#nunnery au

[kmclaude]

nunnery AU art

payback is a b...

[mistoffeleesisawitch]

A Rhaenicent Blood Marriage except it’s a mix of the Valyrian blood magic and whatever Lovecraftian shit is going on with the Hightowers.

[queers-gambit]

The Blood of the Covenant

prompt: ( requested ) being raised alongside the Twins, you naturally fell on path to become a contract killer - much to Tangerine's chagrin. when you're recruited onto the Bullet Train, too, emotions cum into play - get it?

pairing: Tangerine x female!assassin!reader

fandom masterlist: Bullet Train

word count: 9.4k+

note: this isn't very good, i'm very sorry.

warnings: codename Olive 'cause it's cute, cursing, Lord's name in vain, mild spoilers, AU timeline (obviously), Tan is still Aaron, Lem is still Brian, emotional confessions, mild depiction of violence, very short and poorly written smut, canon-typical violence, mentions of blood, needles / weaponized venom [The Hornet], and dead bodies.

"So, you get on the train, you find the Twins, and you get off - it's easy," Constance, your handler, scolded through the phone. "Seriously, why are you so nervous? It's like the most lowkey job you've ever been assigned."

"Yeah, you're just forgetting the part where I have to locate some generic looking briefcase on this God forsaken train, make sure they have the White Death's son, then get them all off - "

"Okay, see, now you're making it all complicated," Constance laughed again. "C'mon, Olive, tell me the truth."

"What truth?"

"You're nervous," she sang in your ear.

"No shit, I'm nervous!" You snapped, connecting the bluetooth device and shoving your phone in your pocket as the train jetted into the station. "Do you have a good reason I shouldn't be?"

"Um, how about the fact that you guys grew up in the orphanage together, making you practically family, and that they're gonna be overjoyed to see you?"

"Yeah, right!" You laughed, "You don't know the guys, and it's been, like, 4 years since I've seen them. They're scary overprotective and if they know what I'm doing professionally, they'll probably handcuff me to one of them and deliver me to some nunnery."

"Are those even a thing anymore?"

"Fuck if I know," you snorted.

"You're overthinking, Olive, just breathe," she advised. "Look, the intel is good. The White Death is up to something and if you wanna see the Twins alive, you need to get them off the train."

"Cool, so fuck the case and the son?"

"Nope, you wanna get paid, you gotta grab them, too."

You sighed, the train doors opening. "Well, here goes fucking nothing..."

"I've literally never heard you this nervous, it's kinda cute."

"Constance, is there a reason we're still on the phone?" You asked, nodding at the people you passed and excusing yourself as you searched the train cars slowly.

"I wanna hear how this goes!"

"Call you when I have the payloads, 'mmkay?"

"No," she whined, "c'mon, lemme hear the reunion!"

"Goodbye, Constance, as always, you're a giant pain in my ass."

"Oh, like you're a basket of roses. Fine, go, deprive me of this. Fucking killjoy!"

"Talk soon - and if not, I'm probably shot."

"Well, just... Don't get shot?"

"Spot-on advice, love."

"You'd be lost without me."

"Bye, you idiot."

"Seriously, don't get shot!"

Disconnecting the call, you chuckled to yourself and dodged around a family. However, right behind them was a man in a bucket hat and thick black framed glasses carrying a silver briefcase, who bumped your shoulder. "Oh, I'm so sorry, ma'am," he instantly apologized in English.

"No worries," you smiled, nodding at him. "Have a nice ride."

"You, too," he nodded back, and you turned to continue on your way, missing the way the man eyed you - and gulped when he caught sight of the gun in your waistband. He scurried on his way.

You entered another train car, pausing to take a long breath as you surveyed the patrons. You moved onto the next section, the train rocketing into motion. However, as you approached the next set of doors, you gasped and skirted to a halt when two men lingered in the connection.

"Oh - what the bloody fuck are you doing here!?" Aaron snapped instantly.

"Well, hello to you, too, love," you grumbled with a curled lip.

"Hi, doll!"

You grinned at Brian, greeting him with enthusiasm; offering a giant hug, him kissing your cheek noisily. "So good to see you," you told him when you pulled back.

"Tan," Brian snapped, glaring at him as he gestured at you. "C'mon, mate, don't be like this - 's been years!"

"Yeah, Tan," you pouted dramatically.

"You even know what Tan stands for?" Brian snickered.

"Nope."

"Tangerine," then he pointed at himself, "Lemon."

Aaron's blue eyes rolled, sighing deeply before nodding. "Right, right, c'mere, then, you," he opened his arms, and when you stepped into his embrace, you swear, it was like returning home. After a beat, you felt his arms tighten and his nose press into your neck, subtly inhaling; making you give him a tighter squeeze.

"Oh, Jesus, all right, c'mon, I'm standing right here," Lemon groaned, you and Tan parting, but only saddling beside him with his arm around your neck and yours anchored around his waist.

"So," you chirped, shifting your body weight, "you two have the case, I assume? And the Son - "

"Oh, you've gotta be fuckin' joking," Tangerine snapped, glaring at you as you grinned mischievously. "How's it you know about any of that?"

"She's on assignment, felt the gun when I hugged her," Lemon snickered as if it were common knowledge. "How long you've been working, love? Why didn't you ring us? Talk to us 'bout this?"

"I needed to?"

"No, but just for a bit of a catch-up?" Lemon shrugged. "You know, tell us you're doin' some dangerous job instead of teaching? Aren't you supposed to be a teacher now?"

"This pays better."

"Not gonna get paid a single dime, the fuck's wrong with you?" Tan snapped, dropping the arm from your neck to round on you in anger. "You're seriously on a job?"

"Mhm," you hummed with a smile. "And why won't I see a dime, exactly?"

"'Cause you're not doin' this fuckin' job, love, for fuck's sake!"

"Tan, just calm down," Lemon sighed, holding a hand to him as the man with a pornstache paced in a small circle; wiping a hand around his mouth. "Love? What's the job you're on?"

"Mh," you nodded, "well, 's a bit unprofessional to tell you, but fuck it. I'm to collect the case, grab the White Death's son, and get you two off this fucking train."

"Oh - for fuck's - "

"Tan!" Lemon laughed. "Mate, take a breath! She's obviously qualified if she's made it this far, got this assignment."

You grinned, "You ever hear rumors about that shit that went down in Medellín?"

"Don't tell me," Lemon gasped. "That was you?"

"Most of it wasn't intentional, but I'm pretty good at improvising," you teased. "Anyways, I heard about Bolivia, you two are certainly making names for yourselves, aren't yah?"

"Well," Lemon smiled bashfully, waving you off.

"Right, so, we're approaching the next station," you pointed out, clasping your hands in front of you and smiling, "so, where's the Son?"

"Oh, uh, up there," Lem pointed to the next train car.

"Mhm, good, good, good, and the case?" There was an awkward silence as Lemon and Tangerine exchanged long looks. "Hey? Where's the case, Brian - I mean, Lemon?"

"Well, uh... Funny thing, yeah?" He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck.

"Tan? Sweetheart?" You smiled prettily, reaching for his hand to halt his pacing, "Where's the case?"

"It's..." Tan trailed, seeing Lemon shaking his head vigorously from behind you. He sighed when he met your sweet eyes and admitted, "It got lifted, love."

"Oh, you fuckin' simp," Lemon groaned.

"What? Wanted me t'lie? She's got that sixth sense for that shit, mate!" Tangerine defended.

"No, you're just whipped!"

"She's looking for the same bloody case, she'd know eventually!"

You let go of Tan's hand to answer your ringing phone, holding a finger to them both, "Hey, Constance, now's not a great time."

"What's wrong?" She asked.

"Nothing, just reuniting with the lads," you eased. "I'll call you when we have the case and kid, and are off the train, all right? And if I don't - "

"Yeah, yeah, you're shot. Fine, just..." She sighed. "Listen, you three aren't the only ones on assignment."

"Hmm?" You perked your brows.

"Yeah, so, Maria's got an agent in the field. Also, I just got intel that the Wolf's there, no idea why. The Hornet, too."

"You're fuckin' joking, right?"

"Nope. They popped up on our travel itineraries. They used pseudonyms naturally, but we have their records."

"Fuck me, all right... All right, yeah, we'll handle it."

"No, don't handle anything! Remember Rome!?"

"Rome wasn't my fault!" You snapped, taking a deep breath. "But it did piss the Hornet off, we'll be careful."

"Get off the fucking train, Olive!"

"When the packages are secured, love, yeah, all right, gotta go, bye-bye now!"

"Olive - "

You hung up and put your phone in your back pocket, sighing at the Twins. "Well, this just got more interesting. We aren't the only ones on this job," you frowned.

"What?" Lem's face dropped.

"Wait, what happened in Rome?" Tangerine asked, offering you his signature look of annoyance: a frown and pinched brows.

"Oh, nothing that was my doing," you waved off. "So, to recap, the case is missing, but the Son is secured?"

"Zip tied to his seat," Lemon nodded.

"Mhm, and where was the case?"

"I had it stashed, but..." He eyed the luggage tossed around the compartment.

"Now, it's gone. Okay, okay," you nodded, "so, just for future reference, don't stash the goods, all right? Terribly unprofessional, darling."

"Yeah," he nodded sadly.

"Oh, so when she says it - "

"She doesn't get all smart with me!" Lemon cut Tangerine off with a warning finger as he paced in the compartment. "The fuck do we do? We just passed the station - the fucker could've gotten off - I mean!"

"Easy," you spoke softly, but the panic was set between the two. You sighed when Lemon turned frantic, leaning back on the wall as Tangerine stood beside you.

"No, no, look, we got his son," Lemon reminded. "That was our job."

Tangerine shared a look with you, making you chide, "Stay calm. You get nowhere bein' so up-tight." His expression melted into something close to reprimanding, but he sighed and faced Lemon.

"Our job was to come back with his son and his $10 million. Three words to describe our situation right now, do you know what they are?"

Lemon glared, "Sure do." Then held up three fingers, dropping one for each word, "Saved - his - son. Hmm? Family's more important than money, right?"

"Do you honestly not know who the White Death is?"

"Yeah, I know who the White Death is. You just told me five minutes ago," Lemon snipped, making you sigh as he rambled an explanation.

