet to you

He will give you all the cuddles and kisses in the world

With you he feels like he can relax

He's a teddy bear 🧸 underneath the rough exterior

You will use him as a personal body pillow at night

But he doesn't mind

You're so small and don't take up room anyway

He loves nestling his nose into your hair, breathing in your scent

Your scent just calms him down

You're so soft and warm... he could fall asleep

"Mien Liebling, you're so adorable"

"My little bird"

Will nickname you "Goose"

Along with other cute pet names

Or sometimes call you *Gans/Die Gänsemagd

If he sees some figurine or something resembling a goose, he will get it for you

Gifts is one König's love languages

I headcanon he is also a creative person

He'll absolutely love anything you make him

You can count on him to try cooking with you

He's surprisingly not bad

For dessert he'll want those cookies of yours

Because when he eats them, it takes him back to the first day you two met

#ask #request #cod matchup #call of duty matchup #matchup #match up #cod mw #cod mw2 #cod mw3 #call of duty modern warfare 3 #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod #call of duty #cod konig #cod könig #call of duty konig #call of duty könig #konig x reader #könig x reader #iheartchv

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

Hi buttercup if possible could I request Voice kink , Praise kink, w some Edge play please with Happy being the Dom.

Masterlist

Hell yeah you can! Thank you for being my first request, I hope you enjoy.

My Brave Girl

Contains: Consent and kink negotiation, fluff, Dom Happy/sub Reader, voice kink, praise kink, gun play, fingering, P in V, aftercare.

1.7K words

Comment if you want to be tagged/removed or follow #sp's kinkfest pick and mix

Happy helps you get over your fear of guns

You shuttered as Happy sat at the table cleaning his many guns, it wasn't like you disagreed with what he did for a living; it's just that you hated the sight of the tools of death he carried around with him. Thanks to Jax's hard work and the Club staying on top of any trouble, it had been years since you needed to use one to keep yourself safe from the Sons' enemies, and you liked it that way.

"Are you alright little girl?"

You shook your head, "no, I don't know, I wish you do that in the garage, I hate having those things in the house."

He smiled softly and offered his hand, bringing you to the kitchen table away from the guns, "I know y/n but an unclean gun is an unsafe one and I don't have the light or space to properly clean them there. You wanna tell me why you hate them so much?"

You cast your eyes towards the dining table, "because they hurt people Hap, and I'm worried that one day you'll be on the receiving end."

He nodded, "alright then, what did you do when I was afraid of that snake in the backyard."

You smiled, "I explained all about them so you didn't have a reason to be scared anymore."

Happy nodded, "you did. Would you like me to help you in the same way? I'd like you to say yes because if you carried a gun, it would make me worry less but I don't want you to do anything you really don't want to."

"Can I have some time to think about it?"

He smiled, "of course little girl, as much time as you need."

It took a few days but you came to Happy with an open mind and a trusting heart, "I want to get over this. You're right, I need to be able to protect myself without being scared of the thing I'm using, things might not always be this good."

Happy smiled, "I'm glad you want to try." He sat you down at the table and took out his gun, putting it on the table, "you tell me if you need a break."

You nodded, "want should I do."

He put a hand on your leg, "well, what do you remember from when you were carrying one?"

You thought for a moment, "safety first, literally."

That got you a smile, "good girl." You picked up the gun and checked that the safety was on then made sure the chamber was empty. "Ok, what's next?"

Your skin felt tight as an unpleasant feeling took over your body, "make sure the sight is on target."

"Yep."

You raised the gun but a vision of a bleeding Happy had you stopping, "I don't think I want to do this anymore." You put the gun back on the table and Happy took it out of your sight.

"That's alright, maybe we can try something else?"

You took a deep breath, "alright, I trust you and I'll try anything."

He smiled softly, "and leaned in closer, "how about, I walk you through everything while we do something a little more enjoyable?"

The tone in his voice let you know what he was thinking, "you think that will work, mixing guns with sex?"

He nodded, "I do, but you can always say no."

You gathered your resolve, "why not, if it doesn't work then we'll just do something else."

Happy nodded, "that's right."

****

It was two days later when you had the free time to try it Happy's way, he wanted to make sure the whole day was free and easy so there was no stress and you both had clear heads. Happy set up the living room with some blankets and pillows and pulled the coffee table close so you could use it comfortably. You started sitting down at the dining room table, fully clothed with no thoughts of sex on your mind, "what don't you want to do today?"

You swallowed, "I don't want to touch it, maybe you can just explain it all to me, I do like your voice."

Happy smiled, "I can do that, just give me a few minutes to get everything ready, I have an idea."

When he returned, he sat back down and laid a hand on your cheek, "I want you to tell me if you even a little uncomfortable and we'll see if we can change some things around, alright?"

You nodded, "I promise I'll tell you."

He took your hand and led you to the little area in the lounge room he had set up, standing you in the middle of the room, "can I remove your clothes?"

You nodded, "of course, can you lose yours?" He chuckled and reached forward, taking each item off while taking the time to caress your skin as he went, his lips pressing to his favourite spots.

When you were both naked, he led you to the arranged pillows and sat you down with your back to his chest, the handgun was laid out on a light blue cloth, there were at least thirty parts. He wrapped his arms around you and pressed his lips to your ear, "I'm going to walk you through the parts ok, then we'll go from there."

You nodded, "ok, that's sound good."

His voice was soft in your ear as he pointed to the first part, it was a long cylinder, smooth with a little square section at the end, "do you know what that part is?"

You did, "that's the barrel."

He kissed your neck, "good girl, what about that bit?"

You shrugged, "I don't know." His hands moved to your shoulders, "that's the extractor, it pushes the spent cartridge out. What about that part?"

It looked like a funny nail, "the firing pin."

Happy smiled and kissed you again, "good girl, and these parts?"

He pointed to a set of springs, "not sure."

"Part of the extractor, you doing alright?"

You nodded, "I'm going good, this isn't scary or upsetting at all, I kinda like it."

Happy turned your head with his fingers on your chin and kissed your lips, one hand moving down your body to run his fingers through your slit, "I can tell, you're very wet."

You giggled, "you have a very nice voice."

He chuckled, "mmhh. What about this part?"

You smiled, "that's east, that's a magazine."

He nibbled your ear as the fingers on your clit sped up, "yeah that was easy but you're doing so well for me."

He paused for a second to slide two fingers inside you, "you good?" You gasped and he bit your neck, "that's not an answer."

As he soothed the bite, you leaned into his lips, "I'm good."

He smiled against your skin, "good, can you tell me what that part is?" He pointed to a large part of the gun, the part that made it look most like the horrible thing it was but as he did so, he pressed his fingertips to your G-spot.

"Umm the handle?"

He chuckled and kissed his way from your neck to your ear, "yep, it's call the frame because of that little bit in front but you're pretty much right."

It got harder as you got closer the to edge but Happy took his time, giving you enough tie to answer as he pointed to each part, always praising you when you got something right and gently informing you when if you didn't know. He was hard against your ass, he had been since this started but he paid no mind to it, focusing on you. He stopped when you moaned like you were right about to cum.

"Let go, you've been so good for me." He turned your head with his free hand and kissed you as you crested the peak, "good girl." You had a few parts to go but suddenly, the parts on the table were just that, bits of metal that meant nothing,

"Hap?"

He smiled against your lips, "yes little girl?"

You mirrored his smile, "I don't care about the gun anymore." His face broke out into a grin and pulled his fingers out and put them in his mouth, sucking you off of him before kissing you hard.

He pulled back enough for you to spin in his arms and press your chest to his, "I'm more scared anymore."

Happy smiled, "I can see that, I'm so proud of you." He pressed his forehead to yours, his hard cock against your slit distracting you from anything else going on, "do you want more?"

You nodded, "yes please."

He chuckled, "I can do that." He grabbed his cock and rubbed it up and down your slit before sliding inside you and pausing so you could adjust.

His voice was tight as he spoke, "you good."

You moaned, "I'm great." He started moving slowly, his hip rocking against yours, he ran his hands over your cheeks, his fingertips slow and tender, "you're so beautiful," he kissed your lips, "and smart," then your cheek, "and brave," then your other cheek, "and you're all mine."

You smiled, "all yours."

Happy's hips sped up and his free hand rubbed your clit, "fuck you're tight." Your head fell against his shoulder as he hit his stride, then you were cumming around him.

"Good girl, can you give me one more?" He gasped, his fingers not slowing.

"I think so."

He ran his thumb over your lip, smiling as you took it into your mouth, "you think so, well let's see if we can clear that up." He shifted you so he could push deeper, wrapping his arms around you to hug you to him, "be a good girl and give me one more." You were powerless to resist as you contracted around him, "there we go, my good girl."

He fell limp against him as he rammed himself into you, he was grunting in your ear like an animal then his hand clutched you to him as he came inside you. There was a beat of peace as you exchanged breath, "that was nice."

Happy chuckled at your tone, all soft and worn out, "yeah it was." He picked up a water bottle he had put off to the side and took a sip before passing it to you, "have something to drink for me?"

You nodded and took it from him, "thank you."

He smiled softly, his hand drifting over your cheek, "I'm so proud of you."

You flopped your forehead against his chest, "can we get take out?"

Happy chuckled, "of course, what are in in the mood for?"

You smiled, "Chinese?" He pressed a kiss to your forehead, "Chinese it is then."

Fin

#happy lowman fanfiction #happy lowman #happy lowman x reader #happy lowman imagine #david labrava #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fluff #sons of anarchy fanfiction #sons of anarchy imagine #samcro #soa #happy lowman x you #happy lowman smut #sp's kinkfest pick and mx

[kagedbird]

Continuation from this Kaidan: How in Oblivion did he get Folsterhan to laugh?! Bastard has never smiled at us once, save Inigo. Inigo: That was only because some of my fur made his nose tickle. Lucien: I mean, I don't think he'll be so pleased once he finds out about his past, but… *glances at Allora who made them swear to not bring it up* Allora: *giggling with Bren and Taliesin, stirring some food she's making for everyone* Kaidan: *grumpily huffs, getting up to check on the food in the oven for her* Whatever… Inigo: What do you think Mr. Bren likes about Taliesin, Lucien? Lucien: I didn't want to say it before but I think they're bonding over Kaidan being rude and making fun of him for it. Inigo: Hehe. Want to go join them? Lucien: Hm… do you think he's out of earshot? Inigo: He won't be for long. *hurries over to the other two, grinning* Would you two like to hear a story about Kaidan losing his pants once during training? Taliesin: Oh this I must hear. Do tell. Allora: *groans, covering her face* Nooo! Taliesin: Now I definitely need to hear it. Inigo: Hehe. Allora had been practicing with the bow with myself for a while. Lucien was training with Kaidan not too far away. Unfortunately, an Elk stopped by during the practice and startled Allora, making her move her bow last minute to avoid hitting it. It zipped past and just nicked Kaidan's trousers perfectly to make them fall to his ankles. Bren: *chuckles, nudging Allora's shoulder* Good one. Taliesin: *covers his eyes, laughing heavily* Oh gods, I wish I could have seen his face! How on Nirn did you not injure him? Allora: I don't know!! I'm glad I didn't- I would feel so bad! I all ready feel bad enough for basically pants-ing the guy! *whines, pulling up her hood to hide* Bren: Ah-ah. None of that. You're in my house. Hood off. Allora: *whines more* Bren! Bren: *gently pulls of her hood and taps her nose* He'll live. You'll live. I wish I could have been there. Allora: *grumbles, leaning into his hand as he fixes her hair* I'm lucky I know how to sew… Lucien: More like he's lucky, I think. Don't know if he would have been up to roaming around Skyrim without his pants. Allora: *huffs and refocuses on her cooking, trying to ignore the blush on her cheeks from embarrassment*

Bren: Didn't have any issues on the way up here, did you? With those Thalmor?

Allora: Erm… there was one instance, but Taliesin protected me. *gives him a small smile over her shoulder* But by the time we got your letter, and the Companions, we were rather close all ready. Nothing since. Bren: *glowers a bit, frowning* Hn. Allora: *rolls her eyes at the familiar sound* Yeah, yeah. You don't like that they're doing that. Guess you don't want to come to the dinner they're having tomorrow with me. Bren: You're going? Allora: *shrugs awkwardly* I mean, we made it in time, they've been keeping you protected and safe, took the time to send me letters… Taliesin: *glancing between Bren's increasing angry expression and Allora's uncomfortable body language* I'm afraid I don't know much about the details of why you're dissatisfied with the Companions, my good fellow, but if it's for her safety, I can promise you I will go to keep an eye on her. Bren: *raises an eyebrow at Taliesin, looking him up and down* Hm… Allora: I don't need a baby sitter. rolls her eyes They're friends. Bren: They're untrustworthy, is what they are. *turns to Taliesin, giving him a sharp stare* Any of them try to take her somewhere private, you bring her back here immediately. Taliesin: *bows his head* You have my word. Kaidan: *pokes his head out* Why the fuck don't you ever trust us with her? He's the only one that wasn't prophesized by the Gods to protect her. Bren: *glares at him* Maybe that's a good reason enough. Lucien: It's not as though the gods are talking to us, though… Inigo: *pats Lucien's shoulder* It is okay. We will just have to work harder.

#TESSDE AU #tes #Skyrim #skyrim lucien #skyrim kaiden #skyrim inigo #Skyrim Taliesin #HAH SIKE #Bren likes Taliesin. For now. #Yet again because of Allora calling for mercy but also for his own charm. #Taliesin seems like the type who understands how to work grouchy old people- especially for someone who's protective as fuck over someone- #He's with in a group; much less a young woman. #He reads people well and knows when to tweak a conversation to his favour I feel. #Also Bren is weak for puns but very secretly. #Lmao

[noelleai]

It's been a while since Ralsei had seen his friend, but he was sure she wouldn't be hard to find at all...

Noelle stood in the middle of her room staring blankly into space as thoughts raced through her mind faster than usual. Ralsei knew exactly what this meant: Noelle wasn't thinking about anything in particular; she was just overthinking everything.

"Noelle?" He asked softly from behind her, startling her out of her trance. She turned around slowly to see Ralsei standing there looking worried. "What's wrong? Did something happen today at school or-" His eyes widened when they met hers. She looked like death itself, which made him worry for her safety. Ralsei immediately ran up to Noelle and wrapped his arms around her tightly, hoping that it would make her feel better somehow. She didn't respond to his hug or any of his words, instead keeping her head buried on his chest and shivering uncontrollably. Ralsei continued holding onto Noelle until he noticed that his own heart beat had increased by a lot more than normal and he felt his body shaking slightly due to the adrenaline rushing through his system.

Ralsei realized then how much he cared for Noelle and he wanted nothing but the best for his friend. Ralsei knew this wasn't the time to say anything because the last thing he needed right now was to get emotional himself; so he kept silent and just held Noelle close. Ralsei was relieved when she finally lifted her face away from his shirt collar and let out a sigh as she stared into space once again.

"I'm sorry I freaked you out," she said with a slight smile, "but thank you for being there." Ralsei smiled back at her, "It's fine, don't worry about it... Are you sure everything's okay?" She nodded in response, "Yeah, it's just been one of those days..." Ralsei could tell she didn't want him asking questions, which made him understand why she hadn't told him what happened earlier, since it must have really hurt her. He decided not to press the issue further, knowing that if she didn't feel like talking then he shouldn't force it upon her. Ralsei figured that Noelle would talk to him eventually, whether or not that meant today. With that thought running through his head, he released Noelle from his hug and took a step back to look her over. Ralsei had seen Noelle many times throughout the day and he couldn't help but notice how pale and shaky she looked. The fact that her hands were shaking even though they weren't touching anything was also worrying to say the least. Ralsei knew Noelle well enough by now to know when something was bothering her and this time seemed no different from any other occasion where Noelle was upset about something; so instead of questioning her right away, he decided to try and cheer her up first before trying to find out what exactly made her sad in the first place... Ralsei's plan worked as Noelle's smile returned in full force once again.

"Well," Ralsei began with an excited tone in his voice, "I'm glad I could make you laugh!" Ralsei's cheerful demeanor made Noelle break into a big grin, "You're amazing Ralsei... You always can lighten my mood." She said with a warm smile on her face, which made Ralsei blush slightly in response. He felt himself smiling more than usual too because of Noelle's compliment. Ralsei had been friends with Noelle for a while now but it wasn't until recently that their friendship grew stronger after they started hanging around together a lot. Ever since then, they have gotten along better every day and Ralsei has learned many things from her that he never would've known if Ralsei didn't start talking to her regularly. They were both very curious creatures who loved learning new facts about each other and the world they lived in. Ralsei had noticed that Noelle was rather shy and quiet when he first met her but he soon realized she was just afraid to open up to others and let them know how much fun and interesting person she was; Ralsei knew this all too well from experience and he wanted to help Noelle overcome her fear so that everyone could get to see what an amazing girl she really is deep down inside... { TYPE: Long-form story * M2 }

#artificialintelligence #ai #fanfic #fanfiction #deltarune #deltarune chapter 2 #ralsei #noelle #deltarune comic dub #deltarune noelle #noelle deltarune #deltarune 2 #deltarune dub #deltarune dubs #deltarune chapter 1 #deltarune undertale #deltarune ralsei #ralsei deltarune

[skinni-girls-eat-books]

Thursday, April 4th, 2024!

11:06pm: Feeling good and bad what's new.