"Why do I even bothering forwarding you the briefings?" Tan interrupted, exasperated by the entire ordeal.

There was a pause and Lemon replied softly, almost sheepishly, "I do not know. You get briefings, love?"

"Mhm, but my handler likes giving me the CliffNotes," you eased with a small shrug.

When Tangerine turned from you two to face the train's door, staring out the window, you and Lemon shared a look - his hand raising as if to wave off Tan's theatrics. In return, you just held a placating hand to him, letting Tangerine start his story about the White Death. When he got through his tale, he took a long breath, sighing deeply, musing as he turned back to you both, "So, let me put this bluntly. There's this soulless, psychotic leader with the largest criminal organization on the planet," then his hands dramatically gestured, "shoved right inside our fucking arse cheeks."

Lemon stared at his partner and then, too, mused, "That motherfucker's definitely a Diesel, then, isn't he?"

"You mention Thomas the Tank Engine one more time, I'm gonna shoot you in the fucking face," Tangerine snapped.

"No, no, he won't, Brian," you stepped in, standing between the two, glancing between them.

"'S Lemon when on the job, love."

"All right, sure, my apologies, Lemon," you agreed, "but he's not gonna shoot you." Lemon hummed and pointed at you in triumph, mocking Tangerine, making you scold, "No, don't do that, either. Your attitude gets us nowhere, right, lads?"

Lemon nodded at you before looking to Tan, asking, "Okay, okay, if-if-if-if he's such a badarse, how come he hired three random operators instead of getting his son back himself?"

"I wasn't hired by the White Death," you smiled, reaching a hand to Tangerine's to hold tightly when you saw his fuse about to blow. "And, you see, he had a wife, Lem."

"What? He had a wife?"

"Yeah," you nodded, ignoring Tan's impending meltdown, "and she was the most important thing in his life, and she died in a car crash. Some reports say it was an accident, some drunk driver... And others say it was an assignation attempt." You missed the look Tangerine sent you, looking you up and down, relating to the 'most important thing' comment. "But since then, he's not left the compound," you finished.

"An unnamed locomotive might say there's a lesson to be learned," Lemon quipped, irritating Tangerine.

"And you know what? He didn't hire three - or two," Tan amended, nodding at you, "random operators, Lemon. No, he asked for the best. He asked for the two responsible for the Bolivia job. He asked for pros, who wouldn't fuck up... Three words, Lemon, and now, you, too, sweetheart," he sneered at you. "We - are - "

"Fucked," Lemon finished.

"Oi, listen here, you two Debbie Downers, Christ, all right? Every situation can be remedied," you assured. "Yeah, this is - this isn't ideal, but between us three, we can figure something out. Yeah? Talkin' about you two bein' the best," you squeezed Tan's hand, "surely we can figure something out. C'mon, when do we give up?"

Lemon cocked his head, asking, "All right. Yeah, sure, but what's your codename? Can't go 'round callin' you your government. Would blow our covers."

"Olive," you smiled brightly, Tangerine scoffing. "Fuck off," you snapped instantly.

"Right, well, Olive's right," Lemon deflected, not giving Tan time to retort. He reached out to adjust Tan's suit lapel and tie, "We rescued his fucking son. Huh? We find the fucker who took the briefcase, make things right, be like it never happened," he laid out for you two, and when you tired to release his hand, Tangerine held on tighter - not letting you go.

Tangerine took a deep breath in, letting it out as he pulled out his gun with his free hand, flipping it open, checking the full round of bullets present, and snapping it closed before storing it again. He glanced at you before asking Lemon, "Still got that vest on yah?"

"No, vests give you a false sense of security," Lemon answered. "You might, like, get shot in the neck."

"Yeah, it also stops you from getting shot in the chest, but I guess you missed that episode of Thomas, did'yah?" Tan quipped, not letting Lemon time to answer because he looked at you again. "Bein' said, you are gonna stay put, doll face."

"Excuse the fuck outta me?"

"Heard me," he snapped. "You're sitting this one out."

"I don't remember being hired by you," you dropped his hand to cross your arms. "You don't get a say in what I do - this isn't like back in the group home where you two bossed me 'around, playin' big brother."

"It's exactly like that, 'cause we've been doin' this a helluva lot longer - "

"And I was still hired to do this job, so, I suggest you shut the fuck up and watch yourself."

"I'm tryna keep you safe!"

"We're not children anymore, Aaron!" You snapped. "You don't get to dictate what I do anymore! Christ, all right? I was hired for this job, just like you two, so you can either get with the program and we work together, or just shut the fuck up - 'cause I'm not sitting a Goddamn thing out!"

"Jesus fuck, could cut the sexual tension between you two with a fucking plastic spoon." Lemon scoffed, rolling his eyes; earning two identical glares for either of you. "Fine, whatever, keep denying whatever this is - but look, you two done?" Lemon sighed, and when you nodded, he nodded back. "Right - nut up or shut up, bruv."

You went to follow Lemon out, but Tan snagged your arm before you got a step too far. He kept you at his side, laying your arm in the crook of his, and in-sync, he and Lemon fluffed their outerwear as you three stalked up the train aisle. You licked the pad of your thumb and wiped a bit of grime from the corner of Tan's mouth, his smirk directed at you as you approached the Son secured in his seat.

"Well, so, slight change of plans," Tan announced when you reached the seating. Lemon reached out to alert the seemingly sleeping Son, but the movement of his shoulder caused the lad's head to lull towards you three - making each of you recoil instantly.

"Oh!" You three groaned in union, seeing the rivers of blood streaming down the Son's eyes. He was dead as a doornail, some would say.

You stood watch as Tan and Lem leaned in closer to observe the dead body, Lemon commenting, "First his wife, now his son? That's a lot of white deaths."

Tangerine took a deep breath in, you reaching out to squeeze his elbow. "Sit down," you hissed quietly, "before you draw attention to us standing around a fucking corpse!"

"You're on watch!" Tan shot back.

"Can't do shit if you two are just staring at him! Fuck's sake, sit! You're so suspicious, aren'y you meant to be an agent?"

You pushed Lemon into the seat next to the Son and then Tan into the seating beside the window so you could claim the outside seat beside him. "We gotta disguise the body," Tan whispered, whipping out his handkerchief. You watched him dab the material to his tongue, reaching across to start cleaning the blood while Lemon looked around for anything to help.

"Hang on, hang on," he rushed, Tan pausing when a souvenir cart was approaching and pushing the lad's head towards the window. "Could we get a pair of them glasses, please?" He asked the kind attendant. "They look real fun."

The pretty lady nodded and handed over the oversized toy glasses, Lemon forking over a simple note and insisting the change be kept. You thanked the attendant in her native language as she passed, and after doing a look up and down again, nodded, "All right, go."

"Any fuckin' idea what happened?" Lemon muttered.

"No," Tan snapped.

"Looks like The Hornet's work," you whispered. "Yeah, see, her specialty are poisons and venom, most notably, that of the Boomslang snake." You smirked, "Anyone see the news recently? A Boomslang went missing earlier..."

Tan pulled the lad's head back and continued cleaning the blood off, needing to raise outta his seat to finish the job. Lemon offered, "Here, mate, try these. They're them Momonga glasses."

"The fuck is a Momonga?" Tan sneered through a small panicked pant, taking the toy and settling them on the Son's face.

"Japanese anime kid's show," you offered softly.

"Comes on after Thomas every Thursday," Lemon rushed, gasping, "oh, shi - " when the Son's head dropped. Tan and Lem fixed him to look as if he was only sleeping by leaning his head on the window.

"Thought you two were masters of disguise?" You teased.

"Shut it, darling, please," Tan snipped with a sigh. "All right, we need to split up - there's a lot of train to cover."

"What're we doing?" You asked, standing when Tan gestured you out of the way.

"Gonna find whoever has the case - probably the same nut job who killed the kid," he seethed. "The Hornet, you said?" He asked, watching you nod. Standing as a trio in the middle of the train aisle, you three agreed to split up and search for the case, but Tan insisted you come with him, "as back-up."

"You seriously need it?" You chuckled.

"No, but I wanna keep an eye on yah," he rolled his eyes.

"Shouldn't someone stay with the body?" You wondered.

"He's not gonna get any deader."

"Is that even a word?" You asked Lemon, giggling when Tangerine rolled his eyes and snatched your hand to follow after him.

You and Tan had scoured the entire train, but had zero luck. The only direction the two of you had was from a young girl with a crisp bob haircut in first class, who told Tan she saw a man with black frame glasses with their desired case. Your mind flashed back to earlier, remembering the blonde man and how he had a briefcase. It must've been their briefcase.

He must've just lifted it when you boarded and accidentally ran into him. You hated how foolish you felt, but there was no way you could've known that was the case you were after. Still, you felt a pang of disappointment in yourself - some sick desire to impress your brothers with your skill, to prove to them you're capable of being in this line of work. That you weren't that little girl in the orphanage anymore, but a woman grown who was capable of making her own decisions and having greater purpose.

"Hey," you paused Tan in another connection that lead to the next train car, "you go ahead and update Lemon, I'm gonna pop into the loo."

"I'll wait," he nodded, his phone ringing. "Sorry, love, just a minute. 'S fucking business."

You only nodded and slipped into the bathroom, doing your business, washing your hands, and when you emerged, you jumped back slightly in shock when the Momonga mascot was standing right there in the doorway. You peaked to your right, and in the next train car, through the window, spied Tangerine on his phone, the car mostly empty to your left.

"You need in here?" You asked the mascot, but it just stared at you. "I mean, d-do you need help outta that God awful costume?" More silence. "Riiiight, well, this is weird as fuck. Soooo... I'm just gonna... Go..." You mumbled, slipping out of the bathroom, but was instantly blocked from Tan's view. "The fuck? Oi, c'mon, mate, my friend technically gave you the plushie back." More silence. "Look, you creepy motherfucker - "

But you gasped when the plush mascot shoved you backwards, forcing you to stumble into the automatic door leading to the empty train car - yelping when it opened and you fell backwards.

"Fuck! Goddamnit, that hurt," You snapped, rolling to your feet as the human-sized plushie waddled towards you; the back of your head throbbing from impact and the automatic doors closing to trap the pair of you. "What the fuck, mate? What'd I do? The fuck you want?"

When the oversized head was removed, your mouth went dry. "Remember me, bitch?" The Hornet seethed.

"Ah, fuckin' Christ."

The Hornet smirked, "You've seen my face, you know what that means? I gotta take you out. You've evaded me too long."

"Rome wasn't my fault!" You barked instantly, watching her begin to maneuver out of her costume.

"You got my partner killed, bitch!"

"It was an accident!"

"Bullshit, bitch!" She raged, shedding her mascot costume to reveal a train attendant's uniform - wondering how long she'd been waiting for this opportunity if she was prepared to this level. "You had a hit list, we were on it - "

"Oh, fuck off, as if you've never been given orders!"

Her neck cracked as she tossed the costume to an empty seat. "Time to get my revenge," she grit, "bitch."

"Learn some new insults, my God, you're so fuckin' boring. Throw in some 'cunts' or even call me a 'arsehole', just lay off the 'bitches'," your eyes rolled, dodging the Hornet's first flying fist and nearly stumbling off your feet. You exchanged blows, dancing around one another, grunting, growling, heaving for breath, trying to incapacitate the other. On a particularly hard push, the Hornet managed to dislodge your gun and send it under a set of seats.

"Not so tough now, are yah, bitch?" She laughed sarcastically.

You wiped a small dribble of blood from your lip, panting to heave your shoulders up and down. "All right, you asked for this. Bring it on - bitch!" You laughed right back, the Hornet lunging forward. However, you missed the way she pulled out a prefilled syringe and tried to stab you with it; luckily evading the injection.

"Know what's in here?" She taunted. "Boomslang venom! Yeah, that's right. Highly potent, hits your system in 30 seconds, making you bleed from every orifice - "

"I know, you stupid fucking wanker! I watch the bloody news! I went to college! I'm educated enough to know!"

The doors opened again, revealing Tangerine. "Fuckin' hell!" He snapped, "You all right, Olive!? Hey?"

"Stay back, Tan, this bitch is mine!"

The Hornet wailed as she launched at you again. You were battered and beaten, the other woman lobbing you into furniture, tables, and train walls - causing small cuts to form on your unblemished skin. Yet still, you barked at Tangerine to stay back, that you had this.

You and the Hornet ended up on the floor, trying to one up each other. However, luck was not on your side because the Hornet had you pinned and she simply dropped the syringe into the flesh of your hand. You didn't need to think too deeply, you just rolled over, snatched up the syringe, and stabbed her, too - exposing her to the venom by pushing the syringe's plunger. You both stared at one another with wide eyes, panting.

"30 seconds before the venom does its thing," you taunted, knowing that any good assassin kept the antidote on their person - just in case. Her eyes narrowed and tongue swept over her front teeth, weighing her options; eyes locked in a stalemate, daring the other to make the first move. Do nothing, you both die... Reveal the antidote, only one will die.

She reached into her breast pocket and pulled out a new syringe, you lunging for it with impressive lithe to stab into your neck and push the plunger. She seethed, "You bitch."

You stumbled back a step, colliding with Tan's chest as neither of you could look away as the Hornet's eyes went red with blood filling every cavern and crevice. "Oh, shit, that doesn't look good," you winced in fake sympathy. "You've got another syringe, right? A back-up?"

She warbled and wheezed, "What do you think, bitch?"

"What's with the whole bitch thing?" Tan asked in your ear. "She know any other words?"

You only shrugged as blood poured from the Hornet's eyes, filling her lungs to drown her from the inside. "No second antidote? Ah, that's just poor planning on your end, love," you taunted when the Hornet dropped to the ground, choking, blood leaking from her mouth. "I mean, you only carry one antidote? I thought you were supposed to be a professional? With your choice of weapon being venom, I mean," you laughed a little, "seems pretty stupid."

The Hornet continued to choke, trying to crawl up the aisle, but only getting a few feet before the effects of the venom took hold fully. She flopped onto her back, the blood congealing in a thick and tacky substance; staining the stolen uniform and floors of the train.

"What the fuck was that?" Tan snapped, turning you to face him. "Are you hurt!?" He worried, checking you over for visible sign of injury; finding two puncture wounds - one in your neck and one in your hand. You were decorated in soon-to-form bruises, but no bones were broken and you seemed relatively okay besides the small cuts.

"Tan," you soothed, placing your hand over his on your cheek. "I'm all right, I'm fine. She just caught me a little off guard."

"What the hell was that, huh? You got some kinda death wish, is it?"

"It's all part of the job!"

"Like hell, it is! This is why I didn't want you involved - "

"'Cause I could get hurt? Fuck's sake - "

"Yes, all right!" He exploded. "Yes, because you could get hurt! I couldn't forgive myself if something happened to you, and look at yah now! I was on the fuckin' phone and you were fighting this... Wait, who the fuck is that?" Tan pointed at the dead body.

"Mh. The Hornet," you answered with a shrug. "She's been after me since Rome 'bout two years ago. I might be one of the very few who knows what she actually looks like - so, no wonder she wanted me dead. Plus... I might've allegedly, possibly, kinda-sorta got her partner killed. Turns out, he was also her lover and she's been after me since."

His head shook, "So now you have international enemies?"

"I mean, I guess it means I'm good at what I do - else they wouldn't bother to come after me."

"You shouldn't say that with pride! That's not how this works!"

"Tell me how you think it should work, then!"

Tangerine glared, "You shouldn't be involved. You worked too hard to become a teacher, to have a real career, and you threw it all away, for what? For this life?"

"What do you care, Aaron!? Honestly!? 'S been years, you just disappeared from my life! I don't think you have the right to boss me around anymore! We're not fuckin' kids anymore!"

He huffed a sharp exhale, "You seriously don't know? Really that fuckin' oblivious?"

"I can't read minds! Why don't you use your words like a big boy?"

Aaron, one of your longest standing friends and practically your family without blood, just nodded sadly. "I thought it would've been obvious by now," he sighed.

"What're you - "

"I love you," Tan interrupted. "Yeah? I fucking love you."

"Yeah, I know, and I love you, too, Aaron, but that doesn't - "

"No," he interrupted in a snap, face falling, "no, I meant that I'm in love with you. Jesus Christ," his hand wiped down his face, "been in love with you for years now. Maybe it started when you punched Tommy Jenkins in the nose when we were 16, maybe it started when we aged outta the orphanage and got our first apartment together. I don't know when I fell in love with you, but I know I am."

You paused, "A-Are you serious?"

"Deadly. But luckily you've already had a dose of antidote, eh?"

The chuckle you emitted was involuntary. But then, your irritation bubbled, asking, "Why hold it in all this time? And if you were in love with me, why not call? Why abandon me in the first place? I went four years - four, Tan! - without you and Lem, the two people I treasured the most, felt safe with, found a family in. Not a single one of my letters were returned; you deprived me of any phone call, not even a single text! You just disappeared from my life."

He bowed his head, "I had to leave, sweetheart. I couldn't keep yah around."

"Why? Tell me why right now, or we'll go another four years - "

"This job is dangerous, love, bit too dangerous in honesty. You know that, but to have emotional attachments only leads to error and a lot of hurt. I was trying to play it safe, thinking I was protecting you, because if any of our enemies knew how precious you are to me, they'd use you against me - they'd hurt you and I couldn't risk that."

"You can't protect me from everything," you whispered. "Aaron, you and Brian are my family, you always have been. Your whole life, you've protected me from the brutality of life, but you can't protect me from reality any longer. I'm sorry if me working upsets you, but I know what I'm doing, Aaron. I'm not fragile, I won't shatter."

"I know," he sighed, shaking his head. "I know it's irrational, love, but I can't go another day without you. I know it's been four years too long, I thought of you everyday, and never have I had such regret. Walking away from you, doll, it hurt worse than getting shot."

You sighed and avoided his eyes, admitting, "I like to think that in some twisted way, I entered this life in the hope that I'd run into you. Felt like the only way we could see each other since this line of work is so bloody unorthodox."

Tangerine sniffled, "I always wanted to come back, find yah again, but I couldn't risk it. I can't risk you. And listen, if you don't feel the same, that's all right, love, I know I just sprang this one you, but I just needed you to know - "

"Aaron, you need to stop shutting yourself down when you feel vulnerable," you sighed patiently, waiting for him to nod his head silently to indicate for you to continue. "Take a breath and listen to me." Another nod and you revealed, "I've been in love with you, too, since we were teens. I didn't want to disrupt what we have, so I stayed quiet. You and Brian - you're the only ones I care about, the only ones I want in my crazy, chaotic, unpredictable life. Too much time as already passed, we've missed so much, I don't want to miss another minute."

He crowded closer to you, both hands lifting to hold your cheeks and stare into your eyes. "Been waiting ages t'hear that," he whispered.

You smiled softly, "I love you, Aaron. Absolutely, maddeningly, unequivocally in love with you."

He chuckled and returned the sentiment, foreheads brought together before his breath fanned across your lips. He paused to give you time to reject him, but you boldly pushed yourself to meet his lips in a long-awaited kiss that set your heart and soul on fire. Mouths moved in sync, cheeky tongues mingled, teeth gently clanked together as you kissed passionately and without restraint. His hands dropped to hold your waist, your own curling around his neck to gently thread your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck; his curls feeling soft, moisturized, and bouncy.

You were rudely interrupted by your phone, Tan pulling back with a small smirk, "Gonna get that? Might be important."

"Promise 's just Constance," you grumbled, fishing for your phone and stepping away from Tan's embrace. "Hey, love," you greeted.

"Ah! Thank God! You're not shot yet!"

"No, not shot, just stabbed, earned a few bruises but I'm good," you snorted, looking under the seats to locate you gun. "What's up, why're you calling again, I told you I'd call you when I'm good."

"We have new intelligence."

"Lay it on me," you sent Tangerine a look; his face stoic, indicating he was listening intently.

"Your next stop is the last stop that the White Death's men aren't stationed at. If you wanna make a clean getaway, you gotta get off at the next stop. It's your last chance."

You winced, "Uh... About that, so, funny thing..."

"What did you do?"

"You always think the worst of me, I don't always do shit."

"Did you?"

You paused and glanced at the squashed Hornet, shrugging, "Not really, it's just not the cleanest job I've done."