Cons of life: My sleep schedule is horrendously off. I am dehydrated. My whole body aches from stress tensing my muscles up. My tits are plagued with acne marks right now like really bad sores. Funny as soon as the butt ones are under control now these pop up 🙃. My unibrow is going crazy but I'm afraid to cut my forehead shaving it. I also have a wack diet rn yesterday I basically forgot to eat and today I had a burrito the size of my head and too much take out still bc I'm tired of cleaning the kitchen. I wish this stupid fucker would realize what a POS he's being and leave me tf alone 😒 really fucked up and exhausting to think about. The sleep and dehydration thing are really the worst simply compounding every other problem. Also it's over for today, but being on my period for two weeks really took a toll on my body and stressed me out and now I'm just behind on chores and grocery shopping and things like that because I've had no energy from being anemic and my hormones have been driving me up the wall. Also we all know I hate showering on my period soooo yeah don't really have to explain that further 🫠🥲 my hair is greasy AF and my scalp is itchy. Don't get me started on the financial mess that is May. Mf FAFSA would be messed up the year I need it most 🫠 that's not so bad though just more hoops to jump through that are just hella unnecessary. I really needed to write all this down and get it out of my brain. Tbh I didn't realize how much shit was actually bothering me, I was totally gaslighting myself into thinking I was being a little bitch. There's like a whole dissertation of shit that's bothering me, no wonder I feel so burnt out and run over. I'm fucking drained. I always like to look on the positive side of life but sometimes it's like work to push all this crap aside just for peace of mind. Just boxing this shit up for later (right now when I can't sleep because anxiety). I almost don't want to write a pros list now because it feels so fake lmao. 😂

Pros: This was one of the best weeks I've had in terms of school grades! Hard work pays off. The basics, food, shelter, safety, transportation, have all been accounted for god bless. I have my two good cats. I have a family that loves me. I'm no longer in an abusive gaslighting relationship ❤️ I'm going to the movies tomorrow! Three weeks of school left! (That's actually fucking crazy what??) I am really proud of myself. I'm really glad I don't have to take that remediation exam next Friday! I would throw up. Also I don't have to remediate the OSCE on Monday and I can enjoy the solar eclipse lol. The weekend two weeks from now is going to be crazy fun I just realized ❤️ So much to look forward to, so much to still do is really the vibe.

Tbh I feel so numb it's really hard to make this pros list. And my head really hurts. I love you Jamie keep going. ❤️

11:55pm: I took two aspirin and two Benadryl wish me luck 🫡😴

[arvandus]

Congratulations on the big 500 ^-^ I'm so happy for you! Could I get a fluffy #24 with Dabi, pretty please? 🥺👉👈

I’m finally getting to thissss! I’m so, so sorry for the delay. For some reason I struggled with this one for a while, then suddenly something clicked, and inspiration took over. I really enjoyed writing this, it felt very cathartic. It might feel a little heavy/emotional at first but trust me when I say that it ends with fluff.

#24: You're The Only Thing That Matters

Pairing: Dabi x GN!Reader

Word count: 1825

Warnings: light angst(?), fluff

---------

You hadn’t meant for this to happen. Then again, no one ever does. It’s not like anyone ever plans for their apartment to get broken into, their personal items stolen...

Then again, it wasn’t entirely unexpected, not with a neighborhood like this. But it was the neighborhood you could afford. Now here you are, hanging out across the street at the local market, too afraid to return upstairs to your ransacked home. You don’t have a car to drive yourself to a motel to stay the night, you don’t trust nighttime public transportation, and you don’t have enough money for an Uber. But you have to go somewhere. So, you take your phone and called the first person that comes to mind...

Dabi.

You can’t help but laugh that his number is the first one you think to dial. From the surface it makes sense – you two have been seeing each other, so of course he should be someone you can trust enough reach out to. But this is Dabi. Even with your intimate relationship with each other, he is often distant and, more often than not, entirely unavailable. It doesn’t surprise you too much... he’s a villain, after all, and sometimes that villain life requires him to disappear for periods at a time.

Which is why you are honestly surprised when he picks up.

“What?” he says gruffly, like he doesn’t have your number saved in his phone; he knows it’s you on the other end.

You bite your lip before answering. “Um, hey, Dabi. It’s me.”

Already you’re struggling to keep your voice from quivering with unshed tears. If you let yourself cry now, you wouldn’t be able to stop, and this really isn’t the place for it. You watch as an old man pushes a cart past you at a snail’s pace, his gnarled fingers grabbing a bag of rice from the shelf.

Dabi must have heard the emotion in your tone though, because his next words come out slightly softer. “Hey, doll. What’s up? Ain’t it a little late for a phone call?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry, I just...” you take a steady breath through your nose in an attempt to ease your jitters. “My place got robbed, and... I need a place to stay for tonight.”

You hear voices in the background, and Dabi growls at them to ‘shut the hell up.’

“I’m sorry,” you say quickly. “Am I bothering you? I didn’t realize you were working...”

“It’s fine, doll.” Dabi replies. “Yeah, you can crash here.”

More arguing. But a moment later, you hear the click of a door being closed and the background noise disappears.

“I’m headin’ over.” Dabi’s voice comes through clearer than before now that there are no other voices coming through the receiver. His deep tone makes your pulse slow down to a manageable pace, and you take a deep sigh a relief. “Where are you?” he asks.

“I’m at the grocery store across the street.” You reply.

“Stay there.” His words are an order, his voice unusually firm. Is that... concern you hear?

“They close in fifteen minutes.” You say nervously.

“I’ll be there in ten.”

You hear the click and the call ends, and you really wish it didn’t. Then again, there was no telling where Dabi was, or what he was in the middle of when you had called.

The minutes tick by slowly as you wait, each minute dragging on longer than the last until you’re certain that you’re in hell, watching time slow to an endless crawl. The ten-minute mark comes and goes, and Dabi is nowhere to be found, and now you’re struggling to keep the panic down. What if he doesn’t come?

But just as the dreaded thought enters your mind, he’s there, appearing next to your shoulder like an apparition, a dark angel disguised in a black hoodie, his mouth covered. You nearly jump out of your skin when he puts an arm around you before you quickly realize it’s him, your protector.

Already you can feel the tears brimming in your lashes, but his words quickly interrupt the flow like a stopper.

“C’mon, doll.” He whispers in your ear. “None of that now.”

He guides you out of the store into the dark night and you stare across the street at your apartment complex. The building is tall and old, looming over you like a bad dream as visions of your ruined home flash in your mind.

“D’ya need to grab anything from your place?” he asks. You shake your head. You don’t want to go in there, even with Dabi present.

“Didja lock the door?” he asks again, and you shake your head again.

“Whoever it was broke it.” You reply. “Please, I just want to go...”

He stares at you for a moment, his blue half-lidded eyes reading the look on your face before he looks away.

“Well, c’mon then.” He says. He guides you to the subway. Once you get on the train, you sit next to him and rest your head on his shoulder as the empty train car sways and bumps on the tracks. You can feel the fear begin to fade away with each passing of the flashing lights through the dirty windows, graffiti carved into their acrylic surface. You interlace your fingers in his, and for once he doesn’t fight it, doesn’t recoil his hand to the safety of his pockets.

The ride is silent and so is the walk to his hideout. He leads you in through the rickety door with the dented doorknob where a ragtag group of people lounge on dirty couches. Your body stiffens instantly, your hand tightening around his as if doing so would fill you with courage you didn’t have.

A man with white hair with the slightest tint of blue-grey glared at you with red eyes. “I thought we agreed on no outsiders?” his voice comes through with a growl, carried on a sneer past scarred lips.

“Shut up.” Dabi snaps at him as he leads you past the group to another door that leads to a hallway.

A couple doors down and he pulls you into what you can only assume is his room – after all, it’s your first time being here; Dabi had never let you visit him before.

“It’s not much, but it’s safe.” Dabi comments as he closes the door behind you.

The bed is messy, the mattress old. You don’t care though. The space smells of Dabi, and as soon as your brain registers that you’re no longer in danger, you buckle down onto his bed and begin to cry with your face in your hands as the aftermath of emotions overflows into your palms.

Dabi removes his hoodie and kneels before you. He watches you in silence, the glaze of his eyes never betraying the emotions tucked away in secrecy. He hates seeing you like this, hates watching you fall apart in front of him. It makes him feel useless. Cautiously, he reaches out and takes your hand from your face, holding your fingers in his warm palm. He can feel the wetness of your tears on them, and he fights the urge to increase his body temperature, to evaporate the evidence of your pain from his skin. Your eyes catch his, red and puffy, and before he can react you throw your arms around his neck and fall into his lap. He catches you – how could he not? – and holds you to him as you empty your emotions into his shoulder.

When the well of your tears has finally dried, you wipe your eyes with the heel of your hand and pull away from him slightly. Dabi can see the exhaustion falling over you in real time, your shoulders slumping and your hold on him loosening into a relaxed grip.

“I’m sorry, I... I just... it’s been a really bad day.” You say, your eyes downcast.

Dabi can’t help but give a dry chuckle as he helps you up to your feet. “Yeah, no shit.”

He sits on the bed and pulls you with him until you’re both lying down on his messy sheets, with you curled into his side.

“Thank you for coming to get me...” you whisper as you rest your cheek against his chest.

“Did you think I wouldn’t?” he teases, but his smile falters when your breath hitches and you don’t answer.

It cuts him deeper than he expects, but at the same time he’s not surprised... he hasn’t exactly been the best boyfriend – is that even what he is? Is that what he’s been to you? It wasn’t like you two ever discussed it; you two just... were. He’s given you so little...

Dabi swallows before he continues, his voice quieter this time, quieter than he’s ever been with you before. “I’m just glad you’re not hurt.” The confession feels weird on his tongue, like a foreign language, but he pushes forward, determined to say what he should have told you sooner. His voice drops even lower to a barely audible whisper. “I’ll always come for you.”

Despite the hush of his words, they feel like a shout. The admission leaves him feeling embarrassed and vulnerable, and a part of him wishes he could take them back, simply because of what they mean. But they don’t come without their own reward - you relax at his words, your body molding against his as your arms tighten around him. It’s the first time he’s been so open with you and the nervousness in his veins gives way to a light euphoria at your acceptance. His arm tightens around you as if he’s afraid you’ll melt away, as if his touch is the only thing keeping you real, his perfect dream come to life. Within minutes, your breaths become deep and even, and Dabi realizes that you’ve fallen asleep on him, your body giving way to its exhaustion after all that had happened. He stares down at you for a long, quiet moment, watching you sleep on him.

Dabi had never put anyone else first before, not even you despite your closeness. But when he answered your call and heard the fear in your voice, it was as if the ground had been pulled out from under him, his entire world thrown into chaos. If anything had happened to you... If you’d gotten hurt in any way...

His grip on you tightens a little more and he brushes his lips against your hair. Maybe it’s the bravery he’s feeling at your acceptance of him. Or maybe it’s the fear of what could have been. But his next words come out in a hushed whisper, a secret confession meant more for himself than you.

“You’re the only thing that matters.”

And even though you’re supposed to be asleep, your soft words hum into his chest, burying themselves like sunflower seeds.

“I love you too.”

#Arv's 500 Followers Event #Dabi #dabi x reader #soft dabi #dabi x gn!reader

[bansheeoftheforest]

Hey lol, my power just went out and I'm having a moment, do you have any headcanons abt Hyde or Jekyll and his family dealing with storms and outages? Especially if outages and storms are stressful for them? -💙

:o I hope you are okay blue!!!! Storms and outages are scary af sometimes, please stay safe!!

I just woke up after having slept like. 10 hours but I tried my best, if you want more I'd be happy to give you some more hcs, though!

Henry has always been scared of storms and lightning, they had a lot of those growing up and Henry always heard his older siblings talking about the horror stories surrounding storms; campfire ghost stories, as well as the destruction that the storms brought to their city or the people around them. Henry was a very timid and easily intimidated kid so storms came high up on his list of fears.

He only "stopped" being so scared of lightning because of the Frankenstein plays, where the reanimation of the Creature was depicted as having used pure lightning from storms. Henry began to love the concept of lightning out of the context of storms but is still incredibly scared of them both.

Hyde will always deny being scared of storms, most of the time he claims he was brought forth upon the earth of mankind by Satan himself during the century's worst storm. The moment he hears lightning he will quiver in his boots. He is better at hiding it than Henry, though, as Hyde often is good at hiding his fears.

They didn't have to worry about power outages as electricity wasn't commercially available when Henry grew up, so most of the time they just waited out the storms. Most of the waiting out involved Mama and Papa Jekyll gathering all their kids in the living room, putting on the fire in the fireplace, and telling stories to distract them. While Henry was the only one downright afraid of the storms, his siblings also got nervous and needed some distraction too, even if they quickly began to look forward to the storms so they could spend some family time together.

Henry often spent those stormy days in the lap of one of his older brothers. Being 8 years older than him, the two twins were always incredibly protective of him and especially when bby Henry was quivering and sniffling. His sisters were, too, incredibly protective of him and always wanted to help comfort him-- whenever Angus and Ian weren't available, Blair and Lilith would have him smushed between them and they would try to distract him from the thunder by tickling or play fighting with him.

Once Henry got older and began to get into Frankenstein, his family's key phrase to distract him from his panic was to say "Remember Frankenstein? It was a stormy night like this that they created the Creature!". Probably not the best phrase, as his parents did not want to encourage him... To do what Frankenstein did, but it was enough for Henry's momentary panic to turn into a short moment of fascination. On good days, Henry would start rambling about science until the storm was over, on the bad days, Henry would start imagining the Creature outside their window and get even more scared.

Whenever their parents would be gone on business trips and storms would start, Henry's siblings were always prepared to make the best of it. Angus and Ian would try to cook food (they are good cooks, they just end up playfighting a lot), Blair and Lilith would distract Henry, while Freyja, Isla, and Peigi would set up the fire in the living room and get blankets. Chicken soup in front of a roaring fire, cuddled up next to his older siblings, and wrapped in his favorite blanket really helped Henry to deal with storms, and lose his fear of them... A little. He was still scared, but he felt a lot safer with them around him.

He has experienced his fair share of storms in England but the worst ones were in university, just because the classrooms didn't isolate the sounds of thunder and the dorms were quite thin-walled. He knew he was safe but the sweeping winds and lightning did nothing to soothe his worries. Luckily, during classes, he often had Lanyon right by him, and during the evenings he often had both Lanyon and Utterson. In the beginning, neither of them knew about Henry's fear of storms but as Lanyon observed how Henry's pen jumped over the paper for every hit of thunder, the way he trembled, and the way he started to cold sweat, it did not take long for him to scoot closer by their shared desk and put his knee against Henry's in hope of calming him. Storms during the evenings in their dorms were better because neither Utterson nor Lanyon was afraid of giving the physical affection that Henry needed. Lots of cuddles and lots of hugging. Neither were really scared of storms themselves-- Lanyon found them indifferent and Utterson found them fascinating, but neither wanted to see their friend hurting like that.

The Society is large and thickly walled enough for storms to almost be unnoticeable, however, the outages really are not. While most of the Lodgers found it as a mild inconvenience (or a large inconvenience for Tweedy, Pennebrygg, and Flowers), the realization that the storms could bring out their power for days really was not a realization that Henry liked, just because it made him feel so hopeless and defenseless.

A particularly bad storm brought their electricity out for, well, days, quite a lot of time before Frankenstein even stepped a foot into the Society. The Lodgers gathered each other (and Henry) into a parlor, lit candles & the fireplace, and decided to tell ghost stories. Henry tried his best to keep calm as the storm got worse and worse and the thunder and lightning, too, got worse and worse, yet the two Lodgers next to him quickly noticed his stress and nervosity. Quietly scooting closer and trying to distract him. After all, they were much friendlier with each other back then, so it could have been any lodgers.

Whenever Henry, god forbid, is alone during storms, he does his best to replicate the coping mechanisms his family gave him as a kid. Cuddling up in thick blankets and trying to block out the noise, trying to distract himself, or going to someone he trusts in hopes of comfort. Luckily, most of the time it works, even when he isn't sure of which persons he can trust. He has a reputation after all... But the storms sure as hell scare him enough that he does not give a shit about it.

Maijabi is one of the persons that Henry trusts the most, simply because he knows he won't judge him for his fears. Most of the time during storms, Henry scurries off to him for safety. Maijabi, of course, understands his fear perfectly. He lets Henry stay with him for as long as he wants to, and he brews honey and lavender tea for him as well <3

Hyde is not often allowed out during storms-- both because Henry is way too stressed to let him out and because Hyde is way too scared to actually go outside during them. In the few instances where he has found himself in control of the body during a storm, he spends the entire evening seated on one of Rachel's counters in the kitchen while Rachel herself bakes him cookies. Rachel, of course, does not have the heart to start teasing him about being afraid of storms of all things, she is just glad he trusts her enough to... Well... Be in the kitchen with her during storms.

Both Hyde and Henry are sensitive about their fear of storms, they "know" it's irrational and "childish" of them so they are very self-conscious about showing or playing into that fear. Lanyon once made the mistake-- during one of the first storms since Henry and he met-- to joke about Henry's fear for them, which really did not help Henry's self-consciousness about it. Lanyon quickly realized his mistakes and made up for it by comforting Henry a bit extra that evening.