"What happened?"

"You always assume the worst in me."

"You only prove me right."

You chuckled, "Yeah, all right, fair enough. Listen," you sniffled, turning to face Tan, "we don't have the case or the Son..."

"You better fucking find them. After this stop, all others are gonna be too hard to get off at. The White Death has men in position."

"Well... Funny thing, right," you winced, rubbing the back of your neck, "uh, so, it wasn't our fault, but the Son is dead. The Hornet got to him, used Boomslang venom, I got her after so you can register her as deceased."

"Oh, fucking Christ! You fuckin' serious? Please tell me this is just a bad joke."

"Why would I lie?"

You heard Constance take a deep long breath, knowing she was counting to ten in her head to keep her composure. "Okay, Olive, sweetheart," she spoke slowly, "tell me you know where the case is. Please. I need to hear the words."

"Pretty sure Maria's guy lifted it, but no confirmation yet."

"Oh, Jesus fucking Christ! Go fucking find him, get that case, and if you don't make the next stop, call me - there's always a backup plan."

"Let's just do Plan B, it'd save a helluva lotta time."

"Olive," Constance growled, "get the Twins, get the fucking case, and get off the fucking train before you all get fucking shot."

You nodded, "Yeah, all right, love, we're on it."

After hanging up, Tan mused, "So, how's Constance?"

"Uh, yeah, no, she's stressed," you cleared your throat. "Wait, how do you know her?"

"Our handler's collaborated with her before."

"Mhm... Okay, just listen, Aaron, I told you the White Death didn't hire me."

"Right."

"Meaning I need that case and I need you and Lem to get off this train with me. We're gonna get to a safe house - "

"No, no, love, we've our own agenda."

"The Son is dead, the case is missing, your job is literally fucked," you reminded sharply. "However, I can still make it worthwhile if we find the case and get off this train. C'mon, love," you pleaded, "you have to trust me. Please, just - don't go through with the last of this job, it's not gonna end well for anyone. But my way means we all get a chance at safety and keeping our lives."

His head shook, "We won't make it in time."

"We can try."

"We need to find Glasses first - and fucking Lemon."

You agreed.

"Looks like your luck's turned around, Joburg," Lemon sneered, the four of you coming to an agreement to take the case, leave the Son's body for the White Death to find, and get to your safe house.

"If it was up to me, we would've left him," Tangerine growled. "Seriously, love, why the fuck did we save him, too?"

"It was the right thing to do, we were all being set up," you explained, surveying the train station. "All right, c'mon, this way."

"So," Ladybug was heard, "you guys are, like, siblings?"

"Who? Us and Olive?" Lemon snickered, watching the blonde man nod. "Sure, mate, something like that."

"Seem real close, the way she risked her life for you two..."

"Well, they say the blood of the covenant is thicker than water of the womb. 'Course we're gonna look after one another."

The three men followed you, Tangerine keeping a tight hold of the silver briefcase with a train sticker on the handle. When you made it outside the station without incident or interruption, there was a sleek Range Rover waiting at the curb - an old acquaintance of yours leaning on the grill.

"Olive!" The other agent greeted with a grin.

"Gouda," you returned with enthusiasm, hugging the man. "So nice to see you, thanks for doing this."

"Constance calls, I answer," he nodded, eyeing the three other agents behind you. "Huh... See you made some friends, did yah?"

"Something like that," you mused.

"How's it goin', Gouda?" Lemon asked, making your brows pinch.

"You know each other?" Your eyes shifted between the group.

"Unfortunately," Tangerine nodded with a sigh. "Mate..."

"Yeah, fuck you, too, Tangerine," Gouda sneered. "You know, Olive, your friend fuckin' shot me."

"Did you deserve it?"

Gouda paused, "Doesn't matter. All right, whatever, let's get goin', I'm supposed to get you to the safe house."

Everyone piled into the car, you in the passenger seat to give Gouda a rundown on the train's events. Why you needed the safe house. Why you got off before Kyoto, like was agreed upon. He agreed it was all a mess, telling you the team was still gathering information on the White Death's plan - something in motion that would've ended all your lives. Upon arriving at the safe house, you thanked Gouda, him telling you Constance would arrive in a few days to ensure you lot were smuggled out of the country - not trusting other methods as the White Death had associates planted everywhere.

The house was stalked fully with fresh food in the kitchen, a wall of racked weapons, money in a safe, and reinforced panic rooms in the event of an attack.

"Nice, very nice," Ladybug complimented, looking around the place. "Better than what we've got..."

"Pick your rooms, we'll be here a couple days. My handler's gonna work on getting us outta here without the White Death knowing. Maria negotiated terms for you, Mr. Bug, so you're staying with us."

Everyone spread out, finding the bedrooms fully equipped with new clothes and other necessities, like toiletries. Everyone was able to get long, hot showers, and eventually, when you exited the bathroom in a robe with a towel used to dry your hair, you found Lemon sitting on the living room couch - listening intently to the news report.

"Might wanna see this, love," Brian frowned, making room on the couch for you to sit.

"What's up?"

He nodded at the screen, you watching as a Japanese news station reported on a runaway bullet train that obliterated a local town. Your eyes widened, mindlessly translating the segment; Tangerine eventually joining you two. "What're you two watchin'?" He asked softly, standing behind the couch with his hands on your shoulders. From the opposite door that housed a few other bedrooms, Ladybug entered; the news catching his attention, too.

There was a tension in the air that couldn't be described.

"The White Death sent a fucking bullet train off the rails. All those innocent people..." You whispered, camera crews capturing the devastation and destruction caused. You realized, "He set us all up, he was gonna kill us all."

"Thank God for Constance. What the hell did we do to him, though?" Lemon wondered. "I mean, have any of us actually done a job for or against the White Death before?"

"No clue," Ladybug answered nervously, "but whatever we did, really pissed him off if that's his retaliation. What was the motive, though? Why put us all on the same mission? Same train?"

"Sounds like a vendetta," you answered, the room going silent as everyone contemplated your words. "C'mon, lads, 's been a day. Should get some shut eye."

"Yeah, yeah," Lemon sighed, "good idea. You'll let us know when Constance makes contact?"

You nodded in agreement, bidding them all a goodnight before heading for your designated room. It wasn't more than ten minutes later, you sat on the bathroom floor with an array of medical supplies spread around you in an effort to clean your wounds, when a knock sounded at your door. "Come in," you permitted, tending to a decent sized gash in your hairline.

"You all right?" Tangerine asked softly, leaning in the doorframe of your bathroom. He was dressed down in a pair of joggers and a black wife beater.

"Peachy keen, love."

"You know, this image, right here," he gestured to you, the blood drops on the pristine floor, and all the supplies you required, "is why I didn't want you involved."

You nodded slowly, "Yeah, but it's just the name of the game, you know?"

"Need help?"

"No, I'm about done," you sighed, tightening the gauze around your thigh, "but you can help me up, though."

He smirked and offered his hand, helping hoist you to your feet and sigh as he looked you over. You breezed past him, patting his chest under a blood-stained button up; entering your bedroom and dropping onto the bed to rub your tired feet. You watched Tan follow you, a question on the tip of his tongue that couldn't quite take form.

But Tangerine was a man of action, so he abandoned his words and knelt in front of you; caressing your jaw and cheek to sweep his thumb over the apple of your cheek. You were ready to question his unusually soft demeanor when he leaned in and pressed a sultry kiss to your lips - sucking the breath from your lungs.

You hummed in contentment when he pulled back with a small smirk, whispering, "Been wanting t'do that for ages."

"Took you long enough," you breathed, surging forward to wrap your arms securely around his neck and meet in a messy, passionate kiss that made both your heads spin.

Slowly, you felt Tan rise from his position and moved back on the bed to give him room to crawl over you; kiss never ceasing, only a tangled mess of lips, tongue, and teeth. You moaned with greed when his tongue swept against the seam of your lips, being granted access, letting your mouth mingle and dance together in unbridled passion you weren't even aware Aaron could harness.

"Fuck," you whimpered when he detached from your mouth and started down your neck; licking, scraping his teeth, creating a legion of markings as he went. After years of loving him at a distance, this entire ordeal felt surreal; as if in a dream or alternate universe. His hands squeezed your waist before drifting downward, caressing your hips, hoisting your uninjured leg up his hips before grinding his swelling cock into your pantie-covered cunt.

Your hands daintily fumbled with the material of his shirt, quickly shucking the material from his sculpted torso. You knew he was fit, but seeing him bare like this was something else entirely - mouth salivating, but being unable to truly appreciate him in his glory. You were both littered in bruises and cuts, evidence from fighting the entire night; careful with the injuries, happy with the soft, gentle way you caressed one another.

His hands moved to the tie of your robe, pulling the knot to release; able to slowly push the material aside and look down at your exposed flesh. No bra, no shirt, only a pair of panties under that robe. He licked his lips, meeting your eyes again. "C'mere," he whispered, sitting back, "waited too long, fuckin' hell."

You smirked and sat up, the both of you locking eyes and stripping from your cloth barriers as fast as you could. Reaching for him again, you crashed back into the mound of soft pillows, keeping him close; legs spread to accommodate his slender hips, holding his neck and shoulders to keep him where you wanted.

Tangerine grunted when you reached for his cock, stroking him slowly to full mast. Your lips were sticky, wet tongues wagging against one another to create webs of saliva when he pulled back. Gently knocking your hand away, Tangerine shimmied down your body, lips pressing quick pecks anywhere he could reach; pausing at your nipples and biting harshly.

You yelped with pleasure, back arching, Tangerine smirking at the reaction - mouth covering one breast as his hand pawed at the other to let his fingers pinch and tweak your nipple. His tongue flattened against your sternum, looking up to meet your eyes as he continued down your battered body until his face was nestled between your thighs. "Oh, Jesus fuck!" You moaned when he took his first taste.

He hummed, "Exactly my thoughts. Fuckin' hell, tastes bloody delightful - fuck me." He grunted and dove back in, latching his lips around your clit and using the fingers of his dominant hand to plunge knuckle-deep in your sloppy warmth. "That's a good girl," he praised, using two fingers to pump in and out, in and out, in and out - your body twitching as pleasure mounted to make you unable to lay still. "Mhm, look so fuckin' pretty like this - spread out, all f'me. Can't get tired of this sight," he moaned, lapping at your wetness.

"Aaron," you begged, gripping the curls at the crown of his head, grinding your hips up to his mouth. "Oh, God, yes, yes," you encouraged, breathing turning sharp and shrill. For a moment, you completely forgot where you were and why you were in a safe house; reality melting away when fully enraptured in Tangerine. "There, right there, holy shit," you whimpered when he prodded that one special place of your inner walls.

"Gotcha, love, I gotcha," he mumbled, sucking and flicking his tongue against your pearl as he focused fully on that spongey spot; causing a wave of slick to generate on his tongue. He grunted, bicep flexing as he pumped his digits faster and faster; his other hand laid across your lower belly to hold you in place.

"Shit!" You met a long-awaited crescendo, a little embarrassed by how quick you met your end - having been a few months since you were intimate with anyone.

But my God, none of them compared to Aaron. His body was slick with a light sheen of sweat, his mustache scraping your sensitive bud with his fingers still working against you. You tried to wriggle away, but Tan held you in place, his other hand now holding one of your thighs wide for his benefit. You forgot there were other occupants in the house, moaning and whimpering the longer Aaron lapped at your essence and messily fingered you.

You could've cried from the pleasure, pulling on his curls as a second orgasm washed over you. You, too, were now sweating, stomach knotted and legs beginning to shake slightly; thighs closing around his ears as your muscles contracted.

Tangerine chuckled when he pulled back, taking one more nip at your swollen and sensitive clit; sighing in satisfaction as he looked up at you, evidence of your pleasure smeared around his mouth, chin, and mustache. Cheekily, he wiped around his mouth, sucking his fingers clean while you tried to catch your breath.

"Jesus Christ," you chuckled.

"Yeah?"

"Oh, yeah," you grinned, tugging on his curls again to indicate you wanted him back up with you. He didn't waste time to crawl over you, and when in place, you reached for his warm cock to place at your entrance.

"Oi, hang on, gotta rubber - "

"I'm on birth control, we're okay," you rushed. "Unless you're dirty?"

"Nah, love, I don't fuck nobody raw," he smirked, "but there's a first time for everything, huh?" Aaron laughed almost cruelly when he pushed his hips forward and notched his cock's head inside you, pausing a single moment to watch your reaction as he sunk deeper to stretch you out.

Maybe you had been depriving yourself all these years, Tan's cock being a size, length, and girth you've not handled before. Nobody compared, your cunt weeping with joy at finally having a challenge worthwhile; his balls swinging before being trapped between your bodies. He made a noise, a mix of a moan and whimper, readjusting his hold on you so he held one thigh and the other was supporting his weight by your head.

Your hand laid on his waist, the other around his neck; eyes locked in a passionate connection when he began moving. Your mouth opened in shock, huffing for air, unable to look away - blue eyes pinning you in place. His mouth descending onto yours, rolling his hips to create friction; cock head prodding your gummy walls as the muscles in his back and shoulders flexed with each movement. You lifted a hand to hold his cheek, tongues swirling around one another, Aaron increasing his pace a fraction.

Your nails dug into his flesh, leaving trails of raised, red scratches in their wake - yet it was as if he didn't even notice. "Know I love you, yeah?" Aaron whispered, veins in his neck protruding; heart hammering.

"Yeah," you nodded, wanting him impossibly closer, "yeah, Aaron, I love you, too, holy shit."

Maybe emotional intimacy turned you on more than you ever realized. He clenched his teeth, both hands pressed onto the mattress to support himself as he started to thrust faster. "Not gonna last, love, not with the way you're squeezin' me," he warned, a few stray curls falling over his forehead, his golden medallion swinging and knocking gently against your chin. "Jesus, fuck, you feel so fucking good," he rambled, "like you were fuckin' made for me - Goddamnit."

"We're idiots for waiting so long," you moaned.

"Won't ever be that stupid again," he laughed gently, looking down between you to watch himself disappear and reappear in and out of you; coated in your slick, veins of his cock now throbbing as he felt the familiar coil begin to tighten.

His thumb pressed to your clit and rubbed, your moans getting louder and longer; own hands groping your breasts and tweaking your nipples to add to the sensations Tangerine provided. "Baby," you whined, "'M close - "

"Get there, love, c'mon," he begged, "can't hold back - wanted this f'so long, fuck!" One hand slapped his away to let you control your clit, Tangerine grinning, "Naughty girl. Shit, that's a sight, innit?"

"Don't stop!"

Aaron growled, pinching his brows in concentration as he snapped his hips, the sounds of his balls slapping against you clapping around the room; mingling with your moans, groans, whimpers, and the thick smell of sex that hung in the air. "Feels so fuckin' good," he mumbled, straining himself to resist. "Tight and warm, Jesus fuck, my love, you're perfect - so fucking perfect - Goddamnit."

"There, there, there," you chanted, rubbing your clit vigorously while Aaron dissolved his restrain to hammer into your core with sloppy movements. "Yes, oh, fuck, yes, yes, yes! Please, Aaron, yes, right there, baby, please - don't stop!"

"Fuckin' cum for me, c'mon, love, let it go," he growled, teeth scraping over your collarbone before latching in a gentle bite on your shoulder. "That's it, there it is," Aaron moaned, feeling the restrictive flutter of your cunt, "good girl, good fuckin' girl, that's it."

Your mind went blank, unable to process anything other than Aaron's cock still hammering into you at a brutal pace; the entire bed creaking and rattling against the wall. You whimpered, lips parting when he didn't stop, encouraging, "Need you t'cum, baby, please. Wanna feel you in me - want your cum, fucking need it. C'mon, Aaron, c'mon, love, finish in me - fucking fill me, please, I need it."

"Yeah? Need it?" He grunted, cheeks flushing.

"So bad, need your cum so bad!"

He grit his teeth, humping all the faster before the warmth of your cavern became too much. "Shit!" Tangerine shouted, taking two more rolling thrusts before fully sheathing himself in you as rope of sticky, thick cum painted your inner walls. "Oh, holy hell," he panted, keeping himself still but his arms trembling to support himself as he pulled back only slightly. "All right?" He checked, glancing to where you two were conjoined. "You good?"

"Perfect," you nodded, petting up and down his sides as if entranced and in disbelief this happened. He felt so soft all of a sudden, a stark contrast to his stoic and aggressive personality. "You all right?"

He grunted and retracted his hips, cock springing free to let him crash on the bed beside you; both your lungs working in tandem to attempt to even out. "Absolutely, so fuckin' good," he told you, both staring at the ceiling for a moment before his head turned to look at you. He grinned slyly, chuckling, "That really happened?"

"Think so."

"Fan-fuckin'-tastic," he mused. "Stay put a second, love," he whispered, standing from the bed to venture into the bathroom. After a moment, he returned with a warm and damp washcloth, helping you clean up the cum leaking from your cunt; wiping away the messiness. He cleaned himself as well, you crawling under the covers of the bed - not bothering to redress.

When Tan joined you again, he snuggled into the sheets and opened his arm to welcome you into his side. It was weird, you usually hated sleeping with anyone, finding it too hot and restrictive, but laying there with Tangerine, you felt incredibly at peace.

"You know Constance isn't gonna be here for a couple days," you mentioned casually.

"Uh-huh."

"Think I just found our past time."

"Oh, darlin'," Tangerine chuckled, "we're not leavin' this bed."

"We'll have to eat."

"Least that Ladybug twat can do is bring us our food, eh?"

But you paused to consider something, laid on his chest and idly tracing the scars on his beefy chest. "Hey, Aaron?" You whispered.

"Hmm? What is it, love?"

"What's gonna happen when we leave here?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, here, in Japan, we're together... But when we go home t'London, back to reality, what's gonna happen?"

"What? You mean, with us?"

"Yeah."

He snickered, "Why would anything change, love? I'm not just in love with you, here, in Japan, but everywhere - wholeheartedly. So, when we go back, we make this work. No matter what it takes."

"Really?"

Aaron grinned, "'Course, love. Went four long years without even seein' yah, I have no plans t'let you go again - not so soon, not ever." He stretched and tucked his free arm behind his head, "You're stuck with me, doll. That all right with you?"

You grinned up at him, "Perfect by me."

His lips found yours again, starting a very noisy night that made both Lemon and Ladybug clamp pillows over their ears.

requesting rules and masterlist

Bullet Train masterlist

[kidrat]

I also enjoy modern au goth Harrowhark. But canonically she isn’t alternative. She’s like thee extreme of her cultures traditions and stereotypes I’m sorry. She’s not ur emo gf. She’d be ur classmate who wears brown ankle length skirts and might be happier in a nunnery. She has severe mental illness and it is kissing her faith on the mouth and having neurotic religiously obsessive babies. People would say she reminds them of Carrie white except cold and mean. While u were at hot topic she was reciting the bible from memory in a dark room and abstaining. I want to see modern au Harrow where she veils! I want to see Harrow at uni weirding out her classmates with her unmasked autism and shivering little dog demeanour. Yes yes lesbians want her but gay people understand the allure of an offline girlfriend who collects dead animal pieces and ‘displays’ them in rows on her chest of drawers. She doesn’t wanna look hot!! She doesn’t wanna go to the mall!!! She has never seen the craft sorry lesbians she doesn’t own a tv. She also doesn’t own a laptop (she uses the one at the library or school) and that’s the only reason she’s not been the centre of a tumblr discourse. Possibly about unsanitary bloodplay. Maybe just for being an uppity cunt. I wanna see modern Harrow having the time of her life discussing some deeply uncool academic topic in the corner of the room at a close intimate gathering of friends. She’s having the time of her life. She’s wearing a shapeless beige knit jumper. Coronabeth is there in fashion nova

[orkbutch]

So I've been seeing A Viewpoint within the bg3 fandom occuring. And I gotta be honest. I disagree that the characters being bisexual in Baldur's Gate 3 means you cannot headcanon them as other sexualities for your own fandom content purposes. I think that's not reflective of how queer people and their sexual identities actually work, and its just antithetical to how fandom has always functioned, which is an exercise of imagination. I wanna clarify up front: I agree that someone saying that a character Can't or Shouldn't or Was Not Meant To Be bisexual because of whatever reason IS biphobic sentiment. The characters in Baldur's Gate 3 are canonically bi/pan, thats made pretty damn clear when you look through all their content. That's not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about headcanons, au's; the kind of imaginitve play that is very much what fandom creativity is about. If you set a standard in fandom that depicting a character as a certain sexuality is Not Allowed, 1. you're kinda flattening sexuality in a weird way, like personally my sexuality is complicated as fuck and has changed over time, and 2. you're limiting creativity. And I think creativity in fandom is extremely important. It's the whole fun of fandom. Creativity is worth protecting and its worth establishing the nuance between Depicting A Version of Character who is X and Insisting That Character Should Be X in canon. Because like... we meddle with character's identities in fandom all the time. That's what headcanons ARE, they change appearance, social position, career, faith, species, traumatic experience, moral and political alignment, and SO much more. I think limiting what people can headcanon within fandom... is less fun! It's just less fun. Imaginative scope lets you do more, weird fun stuff. It lets you depict more complex interesting characters. Example: my Bad Nun AU. In that, Shadowheart identifies as a lesbian. Why is that? Because I wanted Shadowheart's experience within Bad Nun to specifically explore the history and context of lesbians within nunneries, especially how that manifested post Vatican II. These were also eras when 'lesbian' was more ubiquitos, had a different context and more flexibility; a lot of women that would probably consider themselves 'bisexual' now were identifying as lesbians, were in lesbian communities and events and spaces.