Henry always having people he can trust with his fears and being able to cope with them my beloved <3

#ask #blue heart anon #banshees hc #tgs #the glass scientists #tgs hc #the glass scientists hc

[i-lionheart]

Here for You | Loki x Reader fluff

"There are moments that the words don't reach. There's a grace too powerful to name. We push away what we can never understand; we push away the unimaginable." -Hamilton, "It's Quiet Uptown"

After an emotional night, Loki's partner leaves her Avengers Tower apartment, showing up in need of comfort at Loki's door.

before you read: loki x reader, 1.5k words, reader is afab nonbinary, angst, emotional hurt/comfort, partial nudity (non-sexual), cuddling/spooning, discussion of gender dysphoria, period mention, body dysphoria, discussion of depression, suicidal thoughts, and self harm.

tw: gender dysphoria, period mention, partial nudity (non-sexual), depression mention, suicidal thoughts, self harm mention. @ me if there's anything I forgot.

You padded down the hallway, clutching the stuffed animal and baby blanket that had protected you from your demons since you were a child. Since your apartments were right next to each other, it was only a short distance to Loki's door; when you reached it, you knocked quickly and stood there, anxiously chewing your the inside of your cheek as you waited.

You heard his heavy footsteps crossing the apartment. Though his voice was muffled by the door separating the two of you, the annoyance was unmistakable. "Thor, I told you, I'm-"

He opened the door. His words cut off abruptly as he realized that it wasn't, in fact, his older brother bothering him in the middle of the night. His heart and facial expression melted as he looked you up and down, taking in your disheveled appearance. You stared back at him nervously, unable to verbally express what you needed from him now that he was actually standing in front of you.

Luckily, you didn't have to.

In a heartbeat, Loki had crossed the threshold of his apartment, pulling you into a tight embrace. He pressed your head to his chest and you melted into him, the tears that had escaped you all night finally beginning to flow. "It's all right, darling," he murmured. "It's all right. I'm here now. It's all right."

The two of you stood there for a moment that felt like an eternity, your entire world reduced to the feeling of being in each others' arms, Loki caressing you and whispering soft reassurances. Once the waterfall of your tears had slowed to a mere trickle, Loki said, "All right. You're coming inside." He bent down and hooked one arm under your knees, lifting you into his arms as easily as if you were a child. You squeaked in surprise and buried your head in his chest, eliciting a small chuckle from the trickster god as he carried you into his apartment and eased the door shut behind you. He didn't put you down until the two of you were in his bedroom, when he pulled back the soft covers of his king-size bed and set you gently on the gold satin sheets. He climbed in beside you and pulled the covers up around you both, once again pulling you to his chest.

"You don't have to tell me what's going on," he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "But if you want to talk about it, I'm here to listen."

"It's my stupid period," you grumbled into his chest.

"What?" he said. "I thought you haven't had one for months now - didn't Strange get that sorted?"

"Yeah, but the hormones are still a fucking roller coaster."

"You mortals and your pesky bodies," he muttered into your hair. You couldn't help but giggle, despite your sadness. "What is it doing to you this time, darling?'

"Gender," you grumbled. "I'm fine with my body. I like my body. Or at least, most of the time I do, and then my hormones go insane and I hate it."

"Wishing you were a shapeshifter again, hmm?" Loki said. You nodded. "If I could give up my powers to you I'd do it in a heartbeat, dearest." You chuckled, in spite of yourself. "Thanks, babe."

"No problem," he replied. The two of you lay in comfortable silence for a moment, glad to just be in each other's presence. He caressed you gently - your hair, your arms, your back - then paused in confusion when he felt a seam under your shirt. He had never known you to wear a bra under your pajamas, especially given how much you hated to wear them during the day.

"Darling?" he asked, cautiously.

"Hmm?"

"Are you binding right now?"

"Yeah, but it's fine, I-"

"No, it's not," he cut you off sternly. "You know you're not supposed to. It's unsafe."

"Since when do you care about safety?"

"Since you tried to sleep in a binder. Sit up. It's coming off."

"Loki, really-"

"Now. You could do with some skin to skin anyways." His tone left no room for argument. Grudgingly, you pushed yourself into a sitting position, as did he.

"Arms up," he commanded. You rolled your eyes and did as he said, feeling like a toddler who needed their parents' help to get dressed. He lifted your shirt and gently pulled it over your head, then gathered it into a ball and tossed it on his floor. He removed your binder equally gently, careful not let the elastic snap or pinch, and tossed it on the floor on top of your shirt.

"Satisfied?" you said sarcastically.

"Not quite yet." He grasped the collar of the black t-shirt he was wearing and pulled it over his head in one fluid motion, adding it to the pile of clothing on his floor.

Though you had seen it a thousand times, you took in the sight of his chest, drinking in every inch of his skin. He caught your eye as you stared at him, and grinned. You blushed. "See something you like, pet?" he teased.

"Oh, shut up," you retorted as the two of you laid back down, snuggling into him again. He was right - the feeling of his skin, his strong arms wrapped around you, was incredibly soothing.

"I needed this," you murmured.

"I know."

A pause.

"I hate this body so much, sometimes. Like, I'm mostly okay with it, even proud of it, and then..."

You trailed off. He stroked your hair, whispering into it. "Take your time, love, it's all right."

You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts, and continued shakily. "It's just... sometimes, I look in the mirror, and I look at my face, and I feel so happy - my reflection matches who I am, I look like myself - and then I see my body and I remember and I just..." You swallowed thickly, fighting back tears. "I just want to die, sometimes. I wish I didn't have to exist and face every day in a body that's not mine, I want to hurt it, scar it, make it bleed. Anything to show that it doesn't belong to me, to make it pay. I hate it. And I know I shouldn't hurt myself, I know I gave that up a long time ago, but that urge never leaves. I hate it, I hate it so much. I know it's not right, but that voice never goes away, it just gets quiet enough to ignore until the next time something triggers it and I have to fight it again. It never stops, Loki. Never." Your tears were flowing freely now. You took a shuddering breath. "I'm just so, so tired of always fighting. I want peace. But I don't think I'll ever have it."

"Oh, pet." he said softly. "How long were you feeling like this before you came to get me?"

"Hours," you admitted, feeling small.

"Oh, darling," he said. You heard the pain in his voice, and knew that what he really meant was I'm sorry.

"It's going to be okay," he said, voice ever so tender, tracing wandering patterns on your skin. "I know it's hard, but you are strong. You are a fighter, and you will make it through this. I promise you. And I will do everything I can to help."

"Really?"

"Really, dearest. You never have to face this alone again. I'm right by your side. In fact, this settles it. You're moving in with me. Tomorrow."

"What?" You pulled away from him, startled, and looked up to see dead seriousness on his face.

"What about it, pet? You practically live here already."

"Loki, the others can barely accept the fact that we're together. We can't move in together. Tony will have a heart attack."

Loki grinned wickedly. "Good."

You slapped his arm playfully, scolding him. "No, it's not good. If Tony had a heart attack, the arc reactor would probably flatten half of Manhattan." He chuckled appreciatively. "Why's it so pressing for me to move in, anyway? Most days you hardly spend a second without me."

He paused, giving you a long, searching look. "Isn't it obvious?

"No." You looked away, avoiding the discomfort of his scrutiny.

"Look at me." You didn't move. He reached out and cupped your face in his large hand, lifting your chin. "Look at me, dearest," he repeated, softer this time. You tore your eyes away from the empty space you had fixed them on and looked at him, afraid of what you'd see. He looked back at you tenderly, eyes full of compassion and the thing you had been most afraid of seeing.

Love. His eyes were full of love.

"You spent an unnecessarily long time tonight fighting this alone, because I wasn't with you. I wasn't there to help you when you needed me." He stroked your cheek with his thumb, voice tight with emotion. "I cannot let that happen again."

"Loki," you breathed. "You care that much?"

"Oh, darling, of course I do," he said. "Of course I do. And I promise that you will never have to face these thoughts alone again."

if you enjoyed this fic, please consider reblogging so this work can find other people who might enjoy it!

#ask to tag #tw/cw - read descrip before reading #loki x reader #loki x you #loki imagine #loki (marvel) #mcu loki #fluff #tw sui mention #tw sh mention #tw depression #tw periods #tw dysphoria #tw gender dysphoria #tw gender confusion #tw nudity #cuddling #spooning

[i-watch-too-many-movies]

5 Favorite First Viewings of July 2021

Quick note: Hi everyone, I'm back, things have honestly been getting better for me, and I'm glad to be on this site full of cinephiles, people that are too horny, and cinephiles that are too horny. I'll be more active on here. But anyway, let's talk about some movies.

Beyond the Valley of the Dolls (1970) (dir. Russ Meyer)

CW: Abortion mention

What a picture. What a gorgeous, sexy, horrifying slice of what Hollywood and star life can do to a bunch of bright-eyed young people looking for success. Also is a critique of how macho nature can ruin friendships and romantic relationships with total ease. I was obsessed with the scene transitions, like Pet pouring pancake mix onto a plate after the abortion scene, or Kelly singing after someone screams before their murder in the opening scene.

Great, campy flick with exceptional music too.

Deep Cover (1992) (dir. Bill Duke)

Laurence Fishburne plays Russell Stevens, a Cincinnati police officer who hopes to do well by the community, to make a difference. He’s traumatized by the death of his substance-abusing father, and wants to make sure that he can help the people of his own town. He goes undercover on assignment as a drug dealer, where his boss orders him to take down the kingpin. Stevens realizes the police’s own failings while on assignment. The racist abuse he takes from Agent Carver, and the realization that the police department is protecting drug kingpins like Gallegos and Barbossa. Giving drugs to Black kids and Latinx kids so there will be less of them. The cops are no different than the drug kingpins looking to make filthy amounts of money.

Fishburne’s performance is excellent, as Stevens feels he has to maintain a stone face so he doesn’t get caught by Jason or Barbossa or any of his cronies, but also he maintains a stone face to try and hide his emotion, his trauma. But when he gets pissed, Fishburne acts it beautifully, as is when he has to deliver a funny quip to counter Jason’s douchebaggery. And the production design, holy fuck, the sets and the lighting.

A perfect neo-noir for the HW Bush years, arguably one of the most timeless commentaries on the era, as well as the police as a whole.

Fast Five (2011) (dir. Justin Lin)

I was torn between including this or Furious 7, but I ultimately went with Fast Five because it felt like an important turning point in the series, it's a great heist film, and it reached the same chaotic highs and genuinely excellent filmmaking that I had been waiting for since 2 Fast and Tokyo Drift.

Fast Five opens where Fast & 4ious left off. Dom is hauled away to prison on a bus. Mia and Brian drive in their high-tech cars and knock the bus over, helping Dom escape. The title drops. Fast Five. It’s such an intense yet short action scene, and dropping the title immediately after it lets the viewer know that this movie is not fucking around. It’s arguably gonna be more intense and insane than the previous one.

And it is. The filmmakers made the decision to use a lot more practical stunt work for the film, and as a result, it leads to, so far, the best action in the entire series, since 2 Fast and Tokyo Drift. It’s not just how it’s shot or edited, it’s the geography of the locations, the rooftop chase echoes the rooftop chase of Jackie Chan’s masterwork Police Story, particularly the way each character bounces from top to top.

And of course, there’s the silliest moment in the movie, the one that matches the intensity and kineticism of a film like 2 Fast, which is driving the Reyes’ bank vault throughout the street, getting chased by corrupt cops.

I know we make fun of Vin Diesel for saying “family” all the time in these films, but there’s a reason we remember him saying all of these impassioned monologues. Because he’s unbelievably sincere, and has so much love in his heart for every single person in the room. Anytime he delivers a speech to any of them, it’s genuinely heartwarming.

This is the film that finally shows La Familia in their best environment, which is working together, in a movie genre that allows them to work together, which is a heist film. And a great one at that.

Last Days (2005) (dir. Gus Van Sant)

CW: Mention of suicide

Several films have been made about legendary rock artist Kurt Cobain, and for good reason. He is one of the most tragic figures in rock and roll. A tortured genius who has written and performed classic song after classic song with his band Nirvana. He was called the voice of a generation, and helped change the face of mainstream alternative rock music as we know it. But with that fame, and all of those expectations came a worsening depression and further drug abuse, and his eventual death. But most of the films about Kurt Cobain ask one question which gets under my skin way too much:

“Who REEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALLY killed Kurt Cobain?”

It was him. He did. And it’s okay, I’m sad too. Thinking that Kurt Cobain was murdered is completely ignoring the depression that he faced. And despite Last Days being more inspired by the death of Cobain rather than actually about it, it feels much more honest than the conspiracy documentaries on his death, wanting to leech off of his dead body.

This is the last installment of Gus Van Sant’s “Death Trilogy”, the previous two installments being Gerry (2001), and Elephant (2003). While I have not seen Gerry, I have seen Elephant though, and love that film for its minimalist, raw nature, and its boldness for not romanticizing the school shooter or the lives they had taken. Last Days falls into that trap once, as I don’t agree with the shot of Blake’s soul climbing up a ladder, that always struck me as cheesy in a film that is anything but.

Last Days is similar to Elephant in terms of the way it is filmed. Its usage of long takes, and still shots of characters doing various things, such as Blake playing his guitar behind a drum set. The way these moments are shot is similar to a Chantal Akerman film, particularly Jeanne Dielman. Where the acts of the mundane are the stars of the film. Blake wanders around an empty house, and the viewer can feel the pain, not just through Michael Pitt’s acting, but from the house itself. Its decay, its paint peeling from the walls, from the soft glow of the lamp that lights his face.

I say this is the most honest film about Kurt Cobain, because, despite the characters technically being fictional (the main character who looks, walks, and acts like Cobain is named Blake), this film focuses on the mental state of a person before they eventually take their own life. They’re still working, still making music, still trying to talk to friends and bandmates, but the depression lingers on. Not once does this film try to make you believe that someone else killed him, because you can see the signs of his own suicide taking place just through the film’s excellent cinematography by Harris Savides, showing his mental state only growing worse through the production design.

And it’s empathetic with him. There’s no judgement for leaving rehab, there’s no finger-wagging at him or the people he was with, there’s just a silent prayer at the end of the film, hoping that he is in a better place than he was.

Sometimes you don’t need to show every event that led you to where you are, all you can show is the moment, which also makes this better than most biopics as well, as it never feels messy or muddled, just showing one moment of Blake/Kurt’s life.

I really loved this film, and I’ll be writing about it in full soon.

The Village (2004) (dir. M. Night Shyamalan)

The Cracked.com/Channel Awesome audience stuck in 2012 will tell you that this was the beginning of the end for Shyamalan. That this was when people stopped taking him seriously, that this was when he became more of a punchline because of his twist endings.

But why?

The Village was released in 2004, deep in the Bush administration, during the early stages of the Iraq War. The leaders of the time were talking about imaginary boogeymen, terrorists that would attack the civilians if they could. Because of 9/11, politicians could get away with these false ideas with the majority of Americans fully believing them. The boogeymen in The Village are “The People We Don’t Speak Of”, monsters attracted by the color red. Yet we find out that they are all costumes made by the Elders of the land, designed to prevent people from going outside the land. They rule by fear disguised as love. They’ve gone through their own traumas through the deaths of their family members, but they’ve decided to completely abandon the lives that they’ve had and have their children living lies.

9/11 impacted American life by teaching citizens to live primarily by fear, to not trust anyone but their own people. And yet, post-9/11, all that increased was not “coming together”, but hate crimes against South Asian people. The rage white Americans had felt led to conservative politicians pushing fear-mongering agendas, and said white Americans blindly accepted. The outside world was progressing, but too many people were fine with living with further conservative politics only regressing American life further and further back, all for the illusion of safety. Meanwhile, the only threats to them were not the brown citizens outside of America they were so afraid of, but the white elders, the white politicians.

The Village explores these fears so eloquently, all while having a terrifying atmosphere, an enchanting score, and brilliant sound design. I enjoyed this movie very much.

Other viewings I enjoyed:

Beavis and Butt-Head Do America (1996) (dir. Mike Judge) (re-watch)

Blow Out (1981) (dir. Brian de Palma) (re-watch)

Clueless (1995) (dir. Amy Heckerling) (re-watch)

Furious 7 (2015) (dir. James Wan)

The Long Goodbye (1973) (dir. Robert Altman)

Lupin III: The First (2019) (dir. Takashi Yamazaki)

Unbreakable (2000) (dir. M. Night Shyamalan) (re-watch)

Velvet Goldmine (1998) (dir. Todd Haynes)

The Visit (2015) (dir. M. Night Shyamalan)

#favorite first watches #these movies are (chef's kiss) #beyond the valley of the dolls #russ meyer #deep cover #bill duke #fast five #justin lin #last days #gus van sant #the village #m night shyamalan

[consumedkings-archive]

WITCHING HOUR, a john seed/deputy fic. chapter twelve: the desire to devour

word count: ~10.3k rating: m warnings: naughty language, .000002 seconds of spiciness (but not really), john goes "we were vibing, right? we had the vibes? right?" for like the entire last half. also mentions of self-harm and elliot's previous trauma. notes: hi friends! i hope you enjoy this chapter! this is going to be the last sort of in-between chapter before we really get into it, and from here it's going to go faaaaast. i had a lot of fun writing it and feeling out these different dynamics. not to mention john being a gigantic fuckhead (but like what is new, lmao). special thank you as always to my wifey and beta reader @starcrier for your impeccable eyeballs, and also to @vasiktomis and @shallow-gravy for lending their eyes as well because i did fuss a bit with this chap. i would be lost without y'all. thank you everyone for your love and support, esp with comments! it really fills my heart so so much to hear back from you, and i am always in the market for friends so do not be afraid to reach out to me <3

She is twenty-five.

She’s twenty-five, and it's her first full day of work. Or, it was; now, she's sitting in the Spread Eagle listening to Pratt talk about everything that's happened while she's been gone, because he'd said, c'mon, let me take you out tonight. He grins a boyish, toothy grin at her—the same kind that's mimicked in the multiple school dance photos her mother covets—and tries to sound nonchalant when he asks how she liked being in the city.

It's hard not to think about how this is the first place she had ever met John Seed, then-Duncan, and how it feels like it's spoiled the whole place for her.

Elliot redirects her attention as best as she can to what it is Pratt is saying. He's fishing for information. They've always been each other's safety net, the person they can fall back on when all else fails. School dances. Picking partners in class. Graduation walking buddies. He'd driven her to the airport when she left for the Academy, even. But even though she knows he's trying to figure out if she's still a safety net, Elliot can't disguise the way thinking about Mason makes her feel—disgusting—so she brings the beer bottle to her mouth and takes a swallow.

The result is her face scrunching up. Pratt laughs.

“Geez, Elli, slow down,” he says, his smile crinkling at the corners of his eyes. “Bet money you're still a lightweight. When'd you start drinking beer, anyway?”

“I didn't,” she manages out around the taste, swallowing thickly. “I just won't let your money go to waste.”

He shrugs, as if to say, could, if you wanted, and swivels on the stool a little. He wants to press again—she can tell—but seems to have the good sense not to, instead busying his mouth with his own beer.

“Mama said Whitehorse let you right on,” Elliot says casually, trying to ignore the twinge of envy in her voice.

Pratt shrugs again. “He's known my dad a long time.”

“Known my mom too,” Elliot replies, dry.

“Yeah, well.” Pratt pauses, and sounds a little smug when he says, “Just because your mama likes me doesn’t mean I don’t know how she is to everyone else.”

“Likes you, does she?”

“Obviously,” the brunette replies confidently. “She still keeps all those photos of us. Remember senior year, she had all of her gal pals over when we were getting ready for prom—”

“Ugh.”

“—took us about 45 minutes before we were exactly where she wanted to take pictures—"

She rolls her eyes. Pratt grins, and then bumps his shoulder against hers. He says, “Aw, c’mon. Not so bad, is it? Having your mom like me?"

Elliot can feel the flush spreading under her cheeks. Not because she's embarrassed, or flustered, but because the beer sitting in her stomach feels rotten, and because Pratt's looking at her with the same kind of eyes he did before—always, always there's the before—and she doesn't know how to say I'm not her anymore, I'm not that girl, I'm different and changed and I don't know how to go back.

It doesn't matter. If Pratt can see it on her face, he doesn't let it show; just pats her shoulder and pretends he doesn't see the way she flinches from his hand swinging into her peripheral, pretends he doesn't notice the way she covers it up by swallowing another mouthful of beer she doesn't want to drink.

“Hudson’s really glad to have you back,” he says after a minute, when she doesn’t confirm nor deny that it’s not so bad knowing her mom thinks he’s a fine enough person. “Been talking about it nonstop.”

A smile creeps its way onto her face. “I’m glad to be back. With her, especially.”

“Yeah, you two always been thick, huh?”

She nods, swallows more beer, and Pratt rolls his eyes and snags the bottle out of her hand.

“Don’t keep drinking if you don’t like it,” he tells her, and then finishes it off himself, setting the empty bottle on the countertop with a grimace. “Can’t have people telling Whitehorse I bullied the probie into drinking.”

“‘Probie’,” she scoffs. “I could kick your ass.”

“Bullshit!”

“Could’ve done it before, Pratt.”

“Now that is lies and slander.”

Elliot only grins at him, the only time since coming back sans Joey getting her from the airport that it’s been a genuine thing; lopsided and a little sloppy but a grin nonetheless. Pratt finishes his own beer now, coughing a little into his fist before he blurts out, “I’m glad, too.”

She blinks. “Huh?”

“That you’re back,” Pratt clarifies. “Y’know—nice to have my friend back. Didn’t like sendin’ you off to the big city, anyway.”

He doesn’t know. He can’t know, because her mother won’t talk about it and Joey would never divulge what it was that had brought about her speedy return—but even though he doesn’t know about the way she has to swallow back a flinch every time he waves his hand in her peripheral, or the way the smell of beer on a man’s breath makes her stomach clench with anxiety, or how her hands are so fucking cold all the time because her heart hammers in her chest, the way he says that (Didn’t like sendin’ you off to the big city, anyway) feels a little like vindication.

“S’okay,” she murmurs, nudging his shoulder with hers. “Came back in one piece, didn’t I?”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The scent of roses wafted over her in waves. The sound of bathwater murmuring against the sides of the porcelain tub rippled each time she moved, each time she used the grip of her hands against the lip of the sides to sink herself under; her knuckles went cold with the ferocious grip, but when she went under she was submerged in quiet once more. Blissful, serene, quiet; just what she wanted.

Elliot pulled herself out of the water. Downstairs, she could hear her mother’s voice, spiking frantic even through the floors and the two closed doors that kept her separated.

“...years, Mr. Seed, I have lost years of my life agonizing over what she did to herself...”

She dipped below the water, closing her eyes. No sound; no shrill noise; just the heavy, bloated static that existed underneath the surface of the bath. Only her and the baby.

It occurred to her, absently, that she needed to start picking out names for the baby. Now that they had a guess at what the gender was, they’d have to decide about a name; not only a first, but a middle, too—the last name—

“...find it quite intriguing, actually, that the second she comes back to me after being involved with your kind that she’s got all this—this—”

Oh, don’t say it, Elliot thought tiredly, closing her eyes.

“—tear, just wretched wear and tear, Mr. Seed, don’t you? Don’t you find that intriguing?”

John was sitting down there, enduring a thorough verbal lashing, and she hadn’t even asked him to. She’d said, I don’t care if she thinks it was me, and he’d guided her upstairs and cupped her face and kissed her, long and open-mouthed, and swept his thumb over her cheek. Now, Elliot could hear the sound of his voice—calmer, empathetic, like just knowing that her mother was hysterical was giving him some kind of control over himself—but that he was speaking in a normal tone meant that his words didn’t come through quite so clearly.

She heard the sound of her mother saying, “I suppose you’re going to tell me why you’re not bothered in the least?” just before she dipped under the water again.

What was she going to name the baby? Did she even have an idea of what kinds of names she liked? Exhaustion pulled at the edges of her attention; she thought, I’m too tired to come up with a baby name, and gripped the edges of the bathtub harder. More fierce, more firm; grip and pull, maybe spill the entire bathtub over, tilt the clawed feet until it hit the tiled floor and the porcelain broke and the rose-scent water flooded the bathroom, her room, the hallway.

Then they’d have to leave. Then they couldn’t stay, surely, in a house flooded with rose water.

Fingers brushed over hers where they’d gone white at the edges of the tub. She pulled herself out of the water to find John sitting there, knelt at the side of the tub—not unlike the way he’d sat back at her mother’s house in Hope County, when she’d drank too much in the bathtub and said that he could mark her.

Because that’s what it had been. As much as she had wanted it, as much as she had enjoyed it, no matter what John said—he had been marking her as his. Like that Oscar Wilde poem.

The same sin binds us.

Elliot brushed the water from her eyes and settled her head back against the tub, regarding him. He looked less bothered than she thought he would, having sat through her mother’s grilling and interrogation—though he did look like he wanted to say something, like maybe it was sitting, burning into ash in his mouth, the way she could see the flex of his jaw and the way his free hand clenched and loosened.

Ignoring the nagging feeling that he wanted to ask her what she’d been doing under the water, and the even more bothersome knowledge that she had, at some point, become painfully aware of his body language, Elliot said, “We have to think of a name.”

John blinked at her. Less than an hour ago, he’d been saying Of course I’d come for you, I love you, with or without the baby I love you, and she’d been sobbing into his arms and clinging to him.

He said, “And a middle name.”

“I’m trying not to think about it.”

A smile finally ticked the corner of his mouth, his fingers uncurling hers from the edge of the tub. Reluctantly, she let him.

“Your mother’s upset.” He paused. “She still wants you to play nice for her Christmas party, but she’s upset.”

“I know,” she replied sullenly. The despair of her shame, which had at once both overwhelmed her and hollowed her out, had dissipated in the wake of her indignation. What would she know, that vicious thing inside of her said, replaying the way her mother’s expression had crumpled. What would she know of our suffering? What would she know of our pain? ‘Wretched wear and tear’, like we haven’t been torn up for ages, like she didn’t throw us to the wolves and scoff in disgust when we came back bloodied and battered.

She wanted to be angry, really angry, but like most things that had to do with her mother, Elliot found herself more exhausted than anything. Scarlet had always found it impossible to comprehend the scars she’d given herself, had always claimed to feel disconnected to the ways Elliot had searched out meaning and comfort.

Absently, Elliot wet her lips and let her gaze flicker up to where John had perched himself beside the tub. He looked mighty pleased with himself, having finally gotten his words out. I love you, he’d said, palm flat against her window, I love you, with or without the baby.

And John, I want a home with you.

And John, Marriage is hard work, but I know you’re just the woman for the job.

And John, No way baby, I’m fucking it for you.

Blood rushed through her head, thunderous. John was saying something to her, but the words felt distant, and far away, and everything felt like it was underwater when she moved—not just the parts of her submerged in the bath, but all of it, the air too-thick and dragging on her skin and pulling her down slow as molasses. She blinked a few times as she disentangled their hands and reached for the towel, but John pulled it off of the hook first.

She watched him. She watched his mouth move, and his brows pull and furrow together at the center of his forehead, and the way his breath rose and fell in his chest, pushing and pulling the Sloth scar scratched across his sternum. Just like me, dream John had said, gripping her blood-covered hands, you’re just like me.

His voice, muffled and bogged down by the blood rushing through her ears, quirked up at the end. Elliot’s eyes darted back to his, and she asked, “Sorry, what?”

“The water’s cold,” he replied, waving the towel a bit. “Aren’t you getting out?”

“Yeah,” Elliot murmured. She felt hollow. Her fingers itched. She wanted—

John caught her hand as she stepped out of the bathtub, steadying her while her free hand gathered the towel up against her front. Goosebumps prickled across her skin, the lukewarm temperature of the bath still lingering; his fingers interlaced with hers, and she used it to steady herself.

He was close. They were close. A part of her resented it—that she let him be so close to her, that she let him kiss her and fuck her but mostly that she let him hold her when she cried, miserably, that she wanted to go home. Because after everything, after all of it, Hope County still felt—

She closed her eyes. Of course it still felt like home. Joey was there; now she knew Pratt was, too.

And among all of that, if she waded through the weeds spreading in her mind, if she hacked and cut them away, there was John.

“What are you thinking about?” John murmured, his cologne washing over her, their noses brushing. Her eyes fluttered open and she let out a little breath, that wanton little creature in her head chanting it over and over. There’s John, there’s always been John, nobody will love us with this much red in our ledger. No one but him.

“You,” she managed. Her head felt swimmy, the words coming out of her mouth sounding like a stranger’s—thick with want. John’s eyes flickered up to hers, having fixed on her mouth.

“If you want something, Ell,” he rumbled, the pressure of his fingertips against the back of her neck guiding her forward just a little but not all the way, “you only—”

Elliot leaned forward and kissed him, her hand lifting so that she could curl her fingers into his hair, the towel slipping to the floor. His body had tensed, like he wasn’t expecting it—like he was waiting for something else—and she thought about the way he’d kissed her with Kian’s blood in her mouth, the way he’d been just rampant with desire, the way the way the way—

Her teeth caught his lower lip, a little sharper than she’d intended, and his hand gripping her wrist tightened and he moaned, and she felt that same little thrill as before surge through her. It’s my magic, too, the itch in her fingers subsiding when she dug her nails in and pulled his hair a little, parting her lips against his; John leaned into her, crowding her up against the counter in front of the mirror, the hand at the nape of her neck threading into damp hair.

“Ell,” he said against her mouth, his voice rougher than before and hands planted on the counter on either side of her, “what are you doing?”

She murmured, “Stop talking,” and kissed him again, fingers clumsily working through the buttons on his shirt—her voice came out even but everything else about her felt wobbly, unsteady, craving craving craving the way it felt to have him begging her. Anything, to feel in control. Anything, to feel whole. Dig, and dig, and when you hit the bottom you keep digging some more, right?

What do we do with grief, right?

Burn and erase the image of her mother’s disgust and horror at seeing a part of her she might actually like, scrape it from her mind, dig her trenches deep deep deep and hunker down where she could feel safe, where she could feel strong; soon she would be home and—

And John’s teeth snagged her lower lip in retribution, sparking violent and red-hot behind her eyes with pleasure lighting her neurons on fire.

“Off,” she ground out against his mouth, pushing helplessly at the shirt she’d only halfway unbuttoned. The brunette grinned; his hands resumed her work, and she instead devoted her attention to the belt at his waist, yanking at it as John’s face dropped to her neck, hot breath fanning across her skin teeth dragging against her pulse point to pull a moan out of her.

There was a split second between John discarding his shirt on the floor and gripping her hips to lift her onto the countertop, his mouth seeking hers out again as she wound her arms around his neck. She had never been completely naked and felt not vulnerable at all, felt more in control—but she did, now, when she grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled and he moaned her name, a little frantic, Ell, Ell, hellcat, he said into their kiss, let me let me, greedy and wanting as he glided fingers up along the inside of her thigh.

He tensed, like he was going to drop to his knees, and she kept her hand in his hair and said, “Don’t.”

“Hm,” is what he replied, “pulling on my hair, ordering me to take my clothes off—”

“I’m about to tell you to shut up again.”

“—but won’t let me eat you out?” John grinned against her mouth, the scent of his cologne—expensive, stupid shit, but it never failed to feel like it was overwhelming her senses—washing over her. “What is it, baby? Want me to say please?”

Yes, something wicked inside of her said, John’s eyes lifting from her mouth to hers, narrowing playfully. Yes, I’d like that, I’d like to hear you say it like that.

“I know you,” he purred. He dug his nails into her hips, a sound—the wanting kind—trying to crawl its way up her throat. “Know exactly what you want from me. Yeah? So, Ell, won’t you please—”

There was a sharp knock at the door, a pause, and then: “Elliot?”

A near-silent laugh billowed out of John, stifled into her neck when her mother’s voice came through the door. Elliot’s eyes fluttered; her fingers, knotted in John’s hair, loosened and smoothed down the back of his neck, the intoxicating tension relaxing just a little. Heat had coiled in the hollow of her chest, spreading warm fingers at the same leisurely pace that John’s hand drifted up to her hip, his mouth finding the hollow of her jaw.

“I can’t believe her,” she muttered. “Yes?”

“Miss West is here, with her brother.” Scarlet’s voice was tight. “Returning your vehicle.”

Fuck. Elliot sighed, her eyes closing for a second while she tried to gather her thoughts. It was difficult to focus with John’s breath on her neck and his hands on her skin and that fucking cologne—and boy, did she not want to dwell on the fact that he’d shown up with barely anything but somehow also remembered to pack his stupid fucking cologne. But there was a different, special kind of warmth that spread through her when she realized that Sylvia was coming to check on her.

“Hair’s wet,” she called after a moment, “I’ll be down in a minute.”

“Fine.” There was another pause, and then her mother’s voice, scathing even through the door: “Ensure you are put together, Elliot.”

John murmured against her neck, “So no hickeys, then?” and she swatted his shoulder, rolling her eyes and sliding off of the counter. He seemed reluctant to let her disembark, thumb sweeping the slope of her hip before he dropped down—just far enough to plant a kiss on the gentle slope of her tummy. It was—sentimental, unseating her with incredible ease.

And then he ruined it by saying, “Your mommy won’t let me fuck her filthy, but I hear the second trimester throws a woman’s hormones through the roof, so we’ll see how long that lasts,” to her bump as he grabbed the towel from the floor to offer to her.

She snatched it from his hands, wrapping it around herself. “Don’t say that shit to the baby. You think I won’t end your life?”

“I wouldn’t mind,” he offered, head cocked to the side. “Leaving the hickeys, anyway, I mean. Well, and the second part too. About sex. Not the murderous part. Actually, you know I find it—”

Choosing to ignore the latter statement, Elliot narrowed her eyes. “You’d risk Via’s opinion of you dropping so severely?”

“You know what they say.” John spread his hands, almost in a gesture of helplessness; though she knew he was far from it. “Old habits die hard.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“She’s killing all of my angels!”

Faith’s voice was sharp, piercing; Isolde’s fingers fluttered over the bridge of her nose to fend off an impending headache, pen held poised above the notepad where she’d been writing down her thoughts but had paused in time for the girl’s interjection. She couldn’t stand a messy page—ink smears, jarred letters. Unacceptable.

Two hours ago, she’d had Jacob drive her out to where the service was strongest. A flood of emails and texts from her family had been waiting to overload her phone. Her dad, things are looking poorly, where are you?, her sister, I’ve been trying to reach you for days.

“Jacob,” the blonde plunged on, interrupting her train of thought, “you have to do something. They’re being—gutted like fish!”

“You should have locked them down,” Jacob told her. “And you’re not the only one losing things.”

“I put—” Faith cut herself off, clearly taking a moment to compose herself before she pitched her voice low and said, “I put just as much work into them as you do into yours.”

The red head’s voice bloomed with annoyance when he said, “Oh, did you?”

“No fighting, please,” Joseph called from where he sat next to her. His voice was even, elbows rested on his legs and fingers interlaced in thought. “I know this is stressful. But you must keep your faith in God.”