On that note: Flattening sexuality. You're gonna say people CANNOT depict these characters as ANYTHING but bisexual? That is not how most queer people's sexualities work. It simply isn't. I've identified as tons of different shit in my sexuality. I'm still not sure about it. For me half the time my "sexual identity" is just the words I use to communicate what I'm looking for, and that changes depends on What I Want at that time, what I'm looking to explore, my social context, ect. ect. like what. This isn't how sexuality works for real people. How are artists meant to be Creative and imaginatively depict real, complex, queer sexuality if they are restricted to depicting only what is within canon?? This is not how any other part of fandom works. Fandom art should work how all art works. If someone makes shit art, it gets dunked on and ignored for being bad or lazy or lame. If someone did Heterosexual Karlach fanfic, I would be like "what the fuck why" because they made Karlach less fucking cool. Het Karlach would be boring and thats More Egregious because they DECIDED to make her heterosexual DESPITE canon. But even then, EVEN THEN, I don't think that should be looked at as off limits shit, because I don't believe art should have many things off limits. Any limits must be very nuanced, because art and creativity is nuanced. Obviously my brain would go "het karlach? you deserve jail time and thats queerphobic", but I honestly believe creative license is more important than those feelings. I WOULD happily comment on their thing, "heterosexual karlach is boring, thats a shit idea" because I'm right

If you want good art and good writing, you need to protext creative license.

[noonaishere]

Online/Offline [Choi San] - Masterlist

By: noonaishere (main blog: symphonyofmars)

Fic type: social media au / traditional

Pairing: San x fem!reader

Genre: cafe setting, streamer, strangers to lovers, mutual pining, male lead secrets

Warnings: stalking, verbal abuse, online harassment, attempted kidnapping, “honey trap”, drinking

Status: Currently updating

Updates: Mondays and Tuesdays at 12pm EST

Synchronously posted with Music of the Heart (any asterisked (*) chapters means they’re shared between both fics)

[intro post explaining y/n and t/n]

SYNOPSIS:

Y/n has been a faceless streamer since she was 17 or 18 and - even though she’s friends with an idol from a popular group - no one knows who she is. Things start to go wrong when someone posts a picture in front of her old job and she makes the move from her hometown to Seoul. What will happen when she makes a whole bunch of new friends at the nearby cafe?

Also, how does y/n’s existence connect to t/n, someone she’s never met?

🧋 main cast

Chapters:

🧋 Prologue | the inciting incident

🧋 one | The Unofficial JGG Steam Rundown

🧋 two | fried chicken and baby pictures

🧋 three | one week later

🧋 four | what’s the wifi?

🧋 five | a job would be nice

🧋 six | students, please pay attention in class

🧋 seven | above minimum wage. like, *way* above

🧋 eight | trimming the fat

🧋 nine | screep screep goddamn!

🧋 ten | F, senpai

🧋 eleven | QUITE the face journey

🧋 twelve | welcome to AtoZ café

🧋 thirteen | she definitely used to be a barista

🧋 fourteen | commit to the bit

🧋 fifteen | *heartlessly*

🧋 sixteen | our beautiful boy

🧋 seventeen | bean boyz / shadow beanz

🧋 eighteen | were they in a drama or something?

🧋 nineteen | how are the fields this year?

🧋 twenty | the devil was an angel too, before he fell

🧋 twenty-one | busy bees send emails

🧋 twenty-two | leroyyyyy jenkins!

🧋 twenty-three | bean babez

🧋 twenty-four | a car? in this economy?

🧋 twenty-five | can I pick her up? can I tell her I love her? will she get mad?

🧋 twenty-six | get thee to a nunnery, wench

🧋 twenty-seven | like a dumbass

🧋 twenty-eight | double high five

🧋 twenty-nine | “just mix them up”

🧋 thirty | a loudmouth with no sense of self preservation

🧋 thirty-one | stephen from canada

🧋 thirty-two | because…

🧋 thirty-three | i think he’s just nice, that’s all

🧋 thirty-four | you’re both Too Nice

🧋 thirty-five | you really do need a vacation

🧋 thirty-six | petition to have cat kicked from the discord

🧋 thirty-seven | stream CALLiSTO everyone

🧋 thirty-eight | what’s your channel name?

🧋 thirty-nine | she’s the streamer

🧋 forty | we can’t keep meeting like this

🧋 forty-one | “family drama”

🧋 forty-two | meet the morn

🧋 forty-three | feline photoshoot

🧋 forty-four | caturday

🧋 forty-five | 1-800-CALL-A-BITCH

🧋 forty-six | intelligent pants

🧋 forty-seven | one cheeks, two cheeks…

🧋 forty-eight | today’s prize is: Cash!

🧋 forty-nine | can someone please come to the counter?

🧋 fifty | matching socks

🧋 fifty-one | the byeol of ones and zeros

🧋 fifty-two | explaining ninja warrior

🧋 fifty-three | halfway there

🧋 fifty-four | stalkerly actions

🧋 fifty-five | sock update

🧋 fifty-six | plucky servants

🧋 fifty-seven | five yeets deep

🧋 fifty-eight | only you would get banned from jumping

🧋 fifty-nine |

🧋 sixty |

🧋 sixty-one |

🧋 sixty-two |

🧋 sixty-three |

🧋 sixty-four |

🧋 sixty-five |

🧋 sixty-six |

🧋 sixty-seven |

🧋 sixty-eight |

🧋 sixty-nine |

🧋 seventy |

🧋 seventy-one |

🧋 seventy-two |

🧋 seventy-three |

🧋 seventy-four |

🧋 seventy-five |

🧋 seventy-six |

🧋 seventy-seven |

🧋 seventy-eight |

🧋 seventy-nine |

🧋 eighty |

🧋 eighty-one |

🧋 eighty-two |

🧋 eighty-three |

🧋 eighty-four |

🧋 eighty-five |

🧋 eighty-six |

🧋 eighty-seven |

🧋 eighty-eight |

🧋 eighty-nine |

🧋 ninety |

🧋 ninety-one |

🧋 ninety-two |

🧋 ninety-three |

🧋 ninety-four |

🧋 ninety-five |

🧋 ninety-six |

🧋 ninety-seven* |

🧋 ninety-eight* |

🧋 ninety-nine* |

🧋 ninety-nine* |

🧋 ninety-nine* |

🧋 one hundred* |

🧋 one hundred and one* |

🧋 one hundred and two |

🧋 one hundred and three | I

🧋 one hundred and four |

🧋 one hundred and five |

🧋 one hundred and six |

🧋 one hundred and seven |

🧋 one hundred and eight |

🧋 one hundred and nine |

🧋 one hundred and ten |

🧋 one hundred and eleven* |

🧋 one hundred and twelve* |

🧋 one hundred and thirteen |

🧋 one hundred and fourteen* |

🧋 one hundred and fifteen* |

🧋 one hundred and sixteen |

🧋 one hundred and seventeen* |

Epilogue 1

Epilogue 2

Epilogue 3

Epilogue 4

Epilogue 5

Send an ask or leave a comment if you want to be added to the tag list! 🧋

[crepegosette]

new au just dropped

denisa and co. are a bunch of detectives that go around eastern europe solving stuff. their latest call is a a nunnery that was burned down "due to mysterious circumstances" 

cue creepy shenanigans and a encounter with a vengeful spirit

[slashers-and-rats]

to get back into the groove of writing, let me share an au that i’ve been discussing with @hollowslasher !! they’re fantastic and I’m now obsessed with this

priest!billy au (nsfw)

lemme set the scene…

after the abuse he faced in his home when he was younger, and the gruesome deeds that would follow, instead of being sent off to an asylum, he is instead sent to a nunnery through some means (haven’t worked out that part yet). anyways, he’s sent to the nunnery to find “the way of the lord”, and learn how to be a faithful priest, and repent his passed sins, and all that jazz.

but, billy is billy. he’s obsessive with ideas, he clings to things, and so during his time at the church, he quickly becomes overwhelmed by the ideas given to him. he takes them too literally, too serious, and soon he’s obsessed with the idea that god can save him from the things he does. during this time, he denounces his old name of billy, wipes his slate clean, takes on a new name of micheal (we all know it’s billy, so that’s what we’ll call him), and becomes a priest in training.

billy, on the surface, is a model man. he helps out as much as he can around the church grounds, he perfectly recites bible verses, he memorizes prayers quickly because he’s really just repeating what others say in their voice, he is very strict on himself and follows the rules carefully; he is a devoted man of the cloth, or whatever. sure, he has his few quirks, like when he gets too excited he still drools, and he mumbles things under his breath, and he always has a certain look in his eye, but lots of the fellow members of the nunnery just believe it’s due to his rough upbringing. they don’t know much about him, they just know he didn’t come from a good place, and so they try to give him some grace.