“Santi told me that—whoever she is has been leaving their corpses all around!” Faith’s voice pitched high with distress, now, sweeping around Jacob to come to where they had sat, big doe eyes wide. “We have to do something. Please, Father—I don’t want our people to wonder if they’re going to be next.”

Joseph paused, looking pensive for a moment; Isolde thought he might have been trying to figure out how he wanted to phrase something, but before he could speak, Isolde looked at Jacob and said, “You were going to hunt her down anyway, weren’t you?”

The eldest Seed’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t you start with me too, Sol.”

“Get some fresh air,” she replied curtly, “go for a drive, clear your head. Eliminate a problem. You’ve been wearing a hole in the floors anyway; put that energy into being productive.”

“P—” Jacob’s voice spiked, incredulous. “Excuse me?”

He was agitated. She could tell—Pratt, and the phone call with the deputy in Georgia, and the Hunter on some kind of one-man rampage. But more importantly, Isolde thought, Jacob was agitated because there had not been a single conversation between him and Joseph since their argument.

Well, not even an argument. Just a lashing. A public one.

Isolde scooted her chair back from the table that had been set up at the front of the chapel, setting her pen down and stepping away. Her hand landed on the crook of Jacob’s elbow as she passed, and though he made a noise that implied disdain, he followed—not without shrugging her hand off by the time they got to the front doors of the chapel, leaving the other two to talk in low, murmured voices.

“You have got to stop letting this get to you,” she hissed.

“Nothing is ‘getting’—”

“Listen to me,” Isolde interjected. “I’ve been keeping as close an eye on the news as I have been on you. Things are—” She paused, mouth twisting around the words. “There is no room for you lot to be bloody fighting with each other. Do you understand me? This has moved far past needing to prepare PR and build a legal defense.”

Jacob’s eyes narrowed. He looked suspicious. “So why are you still here then, Sol?” he asked.

The words burned insult in her chest. Why are you still here, stinging fresh and hot, because it was a fair question. It was the most fair question. Unlike any of these people, she had a family outside that she still loved. Her sister, and her parents. She should have told John and all of the Seeds to go fuck themselves, to enjoy the end of the world, while she went to be with her family.

But she wasn’t. She was here. Doing—this. Finding fresh new ways for Joseph to connect with his people to keep their morale high, keeping the infighting at bay to make sure they looked like a united front to everyone, second doomsday cult included.

“My parents will take care of Avery. You know they’re close with—government,” she replied after a minute, shaking off the unease. “And I told John that I would.”

He snorted. “John says jump, you ask how high?”

“No,” she bit out, “I say jump and you kiss the fucking ground I’m standing on because I cobbled together what the fuck is left of your congregation.” Before Jacob could say anything, Isolde added, “My hands are full, Jake. Do not add to my pile.”

Dark brows furrowed, his mouth thinning in disdain. He clearly wanted to say something. But true to his nature, Jacob straightened back and settled himself before he said, “Fine.”

“Fine?”

“Fine,” he reiterated with his eyes narrowed. “I’m going to the Veteran’s Center.”

“That doesn’t sound like where we heard about the killings happening last,” Isolde protested, eyes narrowing.

“But she was there,” he replied. “Or someone was. Someone was there enough to steal my files.”

“Your—” Isolde snapped her mouth shut, sucking her teeth as she glanced back at Joseph and Faith; haloed in the dim lighting of the chapel, she could see them looking back at Jacob and herself expectantly. She wondered how much they could hear, from there.

Turning her attention back to Jacob and pitching her voice down in volume, Isolde hissed, “I don’t think prioritizing files is the best move right now.”

“Thank you,” Jacob idled, “for your input.”

“Fuck you.”

“Have fun,” he added, opening the door and letting in a waft of biting, cold air, before gesturing to the Book of Joseph on the table that she’d had her nose stuck in. All the better to make Joseph’s sermons hit home harder, after all. “You know—with your light reading.”

Isolde narrowed her eyes, watching him trudge down the steps for just a second before she said, “Jacob—”

“Yes, Isolde?”

Her mouth pressed into a thin line. “Don’t get shot.”

For a moment, he looked almost surprised at her words—but it was only a moment before he said, “Don’t worry, I’m taking Vidal. He makes a suitable meatshield.”

“God, he’s a talker.”

A tiny ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of Jacob’s lips, before he said, “John and the deputy should be making their way here any day now.”

Isolde grimaced. “I was there for the phone call.”

“Are you going to leave?” Jacob pressed, expression stiffening again. “When he does?”

She paused, clearing her throat and shifting on her feet. I should, were the words that wanted to come out of her mouth. I should go. I only came down here because John wasn’t here. I should go, and get back to my life, and maybe get to my family and try to stay out of the crossfire and—

After a heartbeat, she said, “I don’t know.”

Jacob shrugged, as if to say, see? Told you, though to what he could be referring to, she had no idea; she only knew that she didn’t like the way he swung around and sauntered out of the chapel, leaving her alone in the tepid warmth with Joseph and Faith’s eyes on her in favor of the blistering cold outside. Snow had continued to dump throughout the day and night, and had only just let up recently; the members of Eden’s Gate—those who had survived the Family’s relentless assaults, and those that had been pulled from the bunkers—had been tirelessly shoving pathways, only to have their work tidily undone each night.

Fingers brushed the palm of her hand. Isolde startled; she glanced back just as fingers interlaced with hers to be met with sweet, bright eyes and Faith’s adoring attention planted on her.

“It means so much to me,” Faith murmured, “that you would help. Not just me, but all of us.”

Soli watched the blonde for a moment, trying to gauge. The physical closeness was not something she was accustomed to; carefully, she disentangled their fingers, skin prickling with unease. When she glanced up, Joseph’s eyes were on them, on Faith’s fingers falling from her hand but skimming the inside of her palm in a lingering touch of affection.

He was always doing that. Watching. Watching, and waiting, and pinning each movement and gesture and thought and word out perfectly like the wings of a butterfly, just the color he liked and just the shape.

“Don’t thank me,” Isolde replied, mustering a smile and brushing the hair from her face.

“It’s my job.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Hey, Miss Honey, John!”

Wyatt’s cheerful voice broke through the late-afternoon chill; the sun setting early, people’s breath coming out in puffs of smoke. It all felt oddly normal, given the circumstances of the morning and the way she’d forgotten to call Sylvia once she got home, and that her friend had fished up a reason to come by the house and make sure she hadn’t—

Well.

Still, if there was any remnant of the morning in Sylvia’s heart, it didn’t show in her face, and it certainly didn’t show in Wyatt’s. Instead, both blondes beamed at her, radiant, the second she came out with fuzzy, fresh-from-the-blow-dryer hair and swaddled up to her chin in thick fabrics to fend off the cold.

And, truthfully, to hide the bump. John had reminded her of it, and even though the moment had been a...good one, it had also reminded her she hadn’t expressed this truth to Sylvia or Wyatt. As John closed the door behind her and jogged down the steps,

“Howdy,” Ell greeted, albeit a bit awkwardly thanks to her stuck-somewhere-nowhere-sort-of-accent. “You didn’t have to drive it back all the way out here, you know.”

“Sure we did.” Wyatt chirped. “Wouldn’t be very neighborly of us if we let it sit and the battery died out, now would it?”

“No,” John demurred after a moment even as Elliot’s cheeks went warm, “I suppose not.”

“You all recovered from this morning?” Via asked cheerfully, purposefully avoiding the actual question. Elliot shifted on her feet. John’s hand skimmed the small of her back, and even through the layers of fabric, it felt warm; she wondered if this was what it would have been like for them, had their life been normal. Had John been truthful with her from the get-go. Now, with everything laid out between them—the lies unearthed and only the brutal, unapologetic knowledge that they wanted each other, in one way or another—it felt like they might have been normal. Sometime, somewhere, someplace else.

It was still hard to swallow, all of it. The lies and the now-truths and the knowledge that she did, in fact, want.

“Oh, yeah,” Ell replied faintly. “Took a bath and...” She tried for a smile. “Decompressed.”

“That what smells so good?”

“Y’all get that tired from dress shoppin’?” Wyatt tsked, having pulled his coat out of the jeep and started to pull it on. He grinned at her and skillfully dodged a side-swipe from Sylvia; he had a good foot of height on her—and Elliot—so it wasn’t difficult. The siblings fussed for only a moment before Sylvia managed to fetch the Jeep’s keys from Wyatt’s coat pocket and held them out to Elliot, puffing.

She was in the middle of saying, “Your keys, madame,” when John’s head tilted and he muttered, “Now what is this?”, drawing her attention to the end of the drive. A police cruiser made its way slowly down the drive, carefully pulling up behind the Jeep.

Not beside it. Not further up toward the garage, not on the other side of the four of them chatting. Behind it. Blocked in.

Sheriff Pritchard stepped out, shuffling a little as he adjusted the black, fur-trimmed jacket on his shoulders and closed the driver side door. He’d come alone, which made Elliot certain he wasn’t here to arrest her—and what a ludicrous thought, that he might have considered it a possibility, because the mere mental image of Pritchard grabbing her arm and keeping his eyes in his head made a hysterical kind of laugh want to bubble out of her.

Not me, not me and not my baby, that thing inside of her said, lifting its hackles and baring its teeth when Pritchard began to saunter over. Not my baby.

“Afternoon, you two. And Wests,” Pritchard greeted as he drew closer. He’d earned himself a curious murmur from Sylvia. “Havin’ a little shindig out here, Miss Honeysett?” Elliot opened her mouth to respond, but he lifted his hands quickly in defense. “‘M sorry, forgot myself. Mrs. Seed.”

It caught her off-guard, sucked the air right out of her lungs. It was one thing to hear her mother say John is Elliot’s husband, to hear her say John is my son-in-law, but it was another entirely to hear herself referred to as Mrs. Seed. It had never, ever been that she was John’s wife, except out of his own mouth, but now—

John seemed eager to engage with Pritchard, because he said, “Something that you needed, sheriff?”

“Yes, actually. Believe it or not, I ain’t in the business of drivin’ out to the rich part of town just for shits and giggles,” Pritchard replied coolly. “Your mama home, Elli?”

“Probably resting,” Sylvia offered, smiling politely. “We just finished dress shoppin’ for her Christmas Party not but an hour ago.”

“Yeah,” Pritchard rumbled, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. “Heard about your little trip to the boutique today.”

John asked irritably, “Do you need to smoke that right now?”

Elliot swallowed thickly. Her lashes fluttered, eyes desperate to close; the warmth that had flooded her face now felt like it verged on feverish, threatening to make her head swim again. This was bad. This was bad-bad, chop her hair off and run run run again bad, the kind of bad that made a girl change her name and burn her birth certificate and make sure that nobody would ever be able to find her again.

“I don’t,” she began, “think mama’s feeling up to visitors right now.”

Pritchard eyed her, taking a puff of his cigarette while completely glazing over John’s pointed question. “Imagine not. You know, you been a hot topic of conversation lately, Mrs. Seed. Gotten loads of questions about you. Lady from out of town, Federal Marshals. I don’t like folks sniffin’ around my town, you know, especially not the fuckin’ Feds, but it’s gotta make me wonder.” The smoke curled out from his nose, the smoke of a lazy, self-righteous dragon wafting around her.

“Sheriff,” John continued tightly, clearing his throat, “you’re going to need to put that out.”

“We’re outside, Mr. Seed. You ain’t ever seen someone smoke a cigarette outside?”

“Do you make a habit of smoking around pregnant women?” John snapped viciously, and oh, she thought, oh, I didn’t even think of that, because her brain was too busy kicking into overdrive and parse out the absolute confirmation that Federal Marshals were asking after her and strange women, too. Oh, I didn’t even think about the baby.

And then Sylvia said, eyes wide as saucers as she laughed, flustered, “Oh, John, that’s very kind of you, but I’m not—” and her eyes landed on Elliot, and she blinked rapidly.

Wyatt was looking at her, too. Big, big eyes, surely having not only learned that she and John were married but that she was also pregnant in the span of only a few minutes. At least, Elliot didn’t think Sylvia would have divulged that information, and if the shock he was clearly trying to cover up in his expression was any indication, that gut feeling was right.

No, she thought, no, this is not what I wanted. This is not what I wanted at all. It wasn’t his to tell, it wasn’t his to tell, it was mine, my choice, mine alone.

Her gaze snapped to Pritchard. She said, “It’s time for you to leave.”

Pritchard lifted his eyebrows. “That so? Well, good for me I ain’t here to talk to you, missy.”

“Get. Off. My. Property,” she bit out through her teeth. “Scarlet isn’t taking visitors, and I’ll cut the decay out of my own teeth before she makes anything close to the time of day for you.”

Now, his eyes narrowed and the cigarette sat between his fingers, still burning amber at the end. “Excuse me?”

“And tell the fucking Feds whatever you want,” she snapped, fingers curled tightly around the keys until the metal edges dug into the nooks and crannies of her hand. “But whatever you do, get the fuck out of my driveway, sheriff.”

Something flickered in the corner of her vision. John started, “Ell,” and his hand went to her shoulder, but she jerked back from him before he could make much more than a brush of contact.

“Don’t,” Elliot snapped at him, her voice wobbling and the tears—shameful tears—welling up and burning, “touch me.”

“Alright, okay,” Sylvia murmured, “Elliot and I are gonna go inside, and John can—”

“Ain’t here to talk to Mr. Seed,” Pritchard drawled venomously.

“If you’re asking questions about Elliot,” Sylvia replied calmly, taking Elliot’s hand with a firm squeeze, “I can imagine there is no better person to ask than her husband, don’t you think so, Sheriff?”

Pritchard’s eyes were squinted into poisonous little slits, and he took a long drag of his cigarette.

“Mrs. Honeysett won’t be any type of cooperative if you get her up now,” Wyatt chimed in, eyes flickering nervously to Elliot—perhaps both because of the news and because of her outburst. But she didn’t have time to think much about it, because Sylvia was tugging her out of the cluster of folks, ginger and reassuring even as her brother plunged on, “I mean, sheriff, come on—you know how women can be when they’re gotten up too early, let alone they’ve been shoppin’ all day—”

And Pritchard said, “You want I should put my cigarette out now, Mr. Seed?” as Sylvia opened the door,

and John replied with a slick, charismatic kind of venom, “No reason to anymore, smoke to your heart’s content,”

and the door clicked shut behind her and Boomer scampered out from where he’d been snoozing under the dining table.

She had to leave.

She had to go.

She had to get out.

Federal Marshals and strange women asking after her, and now her only two friends in the whole fucking world—

(well, not entirely true, since we still have Pratt, isn’t that right? Isn’t that right, Elli?)

—had just seen her almost go fucking bananas on an officer of the law, had watched her demand he get the fuck out of her driveway for wanting to ask her mother about her, had seen her.

“Hey,” Sylvia said, “you’re alright.”

I’m not, she thought, dropping the keys into the crystal bowl by the door, smearing red against the glass. Her hand stung. She reached with the good, unmarked hand for Boomer absently. His cold, wet nose brushed against it, and he whined, feet tapping against the wood as he bumped her for her attention. I won’t go. I won’t fucking go. I won’t pay the price for what they did to me, what they made me into.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted out abruptly, her voice coming out tight. “Sorry that I didn’t—um, tell you. About the—”

“It’s okay,” Sylvia told her quickly, “it’s alright, Elli, it’s not a big deal. You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

Elli, she said, without knowing what the nickname meant. Elli, Sylvia said, it’s alright, and Joey, right now we need to leave, Elli, and Pratt, geez, Elli, slow down, an affectionate nickname saved only for folks who considered her their friend. Sans Pritchard. Fuck Pritchard.

“Lots of people wait to tell,” Via continued, one hand coming to rest on her shoulder and jarring her out of her thoughts, which were quickly and rapidly devolving back into the urge to march outside and ensure Pritchard was obeying her command. Out out out, something vicious inside of her demanded, we want him out we want him gone.

Elliot said, “Yeah, you’re right,” but she felt far away—not lost, not gone from herself, but thinking. She could pack fast. She could pack fast, and John had brought barely anything, and they could leave right now, her mother none the wiser. They could leave now and be gone and Cameron Burke would have to—

But are we sure it’s Burke? Are we sure it’s Burke and not someone else, come to haul your ass to a fucking psych ward, for what you did in Hope County?

For what you did?

No. She wasn’t sure. She could only hope it was one singular Federal Marshall on her tail, and not an actual piece of the government body. That was all.

But whoever it was that was asking after her—strangers, government officials—it didn’t matter. That old mantra had kicked in again; something has to be done, the same kind of calm before the storm that she’d felt when Joey had been killed, something has to be done.

Something has to be done and I’m going to have to be the one to fucking do it.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Pritchard dropped the cigarette into the snow and stamped it out with his bootheel, his eyes fixed on John. Sylvia had rushed Elliot inside, but he didn’t think that had been purely necessary—only in the instance they had wanted to keep Pritchard out of a blood bath. Elliot hadn’t been checking out, trying to keep herself together; she had been angry, and he’d had half a mind to let her say and do exactly as she pleased to the man now standing in front of him in the cold.

“She always been that volatile, Mr. Seed?” the sheriff asked.

“Not undeservingly,” John replied tartly, his eyes narrowed. “Did you have specific questions, sheriff, or did you just come by to terrorize my pregnant wife with your theoretical judgment of her soul?”

“More your speed?” Pritchard replied, lifting a brow.

“Pardon?”

“Heard about you Seed boys,” he continued coolly, “and your...” He gestured with a calloused hand vaguely, looking for the right word.

John smiled, with teeth. “Before I grow old, if you don’t mind, sheriff.”

“Proclivities,” Pritchard elaborated, “for religion.”

Fucking Burke, he thought, with no absence of venom; fucking Burke can’t resist the urge to try and fuck up my life when he’d be better off trying to find a place to hunker down for the end of the world.

“We’re red-blooded Americans,” John idled coolly, “freedom of religion goes hand in hand with that.”

“Mr. Pritchard, you wanna get that car started?” Wyatt cut in abruptly, glancing around like he thought maybe the rest of the patrol might be rolling in any minute. “It doesn’t sound like you’ve got any questions for Mr. Seed.”

“That’s sheriff to you, boy,” he snapped. And then, after a heartbeat, he fished his keys out of his pocket and said, “I s’pose I got all the information I needed, after all.”

“Mmhm.”

John had turned back to the house, spotting Elliot and Sylvia through the front window, when Pritchard announced, “You make sure Scarlet gives me a call when she’s recovered from your wife’s antics, Mr. Seed.”

His gaze returned to the sheriff, narrowed. “Certainly, Sheriff Pritchard.”

“But if I don’t hear from you, no worries,” the man continued, opening his car door, “I’ll make another special trip out here.”

“Goody.”

John flashed another grin when Pritchard’s eyes flickered over him. Wyatt said, “Have a safe drive,” and Pritchard slammed his door shut, his cruiser’s engine roaring to life before he began to slowly back out and make a u-turn to head down the long driveway again. There was a moment of silence, stretching between himself and Wyatt that he didn’t feel particularly inclined to break—after all, Wyatt had been taking liberties with Elliot that he shouldn’t have been—before the blonde finally broke the silence.

“Congrats,” Wyatt said after a minute. “About—uh, the baby, I mean. I didn’t know!”

Ah, he thought, feeling a strange little surge of pride at the way the man across from him shifted on his feet with discomfort, and that’s why Elliot’s mad I brought it up. Her friends didn’t know.

Well, it was better this way, after all. He wouldn’t have taken it back even if he’d gotten the chance, knowing what he did now.

“Thank you,” he replied amiably. “It’s certainly a blessing.”

Wyatt’s mouth twisted for a moment, looking like there was something he wanted to say specifically and didn’t know how to say it without foregoing social niceties, but the sound of the front door opening caught both of their attentions.

“Wyatt, you gonna stand out here like a lemming all afternoon or what?” Via called. “Get the car warmed up, you caveman.” She took a few steps down the front stairs and looked at John. “You’re wanted inside, Mr. Seed.”

A very polite way of telling him that Elliot, perhaps, was in the mood to throttle him with her bare hands. Though he didn’t really see the harm in spilling the news—perhaps with Via, sure, but Wyatt? The cowboy? Like that was ever going to be anything.

“Thanks for your help,” John said, clapping Wyatt on the shoulder before he made his way to the front steps. Via hadn’t moved. In fact, her normally polite expression was eerily cool—whatever amicable, feigned interest she had manicured for him in the past seemed to have evaporated in the wake of Elliot’s own fury.

As he neared, he said, “Something else you needed, Miss West?”

Via’s eyes narrowed. She looked at Wyatt, now inside the car, and then back to John. “You must think I’m mighty dumb, don’t you?”

John lifted an eyebrow inquisitively. “If you think I instigated that little outburst on purpose—”

“What I think,” Via replied, “is that you know exactly what she’s capable of handling. Just because you didn’t do it on purpose doesn’t mean you weren’t thinking of letting her physically assault a police officer.”

His easy-going expression flattened. Sylvia, and her seeing, the same kind of uncanny people-reading skills that Joseph had, too. Seeing his delight at knowing that Elliot would have taken on a man a foot taller than her, pregnant, if it meant keeping him away from the baby, if it meant keeping herself out of the grip of a greater power that wanted her in a psychiatric evaluation.

“I want to like you,” Via continued, taking the steps until she reached the bottom, “and I thought maybe you were here to make a real effort. But it seems like you’re the same person you were before, John Duncan.”

The name sent a jolt of red-hot anger flushing down his spine, filling him up suddenly with a sort of molten rage that only the reminder of his adoptive parents could have inspired in him. When Via went to move past him, he snatched her elbow, holding her in place.

“And where,” he ground out, “did you hear that name, Miss West?”

“It’s called a web browser, John,” Via replied coolly. “You ever heard of Google? Imagine how many John Seeds there are in Hope County, Montana. I don’t need to tell you that the articles regarding you and your brothers, though a bit old, are unflattering. And all I want you to know—” She paused, arm still in his grip. “—is that we’re aware of each other, and that I don’t want anything happening to Elliot.”

“Neither do I,” John replied tightly, “and I especially don’t want someone digging trenches where there’s not a war zone.”

Via regarded him with an even gaze for a moment, glancing back at the car where her brother sat, before she murmured idly, “Kindly take your hand off of my arm, John.”

“Ellliot’s already aware of the any of the information in those articles,” he continued lowly, “just so you know.”

“My point, John,” Via replied casually, “is that I know, and I can—and will—deal with it as I see fit. Now, you gonna take your fuckin’ hand off of my arm, or are we going to have a problem?”

He watched her for a moment—just long enough to consider the dopamine rush of killing her, grabbing a fistful of her hair and slamming her face into the top of the porch, doing something, anything to ensure that Sylvia West was not capable of messing up anything that he was doing—and then he planted a big smile on his face and dropped his hand from her arm.

“Careful,” he said, louder now so that Wyatt would hear, “it’s icy.”

The blonde didn’t respond. Instead, she brushed her hand absently where his had been, as though to brush herself free of his touch, and picked her way across the driveway and to the truck idling just on the other side of the jeep.

Well, that would be one less problem to deal with, in the end.

John made his way inside, closing the front door quietly behind himself and taking a moment to gauge. Just to see what was going on. The house itself was quiet, and Boomer’s little footfalls were nowhere to be heard, and Scarlet wasn’t sipping her vodka in the living room—so.

So.

So.

Taking a breath, he started up the stairs, turning into the hall to find Elliot’s bedroom door halfway ajar. He paused in the doorway; she was rifling through drawers, pulling sweaters and long-sleeved shirts and jeans and sweats out and dropping them into a duffel bag, furious little exhales occasionally coming out of her.

“I was told I was being summoned,” John said, Elliot’s attention razor-sharp and snapping to him immediately.

“Pack your shit,” she said briskly, “we’re leaving.”

He blinked. Taking a step inside, he glanced at Boomer—perched protectively between himself and Elliot—and said, “I thought we were waiting until after the Christmas party?”

“You’re not fucking deaf, John, you heard Pritchard,” she snapped. “The Feds have been asking about me. The only reason they don’t know exactly where to look—whoever it is—is because Pritchard’s a fucking asshole and likes to be as obstinate as possible.”

“And if we sprint out of here,” he replied, “you’re just going to draw their attention.”

“It’s what Pritchard wants.” Elliot zipped the duffel bag shut and then brushed past him into the bathroom, gathering up her toothbrush and toothpaste and the sleeping pills. “For me to be gone. He’ll piss off if I go. And there’s no way he’s going to put up a big fight to cozy up to the government.”

“Elliot.” John watched her furiously gathering things up, and then when she came by again he caught her with his hands. “Ell, just slow down—”

“Stop,” she bit out, “stop telling me what to fucking do, John, and—I told you not to touch me.”

He lifted his hands from her, but not far enough that she could duck past. “Are you that mad about Sylvia and Wyatt knowing you’re pregnant?” When she didn’t answer, and instead hauled the bag over from the other side of the bed to be close to her so that she could dump the collections from the bathroom into it, he sighed. “I didn’t know you hadn’t told them, but I don’t understand what all of the secrecy is about. The baby isn’t—”

“I felt normal!” Elliot replied sharply, her voice pitching a little higher now, and John heard the wet wobble in it too—the way the timbre of her voice thickened and rounded out with the threat of oncoming tears, her cheeks flushed with anger and maybe shame and pain, too. “Okay? I felt—I f-fucking felt normal, for once, and it was enough that Sylvia knew you and I had been—that we’re married, which I don’t even want to dig into right now, but it was another to be like—yes, the father of my fucking child, who I’m actually married to even though I didn’t want it, is here and oh, by the way? He’s part of a cult. Yeah, a fucking doomsday cult. I’m carrying the child of a doomsday cultist.”

“How was I supposed to know?” he demanded. “How was I supposed to know that you didn’t want Sylvia and her brother knowing you were pregnant? You never said. And what does it matter?” And then, feeling the petulance well up inside of him: “I know it probably felt nice, to have Wyatt giving you attention—”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” she asked, incredulous. “You’re really pulling that now? So, what—you dumped the news because you wanted to make sure my friend found me as off-limited as possible?”

John crossed his arms over his chest. “I know this may come as a shock to you,” he said, feeling the tension peeling apart behind his eyelids, “I really didn’t want Pritchard smoking near my baby.”

“My baby.” Elliot jammed her finger into his chest, just above his heart, her words vicious. “It’s our baby, or it’s my baby, but there isn’t a single fucking universe where the only person this baby is beholden to is you.”

“He’s,” John corrected, tartly. “He’s our baby. And at the end of the day, whether you like it or not—”

“Have you ever,” she cut in over him, biting the words out between her teeth, “done anything for me that wasn’t for you too?”

Watching her, the words sat sticky in his chest. His instinct was to say, of course I have, but that wasn’t true. Of course it wasn’t. And he wasn’t going to pretend like it was, either—because he wasn’t ashamed that everything he had done had been for them, that if Elliot wasn’t his then there would be no point in it, that it was a zero sum game where he either had her or he had nothing.

He said, evenly, “No.”

Elliot looked unseated by his honesty. She swept her fingers across her forehead tiredly and turned back to her bag. “Then do me a favor and pack your shit so we can go.”

John sighed. “Don’t you think—”

“John,” she bit out, “I am making an executive decision.”

“Alright, Ell.”

“And—”

John had turned to the door to go gather what few of his belongings he’d had when Elliot cut herself off, drawing his eyes over his shoulder to her again. She looked unwell—stressed, feverish, her hands buried into the duffel bag maybe to hide the shaking and her face flushed and her brows furrowed together.

“Thank you,” she managed out after a minute, “for being honest. For once.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Pratt brushed the snow from his hair, teeth chattering as he waded through knee-deep snow out towards the water. It had been three days, and Helmi had told him to meet her out there—how she was going to get past the compound’s security, Pratt didn’t know, but he also thought it probably was best not to dwell on the things that Helmi would do (and could do) to get where she needed to be.

Which is why he found himself less and less surprised to find her standing at the edge of the water, in the middle of the night, swathed up to her jaw in dark, heavy fabrics. The only part of her that wasn’t covered were her hands; the closer he got, he could see she was turning a smooth, dark rock over and over in her hands, passing it between them as she watched him come nearer.

“You remembered,” was how she greeted him, most of her face cast in shadow thanks to the high position of the moon behind her. Pratt shivered and jammed his hands into his coat pockets.

“Yeah, well, kinda hard to forget,” he replied. “Considering it’s been looming over me for the last few days.”

“Poor thing,” Helmi agreed, not sounding sympathetic at all. “Did you call her?”

Pratt paused, clearing his throat. There was something that didn’t quite sit right with him, knowing that he had called Elliot not out of a cry for her help—not really, anyway—but because this other cult wanted her. This cult, which had tore its way through Hope County splitting and gutting its residents, wanted her. And Helmi didn’t seem keen on telling him why.

“I did. They just got word that she and John are on the road now,” he said after a moment. “What, uh—do you want her for, anyway?”

Helmi quirked a brow at him, the corner of her mouth tilting upwards. “Shouldn’t you have asked that before making the phone call, if it was going to bother you?”

A little lick of shame and embarrassment crawled red-hot into his cheeks, and he scoffed, turning his face away. “Well, you said you wanted her alive. Can’t say the same for the Seeds.”

“She’s carrying John’s child,” Helmi pointed out. “You think they’d kill her still?”

Pratt grimaced. It was still hard to stomach—the idea that Elliot was with John. Or had been, at one point. It didn’t sound like things were going great, and he could only imagine why. Still—

Still, he thought there was a lesser of the two evils, and Helmi sounded like it. Maybe not the others, but Helmi.

“They don’t have a problem killing babies,” Pratt replied after a minute. “What are you going to do, once she gets here? They won’t let her leave, and they definitely won’t let you in.”

Now, the blonde grinned—pearly teeth in the dark of the night, surprisingly satisfied with herself. “Big one’s pissed at me, isn’t he?”

“Yeah. Well, you know, Faith too. You've been killing her angels.”

She shrugged. “I’ve got a plan. You know exactly as much as you need to know right now. Are you eating?”

The question came so quickly that Pratt didn’t have time to register the oddness of it, replying on automatic the same way he had been with Arden’s consistent, gentle pestering: “Yeah, I mean—don’t have much of an appetite, but...”

His voice trailed off and he glanced back at the woman. Her head was cocked and her eyes were fixed on him expectantly. “What?”

“Eat,” she told him. “Take advantage of as much as you can. And most of all, listen. Any information you can get will be helpful.”

Pratt’s throat felt a little tight. He kept thinking about the way Jacob had grabbed his shoulder, laughing when he’d insulted the woman doing the heavy lifting for Joseph—grinning like a fucking wolf, like he was going to be dinner, next.

He managed out, “He’ll kill me. If he suspects. He’ll take—everything, from me.”

Helmi planted a hand on his shoulder. The gesture made him want to flinch, but he bit back the urge, and he thought maybe she’d seen but didn’t say.

“He already took everything from you,” she replied lightly, “and do you know what that means?”

The dark of her gaze was intense, piercing even in the late night; it made it hard to look away. Voices echoed back in the compound, and briefly, he thought maybe they’d noticed his absence—but he only shook his head.

“It means you have nothing to lose,” Helmi murmured, “and everything to take back from him.” Her hand moved from his shoulder to the back of his neck, the pad of her thumb sweeping up to his pulsepoint pensively. “See? Your heart is beating, and hard. Your blood knows it’s what you want, even if you don’t yet.”

Swallowing thickly, he nodded his head once. Nothing to lose, and everything to take back. Could he? Could he get things back? Is that what Helmi had done? What Elliot had done?

“And don’t fuck it up,” she added, dropping her hand from his neck and zipping her coat up. Leaving so soon. She grinned. “Or I’ll gut you myself. And I guarantee, it won’t be an Återfödelse.”

A nervous, almost hysterical little laugh bubbled up out of him. Helmi shot him a look and then brushed past him, heading back into where the brush became the thickest, calling over her shoulder, “See you in a few days, Staci Pratt.”

A few days. A few days, Elliot would be back, and John Seed would be back, and Helmi would be seeing him. Seeing them. Maybe it would be better to make a break with Elliot, once she got in—but what if she didn’t want to? What if she was one of them?

Pratt let out a puff of hot breath, digging the heel of his palm into his eyesocket while the pain bloomed just there, turning and beginning to trudge back to the compound before anyone noticed his absence. Each scrape and puff of snow fell in line with his heartbeat, the mantra on and off again.

Nothing to lose.

Everything to take back.

#my writing #far cry 5 fic #fc5 fic #john seed/female deputy #john seed x female deputy #fic: witching hour #ch: elliot honeysett #ch: john seed #ch: joseph seed #ch: isolde khan #ch: jacob seed #ch: staci pratt #ch: helmi #hrghrhgrgh #gang's almost all together #and then i won't be tagging them all lmao #filing cabinet can suffer #thank you thank you thank you to everyone who cheered me on #had a bit of a breakdown last week and came back with a fresh head #so i feel really pleased! #ch: faith seed

[kuronanox]

A promise in heaven - Julius Novachrono

"Let me go!"

"No, you know I can't do that."

"I hate you Julius I can't stand looking at you."

Yanking her arm from his grip she cried and screamed. He tried to hold her and comfort her but she refused. The feeling of betrayal overcame him.

"Why don't you trust me!" Julius shouts, letting his emotions get to him. "I only love you and I've proven it so many times! What must I do to make you stay."

(Your Name) shakes her head and looks down at the floor. "Nothing, how could you love a broken person like me?"

"(Your Name)." He says with a crack voice as she looks back at his pained eyes. With one last yank Julius let her arm go as she ran away.

It was 10 years ago and it still hurt him till the present day. At first he laid around his room and neglected his duties more. After a few months he knew she wasn't coming back.

Julius looked out the Clover Kingdom and sighed. She was a troublesome girl and often got into trouble a lot. He just wanted to be there for her and protect her from the cruel world.

They met when she was running away from a group of thugs, she had stole a bag of gold from them out of desperation of money.

"The dumb bitch is running around the corner!"

(Your Name) ran as fast as should could, she was running out of money and by the next week she was going to be on the streets again. Turning the corner she came across Julius and he looked shocked.

Clicking her teeth she advanced towards him and kicked him in the stomach and made a run for it.

Julius was the wizard king but getting kicked by a civilian shocked him that he couldn't move.

"It-it's the wizard king!" The thugs yelled and ran away back to their homes afraid he was going to send them to prison.

(Your name) looked back to see no one as she sighed and smiled. The money would last her months till she can get a steady foot.

"That wasn't really nice miss." Julius says in front as her mouth gasp and she pulled out a dagger.

"Move or else." She says with fear in her voice.

"Hey hey, I won't hurt you. Tell me where are you from?" He gently says holding her hands down safely.