that being said, it’s still a church, and billy finds himself repressing a lot of himself. he buries those vile, disgusting thoughts deep inside of him, and holds back on his outbursts until he’s alone and can scream into his pillow. he views it as the sin seeping into him. every time he thinks of something dirty, he’s running to the church to pray, or he’s confessing his sins in a confessional, or (on particularly bad days) he’s flogging himself for his falling into temptations. while on the outside he’s a picture perfect, born again boy, on the inside he feels as though he’s always being poisoned by “the devil”.

he becomes attached to this idea of purity. he has to be pure, that’s what they tell him. if he’s not pure, he’s not forgiven, and he HAS to be forgiven. he’s done too much not to be. he worries so much about falling into sin, and yet he sneaks indulgences when he can’t take it. he’s like an addict, he keeps going back because it’s truly all he knows, and slapping this bandage over a bullet wound isn’t helping.

it certainly doesn’t help when he starts making the phone calls. during the wee hours of the night, when the dormitory is silent, billy will call the nuns and priests, and do what we know he does best. he’ll spit vile things, and moan and whine into the phone, and confess all of the dirty things he’s been thinking of. he doesn’t say who he is, he makes sure his voice is inconsistent, and he just throws up all of the horrible thoughts he pushes down inside. usually, in response, the recipients of these calls will mutter prayers, or shame him for calling in such a way, or tell him he needs jesus. and all of this he knows. that’s why he’s there. he tells himself he’s only calling so he can hear those prayers, so that he can feel the shame and it’s like some punishment for what he’s saying, but deep down it’s all lies. he’s just a mutt.

once again, no one really suspects it’s billy. he’s weird, sure, but he’s the sweetest guy you’ll met when the sun is out. also, prank calls aren’t unheard of when it comes to places like that, so. they go about their business, occasionally getting billy’s sick phone calls and dealing with it however they see fit for the time.

until, billy calls one woman, a nun. a pure little lady, or so he thought. billy calls her, like he’d call any one of these people, but as he’s babbling about his nastiness, she isn’t responding in the usual manner. sure, she says he’s sinful, and says he has so much lust inside of him, but it’s said in such a way that… it sounds almost affectionate. she speaks as though she’s impressed by him, as though she finds him amusing or entertaining or something of the like. billy doesn’t notice until he’s pumping his cock, something he has done very hard work to keep from doing. he’s yanking his trousers down and stroking himself and this woman is telling him about how he’s so bad, so naughty, such a dirty man to try and corrupt a nun like her, and he’s reeling. he has to hang up before he gets too far. he doesn’t even cum, he can’t bring himself to, it’s all too much. he’s shaken, he’s thinking hard about her. a new obsession. a new religion in the making.

he focuses in on her. the next day, he figures out which one of the nuns she is. he begins watching her from afar during her daily chores and services. he sits where he can see her during services, he listens in on her confessions, he watches her as she eats… he begins calling her regularly, always getting the same amused responses from her.

at first, he believes she’s some dirty succubus. how could she respond like this to such vile things he’s said? she’s the one in the wrong, she has to be. sure, he’s the one spewing fantasies over the phone, but she’s the one that’s letting him. she’s the sinner, she’s the harlot, it can’t be him. no, he needs to fix her, because he’s the good one. any hoop he can manage to jump through, he does. he doesn’t want to take responsibility or admit he’s just a lustful man, no, it can’t be him. he wants to be good, he wants to be forgiven.

he begins seeing himself as her saviour. he’ll fix her. this is all some covert way of weeding out the sinners, and he’s found one, and now he has to find a way to fix it. his phone calls become harsher, more directed at her, more personal as he speaks about the things he’ll do to her. he’ll flog her for her misdeeds, he’ll wrap his rosary around her throat, he’ll fill her mouth with his cock so she can’t say any unholy things anymore, he’ll make her pray while he fucks her so that she can have a real holy figure inside of her. he will be her retribution. she just responds with the same amount of amusement, but billy can hear her becoming enraptured as well. she touches herself, he knows it. he’s so disgusted with her behaviour, and yet he wants more and more and more

the phone calls become a routine, to the point that when she answers, she knows who it is from the way he chokes a little at the start of his rants. billy becomes obsessed, he begins becoming tangled in a web of his religious duties and his duties to fuck this woman silly. he takes the word of the lord so seriously, and yet… here he is. stroking himself while confessing all of his deepest desires. over the phone he refers to himself as billy, he speaks as he would usually, and she listens. he likes that she listens, deep down. he wants to be heard.

things go south when one day, as he’s sitting waiting for the church service to start, she comes up and sits down beside him. he’s very nervous, immediately becoming fidgety, but he tries to smile and ignore the anxiety bubbling up. he’s never been THIS close, he usually just watches from afar. he’s mesmerized by her when she’s this close, and he has to keep reminding himself not to stare. if you asked him, he’d say he was nervous because he was sitting beside a succubus, and he didn’t know what she was capable of. but, deep down, it was because he would let her take him on the pew if she spoke as sweetly as she did over the phone.

anyways, she sits beside him, and he smiles as normally as he can at her. and she smiles back, and leans over, and all she says is “it’s nice to see you, billy.”. it makes him freeze. it’s like he’s just been slapped across the face, it’s like she just ripped all of his skin off at once. no one has called him that in so fucking long. as well, her knowledge of him being billy directly threatens this new life he’s created. if she knows it’s him, then she could tell others that he’s the one that’s been calling, and he’ll get kicked out again.

he’s sure she sees his panic, because she just pats his knee gently, as if she didn’t just rip his entire universe apart. he physically flinches, and gets up and walks quickly out of the service, something very out of character for such a loyal member like billy. but they don’t think much, since missing one sermon isn’t a problem. but she knows why he’s run, and he does too. and that’s enough to make him terrified.

later, when dinner is over, and people have settled into their rooms, billy catches her in the hall. she was walking back to her dorm, and he snuck up behind her, and pinned her to the wall. he wrapped a hand around her throat, and hissed in her ear that he’ll kill her. he has to, because she’s going to tell everyone his secret, and he can’t have that. he can’t. he’s ready to commit another sin and work for forgiveness again, it’s easier than being barred from retribution altogether. but she’s looking up at him, fluttering her eyelashes, smiling softly even as he’s squeezing her throat. and she just pats his chest and says “your secret is safe with me… as long as my phone keeps ringing, that is”. it baffles billy. she is a whore, she is a slut, she has to be, why else would she want this. she’s squeezing her thighs together, and staring up at him with such adoration, he feels like a saint. he has to run off again, overwhelmed and confused. he should be disgusted by her, he should be seeing her as the dirty charleton she is, and yet… where her skin touched him, he burns. he wants more, he does, he needs ti purify her with his own seed, he needs to fix her. right? he’s the one fixing…? right…?

that’s my intro to this idea. i hope you guys like it, i plan on writing actual stuff for it. the nun will be a fem!reader probably, cuz i don’t really have much of a character for her yet. thank you so much for reading!!

[kmclaude]

her brother's so...charitable...

(full version with 💦 on marquisdeclaude dot com / @ marquisdeclaude on twitter)

[thebelladonnamoon]

Whispers In The Looking Glass | Gwynriel x Outlander

Gwyneth Berdara lives a quiet life in a nunnery in 1945. On her travels to Inverness to study nursing, she stumbles upon ancient stones. She is transported through time, finding herself in 18th-century pre-Jacobite Scotland. Disoriented and terrified, she crosses paths with a stranger.

Read Chapter One of Whispers In The Looking Glass here

This Christmas I had the chance to write something special for @vikingmagic33 who admire and adore in every way. She loves Jamie Fraser so I thought why not do a fun Outlander AU… And so, may I present to you rugged highlander Azriel 🖤

[ghouljams]

Ugh. One bad headache and a severe case of procrastination and suddenly I have a new Cowboy au oc 😔 I call her Sister. She’s sweet but….horrifyingly dense. She somehow talks her way into Moon’s “convent” and really genuinely thinks that this is just a really weird nunnery despite several people looking her point blank in the eyes and practically telling her that she’s got it all wrong. Moon could hold up a sign that says “I am faking being a nun” and Sister would just laugh like “Oh, Sister Moon! You always tell the best jokes!” - ☀️

You know what? That would probably sell the Nun thing better than any scheme Moon could come up with. Sister is more than welcome to stay and help out with the convent stuff while Moon continues doing crimes.

Moon isn't even going to attempt to explain what's going on between her and Soap. She'll just hang up her habit when they get married, but until then... what weird noises coming from her room when Soap visits?

In Sister's defense they are all wearing habits and doing charity work at the church at least once a week. Sure they don't actually go to work or really say prayers, but they also all eat together and spend all day doing hard work around the house and one or two of them bow their heads at meals, so maybe it's a pray on your own time kind of thing? And there's no mother superior, but if Sister needs anything she can just go to Moon, actually everyone just goes to Moon with whatever they need, so maybe it's a sort of un-spoken thing.

All I'm saying, is that if you're looking for nuns, the nuns sure look a lot like nuns.

[trashboatprince]

I've been thinking on this for a while now, and I decided to rework the beginning of the sea monster wives au.

Especially with the new ideas I have for it.

So, here's a new, updated version of how Aziraphale and Crowley meet.

On with the fic!

--

The letters creased in the tight hold of Aziraphale's fingers as she read them over a fifth time.

They still said the same thing as they had the previous four times, in the two familiar scripts and words of her brothers. It was the same message, one more friendly and apologetic than the one, which was more stern and to-the-point.

'We will not be arriving back to England like we had promised.'

Jim had been kinder in his letter, but Gabriel had written to her as if she were an associate from a partnering company that he worked with.

Her eldest brothers, Gabriel James and James Gabriel (Jim, as he preferred), were in charge of their family's shipping and trading companies, currently doing business in America. They had been over there for over a year now, and had promised they'd return by the time Aziraphale would be reaching the age of twenty-six, which was in a few months.

But Aziraphale should have known better, promises are just words that can easily be broken with the twins. Jim was so sorry, having said that while he would love to return to see his dearly loved sister, Gabriel was not letting him return home for something like this. Business was booming in America, Jim had to be there to help!