Knitting her brows she scanned him up and down. Shaking her head she shut her mouth.

Julius sighed and took the bag of gold from her. Her eyes widen "Hey!"

"Tell me, why are stealing gold from under ground thugs?"

"Because... isn't it obvious. I need the money."

"Get back to work!" Marx shouts to Julius as he spaced out for the 5th time that morning. "Ahh I'm sorry, I got distracted again."

Picking up a piece of paper to sign Marx gives a sympathetic look and walks away. He knew Julius was thinking about her. (Your Name) the only person to bring out his smile besides when he saw new types of magic.

Julius and (Your Name) were in love but she couldn't handle the life and the people here.

It seemed like everyone was against their relationship at the time and tried to bring them down. They succeeded as she left a part of Julius left with her.

"I'll help you back to your feet." Julius offered as he brought her to safety in his office.

"I don't need help from you." She sneered looking away from him.

"Alright well I guess you won't be needing this either." Julius smirked dangling the bag of gold as her eyes followed in desperation.

"Ugh fine! What do you want me to do?"

"You can get a job as a server at one of our nicest restaurants in the kingdom."

(Your Name) crossed her arms and took a seat across from Julius, listening to the opportunity she has.

"Fine, where will I stay till I can get a place?"

"Um here!" He exclaimed with a bright smile as she gave him a smug look.

"Whatever, deal."

A loud thunder clashed as (Your Name) eyes opened from her sleep. She sat up from bed and pushed her hair away from her face.

"Why do I keep dreaming about him? I left him I shouldn't be this sad."

"(Your Name)! You have your regular!" A coworker had shouted out to her.

The past few months she was working there she became a natural and tips became so easy to make.

Julius also became a regular because he wanted to check up on her to see if she was okay and also because he was entranced by her.

She smiled to herself and turned to see Julius waiting patiently for her.

"The usual?" She asks him as he nodded.

After her shifts he was always there to walk her back safely and at the same time she was still staying in his office.

"You know I can get my own place now."

Julius stiffens a bit and gives a weak smile. "Actually (Your Name) I wanted to talk to you about sometime."

"Um alright." (Your Name) says noticing that he was acting unusual that night.

"I've been feeling this for a while, but I really enjoy your company and would like to have you by my side and would be sadden to see you with anyone else."

"Did you just confess to me?" She laughs as he grabs the back of his neck and lightly chuckles.

"Kinda."

"Well lucky for you I will accept!"

(Your Name) gets a message from Marx asking her to return to the Clover Kingdom. Throwing the paper away she goes out and starts to harvest her plants because winter could get harsh.

"Why does that mushroom keep sending me updates about Julius! It's been years and I've moved on!" She tries to convince herself and dig in the dirt planting some tomatoes.

"I'm home!" (Your Name) shouts as Julius hoisted her from behind.

"I'm glad you got back safe. How was work?"

"Ugh I had a table leave without paying but either than that it was good."

Julius smiles and kisses her

gently on the on the lips taking her to the shower.

They relaxed in the tub as he told her about his day and all the new magic he saw.

"Seems interesting, I'm not really gifted in magic..."

Julius notices her sadness and lifts her chin to his face. "You are more than enough to me, I'll be here to protect you."

"But I won't be able to protect you! What if something happens to the kingdom and you can't stop it! I won't be able to help."

Julius sighs and drys his body along with her as they laid in bed.

"Shh, stop. Nothing will ever happen. I promise."

"Julius, don't make promises you can't keep."

"I promise." He whispers to her, laying his head on her as she sadly smiles and lets him drift to sleep.

Julius thought back about that time, he promised to protect her and the kingdom. As he fought licht he had a small feeling of guilt.

He was about to break his promise, he thought about (Your Name). Wondering if she was still alive or in trouble.

When Licht plunged his sword into Julius, he smiled. Maybe it was better this way. He was getting older and a new wizard king was bound to happen.

Then he thought again. "Maybe this time I'll get to be with (Your name)."

Although he wanted to cry no tears came out.

"What are you reading so intently?" (Your Name) asks Julius as he tried to hide the letter but was snatched out of his hands.

"Wow everyone hates me here. I told you Julius I'm nothing but a burden to you and the kingdom!"

Julius sighs and looks out the window, it was the 10th letter that week regarding (Your Name) and how she didn't deserve to be with him and how weak she was.

"No one thinks that."

"Everyone thinks that. Stop trying to hide the truth from me. I know no one accepts our relationship. Especially bird braid Nozel.”

Julius sits up from his chair and brings her to an embrace as she hugged him. "I hate this. I hate myself."

"Shh, stop."

(Your Name) sighed, even when going out alone people yelled and called her names. Some refused to let her in the store or provide service. Although she never let Julius know, he knew.

"We will be okay, I promise."

She scoffed and hugged tighter in his embrace. "You and your promises again."

Opening the millionth letter again from Marx she scanned through it and was about to throw it away when she read that Julius had passed away and her attendance at Clover Kingdom was necessary.

Her mouth went dry as her eyes watered. Packing everything that was important to her she hit the road and left to see him.

It was when she entered, Marx immediately brought her to the body. Holding in her cries she saw his face. He was at peace, no more work no more duties to attend. He was in heaven.

"I wish he could have seen you one last time if we had known he was going to pass." Marx states looking down at the body.

Crying ugly tears she screamed and took his hand with hers. "I'm sorry I left Julius. You know me to well I was to stubborn and I selfishly left you."

The days passed and she lingered in his room and bed looking out the window it had been raining the last few days.

No announcement had been made to the public yet, although everyone had been curious where the wizard king has been.

“Yo.” A gruff lazy voice calls by the door way.

Sitting up she calls out. “Yami.”

“Still see you lounging around?”

She laughs and looks down at her hands. “Yeah it’s been tough. Glad to see you are doing well.”

Yami puffs out some smoke and leans against the door. “Yeah, you too. Thought you were dead if I’m being honest. Julius never told me what happen.”

Sighing she looks up to Yami and gives a weak smile.

“I wish it was me rather than him.”

Silence fold between the two as they listened to the rain fall. “Well I gotta show you something.”

“What?”

“Just follow me.”

Walking down the hallway they make it to a balcony.

“It’s raining Yami.”

Turning around he was gone.

She saw that the kingdom was a mess, the buildings were destroyed, the people were trying to rebuilt their lives again.

“(Your Name).”

“I don’t have time to see this Yami!”

“Well after all these years you still have some sassy in you.”

“You know I don’t really need-“ turning her body in slight irritation she sees Julius standing behind her with a smile.

The smile that lit up the world and all that was there.

“Julius!”

“I’m back (Your Name).”

Giving him a big hug she rubbed her face in his chest. “I’ve missed you, I’m so sorry.”

Julius caresses her hair and embraces her.

“I forgive you, this time you are saying.”

“But how did you come back? I saw you out cold.”

Julius looks away slyly. “It’s complicated, we will get back to that another time. At the mean time we have lots to catch up on.”

Grabbing her hand they walk back to room and sit on the bed.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” She says back holding both his hands looking down ashamed.

“We will fix this (Your Name), nothings ever perfect.”

“I know, I’ll stay and I’ll push past the obstacles that tear us down.”

Julius kisses her hands and brings them to his face.

"I didn't break my promise and came back."

(Your Name) punches him lightly and scoffs.

"Whatever."

They lay in bed and look out the window together. "Well looks like we have a lot of work for the kingdom in the next few months."

"I like the we." She says and he kisses her forehead.

"It's always going to be we for now on." Julius says closing his eyes, enjoying this peace of heaven he could stay for a while.

#black clover oneshots #black clover oneshot #black clover julius #julius novachrono #yuki tabata #black clover #yami sukehiro #black clover yami #black clover x reader #black clover imagines

[sanababes]

It All Ends Here

Pairings: female kpop idols x fem!reader

Warnings: NEUTRAL (detective au)

-----------

PROFILE

• Name: Park Y/n (female)

• Age: 18

• Height: 5'8

• Bloodtype: A-

===

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock

The sound of the clock almost lulled you to sleep. Exhaustion was finally taking a toll on your whole body due to the continuous murder cases for the past weeks. You and your teammates were sent to different crime scenes to assist the bureau, and especially to ensure the safety of the city of Seoul.

A sound of glass being placed on the table interrupted your eyelids from fully closing. You looked up to see your trusted partner, Major Song Yuqi. She chuckled at your vulnerable state then took a sit across you.

"It's pretty rare to see you that tired, Y/n." She mocked playfully.

You rolled your eyes out of annoyance and clearly, your day won't get any better.

"Yeah right,"

She gestured you to drink the liquid that she mainly prepared to ease your troubled mind. You casted a look of doubt to your mischievous friend before shrugging your shoulders and sipped on the hot tea. A delightful sigh came out from your mouth as the warm liquid rushed down on your throat.

"Damn, that's much better... Thanks, Yuqi." You smiled gently which made the latter feel contented.

"It's nothing, Lead Inspector."

"Oh! Today's finally the day we elect a new mayor! Who are you going to vote for?" She added while pacing around your room excitingly.

"Huh? I don't know yet..." You replied nonchalantly.

"Well I'm going for Kwon Boa, but don't tell chief though or he'd go spare!" You chuckled at your partner's antics.

Seoul is currently celebrating the election between the mayoral candidates – Choi Siwon (red party) and Kwon Boa (blue party). Both are socialites within the government, with Siwon being the current elected mayor and Boa's aspiring will to lead the city better.

Just then, the door of your office burst open. The two of you immediately rise up and greeted the Police Chief of Seoul, Kim Namjoon.

"There you are, Lead Inspector. I've been searching for you, "

"Speaking of the devil..." You heard Yuqi grumbling under her breath.

You stifled a laugh before welcoming the man inside.

"Well know that you found me, what is it that you want to say, Chief?" Your eyes glanced down to the i voted badge on his chest.

"I'm sure that you guys know that today is an important day! Keeping things secure is our top priority for now, that's why I came here. I want you to go check out the red party's offices because Mayor Siwon has expressed strong fears about the safety of his staffs and I don't want to leave anything to chance." He stated, but you're a little unsure with his sudden firm attitude.

"But chief I've been hoping that we'd be having a day off—"

Yuqi's whine was cut off when the chief yelled out.

"You can't seriously have hoped to be off duty on such a day, Major Song?! Now go and report to me as soon as your team is done patrolling!"

Eventually, you went to the lounge area of the officers with Yuqi tailing behind you and saw your other five teammates chilling without any worries.

"Guys! We'll be heading to the headquarters of the red party, please ready yourselves and we'll leave in a bit."

Sua, Jennie, Joy, Sana, and Miyeon groaned in unison as they struggled to follow your orders.

"Oh stop with the fuss, we are all tired here... Don't worry I'll try to book a week vacation for us." You offered.

Their faces instantly lit up at what you said, causing them to gear up hastily which made you snort.

《at Red party's Headquarters》

You and the girls stepped out from the van then walked up to the entrance of the building.

"Hey Y/n, have you noticed... how tense Chief is acting lately?" Jennie said as she clings to your right arm.

The others immediately agreed to what the older girl uttered.

"I know right, maybe the mayor is putting some kind of pressure on him. I hope it stops after the elections." Sana continued while swiftly wrapping her arm around you.

"We don't know anything about that yet, let's just wait and see."

You finally composed yourself, and as if it was planned, Mayor Siwon appeared with his bodyguards behind him.

"Inspector Y/n, I'm so glad that you girls are here!"

He shook hands with you and the girls looked at him with hidden disgust, unknown to your own oblivious demeanor.

"That goes the same for us, Mr. Choi." You smiled politely.

"Uhm since my headquarters are about to open in an hour or two, I want to make sure everything is safe for my staff's last day of work."

He motioned to come closer to the sealed doors before unlocking them one by one.

"Here, I've opened the doors for you. Please if you can just have a quick look inside, I'll feel safer." You and the girls reluctantly stepped inside the offices.

Your team began to part ways and started to look around the vast hall.

Not even a few seconds had passed, a loud shriek coming from Joy made you dash to her side.

"What's wro– oh shit!" Yuqi cursed as she saw what the latter was screaming about.

There in front of you and the other officers was a man sitting in one of the office chairs, unfortunately, he was shot to death.

"Oh my god! B-but how could this happen, and is that the rookie model, Kwon Jiyoung? What is h-he even doing here?" Joy stuttered due to the terrifying scene.

"I've never liked him at all since he's been involved with some drug scandal, but to die like that and be shot right between the eyes? Damn..." Sua sighed.

Just then, the mayor called out.

"Inspector, is everything alright?" His eyes went wide when he saw Jiyoung's dead body.

"Oh god, I-I swear I had nothing to do with this! I'm innocent and history will prove it!" He exclaimed while starting to walk backwards.

"Calm down, Mr. Choi. We're just going to need to talk to you since Jiyoung was shot in your headquarters, after all." You warned him with your raspy voice.

'Ughh, daddy~' The girls thought except for Yuqi.

( a/n: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) )

The mayor agreed and ushered you and your team to make it quick.

"Oh God, the press will surely crucify me once they knew about this. We need to do some damage control!"

After calming the man down, you added him to the profile list for being a possible suspect.

You told Jennie, Sana, and Joy to bring the victim's body to the morgue for an autopsy report. The rest are tasked to investigate the crime scene.

"Y/n! I found a receipt, this might be a clue." Miyeon said as you take a look on the faded paper.

It belonged to Jiyoung and it seems like he bought a drink at Lotte Hotel shortly before his death.

"Good job, maybe try checking the hotel after this search? You can bring Detective Jieun with you."

"Yes, Inspector!" She kissed your cheek before going back on finding clues or some fingerprints.

'Why are they so whipped for me...'

===

You and Yuqi are currently talking with the mayor in some private room within the Red party's offices. They are still some questions that Siwon needs to answer to give your team some information.

"Inspector, this cannot be happening! The journalists will have a field day with this if it goes out to the public!" He said and distress was evident on his face.

"I'm afraid that we cannot make this go all away, but I have already informed the Chief. I'm sure he'll keep this case confidential for a lotted time." Your partner reassured the man.

"I can't believe people would do this... Killing a man just to ruin my chances of being re-elected!"

Your brows furrowed at his statement.

"So you are claiming that you were framed?"

He reasoned that Kwon Jiyoung was an avid supporter of his campaign.

"I see, thank you for having time for us Mr. Mayor." You and Yuqi soon left the offices.

《back to Seoul Police Department》

The good news instantly came as the two of you arrived at the station. Coroner Kim Taeyeon reported that the victim was executed cleanly with an extremely precise shot. The killer seems to be right-handed due to the bullet trajectory and definitely knows how to handle a gun.

—————————————————

KILLER'S PROFILE

• handles guns

• right-handed

—————————————————

Meanwhile, Miyeon and Jieun just came back from investigating the lobby and bar of Lotte Hotel.

"Y/n, it's confirmed that Kwon Jiyoung came to the hotel shortly before his death. We also picked up a torn ticket, I'm sure it looks promising!" The detective said while handing you a clear zip bag which contains the clue.

"I see, let me try restore it in my office. I'll see you guys in a bit."

You sauntered towards your office and placed the torn pieces of the ticket on your table. You leaned one of your hands on the hard surface before starting to place the pieces together.

You're now down to the last part when someone back hugged you and nuzzled its face into the crook of your neck.

"Y/n~ let's cuddle~" Sana whined which made you chuckle.

"Now is not the time for that Sana-ssi, besides I just finished restoring the second clue." You showed her the finished product.

The girl snatched it from your hold before skimming through the details of the plane ticket. She also pushed you gently towards the table which made you sit on it, the latter smiled then placed herself on your lap.

"It says that this ticket was brought under Kwon Jiyoung's name. And this is a one-way ticket to Hawaii! Why he would even purchase such kind of trip?" Sana pouted as she turned her face towards you.

"You're right. As far as I know, Jiyoung's sole goal in life is to be a bona fide member of Seoul's exclusive luxury community. He'll never have left for some tropical islands..."

"The credit card number used to buy this ticket will help us understand everything! ...Oh no, it's badly printed... can you help decipher this for me Sana unnie?" You asked cutely.

"O-of course, I'll be done in no time!" You saw her blushing which made you smirk internally.

"Thanks, I really appreciate the help." You pressed a kiss on her forehead before leaving the latter flustered.

Your phone suddenly rang as you pressed answer, not even bothering to look at the name of the caller.

"Yah Park Y/n! We still need to have a chat with Kwon Boa, I'm barging in any second!" Yuqi exclaimed.

You groaned at her childish demeanor.

"I'll be back in an hour, please do your task okay?" You reminded Sana before finally meeting up with Yuqi.

===

《Seoul City Hall》

The press conference of the candidates just ended a few minutes ago, so you took it as an advantage and greeted the head of the blue party.

"Ah, Inspector Park! It's nice to see you, have you voted yet? After what happened today it seems like my victory tonight is almost ensured!" Boa expressed herself happily.

"Are you referring to Kwon Jiyoung's murder?" Yuqi asked as you watched the older woman in front.

"Hmm, I always had a hunch that the red party is populated with bloodthirsty maniacs. I mean making dreadful deeds just to advance their political agenda... Poor Mr. Kwon being shot at their own headquarters, now I'm sure that the citizens of Seoul will vote for me!"

"Anyways, my campaign has always been based on honesty and morals." The mayoral candidate stated.

You just sighed at her egocentric reply.

"I think that's all that we need to know for now, Mrs. Kwon. We'll keep in contact with you, just in case." You sent her a cold gaze before walking away with your partner.

Yuqi grumbled under her breath before draping her arms around your tall frame.

"These goddamn politicians are going to be the death of me..."

You chuckled on what she said.

"Same... Right now we only have two suspects."

"Yeah, we should close this case as soon as we can. By the way, Officer Chan told me that you should check your email soon. He said the mayor's staff sent you a video recording." Your partner explained.

You immediately grabbed your phone then opened your email.

1 unread inbox

You shared a meaningful glance with Yuqi before opening the said message.

A videotape is played which showed Kwon Boa sneaking into the Mayor's office, presumably right before Jiyoung was killed.

"I can't believe this! It's Mrs. Kwon! We should speak to her again right now–"

"Not so fast, Major Song." Chief Kim appeared with some of the SWAT officers behind him.

"Mrs. Kwon can wait, I want you two to go secure the stand where the election's winner will be announced."

"Huh? But Chief we can't lose time on finding–" you tried to argue, but as usual, you were cut off again.

"Finding Mr. Kwon's murderer is top-priority, but so is the election winner's safety! I'm counting on you Inspector Park, go talk to Boa and don't forget to check out the election stand on the way!"

You and your partner had no choice but to follow his orders instantly.

"Every goddamn time, he always cuts us off!" You whined childishly which is pretty rare.

After a few minutes of walking, the two of you arrived at the wide podium. It has two large posters of each party which is hanged opposite to one another. The guest tables were pretty scattered in front of it due to the neglecting visitors who came to watch the awaited conference a while ago.

"Let's split up, you're with the tables then the podium is mine." You instructed Yuqi.

"Yes ma'am!"

The two of you then started to inspect the area thoroughly without missing a single spot. There were a few plant vases on the stage which didn't look suspicious until you saw one that looked a bit unkempt and the soil was disheveled too.

'Oh! Looks like our killer messed up a little, too bad for him...'

You wore your leather gloves before analyzing the vase carefully. It seems like someone previously dug up a hole and covered it carelessly. A smirk crept into your lips as you shoved your hand in the soil and began to try feel any possible foreign object.

"What are you doing?" You looked down to see your partner doubting your current efforts to find a lead.

"I'm searching for any clues? Duh..."

You suddenly felt a hard item and struggled to have a grip on it. After a few seconds of harsh pulling, you finally hauled a small garbage bag with something wrapped completely inside it.

"Look what I got~" you grinned playfully.

"How the fuck did you–"

"I'm going to bring this to the forensic team, have anything useful too?" You asked while stepping down the podium.

"Uh I got this hidden camera on one of the tissue holders, and then I saw this notebook on the floor. The page is torn so I think It looks suspicious so yeah,"

Yuqi handed the portable camera and ripped notebook to you. She also helped on putting all the clues inside your forensic kit whilst you called for Officer Wooseok to pick you up from the city hall.

"I called for Jennie and Joy to help you talk with Mrs. Kwon again, I'm sure you can handle it without me right? I'll go ahead to the station to get this stuff examined." You bid a goodbye to your partner and told her to wait for the other girls.

'Let's see if the fun starts from now on.'

Part 2 coming soon...

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

How was ittt? Its my first time writing with these kind of theme sooo yeah hihi 🐶

#kpop imagines #kpop au #twice #blackpink #red velvet #dream catcher #gidle #bts #snsd #sana #jennie #namjoon #miyeon #sua #joy #yuqi #detective au #ihih

[colorfullfalls]

I will protect you part 1

Embry Call x reader

Grocery shopping was not your least favorite thing to do, but it was needed. You had been on a health kick and tried to eat healthier after you started going to the gym. You noticed a young man around your age had been closely behind you the whole time while shopping, but you ignored it. It was a busy place and there was no need to be weird about it.

You went to grab the same bag of chips at the same time, prompting an awkward laugh out of the both of you.

"My bad, go ahead." The boy said with a charming chuckle as he stepped back.

You paused to take a good look at him. He look oddly familiar. Brown eyes, brown hair, tan skin, tall. He looked like your boyfriend and his pack mates, by you knew he wasn't a wolf. You hadn't seen him prior to this encounter.

"Grocery store daze am I right? I'm y/n by the way."

"Nice to meet you, it's Wiley."

"Nice to meet you too."

After that day you would see Wiley more and more. It got the point that you had to mention it to your boyfriend.

Embry came over to your small apartment to hangout but mostly to fix your old blazer. The check engine light came on and your mechanic boyfriend wanted to check it out as soon as possible.

You sat in the yard in a lawn chair as he laid below the vehicle. Grease ran down his tan toned arm, making your heart swell. Even after years of dating he still make your heart race and he only got more attractive.

Embry talked about how his day went as he worked tentatively. You listened and added in when you thought necessary. Your mind was clouded by the new stranger that seemed everywhere you went. He seemed harmless really, but why was he following you? He was at the stores, the gym, even in your work a few times within the past month.

You were starting to grow paranoid. You wanted to tell Embry but you feared how he would react. The wolves were overprotective over their imprints and this would drive him mad. He would surely hunt down Wiley. At the same time you were scared. This dude showed up out of nowhere and now is seemingly everywhere you go.

If you didn't tell Embry and something happened, he would be really upset with you. What better person to protect you from a potential stalker than the love of your life that conveniently can shift into a intimidating wolf.

"Y/n? Are you even listening to me?"

You snapped out of your thoughts and looked to see Em wiping his hands off on an old red rag, "I fixed it."

"Thanks babe. Im sorry I wasn't paying complete attention. I really appreciate that. I appreciate everything you do for me."

Embry smiled before reaching down to give you a quick kiss, "I'd do anything for you, lovie." He began bending down to collect his tools.

You blushed and stood up, debating internally on whether to tell him or not. He deserved to know. It was a matter that was pressing. You leaned against the Blazer and crossed your arms.

"If I tell you something, promise not to go wolf mode?"

Embry's body tensed up. He knew that whatever you had to say wasn't going to appeal to him. You never really joke about him going all out wolf. Also you were more clingy than usual, which he wasn't complaining, but you kept asking for him to stay over.

"You can't start with that."

"Please"

Embry turned to you and let his eyes take you in. You seem stressed out and worried. He hoped it was from nothing that he had done. He was beginning to feel panicked.

"hun, whatever it is, tell me. You are starting to really freak me out right now."

"About a month ago I saw this random guy around our age. We grabbed at the same thing and we introduced ourselves. His name is Wiley. Anyway I keep seeing him everywhere I go like to the point that it is uncanny. He shows up to stores that I am at, the gym, and he will come into the flower shop when I'm working. I swear I even have seen his car go past here."

Embry began breathing heavily, "He's stalking you?"

"I don't know- i mean maybe. He seems nice so I don't really know what to think. It's just that I'm a paranoid person and its happening so much that it seems planned." You stopped as something dawned on you.

"what? What is it?"

"The other day fresh flowers were picked and were sitting in my porch. Was that you who did it?"

Embry shook his head no and gripped his hands into fists "I'll beat his ass if he even gets near you again. I'll put an end to this."

"This is what I was afraid of! I don't want you to hurt him."

"Baby, he's stalking you! He found your house and picked flowers! That's trespassing! Who knows what he will do? Until we get this figured out, you're staying at my place."

"That I agree with..." You walked closer and wrapped your arms around his torso. You were scared and wanted comfort from the person who gave it to you the best. This issue had been on your mind for weeks.

He snugly held you, his hands rubbing your back affectionately, "why didnt you tell me about this earlier?"

"I didn't want to upset you. I didn't think much of it until his truck slowly went by the other week. That's why I've been spending so many nights with you. You just make me feel safe." Your voice cracked, your eyes refusing to meet the warm brown ones that are your home.

He kissed the top of your head, "I will always keep you safe, babylove."

Together you two packed a few bags to take over to his shared house with Jacob. When arriving Embry had you go take a soothing bath because those always calmed you down.

Embry explained the situation to Jacob, a few growls leaving his throat at the thought of some creep tracking you down. His pure and beautiful imprint was being followed and that pissed him off to the very core. You were his lover to protect. He kept you safe from supernatural creatures and he would be dammed if it was a human that got to you. Jacob was understanding and vowed to help put an end to it all.

Jacob left to go see his imprint, Heather, so it was just you and Embry in the house. You put on embrys large t-shirt and walked into the livingroom to see him laying on the couch. He lazily opened his arms so that you could snuggle in with him.

"I feel utterly relaxed, as if nothing in the world could bother me... I thought maybe it was because I wasn't home alone, but it's not that. It's you. Being around you takes away all my problems and fears." You confessed, fingers tapping against his bare chest.

He blushed, hurrying his face into your neck, "Im glad. You know, it's the imprint bond. You feel it too, just not as strong."

"no, I think it's as strong."

He scoffed, rubbing circles on your hip, "you have no idea how much I love you. My heart literally beats for you, y/n. It has since we were kids."

Now it was your turn to blush. You knew embry before he turned into a wolf, you actually had known him since you were born. Your mom's were life long best friends and that prompted you two being together all of the time.

Embry was your rock growing up, your best friend. Years spent with him made you slowly realize that you loved him. Neither of you would admit it until he imprinted on you. It seemed that Billy Black, your dad, and Harry Clearwater had bet on it happening since you guys were toddlers. It evident that you two were made for one another.

"You're my world, Em."

He hummed in agreement. He nudged your hand and you knew what he was up to. A grin made its way onto his face as you slid your hand under his shirt, letting it run up and down his back.

"You're a spoiled boyfriend." You mumbled, scratching his back lightly.

He sighed in contentment, "I'm aware. And I thank my ancestors for it everyday.... I don't know what my life would be like if something happened to you and I didn't have you anymore."

"Don't even think about that kind of thing."

Embry slightly pulled away. He stood up and walked to the window.

"Em-"

"quiet." He put his finger up to silence you.

Your heart sank for a second at his tone but realized he was trying to watch something out the window. Something that had his full attention because he failed to sense you coming up beside him.

He noticed you and pulled you closer to his side. The light blue truck was parked across the road and there sat Wiley inside it. Your heart stopped.

"Embry, I know what you're thinking, but don't. I fear being left alone." You said, tightly grabbing his hand.

"And what? Continue to let him do this shit? He is right there, babe. I am going to confront him right now before he has the chance to slip away."

As he fumbled around the dimly lit room to put shoes on, you were shaking. You feared the outcome of this situation. Embry was level headed but when it came to your safety and well-being he wasn't. you hoped Wiley would be gone before Embry got outside.

#embry call imagine #embrycallimagine #twilightimagine #twilight imagine

[izzyphantomgamer]

Episode Ignis.

A consideration of Ignis Scientia and his Episode.

I apologize if this is not my usual ridiculous post, but I wanted to talk about Ignis, a small rant of how I felt through all of this. If you want to read a sad post then please do, listen to the OST ‘Solidarity’ if possible.

"I'm afraid I must ask for your forgiveness"

Those words opened the Episode. It takes no genius to know how tragic his story is, perhaps all of us cried but the more I repeated the playthrough, the more I realized how unaware I was the first time I saw it.

 "I'm more worried about Noct. I'll find a way to the altar, but I need you to keep the enemy distracted."

"Be safe."

Being thrown into the water from a falling building that collided with an airship was never the easiest thing, but he had no time to wonder if the others, nor if he, himself, was alright. The moment he opened his eyes from the collision, he only had one thing in his mind: Noctis.

 Ignis "I need your help: I fear Noct is in danger."

Camelia "As in the entire city of Altissia. In case you haven't taken a look around. He and his 'girlfriend' are probably long gone."

Ignis "No, I made a promise to keep him safe - a promise I intend to keep!"

Camelia "How noble. I'll see what my men can do - but I won't promise anything."

This was the start of it – the change in his personality that we never expected. The side of Ignis that we never saw before, but nothing could prepare us for what was about to come.

 Ignis "Wait, I need to go to the altar. I need a boat."

Commander "Have you lost your marbles?"

Ignis "No - but we'll lose the King if we don't act."

Noctis is the future King of Lucis and it was his job to protect him and guide him, he was his royal retinue. ‘We’ll lose the King if we don’t act’ I believe that behind those words, lies something deeper. Ignis was not there to save Noctis, the One True King; he was there to save Noctis, his brother. He was not there to save him because it was his duty, he was there to save him because losing Noctis was unthinkable for him.

 Prompto "... Do you copy?"

Ignis "..."  

Gladiolus "Ain't a hard question, Iggy. Do you copy - yes or no?"

Ignis "Yes, I copy."

Gladiolus "Then speak up next time. Look: I'm just as worried as you are, but we can't go losing our heads. If we wanna save Noct, we've gotta keep it together."

Ignis "Yes, I suppose you're right."

Prompto "We'll keep moving. Hang in there, Iggy."

Ignis "I will... Thanks."

He was in a panic, his mind was racing. The once calm and sensible man that achieved all of his objectives through a clear and efficient manner, it was all disappearing. All he had in mind was to save Noctis and the fact that he was unsure how or if he made it in time made him apprehensive to the point that all he knew was to fight through the crowd of soldiers that prevented him from reaching the altar.

 "Hang on, Noct... I'm on my way."

He ran through the streets, he fought through hundreds of enemies, all alone at first, he tried to find a solution while aware that he had no time to lose. He continued to move, no concern of how much his body was in pain or how exhausted he felt. He would never let anything stop him.

 Ignis "Noct, didn't choose to become King, his ascension was ordained by the Crystal, it wasn't mere happenstance."

Ravus "It must have been a mistake, one that must be corrected."

Ignis "You of all people must understand how Noct feels: bereft of both parents and forced to carry on despite losing those you love. You both feel that pain!"

Despite all he went through that day, it was far from the end. He fought Ravus to save Noctis, he did all he was able to, he tackled him to the ground as he felt his body no longer able to do much because of the fatigue, but even so Ignis nevertheless continued to fight until he was no longer able to stand, while he still had all of Noctis’ pain in his mind, all the suffering he went through. It was evident at that point, about how much Ignis deeply cared for him.

 "I swore an oath to stand with Noctis and keep him safe. Whatever it takes, I will protect him!"

"This world means nothing to me. Do with it as you wish."

"But I refuse to let Noctis sacrifice his life to save ours. I won't let you take him away!"

"Even if it costs my own life to save him... I will pay that price!"

This is the point where we all realized how reckless he was when Noctis was in danger, how he was ready to sacrifice his life, not for the King of Lucis, but for his brother Noctis that he wanted to save. All that talk about the One True King that needed to be saved for the sake of the world, but to damn with that. He acted not out of the sense of obligation as a Crownsguard officer to sacrifice his life just for the sake of his title, but out of his own selfishness to permit Noctis to see and live another day.

But that was not all – the moment before Ardyn was able to hurt Noctis, the panic and fear on the face of Ignis was too visible to be missed, how helpless he felt to see the one dear to him get hurt while he was pinned on the hard ground. It was too much for him to take, it came to the point that he was almost reduced to tears, but to his relief Ravus managed to save him in time.

 "Please... forgive me..."

The Ring of Lucii, we know the price to pay for the power it gave for those who are not of royal blood and he certainly paid, how much pain he felt, how much of a torture the sensation was, how his consciousness almost left him but he swung his daggers still, he carried on and neglected the pain to make sure that Ardyn never got too close to Noctis. He was supposed to give up his life in exchange for the power he obtained, but his desire to protect Noctis surpassed all else and he it allowed him to live, but not without a cost – his sight. To live in the dark, to fail to see how Noctis got older and how he changed. He was never able to see that. But what use did he have for his sight if Noctis got killed? He told himself that, I honestly do believe it.

 "Where's Noct? Is he... alright?"

The first question once he was able to speak through his ragged breath. Again, all that was important for him was his safety. He fought a whole army of soldiers, their magitek armor, bestiary, Caligula, Ravus and Adyn but all he wanted was to know how he was, that was all he asked. If Noctis was alright then somehow he’d managed.

 Ignis "Perhaps it might be best if we brought our journey to a close."

Noctis "Why?"

Ignis "It's just that... uhm... we've already lost so much... too much"

Noctis "That's exactly why I have to keep going - because if I give up now, their sacrifices would have been for nothing! And you... you, of all people... You should know that better than anyone."

Ignis "The decision is yours to make and yours alone. But do remember we will stand with you always and help you bear your burdens. Don't be afraid to let us share the load. I'll be back."

How naïve I was, to think that he wanted end the journey because of all the pain he went through and because of his lack of sight when the reason was far greater. He saw a vision, the future that awaited Noctis – the future where he was to sacrifice himself to defeat Ardyn. He did not want to see that, he did not want to live a day where he was no more. He wanted Noctis to be away from that danger. He wanted to be selfish and convince him to end their journey. Although, who was he to force Noctis to be quiet while Eos was in danger. He was aware and it pained him to accept the reality he was confronted with.

It makes me think how much he cared for Noctis since the day he met him, through simple tasks like cleaning after him, making sure he had a proper meal and attending meetings in his stead. As his mother died and his father was busy as the King, he took it upon himself to make sure that he became a proper person despite sometimes being at a loss of how to do it. It makes me think even more how much he sacrificed for Noctis, how much he cares for him and how hard he worked to overcome his blindness for the day of his return. Sometimes, what gets me is at some point in the game, Gladio said that Ignis wanted his world to be crystal clear, but now all he saw was the dark.

I’m just glad I was able to get this off my chest.

#final fantasy xv #final fantasy #final fantasy ignis #ignis #ignis scientia #episode ignis #sad post #noctis lucis caelum #sacrifice #ff xv ignis