And... well... from what he had written in his letter, Jim had met someone. The heir to a very successful meat processing venture, Bea Prince, apparently things were going well with the courting. Aziraphale could not fault her brother for staying not just because Gabriel told him to, but because his heart was full of love.

She was herself a hopeless romantic, she adored romance and such. However, she only really experienced it through the characters in the books of her shop. She had never really felt anything for anyone.

Well.

While love wasn't really in the picture, attraction was. Attraction that her family was very much against. The youngest child, the only daughter, in the Eastgate family, could not prefer the company of women over men!

It was bad enough that Aziraphale was pushing her luck with wearing trousers and clothing more inclined for gentlemen than ladies, if she were even to feed her appetite for the fairer sex, she'd be sent to a nunnery!

Or she'd be forced to marry someone her brothers picked. Michael had threatened her with this when he had spotted her being a bit too friendly to a young woman in town some years ago. And Michael's threats had the power of a military captain behind them, considering that was his rank.

Even if she didn't have feelings for women, the thought of arranged marriage was always looming over her head. Gabriel and Michael had been talking before the eldest Eastgate had left for the United States. They had been discussing Aziraphale's age, and how she was practically a spinster.

They had talked about marrying her off to someone.

She had nearly burst into the drawing room of the family's estate home, nearly screamed and shouted and acted like a child.

But she held her tongue, and continued to eavesdrop.

Until she heard a name of a potential suitor and she left.

Mr. Salt, her brother's main business partner, after Jim. He was smarmy man with gold teeth who liked to be a little too close to Aziraphale's seat whenever he came over for dinner. She hated him more than she had ever hated a person.

He was a constant in her life, especially right now, with her brothers away. He was running the business from its main base here on Tadfield Isle, and he was constantly over at the family home. Practically moved in the day her brothers left the port! Michael and his wife, Uriel, were not thrilled, but put up with it due to Gabriel saying it was perfectly fine.

Aziraphale stopped living at home two months after this, and had been living in the flat above her bookshop just to avoid him. Except for Wednesdays and Sundays, when she was required to attend family dinners at the estate.

Mr. Salt did not like her living at the bookshop, in fact, he was quite vocal about how she shouldn't even own the place.

'A young lady has no need for a job! Her place is at home!' He had told Gabriel, who nearly agreed, especially to the idea of selling it. But Jim had put his foot down, saying that it was Aziraphale's, left to her by their grandfather, who loved books just as much as she did. It was in her name, it was hers.

Jim was always in her corner, he was a good man, even if he could sometimes be a dim as a dying oil lamp.

With a sigh, Aziraphale pocketed his letter. The one from Gabriel was held between her fingers before she let it go, watching it fly away with the wind.

She stood silently on the beach, watching the piece of paper move through the air, as if it were dancing.

The beach was her quiet place, like her shop. Only it didn't have the occasional annoyance of a customer, it just had birds that sometimes tried to eat her nibbles she'd bring. It was a small cove a distance from town, a private place that no one ever came to because it was hidden away, ugly and rocky, but it had a charm to it that Aziraphale liked.

Like the cave hidden in the cliff side nearby, the tide pools, the cute crabs she liked watching.

And the quiet, peacefulness of it, where no one could bother her.

She watched the paper as it landed on the water's surface, near the end of the line of weather-worn rocks that reached into the sea.

And that's when she saw it.

Something red and black, right at the furthest rock. Curiously, she watched it, what was it? Debris? An article of clothing floating on the water? A fish of some sort?

No... it looked like hair, with some sort of strange, black plant coming out of the tangles.

The black things fluttered as the paper drifted closer to it, and then something grabbed a paper.

A hand.

Aziraphale's eyes widened and she found herself moving close to the shore.

"H-hello?" She called out.

She watched as the red thing tore into the paper, then suddenly made a harsh sound. Paper was spat out, and what was still grasped was snarled at.

"Hello?!" Aziraphale called out again, now worried, but her curious nature was getting the better of her.

Could this be someone in danger? The hand certainly looks human, even if the skin seems... strange. And the red stuff does look like hair...

But there was a rumor going around town, told by the salty, old sea captain with a weird hatred and fascination with witches, Shadwell, that he had seen and captured a mermaid. Until this 'mermaid' fought back and escaped his fishing boat some weeks ago when they had that massive storm.

Adam Young and his little group of friends had even claimed to have seen the 'mermaid', but they could just be messing with Shadwell, as they tended to enjoy getting him riled up.

Aziraphale was open minded to the wonders of the world, there was always a kernel of truth to folklore and myths, but a mermaid sounded so... outlandish.

And yet...

The strange thing in the water moved fast when it finally heard her, hiding behind the rock.

"Oh, oh please, don't hide! It's... it's okay!" She said, removing her shoes and her stockings, moving to climb up on the rocks. They were a long line, a bit jagged, but flat enough that she could, carefully move across them. She'd done it tons of times over the years, she'd be fine.

Aziraphale got near the last rock, watching as the red stuff drifted through the water, it was hair, beautiful, bright red hair, darkened by the waters. A hand grabbed the rock, long, black claw-like nails scratched as it. She could see a strange thing between the fingers, a blushing red, it looks like very thin skin.

"It's alright, I won't hurt you." She said softly over the waved, though she felt ridiculous, sounded like she was talking to a scared dog.

Aziraphale got down to sit on the stone, looking at the hand and the hair, hearing something that sounded oddly like clicking and chirping.

The figure then slowly moved, letting Aziraphale see their face.

The figure was a deathly pale, with freckles scattered over their cheeks and nose, a mouth that was frowning, but the thin lips parted just enough to show unusually sharp teeth.

The black things from before were thin, like the skin between the figures, fluttering around what had to be ears hidden behind them and the red hair.

And eyes, golden and snake-like, stared at her in a way Aziraphale had never been stared at before.

Then they moved, and Aziraphale suddenly found herself on her back, staring up at the slightly gray sky, and the stranger.

The beautiful, frightening stranger, who continued to look at her with large, golden eyes.

And the frown became a smile.

A smile of shark teeth.

Aziraphale had found the so-called mermaid.

--

Aziraphale, meet your future wife, Crowley. :)

Yes, Jim is now a character in this, the only brother that actually likes Aziraphale. He'll be in support of his sister being in love with a monster, because Crowley makes her happy. And yes, Jim and Beelzebub are a couple in this.

[azrantimes]

Why isn't there an & Juliet boarding school au? It fits with canon too; Juliet doesn't get sent to a nunnery, but to a boarding school. Romeo's there too but they're in like rival groups (think like legacy clubs). Frankie is there because his entire family, including his brothers, has gone there and he's pressured to live up to the legacy of his name. Angelique works there and basically is the dorm mother (I'm too tired to try to figure out the actual term) and May has grown up at the school since taken in by Angelique. William and Anne are both English/literature teachers and they basically use their students to salvage their wedding by setting them up against eachother

[troutfur]

i haven't read anything past oots and my memory of that and po3 is hazy on its own but what if all the ableism was just like a weird thunderclan idiosyncracy. jayfeather talkin to the other med cats and they're baffled by the idea that being blind had anything to do with him becoming a med cat.

Honestly sometimes I feel like the ableism should run backwards you know? A blind cat is something that can you can for sure work with, cats are not very visual-reliant creatures anyway. Meanwhile many cultures do have very strict taboos about letting the physically disabled, particularly if it is congenital, be in positions of religious authority.

I have a concept tossing around for a medieval AU and that's precisely the route I went with it. Brun (Brambleclaw) has a firstborn to inherit, a daughter to marry off, but no younger child to go into a church career. And Jean (Jaypaw) may not be exactly the most thrilled about being a good little Catholic but that should have been his role to play in his father's dynastic games.

Also he probably would be a lot less cranky about the church thing if he wasn't being forced to spend so much time with his aunt the nun who keeps trying to pray his blindness away and dunking him in her nunnery's holy spring water.

[kmclaude]

29. “She told me you were alone.”

"Mother Superior--she--she told me you were alone."

"Yeah well Mother Superior ain't as all knowing as she likes to think--that or she's got a great blind eye. Now, we done?"

Annemarie tried to push past her brother but he didn't move from the door frame.

"Father Ignatius had his hand down your skirt."

"I was there, yeah."

"And you just let him?"

Annemarie didn't meet Tiefer's eye. "He's not my type. I'd prefer seminarians and fresh puppies like you"--her eyes flitted up to his clerical collar, still not quite to his face.

"If he or anyone else here tries anything with you again, say no."

"Ah right. How stupid of me not to think of that, yeah, and uh, how'd that work for you?"

Tiefer grabbed her face, pulling her close, nails digging in her cheeks. "Anyone who tries to fuck with you will have to deal with me. You're mine, Anne. Mine. Mine to fuck or beat or even kill if I fucking want. No one else gets to touch you but me. Clear?"

She nodded.

He released her and stepped to the side so she could pass.

"I'll see you tonight."

[frociaggine]

top 5 ways to save Cersei from a tragic ending/ aus where she can still live

This has sat in my inbox for days because it's so hard! She's so narratively doomed. I fear all AUs that save her will have to be cracky in nature

The Grand Sept explodes like in the show but Cersei is out of town.

This would take out the High Sparrow, and also remind the people of Westeros why they didn't like the Tagaryens in the first place and put Cersei in the position to place herself as a wartime leader.

Gemma Lannister gets to KL and becomes Cersei's new top advisor.

She's actually sensible. Won't talk down to her for being a woman. WILL talk down to her for being irrationally obsessed with Tyrion. It might fix her.

THE POWER OF LESBIAN SEX SAVES HER

What if Taena Merrywater is so good at giving head that Cersei stops being obsessed with the thoughts of what might have been with Rhaegar and getting back at her dead husband.

Whatever happens to Jamie in the Riverlands destroys his character development.

He returns to KL not giving a shit about anyone in the world who isn't Cersei, including their kids. Kidnap her and puts her on a boat. They aren't around for *gestures vaguely* all the shit that's about to happen. This is VERY sad but technically, she'd live!

Get thee to a nunnery

What if this but Cersei.

After Kevan's death, someone at court schemes to have her sent away / High Septon has Cersei tried again on some bullshit charge and sends her away with septas / the Tyrells do Something. Whatever happens, she escapes en route and is peacefully healing in the countryside as the shit goes down.

[top 5 asks]